#so if you wanna keep up sub on ao3 :)

[puhpandas]

Take Me Home 1, 2

(to see new chapters release, sub on ao3 :))

(3227 words)

When Cassie wakes for the second time, it's not with a pounding head and limbs as heavy as iron. No. This time, her awareness of the world rolls in smoothly, and all she feels when she wakes fully is faint buzzing throughout her body.

She revels in it; the fact that theres no pain. She doesn't think too hard about why, she just shifts, moving to stretch her limbs, but hisses when going to move her arm sends a wave of soreness pain up her arm.

She grits her teeth, yelping and suddenly re-entering the world fully when the pain throws her into alertness.

Her eyes shoot open, and she moves to sit up in bed, heart racing when all she can remember is last being in the dark, dingy, falling apart Pizzaplex, but she calms when all she can see is someone's bedroom.

"...Huh?" She mumbles, her mind still not having fully caught up to her yet. She glances around the room, painted a pale blue, with furniture tucked against the neighboring walls and flowing curtains covering most of the sunlight filtering through the window, a light breeze ruffling them.

Movement catches her attention in the corner of her eye, and she glances over just in time for Gregory to snort awake, eyes trailing across her, not really seeing her, until they blow wide in recognition.

"Cassie!" Gregory exclaims, rushing to stand up from the position he was in where he had been sitting in a chair, laying his head in his arms, hunched over on the bed. "You're finally awake!"

Cassie feels her heart warm when she realizes that Gregory had been waiting for her to wake up by her bedside, never leaving her prescence. Long enough for him to fall asleep. Her heart slows to a normal rate when she sets eyes on him, immediately feeling at ease, and she breaths a deep breath, shifting to sit up more and allowing Gregory to help her when he rushes over.

She hisses when the movement jostles her leg and arm, and she finally takes a good look at them, realizing that at some point, in her sleep, her cardigan had been taken off, leaving her in her button-up, and her shoes and socks had been discarded, leaving her in her dark purple tights and shorts.

Gregory notices her staring at her foot, which is propped up on a pillow, peeking out from under the thick comforter, with some sort of makeshift splint made from cloth wrapped around the ankle.

"We had to improvise." He informs her, that lopsided grin Cassie'd always see in her dreams and on her homemade missing posters stretched on his face. "Ness cant exactly take the chance of getting involved with authority."

Cassie furrows her brows, her mind still kind of foggy from her -what she guesses- long sleep. "Ness?"

Gregory perks up. "Oh. It's a nickname we use for Vanessa a lot. Y'know, that blonde girl that was with us in the pizzeria?"

Cassie nods in recognition, remembering her blonde ponytail with rainbow streaks. "Yeah, um... how exactly did--"

She gets cut off when the door clicks open, and speak of the devil. "Oh, you're awake." Vanessa peeks her head in the room, a smile on her face when she sees Cassie sitting up and awake. "We were just making dinner, and I wanted to see if you were up."

"Um..." Cassie trails off. "Dinner?" She settles on.

Gregory senses her uncertainty, and settles a hand on her shoulder. "Vanessa's makin' chicken alfredo. And since you're awake, now you can finally eat."

Her stomach rumbles as if on queue, and her cheeks redden. Gregory has no problem laughing at her. "How long has it been?"

Cassie tries to think. "A few hours before you came and got me, since I ran to the Pizzaplex as soon as I got the message. So... that plus however long I slept for."

"Eighteen hours." Vanessa supplies helpfully.

Cassies eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Eighteen hours?!" She exclaims.

Gregory laughs, and Vanessa just looks at her with a crooked smile that reminds her of Gregory's. "Yup. You were exhausted physically and emotionally, and were injured, kiddo. The fact that you slept for so long checks out."

Gregory giggles. "Remember when we first got back, you slept for twenty-one."

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "I think I had a perfectly good reason to sleep the whole day away. Unlike you." She points two fingers from her eyes to Gregory. "Its not my fault you have the same amount of energy as a hyperactive dog."

"You mentioned a dog! So is the dog talk working?" Gregory asks, smugly. "Come on, Ness. Just concede. Its only a matter of time before you cave."

Cassie just watches, unsure of what to do when Gregory and Vanessa talk. Theres a grin on Gregory's face, not one she's used to. Not like the mischievous, pointed ones when Gregory was brewing something up, or the slight, hopeful ones, when Cassie would talk about when they got older, and she and Gregory could work towards getting a car and finally being able to give Gregory a life where he doesnt have to worry, and they can just live. Just a few more years, they'd always say.

This one is easy. Its gentle, with no kind of edge to be detected, and it looks so right on his face. It doesn't look forced, it doesnt look rare. Cassie can tell just by looking that Gregory has smiled like this often, and hes been allowed to be used to it. To smile without the quirk of worry.

It warms Cassies heart, to see that theres been change. But it also hurts.

Because he'd been away for so long, and although Cassie is so, so glad to have him back, she can't help but wonder why he never reached out to her. If he'd been able to smile so easily like this, while she couldn't muster one at times, too empty from his absence.

"I can barely take care of you and Freddy, kid." Vanessa points out, and Cassie is thrown back into reality. "And now I got another destroyed animatronic to fix and another kid. Not even mentioning a dog."

Cassie gasps, big and sudden at Vanessa's words. "Roxy!" She exclaims, and she winces when her voice rasps, and her dry throat burns from dehydration. "Roxy! Where is she? Is--Is she okay?!"

When Cassie starts to shift, arms moving to roll the comforter off of herself and somehow leave the bed, Gregory and Vanessa both rush to gently push her back down.

"Its okay, Cassie." Gregory says in that soft voice of his where it feels like it's only reserved for Cassie. "Shes in parts and service. While you were asleep, we wanted to fix her up a little, so we took turns watching you and fixing Roxy up."

Cassie feels the tension melt off of her body when she hears that Roxy is here, and has been fixed a little, but she still furrows her brows in confusion at 'parts and service', because are they not in a house right now?

Cassie can see Vanessa roll her eyes and go to explain. "He means that shes in one of the spare rooms we use to work on animatronics." Vanessa tells her. "We used it to build Freddy a body, and once Freddy started calling it parts and service, Gregory jumped on it, and it just stuck."

Cassie nods slowly, taking in the influx of information that she cant fully sort through right now. "So thats why Freddy didnt have a head."

"Do you want to see her?" Gregory asks. "Roxy, I mean. I'm suprised she hasnt barged in here already. I had to fight her to get her to trust me and Ness enough to work on her and watch you."

Cassie smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Because Roxy is so worried about her, and Cassie is happy that she cares, but shes upset that Roxy and Gregory are so hostile towards eachother. "Yeah. Um. I would like to see her."

Gregory nods, and smiles. "Kay. She wont look the exact same, since I tried my best to restore her some, but at least she isnt about to fall apart."

Vanessa leaves the room with a curse, and Cassie ignores the slight burning smell coming from outside the door. "...Okay. Just... when you get her, can we have some alone time?"

Gregory nods, halfway out the door. "Okay. Sure. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay." She says, and then Gregory is gone.

Cassie breathes deep, playing with the frayed edges of the comforter when theres nothing else to do. She can hear the clattering of kitchen utensils from further in the house, and hushed voices.

The silence stretches further in her room, and when Gregory doesnt return, not right away, Cassie can feel her chest tighten, and something grip her lungs.

She breathes harshly through her nose, and notices how her hands begin to shake slightly.

Something grabs at her chest, something akin to panic, feeling like a giant hand and squeezing.

Gregory. Is all she can think about. He said he'd be right back. Where is he? He shouldn't have been gone this long, right?

Have I lost him again?

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying really hard to keep still, to keep calm, but her brain is jumbled, like its tied itself in knots, and all she can think about is how Gregory isn't here with her.

She has half the mind to get up, to tear through the house to search for him, to make sure she hasnt lost him again, that she wont have to look for him again. But one look at her ankle thats wrapped in cloth and she knows it isnt possible.

She makes a pitiful noise, breaths huffing out of her mouth now, short and heavy, and Gregory hasnt come back yet, and she cant do a thing about it.

It's only when Gregory pops his head back through the door, nudging it open with a creak that Cassie is ripped away from her thoughts and actually realizes how much shes panicking.

Gregory steps inside, a smile on his face, mouth open ready to speak, but it drops right off as soon as he sees Cassie.

Cassie cant find it in her to speak when Gregory rushes over to her, asking if shes okay. Her brain feels like its fogged over, or like its signal is blocked, and she cant think enough to respond to his questions.

All she can do is reach out to him when relief overwhelms her, enough for tears to slip past her lashes, and Gregory pauses in his rapid fire questions, seeming to understand something.

"I'm here, Cassie." He tells her, getting on the bed with her. He let's her wrap her arms around him and squeeze him as much as she needs when she moves to. "I'm not leaving again, okay? I'll be here with you. Nothings going to take me away from you. You arent going to lose me."

Cassie relishes in the reassurance. It reaches past all of the fog into some part of her brain, and it's like hosing down a wildfire. Her breathing slows down as she soaks up the feeling of Gregory right here, with her, and not going anywhere.

The panic that gripped her heart loosens some, and shes finally able to breathe, breathing deep breaths when Gregory does too.

"Sorry." She says after a moment, wiping at her eyes. "I dont... I dont know why that happened. I, um..."

"Separation anxiety." Gregory says, and Cassie startles. When shes finally able to unfuse herself with Gregory enough to look at his face, he has a knowing, serious expression on his face. "I had my rodeo with it, too... me and Freddy didnt have too good of a time with it."

Cassie furrows her brows, and it feels like she has ten thousand more questions added to the pile to ask, but Gregory stops her before she can speak.

"I'll tell you another time, okay?" He says, gesturing to the door where Roxy stands, waiting patiently for someone who was, when she last checked, willing to rip apart the guy Cassie just hugged to death. "Just... I promise I'll help you with it, okay? I dont think I'll be too different from you, after trying to reach you all night, and also..."

His eyes glaze over some, looking like a thousand different memories are playing over them, but he shakes it off, offering one more smile. "Itll be fine, okay? I'm gonna go make you a plate, cuz I think dinners ready, and you can talk to Roxy. Sound good?"

Cassie doesnt know what's wrong with her, because she almost tears up again at Gregory's words, because hes being so kind, and so understanding. She shouldn't be surpised, she guesses, Gregory had always found a way to catch her off guard with kindness when she'd been so used to being brushed off or disliked.

She nods, smiling back ag him, and he offers a thumbs up, moving past Roxy and shutting the door behind him.

It's only now that Cassies able to fully pay attention to Roxy, and she gasps, almost not recognizing her.

Before, she hadn't had anything resembling a face. Just her endoskeleton skull exposed due to broken casing. But now, she somehow has her face casing back. The colors are a little off, and it looks dusty and unused, but she looks like herself. Her last remaining strands of hair are fuller now, some new strands added. They've been shifted, too, styled to look adjacent to her old style, just shorter.

Her body isnt much different, one of her arms has its forearms back, a bright, clean purple compared to her filthy leg warmers, and she has her other foot back, just a larger size and different color.

But the most prominent change are definitely the eyeballs, glowing blue LED's, stuck securely in their sockets.

Cassie laughs disbelievingly, joyously, putting her hands up to her mouth with a wide smile.

"Roxy!" She exclaims. "You have eyes again!"

It's only now, when Roxy laughs along with her, that Cassie realizes her voice box has been replaced, too. Cassie laughs even more when Roxys voice filters through, sounding happy, instead of angry, no warbling or static to be found.

Roxy heads to her bedside, and shes walking much more surely, now. Not like her long, wide strides, always careful to not collide with something. She sways from side to side, ever confident in her looks.

"How do I look?" Roxy asks, fluttering her eyelashes now that she has some again and fluffing her new hairdo up with her hand. "The brat gave me a makeover."

Cassie giggles. "You look beautiful, Roxy."

"I know." Roxy says, but then turns her attention towards Cassie. "How are you doing, Speed racer?" Roxy asks, voice soft. "That elevator couldnt have felt good."

Cassie shakes her head, gesturing to her splinted arm and ankle. "Nope, but... Gregory and Vanessa fixed me up pretty good. I'm not hurting that much."

"I'm glad." Roxy smiles, because she can now.

It's just Cassie and Roxy, now. And like with Gregory, everything she'd been feeling, all the thoughts she'd been having all bubble up to the surface, and now that everyones here, and safe, she just wants to get it all out.

So Cassie furrows her brows, and goes to tell Roxy I'm sorry, I didnt want to, I shut you down and you still saved me, why? But before she can, the door clicks back open, and Gregory steps inside her room, balancing two plates on his hands.

"Dinners ready." He tells her, smiling, and Cassie doesn't know why shes suprised when after Gregory hands her her own plate, he crawls up on the bed with her.

So she doesnt voice it. She just smiles, a big, wide one, but still small and soft.

Vanessa walks inside the room with her own plate, and Freddy, looking everything like the home-built animatronic he is, follows behind her, extra pillows and blankets in his arms.

"I was thinking we have a movie night." Vanessa says, sitting in the same chair Gregory was when she first woke up. "Better than you having to sit in here bored, right, kid?"

Cassie nods, and her mouth waters when she catches a whiff of the chicken alfredo sitting in her lap.

Gregory snatches the remote from Vanessa, holding it away from her arms when she tries to take it back. The TV in front of them that she just now notices is in the room comes to life, Disney+ appearing on screen.

Gregory hands the remote to Cassie when Vanessa finally gives up, and shes able to pick the movie, putting on a happy, animated movie, where all the characters have their happy endings and nothing bad really ever happens.

The chicken alfredo was delicious, and they sat in her makeshift room, pillows and blankets built up like jenga around her to make her as comfortable as possible for hours, laughing together.

Cassies cheeks hurt by the end, and although shes so thrilled after hanging out with Gregory again, just having fun together like they used to, she cant help but notice that Roxy was really quiet the whole time. Really quiet.

Cassie doesnt think shes very good at reading animatronics yet, not like Vanessa and Gregory seem to be able to with Freddy, but Cassie cant help but feel like Roxy wasnt really able to relax this whole time, and shes surrounded with people she feels unsafe with.

By the end of it all, when the suns long set and Cassie feels tiredness drag her eyelids down, she cant rest, even when Vanessa's retired to her room, Gregory's left, and Roxy and Freddy went to parts and service.

She feels the same panic as earlier grip her heart. It's not like a panic attack; she's had a few of those, it's more like any chance of relaxation has left her body, and all that's left is feeling tense, on edge, and like something bad is going to happen. Like Gregory isnt going to be there when she wakes up.

But she needn't have worried, because it isnt too long until Gregory re-enters her room, wearing pajamas and Roxy and Freddy plushies clutched in one hand, with a night light in the other.

"This helped me and Freddy when it'd get bad, too." Gregory explains, tucking the Roxy plushie into her own arm as he lays down with her, clicking the night light shaped like Sundrop on. "That way, you can see me if you get scared that I'm gone."

Cassie can't put into words how grateful she is, or how glad she is that Gregory's back, and that she finally has him again, so she just doesn't, even though she wants to. Instead, she just clicks the lamp off, and when she lays down, wraps her arms around his middle.

Once Gregory is pressed up against her, with her forehead against his collarbone, and she can feel his slow, calm breaths, she feels relaxed. She finally feels herself slip into dreamland, and has no nightmares.

2nd ao3 link

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵‍💫 ｡‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧｡ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.

Boy, did that come in handy.

You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.

One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.

The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.

You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!

Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.

You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!

What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.

When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.

Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.

Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.

“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”

He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.

“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”

He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.

“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.

Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.

“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.

“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.

Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.

You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.

“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.

He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.

“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.

You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.

Oh fuck-

Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.

“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”

You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.

His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.

“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.

You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.

“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”

Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”

The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.

Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.

Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.

“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”

“Like you’re complaining.”

His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.

“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.

“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”

Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.

Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.

"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."

Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"

You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."

The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."

Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.

You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.

“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”

Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.

“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”

Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.

He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."

His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.

With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"

You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.

"Good fuckin' girl, baby."

He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.

"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."

You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"

He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.

Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.

"Wha-"

You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.

"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."

Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.

"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"

Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.

"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.

"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.

"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."

His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.

"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."

"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."

Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.

"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."

You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.

"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"

The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.

"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.

"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."

He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.

tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥

[joelscruff]

one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).

The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.

You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.

"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."

You're no longer his patrol partner.

You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.

"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."

Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.

--

The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.

He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.

Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.

--

Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.

Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.

At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.

"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.

He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."

Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.

"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.

"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."

"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.

Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.

Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.

"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"

"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."

"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"

You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."

Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.

"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."

Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.

"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."

You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:

"He's...uh...friendly."

You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."

--

You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.

"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."

"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."

He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.

"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."

He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.

"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."

The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.

"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.

"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."

"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."

You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"

You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."

I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.

"So I figured I'd ask you."

You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."

"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."

"Which is...?"

He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."

You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.

"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."

"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"

You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."

"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."

"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.

"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."

"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."

"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."

You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."

"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."

He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.

"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."

"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."

"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."

"Maybe."

He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.

He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.

You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.

In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.

The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.

A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.

No one's there.

Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.

--

Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.

"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."

You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.

She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.

--

On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.

It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.

You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.

"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."

You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.

You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."

"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"

You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.

"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.

You know who'd never do this? Joel.

After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.

"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.

It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.

"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?

"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."

"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."

"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."

"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."

"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"

That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.

You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.

"But-"

"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"

"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.

"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."

"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."

"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"

He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"

"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."

"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.

You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.

"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."

His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.

"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.

Joel doesn't follow you.

--

Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.

Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?

Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.

But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.

"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."

No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?

You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.

"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.

--

It doesn't.

You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.

"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"

No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.

You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.

All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.

--

It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.

"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."

No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.

"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.

No reply.

Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.

You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.

The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.

--

You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.

Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.

You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.

Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.

A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.

"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."

It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.

Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.

It's not Steve you're thinking about.

It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.

--

It's pitch black when you wake up.

You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.

"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.

You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.

"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."

"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."

"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.

"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"

You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."

"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."

This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.

You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.

"Steve?" you whisper.

Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."

You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"

"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.

You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.

Reality dawns on you.

"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.

She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."

You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?

You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.

"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."

"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."

You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.

"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."

Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."

She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.

Joel.

"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.

You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."

You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?

"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."

"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"

She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."

Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"

She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."

You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."

Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"

You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."

You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."

She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."

"But-"

She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."

You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.

"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"

She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."

You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."

"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."

You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."

"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."

"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."

Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.

"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."

"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"

She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."

You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."

"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."

You nod, "I do."

She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."

She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.

"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."

You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.

You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.

You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.

"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.

"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."

"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."

She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.

You burst into tears.

--

Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."

Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.

--

They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.

You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.

Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.

"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.

Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.

Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.

Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.

"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.

"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."

"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."

He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."

You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"

"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."

"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."

He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."

For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.

"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"

Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"

Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."

"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"

"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."

You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."

"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."

"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.

Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"

She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."

--

"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"

"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."

You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.

"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."

"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"

He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."

You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.

"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."

--

The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.

You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.

You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.

Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.

A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."

Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.

"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.

"Good," you say with a smile.

He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"

His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.

"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."

He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."

"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."

You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.

"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."

"Joel-"

"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."

"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."

He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."

"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."

"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."

He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.

"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."

You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."

His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."

You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.

"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"

He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.

You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.

After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.

"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.

"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."

"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"

"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.

--

You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.

At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.

A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.

"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."

The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.

"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."

There he is.

You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.

"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."

"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."

"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."

The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.

"How?" you breathe, voice weak.

He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."

The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.

"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."

"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.

"Say it."

"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."

He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."

With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.

"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.

"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."

The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.

"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"

You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."

His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.

"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"

"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.

"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."

You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.

"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."

You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?

He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.

"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.

Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.

"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."

--

Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"

Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."

You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."

"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."

"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.

"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."

You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."

He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."

You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.

"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."

You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."

You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."

You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."

You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.

"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.

"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.

"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."

"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."

"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."

You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.

"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.

"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.

You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.

The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.

He pulls his mouth away.

"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"

He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.

"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"

He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.

"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."

"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."

You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."

"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.

"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.

"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.

You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.

"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"

He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."

You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.

"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."

"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."

It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.

It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."

"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."

He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."

"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."

It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.

"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."

He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.

"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."

You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.

"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.

"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.

Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.

"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."

You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.

"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."

He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.

Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.

After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.

"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."

"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.

He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.

"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."

"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."

"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.

"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"

"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."

Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.

"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.

"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."

He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."

You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."

You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."

--

He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.

But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.

"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."

He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"

"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."

He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."

You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.

"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."

He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."

"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."

You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.

"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"

You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.

"I thought you'd never ask."

i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.

let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖

[gimmethatagustd]

wanna stream a porno | kth

At this point, attempting to deny that you have feelings for Taehyung is laughable. Even his subscribers can sense the chemistry between the two of you.

○ Pairing: Dom!Taehyung x Sub!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Frenemies to lovers, sex work, fluff (?), smut

○ Word Count: 4,846

○ Warnings: Sex work (cam), MC uses they/them pronouns, Tae refers to MC as bunny and bun - aka rope bunny which is the term for the person being tied up in a shibari scene, bdsm, bondage, impact play, spanking, use of degrading language - that isn't actually meant to be mean, voyeurism, exhibition kink, Tae makes MC call him daddy so they won't dox him lmfao but it's not a kink - he's doing it as a joke to tease MC, blow job, vaginal fingering, sex toys, crying during sex, subspace/dropping, unprotected vaginal sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, implied aftercare

○ Notes: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, BESTIES 🫦 I hope you enjoy the final installment of The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles! Photographer Tae will be missed 💔 I definitely did not proofread this, so abandon all hope, ye who enter! My brain is literally broken.

○ Post Date: February 14, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? One Of The Girls (Sped Up) - The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lily-Rose Depp

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

“Too tight?” Taehyung murmurs against the curve of your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 

It’s embarrassing how your body reacts to the sound of his low, velvety voice. You'd snorted when Taehyung first told you that people on the internet paid money to listen to his dirty talk and watch him jerk off. There was no fucking way; he had to be lying. You’d been sure of it. 

But now… 

Taehyung reaches around your body and tugs on the rope he’s just tied your wrists with. It looks rough, black, and twisted but smooth as it rubs against your skin when you move. 

You shiver and shake your head, forgetting what you’d discussed earlier in the day until it’s too late. The smack to your ass stings, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any sound. 

“What did I tell you, bun?” Taehyung asks softly, running his palm across the skin he just smacked. He squeezes your asscheek and jiggles it before removing his hand. 

“I have to use my words,” you speak up like he told you to, even though your voice is hoarse with desire and nervousness. Because, fuck, are you nervous. 

“Mhmm…” Taehyung hums in agreement, though he sounds distracted. 

You can’t see him from where you kneel on the floor in his bedroom, but you can feel it when he gets up. If you wanted to, you could twist around to face him. It would be difficult, though, with how much of your body is tied up. 

Taehyung spent at least twenty minutes carefully weaving intricate patterns against your naked skin, crossing the rope in what almost looks like a star formation across your back that wraps around to the front of your body, keeping your arms tied to your sides and your hands bound in front of you. The rope cages your chest like a harness and extends down to wrap around your legs, forcing you into a kneeling position and making you unable to straighten your legs. 

It took you three weeks of practicing before Taehyung could fully tie you up without you going into a panic attack. 

“It’s not too tight,” you announce after clearing your throat. 

You watch as Taehyung circles your body until he stands in front of you. He reaches out to flick his middle finger against the underside of your chin, prompting you to tilt your head back to look up at him. 

“My little rope bunny looks so pretty, all tied up for me,” Taehyung says with a sparkling grin that makes your whole body flush with heat. 

“I want to tell you off so badly right now,” you hiss through gritted teeth. Your frustration only makes Taehyung’s grin widen. 

“I bet you do. It’s a shame you can’t, but rules are rules.” Taehyung shrugs, not at all nonchalant in his mocking tone. 

You close your eyes as he trails his finger down your throat and past your collarbones until he reaches one of your nipples. Usually, it would take more than a gentle brush of a fingertip against your nipple for you to feel aroused, but there’s something about being tied up that has heightened your senses. Every minor touch has your nerves sparking and fraying at the ends. Taehyung isn’t even doing anything, and you’re already wet and aching. 

“Taehyung,” you do your best to sound steady and fail. 

“Let me fix the cameras and figure out what I’m gonna wear, okay? I’ll be quick; I promise.” 

Taehyung rearranged all the furniture in his bedroom to leave an open spot in the corner of the room where he set up cameras and photography lighting. His laptop rests on an end table nearby, the screen showing a mirrored image of you kneeling on the floor on a pale pink silk sheet, fluffy pillows surrounding you in a half-circle. It’s all very Y2K, softcore aesthetic – not what you’d expect from Taehyung. His followers are mostly young women, though, and he says he likes to play up his soft side for them. 

It sounds ridiculous, but there’s something about being tied up in such a gentle environment that’s making your pussy throb. 

Taehyung is quick, as he promised. He returns, shirtless and wearing a pair of black joggers to match the black rope wrapped around your body. You drag your eyes over his torso, admiring the flat plane of his abdomen and the swell of his pecs. Smooth – it’s the best word to describe Taehyung. His voice, body, and charisma when he murmurs sweet seductions in your ear are always so smooth. 

When he catches you staring, Taehyung winks at you. It makes you flustered despite your desire to remain neutral, and you quickly look down to find something else to focus your attention on. In Taehyung’s hands is a long, rectangular purple box. He sets it down next to you on the floor and opens the lid. 

You gasp when you see what’s inside. 

“Taehyung…” 

“It’s for later. Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung says softly, pressing his index finger against your parted lips to quiet you. 

On instinct, you close your lips around Taehyung’s finger and suck it gently, swirling your tongue around it. Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed for a few seconds until he pulls his hand away. 

“You’re such a slut.”

“Fuck you.” 

You can’t help but grin when Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you. He’s an idiot, but you love it. You love him, maybe. To be determined. 

Or never. Never is also fine. 

“So… what the fuck is gonna happen now? I’m starting to cramp,” you complain as Taehyung messes around with his laptop. 

“What?” Taehyung spins around quickly, nearly sending one of his floor lamps crashing when his elbow collides with the stand. “You’re in pain? Where? Let me loosen–” 

“Oh my god, Taehyung, I’m fine. I just don’t feel like kneeling naked on the fucking floor while you dick around!” 

With a snort, Taehyung turns his back on you. 

“I’m just trying to take care of my little movie star, alright?” 

The nickname, if that’s what you can even call it, makes your stomach flutter. It doesn’t matter that you’re trying your best to stay unaffected by Taehyung’s bullshit; Taehyung has you under his spell like he always does. 

“I know what to say…” you insist with a pout, flexing your fingers. “Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for good…” 

It’s elementary, but all the prep Taehyung made you do leading up to this moment showed you how important having a system is, be it a random safe word or the colors. What you don’t want to tell Taehyung is how comforting the rope is. You don’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that you like being restrained. It’s like a tight embrace, and the rope causes goosebumps to spread across your body when its silkiness rubs against your skin every time you shift positions. 

Watching you over his shoulder, Taehyung calls you softly, “I’m going to start the session if that’s okay?”

You nod, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you hear the little pings from Taehyung’s laptop, indicating that people are paying to join the livestream. It’s still shocking that Taehyung has such a large following. However, it makes sense now that he has been so interested in erotic photography and film for his projects as a university student studying art. Funny how your roommate, Hoseok, never bothered to tell you that his friend does amateur porn – though Taehyung was quick to make it clear that he has never had anyone else on his stream before you. 

You’re special.

You wonder who might be sitting on the other end, paying to watch Taehyung pleasure himself every Wednesday night. 

“It’s hump day,” Taehyung had said with an exasperated sigh when you’d asked why he chose Wednesdays, as if you were the stupidest person on the planet for asking such a question.

The worst part is wondering if someone watching Taehyung’s stream will recognize you. Taehyung doesn’t shy away from showing his face, but he’d offered you a mask or only to use camera angles that wouldn’t expose your identity. You’d turned down both offers, though you can’t remember why. You can’t remember much of anything, your mind going blank the moment Taehyung addresses the anonymous subscribers waiting for porn. 

“Hey everyone, it’s nice to see you all again this week,” Taehyung greets his followers with a deeper and richer voice than you’ve ever heard him use. It makes your body tingle. “For those of you following me on my socials or who joined last week, you’ll know I promised to do something special for Valentine’s Day, right?” 

You can’t see the laptop screen; Taehyung is standing in front of it. He’s also blocking the camera, so the people logged into the session can’t see you yet. 

“I have a special guest,” Taehyung shifts to the side so you’re in view, “This is Bunny, and it’s their first time on camera like this, so please be kind.” 

Unsure of what to do, you wave your fingers in a greeting, unable to do much else since you’re all tied up. It must be enough because Taehyung smiles when he looks at you, and you feel your face heat up from the gentle gesture. 

Luckily, Taehyung’s attention quickly returns to the livestream chat. Apparently, Jimin is hanging out in his bedroom, moderating the chat to ensure no one posts anything inappropriate. Knowing Jimin will be watching excites you a little bit. 

“Ah, no, we’re not dating,” Taehyung chuckles, and it’s strange to be able to say that you know Taehyung well enough to know that this laughter isn’t genuine. “Don’t get any ideas, though. Trust me. Our little bun might look harmless, but it’s a ruse.”

You can’t help but snort. You’d think Taehyung is stalling, but you’ve learned that his subscribers expect a sort of parasocial relationship with him. He usually warms up by feeding into that. As weirdly cute as it is, your nerves are making you impatient. 

“Even though it’s my bun’s first time, I don’t think we need to take it easy on them,” Taehyung smirks into the camera, and more pings ring through the bedroom. 

Each ping indicates that the livestream viewers are leaving messages in the chat and sending Taehyung money to request specific actions – actions he refuses to tell you about because that would ruin all the fun. 

“Hmm…” Taehyung murmurs, eyes dragging from the streaming platform’s chat feature to you, wrapped up like a pretty present for him. The look is weighty and dark, which Taehyung has never had while looking at you. 

Suddenly embarrassed, you drop your gaze as Taehyung approaches where you kneel. 

“Are you ready, bun?” Taehyung’s question is softer than the look he gives you. 

You nod in return and hope your nerves aren’t visible to Taehyung’s loyal fans. It would suck to fuck this up for him, as much as he annoys you. Admittedly, ever since that impromptu threesome with Jimin, Taehyung has been acting different around you. He’s been almost… sweet. 

Taehyung takes out a black, wide-end riding crop from the purple box. He hits the palm of his hand with it a few times as though testing it out. He looks good, the muscles in his biceps shifting and bulging every time he winds up to flick the crop. Your entire body shudders when his dark eyes flit down to meet yours. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to speak up, hm?” 

Taehyung falls into character quicker than you expect. It gives you whiplash watching him push back his hair, now a light minty color that looks pretty against the pink surrounding you, his gaze an oppressive force crushing you harder than the rope ever could. Your attention briefly falls on the laptop when a few pings ring out. 

What if people don’t like you? What if you don’t do well? You’d agreed to do this because Taehyung wanted to expand his portfolio, just like every other time you agreed to spend time with him. You both know that isn’t why you’re here, even if neither of you want to say it out loud. 

“Bun.” Using the flat end of the crop, Taehyung lifts your chin to look at him instead of the laptop. “Don’t think about them. Just focus on me, okay?” 

“Okay,” you breathe, suddenly feeling lightheaded. 

Taehyung drags the crop down your chest, tapping lightly at your tits to watch them bounce against the black rope. Goosebumps rush across your skin like waves in the wake of the crop’s path down your body. 

“How many should I give you?” 

You blink a few times, eyes suddenly bleary as you watch Taehyung walk around to stand behind you. The camera captures your side profile, allowing viewers to see you and Taehyung clearly. Despite Taehyung’s reassuring words, it’s hard not to think about the anonymous people watching Taehyung caress your body. 

“How many what?” Your breath hitches when Taehyung’s hand replaces the crop to run up the length of your spine until he reaches the back of your neck. 

“For your punishment, bun. How many hits do you deserve?” Taehyung asks, his voice with a deep timbre. “Lean forward.” 

Taehyung squeezes the back of your neck and pushes, forcing your upper body down a bit further while you stay kneeling. Lifting the crop, he smacks your ass three times in quick succession, each hit a sharp sting that makes your body jolt. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you struggle to keep your balance. “Is that really necessary?” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue, and even though you can’t see him, you’re sure he has an infuriatingly smug look on his face. 

“Count them,” he murmurs loud enough for the stream to pick up. 

It’s strange how pliant you become with each hit. Something about the pain zaps something in your brain, sending your nervous system haywire until the stings turn into pleasure. Taehyung focuses each hit on the same spot until your skin becomes tender, but he doesn’t stop until your entire body shakes. 

“T-twenty,” you count with a shudder, tears lining your eyelashes and fingers squeezing the ropes on your chest to give you something to hold onto, though it does nothing to ground. 

“Very good.” It’s a simple statement, but Taehyung’s praise does something to you. Either that or it’s the feeling of the crop being dragged over your sore asscheek to dip inward. 

You gasp when Taehyung pushes the crop through your pussy, spreading your lips open and running the crop along your folds. You’re soaking wet and on edge from him spanking you, so the glide is easy for Taehyung as he begins rubbing your clit. The crop is warm from your body heat, and though the shape is sharp and angular, any amount of stimulation feels good. 

“Please,” you beg, bending forward further to expose more of your pussy. 

The ropes around your legs keep your thighs spread, putting you on display for easy access. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure your arousal glistens in the bright lighting, and you can feel your juices leak down your folds. 

Taehyung runs his thumb through your pussy lips, swishing your arousal around, dragging up and down your clit before he eventually sinks his index and middle fingers into your pussy. 

His name almost slips out when your thighs begin to shake. You want to call out his name and beg him to fuck you, even though everything in you doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction. It’s just too good, and you haven’t fucked since that time with Jimin. Taehyung said it would be better that way to help with your nerves, but now you’re feeling desperate, and you hate the feeling of needing to be filled. 

“Fuck, look at you. You like being tied up like this, don’t you?” Taehyung smirks when he tosses the crop to the side and uses his other hand to stimulate your clit while he continues fucking you with his fingers. 

You moan loudly, completely forgetting about the people watching Taehyung getting on his knees to finger you, twisting each time he pulls out, just to plunge back in and press downward to stimulate your front wall. 

Remembering the rules, you swallow your pride and do what Taehyung wants. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

It’s humiliating to call Taehyung that. You hate it, but you can’t say his real name on air, and this was what he’d told you to call him – or else you’d be punished. He won’t let you cum if you don’t behave. Though you can’t deny how good Taehyung sounds when he groans at the name, nor how good it feels when he speeds up his fingers. 

“Say it again,” Taehyung murmurs, leaning forward to press his bare chest to your back so he can reach your ear. “Baby, say it again.” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Fuck.” 

Grabbing your hips, Taehyung yanks you back so he can switch places with you, now kneeling in front of you. Being on this side gives him a better view of the livestream chat. Whatever he finds there makes him smile, something lopsided and suspicious. 

“They do have a pretty pussy, don’t they?” Taehyung grins into the camera, reaching forward to cup your pussy. He crowds your space, forcing your face against his crotch when he leans in. 

Despite how embarrassing the action is, you mouth at the bulge in his joggers.

“Hurry up,” you whine, knowing Taehyung might scold you but uncaring. “Fuck me already.” 

A slap to your tender ass makes you cry out in pain. 

“Our friends think I need to do something about your bratty mouth, bun,” Taehyung points out with his arms crossed against his firm chest. “They’re right, of course. You’ve always been so bratty with me.” 

“Fuck you,” you hiss quietly, both hoping no one hears you and also that they will.

“You’re cute when you’re acting like a slutty little bitch.” 

Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek and turns to the box that had held the riding crop. The insults scratch some itch in the back of your brain, and your pussy betrays you by pulsing with need. 

From the box, Taehyung pulls out a pink cordless wand vibrator. The head is smooth and fat, the rest of the wand sleek like Taehyung’s fingers as they grip around the handle. Anticipation burns in the pit of your stomach while you wait for Taehyung to turn the wand on and press it against your swollen, neglected clit. 

Instead, once the wand is on, Taehyung presses against the bulge in his joggers.

“Oh my god,” you moan as Taehyung drags the wand up his cock until he reaches the head. He circles it slowly, hips subtly thrust forward. 

It makes sense that people pay to watch Taehyung masturbate. He’s pretty when he does it, staring directly into your eyes as he whimpers, breathy and sweet.

Each of his little moans makes you wetter, and your body continues to tremble with need. It’s so unbelievably hot how he tilts his head back, exposing the V of his jaw and his Adam’s apple, bobbing each time he swallows. 

“Do you think I’m pretty, bun?” Taehyung smirks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he finally removes the wand from his clothed cock. It’s hard to see the wet patch in his clothes from how dark the material is, but you know it’s there. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper as Taehyung grabs a hold of your jaw and gives you a quick but firm squeeze that pushes your cheeks inward.  

“I know you do.” 

Letting go of your face, Taehyung hooks his thumbs in his joggers and pulls down far enough to take out his cock. It bobs and hangs heavy in front of your face, close enough that the tip brushes your cheek and smears precum across your face. 

“Be a good bun and suck my cock, yeah?” 

Not needing to be told twice, you lean forward to lap at the precum dribbling from Taehyung’s slit, making him groan. His body trembles slightly as you suck him into your mouth, and it feels good to know you’re not the only one affected.

Reaching for the wand again, Taehyung runs the tip along his shaft as you suckle the head of his cock. You can feel the vibrations in your mouth, and the sensation seems to travel down the rest of your body as your pussy pulses. 

“Fuck,” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as you take more of his cock down your throat. “Don’t go any faster. Keep it nice and slow.” 

He only lets you suck him off for a bit longer, just enough to get his cock nice and wet from gagging around him. Then he tugs on your ropes, pulling you off of his cock as you gasp for air. 

“You okay?” Taehyung brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, wiping away spit and precum, you’re sure. It’s disgusting, but he’s so gentle when he does it that your face grows hot.

“I’m fine.” 

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. Been thinking about it for weeks.” 

It isn’t until Taehyung cradles the side of your face and slots his lips with yours that you realize you haven’t even kissed. You usually don’t, too caught up in the carnal need to consume each other in other ways.

But kissing Taehyung feels good.

He holds you gently as your lips glide together, Taehyung tasting himself on your tongue and moaning into your mouth when he does. You pant against each other in between kisses, Taehyung using the opportunity to bite and suck on your bottom lip until you’re pushing yourself against him, seeking more. You just want to be close, closer. 

“Turn around,” he breathes against your spit-slicked lips. It isn’t easy, but he helps you move until you’re facing away from him. 

Without being told, you begin to lower your upper body onto the floor, but Taehyung stops you with an arm around your chest. 

“Wait.” It’s spoken against your ear, his breath hot like your core as it pulses when you realize what Taehyung is doing. 

He turns on the wand to the lowest vibration setting and carefully slips it through the rope wrapped around your hips. Placement presses the head of the wand directly to your clit. 

“I can’t,” you squeak, hunching over as the subtle vibrations ripple through you. Normally, the setting would be too low to get you off quickly, but Taehyung has been edging you this whole time. 

“It’s okay if you cum, baby. I wanna see how many times I can make you cum.” 

Taehyung bites the curve of your ear before shoving the middle of your back until your upper body rests on the floor and your ass is in the air. He’s gentle when he presses his cock against your entrance, the glide easy from how sloppy wet you are. You can hear him bottom out, the sound of your arousal gushing around his cock with each wet slap of his thighs against yours as he thrusts in and out of you. 

It only takes three deep strokes before you cum, pussy fluttering around Taehyung’s cock and your body shaking underneath him. The ropes prevent you from wriggling and writhing, and the vibrator on your clit prolongs your orgasm. You feel like it never ends, just wave after wave of pleasure, making your body lock up. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, Tae-” You’re cut off by Taehyung’s hand slapped across your mouth. 

“Behave, bun,” he growls, never letting up his pace despite how violently your body reacts to the prolonged orgasm. 

Grabbing the rope tied around your back, Taehyung pulls on it, forcing you to rock back and forth on his cock at the pace he wants. You’re so wet that he slips in and out of you with wet squelches loud enough to be heard by all his subscribers. 

“Oh my god,” you moan as your body rocks against the pretty sheets and fluffy pink pillows. It helps stop you from chafing against the floor, but you don’t care. All you can focus on is how good Taehyung feels, his cock filling you up and his hands tightening the hold the ropes have on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

“God, you’re always so fucking creamy,” Taehyung groans, slapping your ass to watch it jiggle on his cock. 

You feel another orgasm ripple through you, having barely recovered from the other one. Taehyung fucks you through it still and then fucks you through the next one. 

By the time you’ve cum for the fourth time, tears stream down your face. 

“Please,” you sob, the buzz of the vibrator and Taehyung’s moans flooding your brain until there’s nothing left. 

“One more, bun,” Taehyung grunts as he reaches over to pull the wand out of the ropes. He tosses it to the side and replaces it with his fingers, rubbing quick circles over your clit. “Come on, give me one more so we can finish together.” 

The remaining pressure inside of you bursts the moment Taehyung starts playing with your clit. You feel your pussy gush around his cock as you cum even more than before, so much that you can feel it leak down your thighs and soak the bed sheet below you. 

A flurry of pings reminds you that you’re on camera. You can barely think straight long enough to understand what that means when Taehyung lets out a broken moan behind you. 

“Oh fuck, you just squirted, fuck baby, why are you so hot.” Taehyung’s grip on your hips hurts when he finally cums, still thrusting even when you’ve both been pushed beyond overstimulation. 

When he finally pulls out, you sag to the floor. Your entire body aches from being tied up and pounded into, not to mention how sore your ass and clit are from the constant stimulation. 

“You’re trying to kill me,” you accuse weakly as Taehyung takes a deep breath, head thrown back, chest sweaty. He’s still wearing his joggers, and his soft cock hangs over the waistband, shiny with cum. 

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans, running a hand over his face, “Alright, that’s, that’s all for today.” He crawls over to the laptop and gives the camera a salute. “See you all next week, assuming I’ve recovered.” 

The final pings ring out from the laptop before Taehyung snaps it shut and falls back on his butt. He finally tucks his cock back in his pants and turns to where you lie, weak on the floor. 

“Shit, let me get you out of this.” 

You’re in a haze, something floaty and free, like a cloud, and Taehyung caresses your wispy body as he unwraps you. Your head lulls to the side, and you let Taehyung lift your limbs and shift your body until he’s finished with all the ropes. 

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

Content. Satiated. Happy. In love.

“Tired,” you mumble as you stare up at Taehyung. His eyes are bright, and his cheeks are a soft pink, youthful, and pretty. 

“We can take a bath and then go to bed. You’ll stay over?” His voice is a hopeful lilt when he asks, and your stomach flutters. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Taehyung’s mouth morphs into that lopsided grin you pretend to hate so much. 

“I love it when you call me that.” 

“I hate you,” you spit out, but Taehyung kisses you before you can pout more.

It’s a slow kiss, far too gentle for what you’ve all just finished doing. Taehyung sighs into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it, though his lips glide languidly rather than rushed with need like they had before. 

You slip your arms around his broad shoulders and appreciate the stretch of being free from your restraints. 

“You did so well, seriously. I’m really proud of you. You were so sexy and, fuck. I’m…” Taehyung trails off as he helps you stand up, keeping you cradled against his body when you start to sway. “Thank you for doing this with me.” 

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and find no bratty comeback, only a flood of happiness that nearly chokes you. 

“Maybe we can do it again if you wanna,” you offer with your lips against his neck. His skin is salty with sweat, but you flick your tongue against him anyway, just to make him squirm. 

Taehyung pulls back slightly to stare at you. “For real?” 

“If you keep asking, I might change my mind!” 

You try to wiggle out of Taehyung’s arms, but he keeps you close. It’s fine; you don’t really want to be anywhere else but here, pressed against Taehyung’s broad frame, blanketed by his gentle attention.

Even if he is annoying. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

[aaagustd]

greedy | jeon jungkook (m)

title: greedy

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: established relationship, smut, mature/explicit

summary: he gives, you take. you want more? he gives you more. it’s simple.

warnings: just smut, dirty talk, Dom/sub undertones, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, size kink, cervix touching and belly bulging, cum shot, cum play, biting, that should be all

wc: 561

release date: june 30, 2023; 10:34 pm est

note: it's not proofread too well. i tried my best though lol. hope it's good. div cr.

also available on ao3

It was supposed to be movie night—a quiet romantic evening in your living room cuddling with your boyfriend—but that didn’t last.

“So deep… Need to cum.” 

Jungkook ignores your cries. You begged for this, and he reminds you of that.

“You should be careful about what you ask for, baby. No mercy, remember?”

He says this while he watches his arousal-coated dick enter and exit your cunt, fucking you like it’s the last fuck of his life.

Your boyfriend knows you’re close. He can feel the tell-tale sign—you squeezing him like a vice—of another wave of euphoria building inside you. But Jungkook wants you to hold on just a little longer.

This time, he wants both of you to reach the peak together.

Closing your eyes, your lids provide a blanket of darkness thick enough to distract you from the irresistible urge. You pray he finishes soon, as this will only do for so long.

“You need to open your eyes” — Jungkook clenches the flesh of the ankle thrown over his broad shoulder between his teeth — “so you can see how much this pussy loves me.”

Your response is a nod; followed by a jumble of words your lips swiftly dish out in your hazy state, not wanting Jungkook to deny you. He soothes your skin with the pad of his thumb before he averts his gaze to your body.

“Right here, huh?” he whispered.

The warmth of his left palm presses your stomach gently, and he pauses. You prop your upper body on your elbows and watch in awe as the outline of his dick pierces your cervix. There’s so much of him, but you take every inch. If he had more, you’d take that as well.

He makes you watch, and you do it shamelessly. That’s how greedy you are for your man—needy for him—because you can never really get enough of him.

Luckily, he fills you up every time like no one else can.

Jungkook's eyes darken at the sound of you moaning his name, fueling his desire to ruin you right here on your living room couch.

“Feels so good. It’s so big. I… I wanna—”

“Cum?” His assumptions are correct. You plead with him again, and this time you aren’t denied. “You can, baby.”

“Fuck,” you rejoiced.

Jungkook thrusts into you faster, making the top of your head hit the armrest each time he lodges his dick inside your guts. You can feel your muscles tightening as the pressure in your core returns. Soon, your boyfriend’s movements become sporadic. He no longer can resist your warmth and wetness. His voice is rough when he speaks.

“Here I come,” he grunted.

You know what that means. Your hands grip the sofa’s cushions as you brace yourself. Jungkook uses his last bit of energy targeting your g-spot until the coil tightening within your center finally snaps and sends you spiraling into a rapturous high.

Whiteness clouds your vision, and only Jungkook’s angelic voice keeps you in touch with reality. His gentle tone and assuring words calm you down just in time to witness him dumping his load on your sensitive cunt.

He uses his fingers to spread it all over your inner thighs, and once he’s done playing in his sticky mess you meet each other’s gaze.

Damn.

That is the only word either of you can say.

[reiderwriter]

Here Kitty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After you play up in front of all of Spencer's friends, he has to teach you how obedient pets behave.

Warnings: Day Three of Kinktober - Collaring, choking, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, BDSM, Mean Dom! Spencer, sub reader, pet play, use of kitten as a pet name. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Here is the highly requested part two of this fic!! It's day three of Kinktober and I hope you've enjoyed everything so far<3 Just a reminder, five out of seven fics a week are only going up on AO3, so if you missed yesterday's fic, make sure to look for it on the masterlist!!! I hope you enjoyed the exploits of Spencer and his little kitten! My requests are currently open, and my inbox is open for any other kinds of messages too, so if you wanna chat about the Kinktober fics, drop a message (and an emoji if you want to stay anon), and let's talk!

You could hear the confusion from inside as you left the building, letting Reid drag you out by your hands. You put up a little bit of resistance, of course, not one to roll over and take it so easily.

“Spence, what’s wrong?” you giggled, enjoying the way his jaw clenched in annoyance.

“Get in the car, now.” You immediately obeyed, growing more excited as you heard the anger in his voice You’d said no to him tonight, you’d played up in front of his friends, letting them go on believing something that wasn’t true and now he was going to make you pay for it.

He opened the passenger side door for you and you climbed in, making sure to brush your ass against his crotch as you did, teasing him a little bit more.

“Panties off, now,” he demanded again, and you hesitated.

“Spencer, we’re still in the parking lot. Anyone could come out and see us…”

“That didn’t bother you earlier when you were telling our coworkers how we met. Panties.” He held his hand open and you mumbled another ‘yes, sir,’ lifting your ass up to pull the small offending piece of material down your body. Despite your fully black outfit, the panties were bright white, and you felt his gaze travel down your legs as you pushed them further down until they were completely off. You balled them up quickly after that and put them in his hands.

“Good girl, now open up.” You did as he asked and he pushed the panties into your mouth with a quickness that had you moaning, before opening your legs for an inspection.

“Let me see what we have here, is my little kitten wet?” He ghosts his fingers over your clit and your muffled moans confirm his words as he slips between your folds.

“Shhh, baby. We’re still in the parking lot, after all.” He smirks through the words and pulls the panties out of your mouth again, discarding them in the back of his beat-up car. He thrusts three fingers in you then, not bothering to work one in at a time, knowing already that you can take it.

“Listen to yourself, kitten, you’re so fucking desperate for me, letting me touch you out in the open like this.”

“Yes, sir, want you so bad, need everyone to know.” You moaned, grinding into his fingers as he leaned over you in your seat, watching the way his fingers grew wetter and wetter with each thrust.

“What do you need, baby?” He asked, whispering it into your ear as you grew closer and closer to your climax.

“Need to cum, sir, please can I cum?” You begged him, desperate for him to keep going, to be nice today of all days and listen to your pleas. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you alone in the car as he slams the passenger side door and lets himself into the driver's side.

You whimper slightly as he pulls your seatbelt around you, fastening it, but not coming close enough to make contact and avoiding your lips when you lean into him.

“I’m going to assume that collar came with a lead, kitten. Did you bring it with you?” He asks, fastening his own seatbelt and starting the car. You nod shyly and reach for the purse you had since discarded on the ground, pulling out a small leather strap about a meter in length.

“Perfect, baby. Put it on for me.” He whispered and then didn’t say anything as he drove you back to his apartment. You pulled up quickly, the bar only a ten-minute drive from where he lived, and he got out of the car and came around to collect you.

“No talking back, okay baby? Give me the lead.” He said, opening your door for you. Reluctantly, you passed it to him, not certain where he was going with this. He gave it a quick yank and you moaned, following his small tugs out of the car. He kept a tight grip on the lead and wrapped a possessive hand around your waist as he pulled you further toward his apartment building.

“Stay quiet, kitten, okay? Wouldn’t want the neighbors to come out and see you like this, right?” You nodded, feeling yourself grow more needy as he laid out the risks for you. The first time Spencer had fucked you it had been in public, with similar threats and promises whispered into your ears like confessions to a priest. He knew you liked it, knew your moans were so loud because you liked the idea of other people listening in, wanting everyone to know that you were a little whore in heat that couldn’t get enough of him.

When you finally were over the threshold of his apartment, he pushed you roughly to your knees, still holding onto the lead, and moved further into the apartment, finally reaching the edge of his chair and sitting himself down.

“Crawl to me, kitten,” he demanded, and you obeyed, swaying your hips seductively as you slowly moved closer to him, his eyes trained on you the entire time, giving sharp tugs to the lead every time he thought you were taking too long.

“Perfect, kitten, good listening. I want you face down in my lap now, okay? Stick your ass up nicely for me, okay baby?” He whispered as soon as you came close enough, and you obeyed again, bracing yourself for what was coming.

“You were a naughty little slut today, so I’m going to have to punish you baby. This is so you learn, you know. I’m doing this all for you,” he said rubbing your ass tenderly before raising it up and bringing it back down again, hard, striking you quickly. You moaned in response, feeling your juices begin to flow down your leg, so turned on by his every action. With his free hand, he grabbed you by the neck and squeezed, making you arch your back as he struck you again and again. It was a few minutes before he was done and you were a drooling mess on his lap. You’d made a mess on his pants, the material going darker in the patch where your pussy had been. Similarly, your red lipstick was smudged around your lips from where your tongue had hung desperately out of your mouth. With each hit, he tenderly ran a hand over your buttcheeks, apologizing for the pain he had to inflict on you for your own good.

He picked you up off his lap then but didn’t carry you far, instead setting you back against the cold floor of his living room, pulling the top of your dress down before pushing your now protruding nipples into the ground. Legs dead from the spanking, he maneuvered you into the position he wanted you in, your face against the floor, hips raised, putting your pussy on display for him as he finally unzipped his pants and freed his aching cock.

Grabbing the lead again, he gave it another tug, turning your head so you would look back at him as he took you from behind, lining his tip up with your pussy and thrusting all the way in without even another word. Your brain had since switched itself off, content to let him use you in any way fit, to be a moaning mess around him as he pounded away at you, used you to chase his own pleasure. He never left you alone though, and his hand snaked around your waist as he pounded away into you, finding your bundle of nerves and rubbing it in time with his strokes.

“That’s it kitten, cum on my cock, cum for me now my little whore.” His thrusts grew sloppy and you knew he was close, pushing yourself back onto him as you chased both of your highs. Yours came first, pouring over you in a haze, and his followed soon after, as you let out a long whiny moan feeling him unload deep inside of you before collapsing down on top of you.

You both fell to the floor wrapped up in each other and giggled slightly, coming back down to earth in your post-sex clarity.

“Do you think they liked me?” you whispered to him as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, kissing your forehead.

“I’m more worried that some of them liked you a little too much, kitten. Did you see the way Emily stared at you? And Derek?” He pouted a little into your skin as he pressed another kiss to your face.

“Well, after all that, I’m sure they know who I belong to.”

[hotluncheddie]

Day 7: Daddy Steve

"Softly"

Ao3

wc: 2.5k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship (they're in love), soft dom Steve Harrington, anal sex, crying, pet names, Eddie Munson needs a hug

written for @subeddieweek <3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Some days are just too much. Everything crawling up too high and burying Eddie where he stands. Days where he just can't handle it anymore. Needs a break. Some care. A little softness.

It's been one of those days. 

The car Eddie’s working on just doesn’t want to run right and he heard a customer whispering to his boss, Jimmy, about his scars. Assuming it made Eddie someone untrustworthy; ‘you really want him in your shop Jim?’. 

Jimmy set them straight but it really set Eddie’s teeth on edge. They’re not in Hawkins anymore, but sometimes, it feels like he never got away. Still a suspect. Still a freak. 

Eddie slips into their apartment, shoving off his shoes and jacket. It's not so cold out anymore but he’s still got a henley on under his overalls, he pulls those half off and ties them at his waist. He keeps the henley firmly in place though. Pulling the sleeves further down over his hands. 

The scars over his forearms aren’t even that noticeable, some of his faintest. But that guy, at the shop, he noticed. He noticed and it made Eddie’s skin crawl. 

Steve is at the stove in their tiny kitchen, stirring something and humming to a song on the radio. 

Eddie stalks over, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. ‘Good day?’ Steve asks from his spot, eyes already trained on Eddie, on the knit of his shoulders. 

Eddie grunts, taking a pull from the can. Not looking directly at Steve, at his soft eyes. 

Eddie doesn’t deserver them.  

‘Okay then, bad day.’ Steve jokes but it rips something up in Eddie. Pulls at his sinew, makes his scars itch. Everyone seems to know everything about him already, knows all his secrets, who he is. And maybe they do, his past is already laid out all over his skin anyway. 

‘Need to talk about it?’ Steve asks, but it sounds so patronising, so, so. 

‘God, just shut up Steve!’ Eddie scoffs, slamming his can down on the counter and turning away, arms crossed. 

He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth. 

Steve takes Eddie's outburst in stride, slowly taking him in his arms, wrapping around his back and hooking his chin over his shoulder. ‘Steve? Not heard that one in a long time.’ A soft kiss to Eddie's temple. ‘What happened to Stevie?’ Steve rubs his cheek up against Eddies. ‘Or sweetheart?’ Buries his face in Eddie's neck. ‘Or doll, hm?’

Eddie turns so they’re facing. Letting the weight of the day, the guilt over his outburst show on his face, in the slouch of his shoulders. 

‘That bad huh?’ Steve asks, running his eyes over Eddie's expression. 

Eddie sniffs. ‘M’sorry. Don’t, please don’t shut up.’ He pleads, wishing he could rewind time 30 minutes, rewind to this morning. Do it all over. 

Steve cups Eddie’s face in his hands, holding him up and looking right into him. ‘What do you need?’ Steve asks, forcing eye contact. 

Eddie blinks, breaths in through his nose but his exhale gets choked on a sob. Fuck, it’s been such a bad fucking day. ‘I need to not fucking think for a while, don’t, don’t wanna exist anymore Stevie. Just wanna be here, be yours.’ He pleads, eyes on Steve’s soft brown ones. He feels tears sliding down his cheeks and snot filing his nose. 

Steve hushes him, pulling Eddie into his neck and Eddie sobs. He cries ugly and loud and stains Steves shirt with his tears.But he can’t stop, felt too much today. Too bad.

He can’t do it tonight, exist. Wants to hide, needs it. 

Stroking his hand over Eddie’s hair Steve hold him close, swaying them gently on the kitchen tiles and Steve statrs to hum again. Eddie thinks it’s Fleetwood Mac but he can’t really hear over the sound of his own ragged breathing. He just knows Steve is there, that Steve’s got him. 

Eddie cries until he can’t anymore. 

Once his breathings back to normal Steve pulls his head back out. Lifting his own shirt up to wipe Eddie’s face clean. Eddie grimaces because, gross. But Steve just has this little smile on his face, private and grounding and Eddie goes still. Lets Steve do as he pleases and just focuses on breathing. 

Steve kisses his forehead once he’s done. ‘Go shower for me now Ed’s, yeah? It'll help you relax. I’ll make you some food.’ Eddie stiffens slightly at having to leave Steve’s arms. But, a shower does sound nice. Chance to scrub the grease and sweat from his hair and skin. 

Eddie nods and Steve kisses his cheek, murmurs ‘good’. Eddie bites his lips as he shuffles away. 

-

Eddie opens the shower curtain to see a small pile of clothes sitting in the toilet seat. A pair of loose shorts and one of Steve’s old crewnecks. Both Eddie’s favourites, they’re worn with age so they’re soft and usually reside in Steve’s side of the draws, making them smell a little more like him. 

Eddie feels his shoulders dip further, tension spilling away. Takes Steve’s quiet instruction, his love filled action, puts on the clothes and breathes deep.   

He smells Steve’s cooking, hears him singing softly through the walls, definitely Fleetwood Mac. 

After they eat, Steve insists on doing the dishes while Eddie drinks tea - watching Steve, waiting for him to be done - before they move to the couch. 

With the TV on low and main light off, Eddie finally feels his shoulders relax fully. Able to finally focus on just this.

Now, here, with Steve. 

Eddie straddles Steve's thighs, making himself as small as possible in his lap, hooking his feet behind Steve's calves. Tangling them till they’re one, connected. 

Eddies closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of Steve below him, the softness of his sweats against the backs of his legs, the rise and fall of his ribs. Pushing his forehead into Steve sternum Eddie shifts his fingers up under the hem of his t-shirt. Taking a deep breath as his fingers roam over Steve's soft healed sides, over his stomach and up to his pecs. Eddie cups them and squeezes, trying to fill all his senses with nothing but Steve. 

Steve's voice is honey warm as he speaks quietly into Eddie's hair. ‘You want Mommy tonight baby?’ And Eddie gasps, looks up at him with watery eyes, feeling caught. 

Until Steve is trailing soft fingertips over his face and jaw, over his fluttering eyelids and ears, over the scar that makes the side of his mouth droop. 

So faintly, Eddie worries Steve will miss it, he shake his head and keeps his eyes closed. Swallows around the lump in his throat. ‘Tell me what you need baby.’ Steve hums, still close, still touching. 

‘Daddy.’ He whispers, softly, into Steve's fingers at his lips, breathing it into his bones. A secret confession, a little bit of his insides spilt outwards.  

Steve ‘hmm’s’ in quiet understanding, kissing the corner of Eddie's scarred mouth, the tip of his nose, the furrow between his brows. ‘I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, yeah?’ 

‘Need it. I’m sorry, just, I. I need it.’ Eddie's voice wavers, his eyes screw up tight. The relentlessness of the day, the week, claw at him again, fill up his lungs, fit to drown him. 

‘Hey, hey it’s okay. Whatever you want. You’re doing perfect. Answered my question so perfect Ed’s, okay?’ Steve smooths his hands over Eddie’s back, repetitive and grounding. ‘It’s just us, remember? Just us here. I’ve got you.’  

Eddie nods dumbly, feels tears prickle his eyes. He takes a shuddery breath and tries to focus on letting the day drift away from him again. The soft blanket of ‘Steve’ and ‘home’ and ‘safe’ taking its place.

They stay like that, Eddie clinging and Steve holding him through it. Letting him relax enough to fall, to dip. Softly Steve trails fingers through Eddie's scalp, scratching lightly, tucking his hair behind his ears. Starts tapping Eddie's lip with his thumb, toying with it, playing with the seam of them. Waiting. He’s always so patient with Eddie, when Eddie gets like this. 

Fisting the neckline of Steve’s sweatshirt Eddie inches impossible closer, sandwiching his forearms between their two chests. Nuzzling at Steve’s nose with his own. ‘Say it again’ Steve whispers into his mouth. In that way that's a little demanding but still playful, cocky, unbelievably Steve.  

Eddie leans away just slightly to see Steve’s eyes, hooded, with pupils blown impossibly wide. Eddie's insides churn.  

‘Daddy.’

Steve buries his hands in Eddie’s hair and brings their mouths together. Crashing into a kiss that's teeth and spit and soft need. Eddie keens at the sensation, how all consuming it is, when Steve kisses him. 

They kiss until there’s no breath left in Eddies lungs, until the spit on his chin threatens to slide down his neck, until he feels the tip of his cock sticking to the fabric of his shorts. 

Steve pulls him away gently by the hair, just enough for them to suck in greedy lungfuls, sharing the air between them. Eddie breaks. ‘You, you say it again.’ He demands, desperate. 

‘Say what, hm? Tell me what you want Eddie.’ Steve moves strands of hair away from Eddies face, bit by tiny bit, preening him, taking his time. 

‘Want you to say it again, call me it again.’ Eddie pants, unable to catch his breath. he needs it. 

Leaning in close Steve tucks some of Eddies hair back behind his ear, sweeps it over his shoulder. Ghosting his lips over the shell of his ear Eddie feels the smile pulling at Steves lips. Goosebumps break out over his thighs.

‘Baby.’ 

Eddie full body shivers. Feels his vision tunnel with the sweet floaty feeling that comes when he’s held like this, talked to like this. Allowed to be, like this, with Steve.  

Whining Eddie shoves lightly at Steve's chest to get their faces back together. Kissing and kissing and kissing, Eddie whines into Steve's mouth as he sucks on Eddie's tongue, swallowing each other's moans and Eddie can’t help canting his hips forwards, grinding in tight little circles on Steve's lap.

‘Does baby want anything special?’ Steve asks, tongue still dipping in and out of Eddie’s mouth.  

Eddie shakes his head, still close, needs to be close. ‘Just want you. Want Daddy.’ he sounds desperate, feels desperate. 

Steve kisses him again, slowing them. Pecks Eddies cheeks, his nose.

And it’s done sweetly. Steve always so sweet, and soft, with Eddie. Only getting mean if he asks for it, only going harder if Eddie begs. 

‘Bedroom.’ Steve says into Eddies cheek. Stealing another kiss but stopping the movement of Eddies hips with firm hands at his waist. 

-

‘Fuck, you look so pretty on my cock baby.’ Steve pants. ‘So beautiful Eddie, always.’ 

Eddie whines and squirms, arms above his head, turning his face to rub his cheek against the pillow. He bites the inside of his arm as Steve thrusts especially deep, groaning above him. 

‘Say it.’ Steve says. ‘Say it for me baby.’ 

‘Ah fuck, fuck. Love your cock Daddy, love having your cock inside me.’ Eddie says, the filthy plea zinging up his spine and making his cock twitch. 

Steve strokes him, lightly, way too lightly. Thumbing his wet tip. Collecting Eddie’s pre and presents his wet thumb for him. Eddie opens his mouth greedily, sucking the digit clean. 

‘Say the rest of it baby.’ Steve insists. ‘Daddy needs to hear you say it.’ 

Eddie furrows his brows, confused, mind too fuzzy. Then a deep blush spreads across his face, down his neck. 

‘Daddy.’ Eddie pleads. He doesn’t. He can’t. 

Steve slows his thrusts and Eddie thrashes, still feeling the drag so deep as Steve bottoms out each time, but he’s grinding so slow it sets Eddies skin on fire. 

Eddie crosses his arms over his eyes, pouting. ‘I’m ah I’m- I’m beautiful Daddy.’ His chest rising and falling, breathing shakily through his nose. 

‘That’s is. So good.’ Steve placates. Leaning over Eddie to talk in his ear, pushing him deeper into the mattress. ‘Again.’ 

‘I’m, I’m beautiful.’ Eddie feels tears threaten to spill over his lash line. Feels his heart beat in his ears. Feels Steve’s stubble against his cheek. 

Steve kisses over Eddie’s jaw and neck. Over his scarred skin. Following the lines of his healed sutures, raised and jagged. Steve mouths over them, following the trail back up to Eddies mouth. ‘So so beautiful baby. Such a good boy for Daddy.’ 

Eddie can’t contains the sob that escapes him. ‘Daddy please.’ He whimpers,

He doesn’t want to talk anymore. 

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s knee, pushing it into his chest. ‘I know, I know baby. Gonna give you what you need yeah? You’ve been so good, so perfect.’ 

With a final kiss to Eddie’s mouth Steve hauls himself back up and resumes the previous pace. Thrusting deep and quick and Eddie moans, feeling split open and raw. Feels his cheeks wet with tears and he knows he’s being loud but his mind is so so quiet. Nothing but the feeling of Steve and the blanket of getting taken care of. 

‘My pretty boy. My baby. You’re everything Eddie, my everything. I love you so much, love you more than anything.’ Steve pants out and Eddie cries. Tears falling into his hairline, cheeks warm and he’s probably splotchy all the way down his chest but Steve pushes into him deeper, speeding up and grazing that spot within him. 

Eddie feels his orgasm build inside him. A string of wet ‘ah ah ah’s’ leaving his lips, in time with Steve’s quick thrusts. 

Steve changed angle, leaning over Eddie again, holding himself up on his palms. Able to get impossibly deeper, Eddie feeling him up his spine, in his mouth, all over. 

‘Together baby, together.’ Steve pants, wrapping one giant hand around Eddie, fisting in time with his thrusts. Which are getting sloppier, but still so deep. 

Eddie arches of the bed, hands grasping for purchase on Steve’s broad shoulders, his neck. Their chests pressing together as Steve bottoms out again. Tugging on Eddie just right, filling him up with a deep moan. ‘Daddy.’ Eddie wails, cumming all over their stomachs and chests, some hitting his chin as he gulps for breath. Fingers still digging into Steve’s skin, keeping him close. 

Steve grinds his softening cock into Eddie, sinking down on top of him, a deep body pressure. Eddie drifts. 

Steve is laying on his side mouthing at Eddie’s neck, leaving soft kisses over his skin and scars, up over his cheeks. Eddie groans, turning and wrapping his arms around Steve. Crowding in closer so their bodies are back flush. 

Steve hums, petting Eddie’s hair and kissing the crown of his head. ‘Back with me again sleepy head?’ He asks. 

Eddie grunts, nibbling at Steves collarbone, mouthing and smoothing his lips over Steves soft skin. Eddie still feeling fragile, a little quiet, and needy. 

But so, so much better than before. 

‘Thank you.’ He mumbles, voice wobbling, but he’s too tired to cry any more today. 

‘Baby.’ Steve coos, kissing Eddie’s head again. ‘No need for that, want to help. Love you so much Ed’s, always.’ 

Eddie sniffs again, hiding in the darkness of Steve’s chest, hiding away in his heart, in his bones. Still awed by the beauty and kindness of his soul. 

He knows Steve’s got him, will let him rest there, basking and healing. Until he’s ready to face it all again. 

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - 💋💑

Day 15 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING - NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

My headcanons of ~lovemaking~ with the Papas

Primo

Perfectly content to lay on his back and watch you ride, too old and tired to do anything wild and crazy

Had lots of wild sexventures in his youth and is happy to have missionary or cowgirl sex for the rest of his days

Refers to the act as “making love” for general sex, or “fornication” for a quickie

Always conscious about wearing a condom

Lots of kissing and cute pet names

Rarely, if ever, says he loves you but treats you so sweetly you know he does

Switch but mostly a pleasure dom

Won’t stop until you cum

Surprisingly gentle touch

Painfully aware of the size of his member and makes sure to ease into you and makes sure you’re very wet and ready for him

Secondo

Prefers to let you ride him but he controls the motions and speed from the bottom

Also loves spooning you so he can reach around to your front

Has a good read on facial expressions and can generally tell what you’re in the mood for and pays attention to your body language during sex

Comes prepared with toys, lube, condoms, dilators, and other accouterments

Loves to play with your nipples

Leaves you one of his button down shirts to wear afterwards

Indulges in a cigar or cigarette, or a glass of whiskey, in bed with you after

Almost always a dom and will play it rough when you want it

Easily makes you cum multiple times

Wants to service and be serviced by his sub

Loves facefucking you

Terzo

Romantic gestures- lights lot of candles, spreads rose petals on the floor and bed, dims the lights, draws you a bubble bath, sends you roses or a lunch delivery at work

Seduces you all day through texts which include “So what are you wearing? 😼” and “Wanna fuck?”

Has an extensive toy collection

He calls the act fucking but definitely adjusts to the mood/vibe depending on whether you want it slow or fast

Desperate to get you off multiple times

Won’t let himself cum until you have at least once before him

Studies your body’s reactions so he knows when you’re about to have an orgasm

Gets turned on by turning you on

LOTS of foreplay and lots of lube

Consistently asks if you’re comfortable

Likes to switch positions a lot

LOVES doggystyle because it makes him feel bigger

Is relieved when you say you’re on birth control but has condoms in his room and office just in case

Loves cumming inside you but also loves to spill his seed on your chest and see how much you milked him

Switch, but can easily adapt to whatever works in his partner dynamic

Cardinal Copia

Finishes quickly and is a little ashamed about it but is assured when you tell him it’s okay and you know he’s just so turned on by you that he couldn’t help it

Sniffs your underwear you left in his room the night before to get hard again and anticipate the next time

Nearly cums his pants just during the makeout session pre-sex

Carries a condom in his wallet

Wants you to undress him

Surprised and overjoyed if he makes you cum but often confuses your moans as orgasms even if you haven’t yet

Keeps asking “Is this okay?”

Acts like a Casanova IRL but when it’s just the two of you he gets a little shy

Not sure how to incorporate toys but is willing to try

Popia

He absolutely calls it “making love”

Has clear distinctions between just fucking and lovemaking

Absolutely loves facing one another on your sides, one leg hooked over your hip to press you up and down on his cock, so he can look you in the eyes and kiss your face

Loves missionary too

Almost more excited for foreplay and the chance to see you naked than (penetrative) sex

Whispers “I love you, I love you” while kissing your face

Switch; wants to fuck you and also get fucked

Proud if he can get you off multiple times in one session

Can sense if something is wrong or you’re uncomfortable and will stop immediately

Lowkey begging you to peg/top him since you started dating. He’s never tried it but wants you to dominate him

Enjoys cumming inside you because he’s never felt closer to another human than in that intimate moment. The first time he said he loved you was when he came inside you for the first time

[folkookie97]

❝ pride & arrogance ❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝ If his pride and arrogance incapacitated him from saying what he felt, then he would show you everything. ❞

— PAIRING: boyfriend!jungkook x female!reader

— TYPE: mild smut

— WORD COUNT: 985

— WARNINGS: smoker!Jungkook, mature language, edging, slight praise kink, punishment, slight bondage kink, mention of argument, soft dom!Jungkook x sub!reader, mention of squirting, mention of marijuana, use of pet names, slight dumbification, overstimulation

— NOTES: OH MYYYY HOW CAN THIS MAN BEING SO HOT WHILE SMOKING?

— RELEASE DATE: September 12, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

Body lying on the bedsheets. Head towards the ceiling. Hands tied with a pink rope. A ball gag stuck in your mouth. White lace lingerie. A vibrator pressing onto the fabric and fixed there due to the knots helding it.

That was how you felt at the moment. No possibility of moving or even protesting against the marks that were beginning to appear on your skin.

No possibility of moaning every second an orgasm invaded your body.

You had lost track of how many times you felt tears running down your face and felt a pressure starting at the foot of your stomach, leaving you feeling high. Everything seemed like a white blur as the minutes passed and you struggled to keep your eyes open. Watching the gray paint on the ceiling was the only thing that's stopping you from giving into your body tiredness.

As much as you knew Jungkook would stop everything if you signaled your safeword — if your two feet hit each other three times in a row — you weren't in the mood to end it. You were becoming greedier every time the vibrator changed speed or restarted the vibration over your clit.

Sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room, Jungkook knew your needs better than anyone. The sight of your pussy soaking your damp panties indicated that you were close to your next orgasm.

Standing up with a cigarette still in his hands, he inhaled the small cylinder and held the smoke in his throat for a few seconds before expelling it in short bursts.

Walking in short steps, Jungkook came close to your bed, resting both knees on the mattress and having a better view of your face. Cheeks stained with thick tears and eyes still sparkling and tried hard not to give into exhaustion. Nose red from crying and slightly damp. The midsize ball gag made your lips more swollen and red, causing excessive spit that ran down your mouth corners.

Completely submissive. A sight that might look pathetic in any other man's eyes, but for Jungkook it was the hottest scene he'd ever seen in his entire twenty-six years of life.

"You look so beautiful like that, my kitty." Jungkook praised you and you felt your heart warming. "You can look at me now."

When Jungkook brought the necessary permission, you blinked once, clearing away the tears and looking at him. Jungkook was above your body, his dark and cut hair looking messy after the party. A cigarette in his hand indicating the stress of the situation hit him hard and he was trying to distract himself while you played your role as his sub and masochist girlfriend.

Even though the vibrator was still stimulating your clit, the speed was considerably slow after you wet the sheets last time cumming. Jungkook knew your limits and knew squirting more than once in less than ten minutes could result in your safeword being said. Lowering the speed would delay your next orgasm and it was the better choice.

Especially when an idea appears in his mind.

"You wanna give me head?"

You shook your head, furrowing your eyebrows in an expression that made Jungkook compare you to a whiner kitty. Letting out a little chuckle, Jungkook took his free hand to your cheek and left some cuddles on your tear-soaked skin.

You watched Jungkook take another drag on his cigarette before placing it in the ashtray on the table next to your bed. He blew the smoke into the air and returned his full attention to your eyes. He undid the lock on the object in your mouth and left you free to recover yourself.

Your entire jaw hurt from how long the small ball prevented you from closing your mouth. The spit dripping down your chin wasn't pleasant, however, you knew you'd need it for what happened next. You really wanted to not only please Jungkook, but you also wanted to apologize for the whole situation that led both of you there.

"Are you in pain now?" Jungkook asked and you denied it, shaking your head so fast that a dizziness hit you barely five seconds later. "Use your words, kitty."

"Sorry, Sir. I'm not."

Jungkook smiled, losing some of his dominant expression and taking on a gentle glow as his eyes diminished. Maybe it was due to your obedience from answering to him with his correct form of treatment. Or maybe the fact Jungkook knew that you were indeed in pain.

He couldn't be mad even though he knew you were hiding this secret. After all, you just wanted to please him.

An idea crossed Jungkook's mind, all his anger already fading.

"You were a good girl. You were so fucking good for me." Jungkook began, stroking your cheeks as if it was so precious. "Are you really sorry for what you did before?"

A pain struck your heart. God... regret had been gnawing at your mind since the two of you got home. You didn’t want to fight with him, it was never your intention to make him angry. Just as it was never your intention to curse him in front of his friends while the whole group shared some cigarettes and marijuana.

"Yes, sir... I'm sorry for everything I said and everything I did for you."

It wasn't the best apology Jungkook had ever received. It was simple words and almost so shallow that at another point he would force you to rephrase everything you said and demand better submission.

However, Jungkook knew this was for you best due to your angry personality and the pain in your body.

And in the end, Jungkook knew that he also hadn't been as good a boyfriend as he should have been. He also deserved to apologize.

And if his pride and arrogance incapacitated him from saying what he felt, then he would show you everything.

[sytoran]

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍!

you're a little too obsessed with natasha's boobs.

──── 🐻‍❄ pairing. dom!perv!reader x sub!innocent!nat

──── 🐻‍❄ cont. smut (18+), gn!reader, smut, college!au, corruption, loss of innocence, pretty girl kink (is that a thing?), natasha is babyy, i love tiddies, slight elements of non-con.

──── 🐻‍❄ note. my self-indulgent little fic of innocent!nat and slightly non-con corruption. excuse my behaviour on the internet.

masterlist / AO3

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

being natasha romanoff’s roommate had its perks, surely.

prettiest girl on campus, with the sweetest laugh you had ever heard, too smart for her own good — and far too innocent to let slip past your predatory mannerisms.

no, of course, you never did show it. keeping natasha under the guise of ignorance was just far too entertaining.

whenever you would emerge from the shower wearing less, with hot steam and wet hair, you took pride in the way natasha would frantically look away. chewing into her bottom lip, suddenly all jumpy and flustered. burying her nose into a book, and you would ask her a casual question, and the redhead would stutter over her words like she hadn’t aced every english oral examination.

whenever you got a little too touchy with her, pressing a hand up against the small of her back in crowded areas, leaning down to rasp something in her ear — natasha’s ears would burn up, and her knees would nearly buckle. then you, oh so easily slipping an arm around her waist, strolling around campus without giving a damn about what anyone else whispered.

whenever you glared at the guys who showed a cent of interest in her, crossing your arms and eyes narrowing, until it was blaringly obvious and the unfortunate soul could do nothing but walk away awkwardly. then for the next week, you would forcefully be a little closer around her, your hands dancing lower on her back each time.

all these ‘innocent’ actions, natasha pushed away any alternative solution because it was really just friendly gestures — you were looking out for her, that was all.

like when your hands would so often graze over her chest, gentle but enough to raise suspicion.

natasha saw the way your eyes darkened whenever she chose to wear little white dresses or anything of the sort.

or like that time natasha complained that she was so sore, aching all over, and it was almost immediately that your hands found her back, lifting up her shirt to massage her back.

despite the insistence of incredulous ‘what are you doing’s, natasha couldn’t hold back the little breathy whines when your hands skated over her bare back, focusing on places you really shouldn’t.

natasha tried to brush it off as ‘simple friendly gestures’, but were you really looking out for her, when things went a little bit too far?

“are- are you okay?” natasha asked softly, approaching you cautiously. she sat down beside you on your bed, face scrunched into an expression of worry.

oh, you had been mad all day, and natasha couldn’t bear to see you like that.

you were laying on your bed, exhausted, black tank top ridden up to expose a hint of skin. natasha wasn’t staring. she really wasn’t.

“s’fine, pretty girl. let me rest, okay?” you answered, offhandedly, sleepy and even slightly annoyed, but affectionate nonetheless.

your fingers went to trace up and down her arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. you smiled at her hitched breaths. she always so shy.

“no,” natasha said firmly, or at least she tried to. “you’re mad. i don’t you to be mad. i wanna help you feel better.”

she didn’t miss the way your face faltered for a moment, cool demeanour slipping away for a fraction of a second. it was in that moment, that frame of time, that she knew she uncovered some side of you she had never seen before.

“...you sure?” you asked, dryly, focusing on her properly now.

natasha was always so perfect, so innocent and so pretty, and you would be lying if you said some sick part of you didn’t crave to taint that innocence. she was just too… delectable.

the redhead nodded eagerly, moving closer to you. your eyes darted down to her now exposed cleavage, so full and ample. you licked your lips, imperceptibly.

“okay. then you lie down first, pretty girl.”

you could see the confusion settle in her eyes, but natasha obediently obeyed, as she laid down, head propped up on a soft pillow. her crimson hair splayed out in all directions.

under your scrutinizing gaze, she nervously toyed with the lace of her white top. and that image of her, all vulnerable for you – it made something stir inside of you.

without restraint, you let your hands wander.

“are you sure you’re supposed to- oh!” natasha gasped, when fingertips rested on the swell of her breasts. you pressed a little, on her nipples, through the fabric. she squirmed.

"good girl," you whispered, leaning down to press a kiss atop her forehead.

"wait, wait-" natasha mumbled breathlessly, body jerking upwards, your hands impatiently slipping under her top to cup her breasts through a lace bra.

you frowned at her disobedience, not bothering to stop. if you didn't have her now, you think you might explode.

"you said you wanted me to feel better, right, pretty girl? so be good and let me touch you, okay?" you asked, massaging her tits now.

natasha bit her bottom lip, nodding shakily. she wanted to say no, wanted to stop, but she couldn't, not when you were making her feel things she had never felt before.

and she had this odd craving to be good for you. so good, to listen to your every word.

in tandem with that sentiment, your hands moved faster. massaging and kneading her breasts, fingers digging into soft flesh.

you were using her tits like some sort of stress ball, just hard and fast. natasha tried to twist away from your unyielding gaze.

"don't you hide that cute face from me. i wanna see all of you."

the moan natasha let out surprised the both of you.

god, she was so perfect. so wet, so easy, so malleable.

"let me suck on your tits, pretty girl," you breathed, thumb encircling her rubied nipple.

"i- i don't know…" natasha responded hesitantly, trying to push your head back. but her body was betraying her, keening for your sinful touch once again.

you ignored her, instead catching her wrists with one hand and swiftly pinning it above her.

"all mine," you growled to yourself mostly, mouth moving to wrap your lips around her cute stiff nipple.

natasha cried.

your tongue was swirling around her hardened nip, mouth wrapping her whole tit in your mouth. sucking, then licking, then biting, and natasha could’ve sworn she saw stars.

"what pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" you asked lowly, hot breath making the tip of her breasts just a little harder.

her flushed, embarrassed face was all too tell-tale.

“feels- feels weird down there,” natasha tried, her hips already keening for your thigh. you exhaled sharply.

“well, i can’t do anything about that.” you said with faux sympathy. it was too soon.

“no, i know!” natasha insisted, bottom lip quivering, clutching onto your forearm tighter. “that- that time, during the football match, when you went under the bleachers with the cheerleader- and, and at the back of the biology lecture, i know you did- with the blonde girl, y- you did-”

“what did i do, mhm?” you pressed forward now, a predatory grin making its way onto your face. your hands travelled over her soft skin, spreading open her thighs, slow and easy. “you tell me first, pretty girl.”

natasha shifted, trying to look away, but you used two fingers to tilt her chin back to you, forcing her to maintain eye contact. she whimpered. “tell me, pretty girl, or i won’t do anything at all.”

“i- i can’t say,” natasha whispered shakily, jerking when your hand slipped past the waistband of her shorts, fingertips dancing agains the hot skin above her core.

“was it something like that?” you asked, lowly now, fingers tracing the outline of her lace panties. you grunted at the wet spot growing there, pressing a little harder.

natasha nodded frantically, unintentionally grinding against your palm, pretty little whines like music to your ears. she was all hot and flustered, so messy and so innocent. your eyes glazed over again.

there was this sick little voice, in the back of your head, telling you to find the biggest strap-on you had, and absolutely demolish the spent, quivering mess that was natasha. you fought your hardest to quell those sinful desires.

slow. patient.

you pushed your fingers up, forcing her panties to touch her sodden folds. natasha mewled, cried, because it felt so wrong, but she had never felt better.

“m-more, please,” she whispered between breathy gasps, bucking her hips up.

"what pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" you said with a lazy smirk, stroking the side of her pretty face.

your other hand was still buried in her little shorts, knuckles pressing against her throbbing from the outside of her panties.

natasha’s floating consciousness was somewhere in the galaxy. but with you by her side, she had never felt more grounded rocking against your palm. your hand on her hip, muttering ‘pretty girl’ into her ear.

the redhead’s mind was in a daze as you sped up, knuckles going up and down her folds, unable to focus. up and down, then up and down again, but harder and faster, and she was so close to doing something-

but then you stopped your movements.

natasha’s eyes flew open.

“what- no, no- why’d you stop? i was going to-”

“naughty girl, you can’t.” you said easily, slipping your fingers out of her shorts, coated in her wetness. "you’re too good, too pretty. you don’t even know what you want, hm? can’t even say it.”

you stilled her still moving hips, denying her of any pleasure.

natasha fell into silence, cheeks reddening once again. she might not have known much, but she did know that she had been awfully close to some type of release, the knot in her stomach and the throbbing in her clit being a surefire sign of that.

but then tears were threatening to spill from the sides of her eyes, because you never treated her like you did to the other girls.

whenever you came to the room in the wee hours of the night with odd purple marks on your neck and hand stiffer than usual, natasha knew it wasn’t a “late night run.”

“but you touch the other girls,” natasha tried to insist again, pressing her tits up against your arm. “and you make them make sounds, the good kind.” her tears fell, unabashedly, and you stilled. “why- am i not as good as them?”

at her revelation of insecurity, you sighed, propping yourself up to place a soft kiss on her neck.

“hey, pretty baby,” you murmured, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks. “you’re perfect, okay? wanna keep you like that. next time i can show you, but you’re not allowed to do anything yourself. only me, okay?”

the redhead nodded eagerly, wiping away her tears, clinging on to the false promise that you would let her experience that high in due time.

but the lie had fallen far too easily from your sinful lips, because you never did intend to let her cum.

she was just too innocent.

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @matchasrad @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 wanna be added to the taglist to see more works like this? leave an ask in my inbox!if by any chance you want to be removed from the taglist, also leave an ask in my inbox.

posting this to see how my luck goes with community labels. tumblr shd be fixing the issue. reblogs are appreciated :)

headers are from @u-uwin!

masterlist / AO3

[flrlgreen]

pain, pleasure (kento nanami x reader)

a/n: posting my nanami one shot from ao3 on here! i apologize if i miss anything or don't tag something correctly.

MINORS DNI

content warnings: explicit, use of the names slut, whore, and good girl, nanami is very mean, reader has a pussy, exhibitionism, hair pulling, punishment, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, eye contact, fingering, crying, dom and sub dynamics, vaginal sex, begging

“P-please Nanamin!~” You say out of breath. You avoid making eye contact with the man who had a fistful of your hair as you were too embarrassed. As soon as your desperate plea leaves your mouth his grip on your roots gets even tighter and he forces your face up and forces your face closer to his. Forcing you to make eye contact with him. 

“Fucking look at me, whore. Don’t look away.” Nanami’s rich and deep voice makes your lips tremble. His other strong hand was buried between your legs. He was fingering you at an aggressive and vigorous pace. The squelches filled the room as the speed of his fingers sped up more and more. All while he didn’t even loosen his grip on your hair. His pupils were blown out and full of lust. His brown eyes were almost completely black.

“M’ sorry Nanamin! I am!” You were almost sobbing. It felt too good. His long and thick fingers were making you moan like a porn star. You even felt a little lightheaded. Whenever his fingers curled you involuntarily bucked more into his hand. “F-fuck!” You couldn’t keep your moans in anymore when he hit that small bundle of nerves. “Fucking take it and shut up. I don’t wanna hear you.” Those words shot straight to your core and made you even wetter.

You had been acting out all day. At first. He was trying to stay calm and composed, but after you embarrassed and undermined him for the last time in front of Satoru he had enough. He needed to teach you a lesson as soon as the two of you were alone. “You’re so fucking wet and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to punish you.” His fingers slowed and sped up again at the end of his sentence before he ripped his fingers out of your pussy at once. 

His fingers were wet with your arousal. It made you blush heavily seeing him put his two fingers to his mouth and lick them clean. “You taste so good. Fuck. I need you so bad I can’t take it anymore.” He finally lets go of your hair and pushes you back on the bed. “Turn around. I don’t wanna look at you right now.” He demands and you obey. He undoes his pants and watches as you turn around and he immediately gets behind you. He was so much taller than you. His big and masculine stature made you feel so small and helpless whenever he would punish you. 

Knowing he could completely dominate you whenever he wanted and make you a mess underneath him was such a turn-on. You had a thing for getting this kind of reaction from your boyfriend, and he knew that. His punishments would leave you sore and sometimes you wouldn’t even be able to walk for days. Especially when he would invite Satoru and Suguru over. The three men would have their fun with you until they thought you had learned your lesson. 

You’re brought back to reality when you feel Nanami’s hard cock poking at your slick entrance. He grabs you by your hair again and forces your head back before shoving his thick cock in at once. You can’t help but let out a high-pitched moan when you feel your walls stretch to accommodate your angry boyfriend’s cock. “God. You’re so fucking tight.” He bites his lip and takes a second to take in the feeling of your pussy gripping him like a vice. 

He doesn’t even wait for you to adjust before he starts pounding into your pussy. “Nanamin! It’s too big. I can’t. Fuck.” You cry out. You can’t even moan into the pillow to hide your moans. He makes a makeshift ponytail and pulls you back harder until his chest is pressed against your back. “Shut up, you can take it. This is what you wanted. You know better than to embarrass me in front of my friends don’t you?” He whispers in your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine and makes you clench involuntarily around his length that’s going in and out of you at a brutal pace. 

“Oh, the whore likes that? I can feel your slutty pussy clench. You love it when I’m mean to you. You love it when I treat you like a fucking slut. You can’t help it.” “Please.” That’s all you can manage to get out. “Please what? Come on. Use your words.” His thrusts slow down and it’s like torture. “Please Nanamin. Fuck me harder. Need more.” 

As soon as those words leave your lips he pushes you back down and lets go of your hair and one of his strong hands grip your waist while you arch your back. “You want it like this? Slut.” He says. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room and your eyes roll to the back of your head. His thrusts make your lower half glow with pleasure. 

You were too blinded by pleasure to hear someone knocking on the bedroom door. ‘Nanami? Y/N? Are you in there?” It’s Satoru. Fuck, what does he want? Satoru is met with no response. Just the sounds of sex. Nanami’s thrusts don’t slow down. If anything his thrusts get harder and rougher. You feel like you’re drowning in pleasure and it’s too much. Nanami keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars and he obviously doesn’t care if Satoru hears. “Nanamin, we have to stop. What if he hears? I-” “Let him hear. You deserve to feel embarrassed. I hope Satoru hears you moaning like a fucking bitch. It’s what a whore like you deserves.”

His hand reaches around you and he starts to play with your clit while keeping up with the brutal pace. Fuck. You didn’t care if Satoru heard you anymore. He didn’t matter right now. You just wanted to chase your own high that was so close. You can deal with Satoru later. Nanami thrusting into you from behind with all his might while playing with your clit was becoming too much. At this point, you know you won't last that long. 

“Fuck, I feel so fucking good. God, you make me feel so good.” You practically yell out. “Yeah?” God. “I wanna cum so bad. So close.” You start to bounce more on his cock while his thrusts start to get sloppy. You can tell he’s getting close too. “Keep bouncing on my cock like a good girl. You’re doing so well. I know you wanna cum so bad. Work for it, slut.” Nanami has stopped thrusting into you and is letting you do all the work and bounce on him, but keeps rubbing circles on your clit slowly. “Fuck, keep bouncing like that. I’m gonna cum in you. Fill you up.” That was the last thing you needed. The knot that was tightening in your core was finally going to burst. Nanami watches you bounce and stops rubbing slow circles on your clit and grabs your waist. Hard.

He moves you up and down so hard your tits bounce and you just can’t hold it back anymore. “‘M gonna squirt. I can’t!” As soon as Nanami hears that he just can’t keep it together anymore. The knot snaps and you squirt all over the sheets beneath you and Nanami releases his seed inside of you at the same time. He stands in place for a little bit before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your abused pussy. “Fuck.” He pants and watches you collapse on the bed. “You okay?” He asks before plopping on the bed next to you. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reply and turn on your side to look at your boyfriend. “That’s good, I’m glad.” He softly smiles and leans in to give you a kiss on the forehead and cuddle you. “I love you so much.” “I love you too.” You reply before you hear Satoru at the door. Again. “God. Are you guys done fucking yet?”

[joelscruff]

don't think we could help it (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is!!! the much anticipated sequel to "you know i don't mean it" aka the soft!dom joel fic that somehow hit 1k in like 3 days???? truly wild. i listened to what you guys had to say and decided to turn this into a little series/collection. the timeline won't necessarily always be linear but i'd really like to explore these two a bit more. i hope you enjoy! btw, i now have a tag list so if you'd like to be notified when i update this series/post fic in general, interact with that post! summary: joel has a new idea he'd like to share with you (and you're more than willing to try it out). rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink galore, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), fingering, lap sitting, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, clothed male and unclothed female, uhhh if i forgot something pls lmk word count: 4.1k | ao3

This is new. Beyond new, it's insane. He's got you laid completely bare on his lap, legs wide, the palms of his hands pressed flush against your inner thighs as he holds you open. The cold air is a relief against the heat, not only for your core but for your mind as you try to keep your thoughts clear despite them becoming more and more muddled the longer he holds you like this.

Since your outburst the last time you'd decided you wouldn't bring it up again, not until he brought it up himself. You'd decided you could deal with it; you didn't really need him to fuck you, it was just one of the many desires you'd have to push away and forget about. Clearly his boundaries went deeper than you'd thought, but he'd said he wanted you and that was enough. Whatever the reason for holding back, for not allowing himself to actually touch you, you could deal with not knowing.

But then tonight happened.

It's been one week since your last patrol with him, the patrol where he confirmed his desire for you, and you'd been expecting the usual routine as you situated yourself on the couch. He'd slowly approached you, expression unreadable.

"I wanna try something different," he'd said quietly.

You'd scrambled to sit up, eyes shining with interest as you perched yourself on the arm of the couch, "Yeah?"

He took one more step and then he was directly in front of you, standing tall and broad while you sat there feeling small and vulnerable, unsure what he was thinking. Slowly, carefully, he brought one of his hands up and traced your jawline with his fingertips, making you tremble. It was the first time he'd actually touched your face, the first time he'd allowed his skin to brush against yours apart from when his fingers had slid inside your mouth last time. It was heaven.

You'd closed your eyes involuntarily and leaned into his touch, practically purring at the feeling. You heard his breath hitch, the back of his fingers stroking your cheek as his thumb found a place at your mouth, tracing the shape of your lips. Without much thought you'd opened it, inviting him to slip his thumb inside. He'd exhaled deeply and you'd opened your eyes again to watch the cogs turn in his head, watch him decide what you deserved and what you didn't.

To your disappointment he didn't slide his thumb inside your mouth; instead, he pulled his hand completely away from you. You whined at the loss, shoulders falling as you peered up at him pathetically.

"Joel," you whispered, but your words ended there; you didn't know what to say, didn't know if any sort of protest would end whatever he'd decided would be different tonight altogether.

He just shook his head and stepped away from you, sitting on his end of the couch. He didn't put his feet up or lean back like usual, he sat on the edge of the third cushion and began to palm himself through his jeans. You watched with aroused interest, biting your lip as you gazed at the long shape of his cock, hard and firm.

You still weren't sure what he was thinking but you stayed frozen where you were, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"I was thinking," he finally broke the silence, not looking at you as he thumbed the wet head through the denim, a small dark spot appearing in the fabric, "That you could sit in my lap tonight."

The rules are as follows:

touch yourself the way he tells you to.

stop touching yourself when he tells you to stop.

come only when he tells you that you can.

he will not be touching you.

You shiver in his lap now, looking at yourself leaking down your legs and soaking his jeans. God, you'd had no idea you were this touch starved; just the feeling of him beneath you, his fingers splayed firmly against your thighs, you think you could come without even touching yourself. But those aren't the rules.

"One finger," he breathes, tickling the side of your neck where he's resting his head, watching, "Nice and deep, lemme see."

You obey, bringing your shaky hand to your centre and pushing your middle finger inside to the hilt, exhaling deeply and trying your hardest to avoid even brushing against your clit for fear you might start to come already.

He hums in approval, breath hot against your skin, "Now pull it out," he murmurs, "Real slow, show me."

You slowly remove your finger, biting down on your lip. It comes out drenched and shiny, slick with your wetness.

"And back in," his voice is like honey, slow and sweet. You push your finger back inside, "And out again, just like that. Good girl."

You moan at your pet name; it's the first time he's used it tonight and you've been waiting to hear him say it. It's hard to believe how easy it is for some simple words to make you completely submit to him, hard to believe how badly you want to be good for him, to do exactly what he tells you. Earlier today you'd given him shit for forgetting to put the safety on your gun when he'd handed it to you. That version of yourself doesn't exist here.

"In and out," he whispers, sending waves of tingles up and down your spine, "Count to ten for me."

"One," you begin to count your slow thrusts, voice shaky and breathless, "T-two."

He flexes his hands on your thighs, curling his fingers into the flesh. For someone who's never actually touched you before up until this point, he's sure getting his fill now; you'll have marks tomorrow, impressions of hand prints where he held you open. The thought makes you throb.

"Nine," you whimper, fucking yourself once more, "Ten."

"Good girl," he praises again, nosing your shoulder gently.

The room feels stuffy despite being so large and open, and your whole body feels like it's on fire. You can feel the tension building in your lower belly; how the fuck are you so close already? You've never been able to get off this easily and now you feel like you could break at any second, directly contradicting one of the rules.

"Can I take my shirt off?" you ask quietly, hoping you're not crossing a line, "I'm really warm."

He chuckles, "You just wanna be naked on my lap."

"...Maybe."

"Add your second finger and I'll think about it," he murmurs against your neck, "Show me you can be good."

You swallow, nodding and slowly slipping another finger inside.

"You're so wet," he says, a genuinely awestruck air in his voice, "All this from just sittin' in my lap?"

They're not just words, he means them. He's questioning himself, questioning whether he's really capable of making you fall apart like this. And he is; you can't believe he doesn't see what you see, doesn't see how sexy and alluring he is, how he doesn't even have to touch you to give you an orgasm.

"Yes," you moan softly, leaning your head back and feeling his nose against your throat, "Feels so good, Joel, you have no idea," you plunge your fingers in and out, closing your eyes and shivering at the way his cock throbs beneath you, "I love feeling you."

"I know you do," he whispers, "Been thinkin' about it all week, wanted to give you somethin' more, you deserve it."

"I do?" the thought makes you smile; it pleases you that he thinks you deserve this, that he thought about it and wanted to do it for you.

God, you really are fucked.

"You do," his fingers stroke your inner thighs gently, tickling your skin, the tips of his thumbs brushing lightly against your outer lips. "Plus, I wanted to see this pretty little pussy a bit closer," his breath is so hot and wet against your skin, making your whole body shake as you continue to fuck yourself, "And now you can feel my cock, can't you? Just like you wanted, but without breakin' the rules."

You make the rules, you want to say, squeezing your eyes shut tighter, you can change them. You could fuck me right now if you wanted to. But you don't say anything, knowing deep down that asking for it again won't get you anywhere. This is a part of it now, a new factor in this thing between the two of you, and you know he'll hold it over you to keep the control on his side. You have to admit, he knows what he's doing.

"Third finger, pretty girl," he whispers and you do as you're told, adding your third and clenching tightly around all three digits, "Look at that, so full for me."

His cock throbs again, heavy and thick against your ass, and you keen at the fact that this is just as hot for him as it is for you. He's not doing this for your benefit, he genuinely enjoys it. He wants you.

"Thumb on your clit," he breathes, and your eyes open again, wide and unsure.

"I'll come," you whimper, feeling slightly ashamed at your admission, "If I touch my clit I already know I'm gonna come."

He smiles against your skin, "Really? From just a little touch?"

"Y-yes."

"So if I..." he trails off and suddenly removes his right hand from your thigh, moving it closer to where you're open and full.

"Oh my God," you breathe, voice barely a squeak, "Yes, yes, please touch it, please."

"Where? Where do you need me to touch?"

"Joel," you groan, shutting your eyes again and trembling in his lap.

"Use your words, pretty girl, tell me where you need me to touch you."

"My clit," you practically hiss, "Touch my clit, please."

You've stopped moving your fingers entirely, laying still inside of you, keeping you wide. He doesn't admonish you, just twirls his index finger teasingly near your pussy and smiles against your neck.

"But that's against the rules," he murmurs.

"Fuck the rules," you practically growl.

You regret it instantly, watching as his hand returns to your thigh and you hear him laugh lightly in your ear. Scowling, you let out a long groan of contempt and pull your fingers out, leaning back against his chest pitifully. The buttons on his shirt dig into your flesh, reminding you that he's still fully clothed. It somehow makes you wetter.

"For someone who claims to be my good girl, you're not being very good tonight, are you?"

"I am," you pout, "I told you, I'm just really oveheated."

"Poor baby," he whispers, and you watch his hands lift from your thighs to tug at the hem of your shirt, "Let's take this off, then. Arms up."

You oblige, lifting up your arms and allowing him to pull your shirt over your head. He freezes for a moment, the material bunching in his hand as he makes a fist.

"You didn't wear a bra?" it's barely audible and you smirk.

"No, I don't wear one when I'm on patrol with you."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"Christ," he tosses the shirt to the floor and places his hands back on your inner thighs, pulling your legs apart more than they already are and pressing the thick length of his cock deeper against you. "You know, good girls don't do shit like that."

"Then maybe you need to punish me," you challenge, half joking but also not, wondering if maybe he'll finally give you what you want.

"Maybe I do," he mutters, "Fingers. Back in. Now."

You obey, pushing your fingers back inside and waiting for his next order, the tension of your orgasm still building in your belly. What is he gonna do? For a moment you're fearful that he'll stop touching you, leave you there to get yourself off without a second glance. You start to fuck yourself again, biting down on your lip and doing everything you can not to stimulate your clit.

His hands move again and you gasp in shock as he brings them to your bare breasts, cupping them in his palms. You lean back further into his touch, basking in the way his strong and wide torso envelops yours, holds you firm as you shove your fingers in and out.

"Well, aren't these pretty?" he croons in your ear, thumbing your nipples lightly, "Knew they would be."

The fact that he's thought about what your breasts look like makes your skin flush even warmer as you squirm in his lap, feeling small and breakable in his embrace. He rotates your nipples with his fingers, humming softly to himself in satisfaction. You continue to fuck yourself as you await your potential punishment...whatever it might be.

"You wanna come, don't you, baby?" he asks you softly, and you nod frantically, pathetically, "But do you think you deserve to come?"

You hesitate, brow furrowing, "P-probably not."

He laughs again, genuine and warm, "At least you're honest."

He lets go of your breasts and palms your stomach, the width of his hands giving you butterflies. He gently traces your belly button, your pubic bone, watching goosebumps rise on your flesh as he trails his fingertips along your skin.

"So pretty," he murmurs, hand dipping to your mound, the tips of his fingers only inches away from your clit, "Jesus, you're swollen."

You bite down on your lip, trying not to make any embarrassingly pathetic sounds; you can practically feel his eyes on your cunt and it makes you want to scream.

"Take your fingers out," he whispers, and you obey, hand shaking.

"You're gonna punish me, aren't you?" you finally whisper.

You feel him shake his head, "Not tonight, pretty girl," he inhales deeply, nosing your hair and gently stroking the skin just above your pussy with his thumb. "I think it's time I finally broke a rule."

Your heart races at his words, eyes widening. You're about to ask him what he means when he suddenly takes both your hands in his and brings them to your thighs, placing them gently down on your warm flesh. He keeps his left hand over yours, enveloping it as his right hand moves downward. Your eyes widen even more, watching as his big hand stills right in front of where you're wet and aching.

"You say it'll just take one touch, did you mean that?" he asks quietly.

"Y-yeah," you whimper, and you're not lying.

You watch with bated breath as he extends his fingers and gently prods your clit with the pad of his index. Just as you knew you would, you tense in his arms and let out a ridiculously loud moan, clenching around nothing as you start to come, body twitching wildly atop his lap. You feel his gaze on your face, watching as the smallest possible touch from him sends you into an absolute frenzy.

"Oh fuck," you cry, tilting your head back against his shoulder, feeling his beard scratch roughly against your cheek, "Joel, Joel, Joel," you repeat his name over and over until it's done, leaving you laying there motionless in his lap, limbs heavy and loose, his finger still sitting tenderly on your clit without movement. You feel your eyes close, head still firm on his shoulder as you breathe deeply in and out.

You lay there in his lap, legs still wide as your belly rises and falls from exertion. His finger rubs your clit once, just once, a soothing gesture that makes your hips buck lightly. He pulls it back and gently trails it to your entrance, hesitating for only a moment before he slowly slips it inside of you. You barely register it, still completely undone from your orgasm, body still processing the aftershocks. He doesn't say anything, just pushes his finger further inside until it's fully sheathed in your heat.

"You feel that?" he finally whispers to you, and you nod languidly, humming in affirmation. He keeps his finger inside of you, thick and long, filling you up, "Feel good?"

You hum again, still catching your breath. You swear you feel him smile against your cheek. Slowly, he pushes a second finger inside, and your lips part at the stretch, eyes opening only slightly as both of his fingers still inside you.

"And that? You feel that?"

"Yes," you whisper, slowly bringing yourself to move forward again, looking down to see where you're connected. You watch as he carefully pushes a third finger alongside the other two, your opening burning in the best possible way at the intrusion. His fingers are so thick, so wide, it's almost like you've got five of your own somehow crammed in there. You clench around him, your hand coming up to hold his wrist, small and fragile compared to his.

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" he murmurs when all three fingers are completely enveloped, his beard brushing your cheek again.

"N-no, feels good," you reply immediately, squeezing his wrist lightly, "Feels full."

"I just want to see how much you can take," he says softly, "I need to know your limits."

"I don't have limits with you," you whisper like it's a secret, and you mean it. He could do anything, say anything, and you wouldn't care. You should probably be ashamed of it, but you're not.

"You should," he replies, voice strained, "You know I have my own limits with you." He carefully adjusts you in his lap, turning you slightly to face him, "Look at me," he murmurs.

You turn around, finally seeing his face for the first time since you'd seated yourself in his lap. He's looking at you carefully, brow furrowed, gauging your expression like he's worried you're lying to him. He must be content with whatever he sees there, because you notice the ghost of a smile tug at his lips.

He slowly pulls his fingers from your core and brings them to your lips. "Suck," he orders softly.

You do as you're told, leaning forward and taking all three fingers in your mouth without hesitation, lapping yourself up as he watches. When you've gotten everything, he removes each finger one by one, then thumbs the corner of your mouth.

"Good girl," he breathes, and you smile in response, enjoying his praise. He smiles back and you feel him tap your thigh gently, "Get up for me now, okay?"

"'Kay," you whisper, shakily moving from his lap and bringing yourself to stand up. You turn around then, standing over him completely bare while he leans back on the couch, shuffling his legs open. You look at his crotch, see the outline of his cock, still hard and thick. Your cheeks turn bright red when you see the large wet stain you've left on his jeans.

He follows your gaze, smirking, "Yeah, you made quite the mess, didn't you?"

"Sorry," you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"Don't be sorry, pretty girl," he reaches for his zipper and tugs it down, pulling his cock out of the confines of his underwear and slipping it through the denim. You swallow, remembering the feeling of his come on your tongue, the hot salty taste in the back of your throat as you'd swallowed all he had to give you.

"Where do you want me?" you ask quietly, hoping against reason that he'll ask you to get on your knees.

He doesn't, as you'd expected, "Just stand right there," he says, stroking himself firmly and quickly, "Stay still, just like that."

You obey, staying very still and watching him jack himself off, his eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily. After only a moment, he shuffles himself forward and points the head of his cock upward, toward your belly. With one final stroke he grunts, deep and masculine, and you watch as his come paints your bare stomach, thick, white, and warm. You shiver, crossing your legs as your cunt begins to throb again, just like last time.

He finishes and releases himself, falling back on the couch and breathing heavily. He looks up at you from under his lashes, completely wrecked.

"Did I do good?" you ask softly, and you feel yourself grin as he shuts his eyes and tosses his head back with a groan.

"Yes, beyond good," he replies, looking back up at you and wincing slightly, "You're gonna kill me."

You giggle proudly and reach down to drag your fingers through his spend on your stomach, reveling in his eyes on you as you bring it to your mouth and push it against your tongue, swallowing it greedily. He groans shakily, carefully stuffing his dick back into his jeans and zipping himself back up. You scoop another finger of his come into your mouth and he stares at you, eyes dark.

"Might as well come directly in your mouth next time," he mutters, and you nod immediately.

"Yes, please."

His expression changes then, no longer playful or aroused. He stands up and walks over to your discarded clothes, picking them up and handing them to you without saying anything. You take them from him with a frown, watching as he picks up his gun from the chair near the fireplace and slips it back inside its holster.

"Are you mad?" you ask softly, unsure if you've said or done something something to upset him.

"No, I'm not mad," he replies, but the roughness of his voice betrays him, "Get dressed, okay? We've still got a few hours left."

You wordlessly slip back into your underwear and jeans, wiping the rest of his come off your stomach with the back of your hand before you pull your t-shirt back on. You look over to see him shrugging his coat on, facing away from you.

"Did I do something?" you ask, and you hate how weak you sound, how shaky your voice is. In any other circumstance you wouldn't hesitate to challenge him, but somehow after being so exposed to him only moments ago, so open and vulnerable, it's difficult to bring the real you back.

"No, you didn't do anything," he says gruffly, "It's me, I already told you we shouldn't be doing this. Should've ended it last week."

His words hurt, but somehow they don't cut you like he probably means them to. You walk toward him, still frowning, "What's the problem? I thought you liked it."

He doesn't say anything and you reach out to touch his shoulder, making him flinch and turn around to look at you again. Your eyes widen when you see that his are suddenly shiny with tears. Your lips part in surprise and you reach for his arm again, gripping his bicep tightly.

"Joel, what's wrong?" you whisper, "You're crying."

"Leave it," he says quickly, yanking himself from your touch, "I told you, we shouldn't be doing this. We can't do it anymore, this was the last time."

"Where is this coming from?" you're so confused, feeling helpless as he backs away from you, "Five minutes ago you were calling me your good girl and now-"

"You gotta stop letting me call you that," he grimaces, "I need to get ahold of myself, I can't keep letting this happen."

"Letting this happen?" you repeat, feeling anger begin to bubble in your throat as the real you finally begins to surface, "You're the one who asked me to sit in your lap, Joel. You're the one who started this whole thing to begin with."

"And I never shoulda been so weak," he spits, shaking his head, "You're a fucking kid, this is messed up."

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth agape, "I'm a grown ass woman, Joel. You know that better than anyone."

"I'm almost thirty years older than you, I should know better."

"Why are you being like this?" your anger betrays you as you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, "Why are you being so mean? I didn't do anything wrong."

"Exactly, you didn't. It's me," he repeats, turning away from you again, "I'm gonna tell Tommy not to assign us together anymore, this is over."

"No it's not," you stomp forward and try to grab him again but he's already halfway out the front door of the ski lodge.

"Stay inside," he says firmly, still looking away from you, "Leave me alone." The door slams and you stand there in shock, staring after him through the glass as he walks away from you.

What the fuck.

if you have any requests/ideas you'd like to share for this series or any fic in general, feel free to send me a message! i also have a kofi if you'd like to tip me (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).

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@detectivedaughter @townmoondaltwistle @str84pedro @sammiesap-blog @heartfairy @cutesyscreenname @tinycranberri @daisysliv @morks-watermelon @dakota-00 @jettia @johnwatsn

[puppy-steve]

mamma mia (spit your love on me)

E | 1.8k words | ao3

(aka puppy steve)

tags: sub top steve, dom bottom eddie, trans masc eddie, puppy play, breeding kink, mommy kink

Eddie loves it when his puppy gets on his knees for him.

Steve sits so patiently with his ass wagging, his hole stretched open with a fluffy tail plug. His tongue lolling out in pants like an actual dog as he whines and shifts his weight from hand to hand on the floor in front of him. His cock sits hard and untouched between his legs, pre-cum pulsing from the tip and dripping onto the rug.

He keens high in his throat when Eddie spreads the swollen lips of his cunt, showing off his slick hole.

"You want this, puppy?" Eddie asks, fingertips dancing over the opening and dipping briefly inside, enough to make Steve squirm in place and huff out a desperate whine.

Eddie lets out a moan as he slides two fingers inside himself easily, tapering off into a dark chuckle when he sees Steve zero in on the movement.

"Yeah, you do," he coos with a filthy smirk, a little mean and a little degrading, but he knows his puppy likes it. "Haven't even gotten a taste yet and you're already fucking pussy drunk, panting like a desperate mutt."

Eddie brings both feet up on the couch, splaying his legs wide open so Steve can get a good look at his hole stretched around his fingers, moaning when he brushes against his g-spot. He adds a third finger and curls them deep, head tipping back against the couch as his moans get louder and higher.

An impatient whine in front of him makes him open his eyes. Steve's intense gaze is laser focused on Eddie's pulsing cunt as he openly pants, but that's not what catches Eddie's attention. His eyes trail down between his legs to where his pup is shallowly humping the air, moving in time with Eddie's fingers.

Eddie curses quietly and watches Steve's cock swing, hard and thick and leaking, like he can't wait to push it inside Eddie's cunt. Eddie brings his other hand up to stroke his fingers over his own hard dick—he's only sporting an inch and a half compared to Steve's five, but it's enough to play with when fully erect.

"Fuck," Eddie whines as heat curls in his belly, throbbing so deep in his pussy he can feel it in his lower back.

Steve keeps time, digging his nails into the carpet under him to keep himself from rushing forward and claiming what's his. His hips dip low, grinding against nothing.

"Such a good puppy, staying in your place like I told you." Eddie pulls his fingers out and spreads his hole open, giving it a couple slaps and grinning as Steve's nostrils flare. "You wanna fuck me, pup? Huh? Wanna be a good boy and breed Mommy's pussy?"

Steve's cock gives a dangerous lurch, and for a split second, Eddie's worried he'll come before he's told, but he only leaks more and gives an enthusiastic nod, his hair flopping into his eyes.

Eddie gives a soft coo and finally beckons him forward with slick covered fingers. “Sweet boy,” he praises, rubbing his juices all over Steve’s lips, letting him suck and lick at them messily. “Been so patient, haven’t you, baby?”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut and he leans into the clean hand scratching his scalp.

“Think you deserve a reward, first, then I’ll let you fuck me. Is that alright, sweetheart?”

Steve looks up at him with a questioning tilt of his head. Eddie dips his fingers inside of himself again, gathering up slick and coating his dick in it.

He guides Steve’s head closer to his cunt, shuddering when he can feel his warm breath against his wetness. “Go ahead and lick me, baby,” he says. “Show Mommy what that pretty mouth can do.”

He’s hesitant at first, tongue flicking out and just barely licking over him, making sure that this isn’t a trick and he really is allowed. With one more glance up at Eddie and another nod, Steve buries his tongue deep between Eddie’s lips.

Eddie throws his head back with a moan and buries both hands in Steve’s hair. He doesn’t lap at him impatiently—he takes his time and works Eddie’s hole open, mixing spit and slick and groaning at the taste as he licks inside of him.

“Good boy, puppy,” Eddie praises with a breathy whine, grinding his hips against Steve’s mouth without shame. “Mommy’s good boy, so perfect for me.”

Steve licks more enthusiastically at the praise and moves up to lap at the underside of Eddie’s cock. He flicks it and rolls it on his tongue, feeling braver with every stroke and suck and desperate cry that leaves Eddie’s lips.

The coil in Eddie’s belly threatens to snap and he becomes blind with pleasure, humping Steve’s face and spreading his juices all over his chin. He’s gasping out curses and writhing, making sounds that would have people mistaking him for the puppy in their dynamic. But he’s so close, he just needs Steve to keep his tongue right there, gonna make me come so hard, puppy, fuck–

One hard suck to his dick and the slide of a finger inside him to rub at his g-spot has Eddie coming with a shout and seeing stars.

He crunches forward at the waist, almost doubling over Steve’s head, digging his nails into Steve’s scalp. He’ll apologize for it later when he washes his hair in the bath, but right now, his entire lower half is jerking, Steve’s lips still attached to his pussy as he rides the aftershocks.

When the stimulation becomes too much, Eddie hauls Steve up by his hair and captures his lips in a filthy kiss, sucking on his tongue and licking behind his teeth to swallow the taste of himself.

Steve grips the couch cushions on either side of Eddie’s hips, whimpering into the kiss and chasing every flick of Eddie’s tongue. A hand reaches between them and grips his aching cock tight at the base. It’s the first touch he’s had in over an hour and he forces himself to keep his hips still and not fuck his hips forward.

Eddie swallows each and every one of his muffled trills and cries. “You’re such a good boy,” he says, his tone syrup sweet as he starts stroking him from root to tip. He can feel it pulse in his hand, the purple head weeping all over his fingers. “Waited so long for this, but don’t worry, puppy, you’ll get what you want soon.”

Steve’s mouth is open. Drool drips from his tongue and his eyes are glassy and unfocused as he lets out keening whines.

“Pretty pup,” Eddie brushes Steve’s hair back with his free hand, the other speeding up on his cock. “Gonna let you have my pussy real soon, I promise.”

His puppy does an excited shuffle and Eddie gives a soft laugh. “Yeah? That what you want?” He takes Steve’s chin and shakes it a little. “Wanna knot Mommy’s pussy full of your cum until it takes?”

Steve’s reply is just a muffled plea of noises. It’s the closest he can get to speaking when they’re playing, as he isn’t allowed to use words.

Eddie hums and lets go of Steve’s cock to situate himself so he’s laying down on the couch. “Come here, puppy.” He pats the cushion and Steve climbs up between his legs, draping himself over Eddie’s body and tucking his face in the crook of his neck.

Eddie spurs him on with an encouraging moan as he starts humping his cock against his wet slit. “Nice and slow, baby, there you go. Get your dick all wet for me.” He tilts his head back as Steve kisses up and down his throat, shivering at the little bites he leaves.

He spreads his legs further when he feels the head of his cock nudge against his hole, asking for permission. Eddie reaches down and guides it in, letting out a hiss as Steve pushes it the rest of the way.

Steve trembles in his arms, huffing out little whimpers against his neck and gripping his waist tight as Eddie’s sensitive pussy flutters around him. Eddie gently shushes him and pets his hair, peppering soft kisses over the side of his face.

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his other hand up and down Steve’s spine. “Love the way your cock fills me up.” He bears his hips down and feels the blood rush to his ears as his puppy gives an aborted thrust. He crosses his legs around the small of Steve’s back and presses him deeper with a whimper of his own, signaling for Steve to move.

Fortunately, through the thick fog filling his brain, Steve catches on and pulls out slowly until just the tip is barely touching him, then he shoves back in with a speed that makes Eddie clutch at Steve’s back and shout out.

The pace is brutal, but it always is when they play and Eddie’s been extra mean. Edging his puppy for well over an hour before he finally lets him bully his way into his wet cunt. Letting him use him like a toy for his own pleasure.

Skin slapping against skin and Steve’s grunts mixing with Eddie’s moans and cries—yesyesyes, like that, puppy, don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—until Steve is taking Eddie’s hands and pinning them above his head, making Eddie arch so pretty underneath him, making his cock slide deeper and hit his g-spot with every thrust.

Until Eddie is shaking and choking out a sob as he comes a second time, his legs tightening around Steve’s waist so he can grind his hips down and work his pussy on the thick cock inside him, milking his puppy closer and closer toward his own orgasm.

“Keep going, puppy,” Eddie pants in his ear, licking the bead of sweat dripping down Steve’s temple. “Fuck me ‘til you come, wanna feel it all the way up in my throat–”

The cry that Steve makes is hoarse. His thrusts become more erratic the more that Eddie speaks until he’s biting down on his shoulder. Eddie can feel the pulse of his cock inside of him followed by his warm cum coating his walls and filling him deep.

They both cling to each other as they come down, neither caring that they’re both sweaty and gross and sticky. Eddie holds Steve close and kisses him and whispers praise into his ear of how good he made him feel and how much he loves him, and Steve just snuggles closer.

Afterwards, when he’s completely soft, he’ll pull out and drop to his knees once more to watch as Eddie spreads his legs, holding his knees up to his chest as he pushes Steve’s cum out of his pussy. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.”

special taglist: @stevesjockstrap @hammity-hammer @corrodedbisexual @corrodedcoughin @spectrum-spectre

@matchingbatbites @steves-strapcollection @tboygareth @theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle

@stobinesque @starrystevie @steddieas-shegoes @starryeyedjanai @shares-a-vest

@sidekick-hero @emchant3d

[thesakuragarnet]

O*B*S*E*S*S*E*D

Summary: Dabi is beyond obsessed. He’s obsessed with the way that Hawks cries out when they’re fucking. He’s obsessed with the way Hawks looks pinned beneath him, writhing and clinging for dear life to the bed, breath hot and heavy in the air. Dabi is obsessed with his new toy and everything he has to offer…at least…that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Hawks is suffocating. He's drowning in ideals that he's been conditioned to ignore and cast aside. Now, he finds that instead of drowning in the blood of his enemies, he's drunk off love and lust...underneath one of Japan's most wanted.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS BENEATH THE KEEP READING SECTION

Non-Spicy Tags: DabiHawks, obsessive/possessive Dabi, heavy smut, swearing, making out, intimacy

Word Count: 3,087 words

AO3 link

Spicy Tags: T0p d0m Dabi, sub b0ttom Hawks, a n a l sex, bl0wjobs, sloppy/sleepy s3x and kisses, morning s3x, aftercare, explicit s3xual content

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi is beyond obsessed. He’s obsessed with the way that Hawks cries out when they’re fucking. He’s obsessed with the way Hawks looks pinned beneath him, writhing and clinging for dear life to the bed, breath hot and heavy in the air. Dabi is obsessed with his new toy and everything he has to offer…at least…that’s what he keeps telling himself. It's getting harder and harder for him to swallow his emotions. His mask slips around Hawks; he catches himself letting Touya slip through the cracks, staring at the hero with wide, shining eyes full of hope and talking until his throat hurts. It's...easier with Hawks. Dabi doesn't understand it. His guard should be up. His walls should be impenetrable. Still, from their very first kiss, Dabi's felt like his soul has been snatched up. He can only maintain his uncaring facade for so long until they're alone, and then, he finds himself whispering sweet nothings in Hawks' ears. He finds himself wanting Hawks. 

At the same time, Hawks is suffocating. He's drowning in ideals that he's been conditioned to ignore and cast aside. Now, he finds that instead of drowning in the blood of his enemies, he's drunk off love and lust...underneath one of Japan's most wanted. He didn't expect Dabi to be so intentional and intimate. Inviting Dabi into his bed became commonplace after their first time, when Dabi carefully and consensually coaxed him to climax, checking in with him more times than should've been necessary. Dabi was a villain. He shouldn't have cared how Hawks felt about their little fling...if that's all it was. Hawks was used to being used...and sex with Dabi should've been no different. Except, it was. It was so abhorrently different that it flipped Hawks' brain inside out. Sex with Dabi felt safe, and it was extremely concerning and a little insane to even consider "Dabi" and "safe" in the same breath. But, it was comforting. Hawks craved the villain's sweet embrace with such a violent thirst that it felt unbearable. Every fleeting touch made his wings stiffen and his heart flutter. 

-

Hawks was just finishing up his patrol shift when his phone buzzed in his pocket. In truth, he thought it was the HPSC leader bugging him for more intel on the League; he certainly was caught off guard by the "you up?" text from Dabi followed by the address of a love hotel. Hawks snorts before he dials the burner phone he's memorized by heart. 

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Only supposed to call for emergencies, birdie," Dabi hums mockingly into the phone as he lounges on the king-sized hotel bed. 

"You're the one who sent me you up," Hawks chides, and Dabi rolls his eyes, resting a scarred arm behind his head as he kicks off his leather boots. 

"I've got an update for you. Wanna discuss it in person," He admits, keeping his descriptions minimal. Dabi's whole identity has been mystique, a charming similarity that he finds in Hawks. 

"Sure you're not just horny?" Hawks teases, a glimmer of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

There's a brief silence and a scoff, and, when Dabi speaks again, there's a distinct edge to his voice:

"Are you coming or not?"

'Did he take offense to that?' Hawks wonders, eyebrows raising at the prospect of the villain hinting at mutual feelings. Neither of them voiced that they cared for one another...not explicitly. Sure, the longing touches following hookups were a little more than casual, and the gentle words they whispered to one another were a little more than simple seductions. Hawks runs over his schedule for the following day in his head before deciding he can afford a night with Dabi.

"Be there in ten."

...

...

Hawks turns the hotel room key over and over between his fingers as he struts down the hallway, thoughts spiraling in his brain.

What intel could Dabi have gathered? Had he figured out that he was a lying bastard? Had the villains made even more advances? Was he just looking for a quickie?

Finally, he finds the right hotel room, and he straightens up his posture, looking around to make sure there's no civilians before he puts the key in the lock. Hawks opens the door to find Dabi sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, filing his nails. Dabi's not ripped by any means, but it doesn't mean he's not nice to look at shirtless. Hawks quickly slips in, closing the door behind him, and the motion makes Dabi look up with a smug smirk plastered on his face. 

"There's the pretty bird," Dabi murmurs, clicking his tongue, "You're late."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Ten minutes and thirty seconds."

"Had to find the right room," Hawks sniffs, trying to act like he doesn't care. Besides, Dabi's just being annoying on purpose. He tends to do that. Dabi wipes his hands on his jeans, brushing away the fine dust before tossing the file toward his folded jacket in the corner. He takes a good look at Hawks, eyes analyzing every inch of the Pro Hero. Hawks tries not to squirm beneath his gaze. 

"You look tired," Dabi says flatly, though it's unable to read whether his tone is out of pity or mockery. 

"Just got off shift," Hawks yawns, eyes suddenly feeling particularly heavy. "So. What's the update?"

"All business, ain't ya, Hawks?" Dabi snorts, lip curling the tiniest bit, but Hawks doesn't notice...either that or he doesn't care. "The update...I think you're ready to come with me to the Paranormal Liberation Front hideout."

Hawks' eyes light up. He's that much closer to getting intel on Shigaraki's whereabouts. "Really?"

"Don't act so surprised, hero. I don't just let anyone sleep with me," Dabi mutters under his breath, accidentally letting the last sentence leave his lips rather than letting it stay in his brain. His words stick with Hawks for a few moments before the Hero Commission's mission invades the hero's mind. Hawks is going to make it possible. A world where heroes have too much time on their hands. A safe world...far different than the world he grew up in. 

"When are we going?" Hawks blurts, anticipation boiling in his veins. His eagerness calls Dabi's walls up, setting off alarm bells that he wishes would shut the fuck up. 

"Tomorrow. I got in a bit of a spat with my co-lieutenant today. Decided I'd rather spend a night with you out here rather than in that swanky mansion. No spy cameras here," Dabi sighs, leaning back and stretching. 

"Spy cameras?" Hawks cocks his head. 

"Don't worry about it," Dabi shakes his head, realizing he's already said too much. Hawks blinks before noticing just how heavy his body feels. He'd spent all day catching low-level criminals and stopping villain attacks. He's in desperate need of a shower...and probably Dabi. He sees the glint in his lover's ocean-blue eyes and gulps. 

'Most definitely Dabi,' He thinks to himself. 

"Hey. I'm gonna go hop in the shower," Hawks stammers, eager to get into bed with the villain as soon as possible...eager to feel those sweet caresses that almost make him forget why he's sleeping with Dabi in the first place. Dabi's eyes become half-lidded, a devilish grin forming on his scar-laden mug as he watches Hawks walk into the connected bathroom and shut the door behind him. 

...

Steam pours out of the bathroom when Hawks opens the door, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, water droplets clinging to his muscular frame, highlighting the curves and ridges that Dabi loves to trace with his tongue. Dabi's already stripped down to his underwear, still sitting on the edge of the bed, taking in the sight before him. The Pro approaches, letting the towel drop before straddling Dabi's lap, forcing a breathy gasp from the villain's throat as their erections grind against one another. 

"Fuck," Dabi huffs, hands caressing Hawks' sides, wrapping around his back to scratch the space between his wings as Hawks drapes his own arms around Dabi's neck. Soft whimpers rumble in Hawks' throat as he rocks his hips, his voice thick with desire. 

"Baby, I think you're too tired to get railed," Dabi chuckles, once again adopting that taunting tone despite his obvious arousal. Hawks borderline whines; he needs to blow off some steam after his shift. He needs Dabi to fuck him senseless...but he's right. He's too tired. 

"Shut up," Hawks retorts with a particularly rough thrust that sends sparks up Dabi's spine, making his head feel fuzzy and his dick uncomfortably hard. He reaches up, cupping the hero's face before letting his eyelids flutter closed and connecting their lips in a tender kiss. Hawks hums into the gesture, eyes rolling back into his head as his senses go into overdrive. Kissing Dabi is intoxicating. The way his mismatched lips fit perfectly between Hawks'. The way Dabi's stitched tongue traces every inch of his mouth is simultaneously overwhelming yet delicate; it drives Hawks wild. 

Hawks kisses Dabi back passionately, pulling him closer as one kiss becomes one thousand. The villain's hands find their way to his lover's shoulders, and he promptly uses his body weight and momentum to send them hurtling onto the bed; Hawks is pinned beneath him, their lips never once part. Hawks groans Dabi's name into his mouth, making the villain shudder, tongues intertwining. Dabi breaks free from the kiss with a raspy sigh, pupils blown out as he sinks his teeth into the side of Hawks' neck. The hero moans, head in the clouds as he feels Dabi's fangs softly sinking into his flesh, just hard enough to leave a mark. Dabi pulls away, bringing his lips to Hawks' ear as he whispers:

"You wanna feel good, birdie?" 

Hawks chews his bottom lip, nodding vigorously...embarrassingly vigorously. It makes Dabi have to swallow a chuckle. 

"You remember the safe word?" Dabi asks, pressing kisses beneath Hawks' earlobe as the hero hums a "yes". 

"Relax for me," The villain sighs as he begins kissing all the way down Hawks' body. Hawks watches Dabi's head slowly move down, lips grazing the space between his pecs and trailing to his six-pack. He can't help the noise that bursts from his mouth when his lover starts kissing from the bottom of his shaft all the way up to his tip. The hero shudders, wings flaring out behind him on the bed and flexing as Dabi teasingly licks up and down his cock, flashing that impressively long tongue of his. Dabi's tongue is warm and feels utterly heavenly against his skin, and the villain adores the sounds he's forcing out of Hawks. The hums and whines kiss his scarred ears and make lust boil in his gut. Carefully, Dabi sucks Hawks' tip into his mouth, tongue swirling around the soft flesh and making the hero's toes curl. 

"Shit, Dabs," Hawks groans, trying so hard not to buck his hips and force Dabi to deepthroat him all at once. In the handful of times that they've hooked up, Dabi's managed to memorize all of Hawks' weak points...at least when it comes to sex. 

"You taste so good," Dabi rasps, pulling back before taking Hawks all the way into his throat. Dabi groans at the taste of Hawks' pre-come coating his tongue, hands braced against Hawks' muscular thighs, fingernails ever so slightly digging into his skin as he sucks him off. "So fucking good."

Hawks' pleasure-filled sighs are music to Dabi's ears, and his eyes roll back into his head as Dabi expertly presses his tongue against his shaft. Hawks doesn't know when Dabi lubed up his fingers, but the moment he feels cold pressing against his hole, it makes him tense up. 

"Relax," Dabi mutters with his mouth full of cock as he rubs the ring of muscle. Hawks sighs, raising his arms to cover his eyes as his cheeks heat up, and he focuses on the sensations. He focuses on Dabi's tongue, on Dabi's fingers, on Dabi. A flighty curse leaves Hawks' lips, voice breaking as Dabi delicately presses a finger inside, gently curling it as he takes Hawks further into his mouth. 

"Gonna come," Hawks trills, sweat beading on his brow as Dabi starts scissoring him open, fingers gently massaging his insides. Dabi takes him all the way once again, and Hawks sees stars. The heat of the villain's mouth, the way he's unconsciously rutting against Dabi's fingers, fucking himself deeper to Dabi's delight, it's all too much for the Pro Hero.

Hawks' orgasm wrecks his whole body, shivers of pleasure rolling through his bones as he spurts ropes of cum down Dabi's throat. The villain drinks it eagerly, almost enthusiastically, sucking through the orgasm and flexing his fingers against Hawks' prostate. When Hawks is out of breath and whimpering pathetically, Dabi pulls his slick lips off of his cock with a resounding pop. He sighs, lying down on the bed next to Hawks before pulling the blankets up over them. 

"Was it good for you?" Hawks asks, half-chuckling between deep breaths.

"It'll be good for me in the morning...if you're up for it," Dabi sighs with a smile before wrapping his arms around Hawks, pulling him into his chest. 

"Goodnight, Dabi," Hawks huffs, letting the relief wash over him as he yawns.

"Goodnight."

...

...

Sunrise manages to seep into the dark room of the love hotel, coming in through the almost opaque curtains and striking the crumpled bedsheets. Dabi is the first to stir, eyes blinking open to see Hawks' sleeping form. He hates the smile that instantly spreads across his face. He's got feelings for a hero...whether he wants to recognize what type of feelings they are or not. He crawls closer, pressing his lips to Hawks' forehead. The hero stirs, stretching his wings out, pupils turning to slits when he sees Dabi as he panics for a split second. It only takes another nanosecond for him to remember that he's not in any danger. 

"Morning," Hawks grins, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"G'mornin, birdie," Dabi sneers before pressing his lips to Hawks' in a sleepy, passionate kiss. Hawks hums into Dabi's mouth, leaning into his embrace. It doesn't take long for them to become a tangle of limbs and tongues, slowly growing erections rocking against one another as they connect their lips over and over again. 

"Wanna fuck you," Dabi slurs between sloppy kisses, "so bad."

"Please," Hawks whimpers, voice cracking between lip locks as his hands hastily run through Dabi's hair, dragging down to the scars on his shoulder blade where Hawks feels the rough patch of skin. Their labored breaths seem to echo off of the walls of the love hotel room, sweat beading on their bodies as they fluidly grind against each other.

"God, Hawks," Dabi moans lowly, words flowing like molasses on his tongue from his half-asleep brain. He grips Hawks' hips before reaching down and grabbing the underside of his thighs. 

"You ready, baby?" Dabi slurs, and Hawks nods, sleepy tears in his eyes as Dabi reaches over onto the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube and groaning as he strokes it over his cock. 

"Want you so bad," Dabi pants, softly biting his bottom lip as he slicks up his dick, lining it up with Hawks' hole. He lifts up Hawks' legs, spreading them up and apart as he slowly slips in, groaning as Hawks' walls squeeze every inch. 

"Dabi-hah-you-fuck you feel so good," Hawks stutters, eyes welling with tears as he focuses on the sensation of his lover stretching him open. The subtle praise goes right to Dabi's cock, and he slips all the way inside with a crisp smack of skin against skin. Dabi haphazardly rocks his hips back and forth, punching the air out of Hawks' lungs. 

"No one else can touch you," Dabi rasps, his voice ragged and gravelly, distorted by the brief sighs polluting his resolve. "No one else can fuck you. No one else. But me. Only me."

Hawks crumbles beneath Dabi's possessive words. He's never felt wanted...not really. Not in the ways that Dabi makes him feel wanted. 

"You're mine. You're fucking miiine," Dabi slurs, drunk off his own pleasure as he pants between languid thrusts. 

"I'm yours," Hawks chokes, tears streaming down his face, sleepy and euphoric. His brain is jelly, and his vision is blurry; he can't concentrate on anything but Dabi. 

"Mine," The villain groans, dissolving into the feeling of Hawks clamping down on him, into the sight of Hawks completely wrecked beneath him, into the sounds of Hawks crying in ecstasy, into the smells of pure, raw passion.

The rhythm of lovemaking is sloppy and all over the place, after all, they're both still half-asleep. Still, it's intoxicating, exhilarating, and everything in between. It's otherworldly. They're both so drunk on love and lust and ecstasy. 

"C'mere," Dabi sighs, leaning down and connecting their lips, kissing Hawks while they fuck. Hawks moans into Dabi's mouth, the vibrations tasting sweeter than honey on the villain's tongue. Dabi can feel the overwhelming rush rising in the pit of his stomach, his orgasm threatening to ravage him at any moment. 

"Close," Dabi gasps, grunting as his dick pulses inside Hawks. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside," Hawks blubbers, "Come inside me."

Dabi practically sticks his tongue down Hawks' throat as his hand snakes down his body and wraps around the hero's leaking cock, pumping his hand while he ruts up into his guts. Hawks cries out, back arching as he rapidly approaches his own climax. 

"Fuck," Dabi chokes out as he comes without warning, hips jerking as he empties inside of Hawks. It doesn't take long for Hawks to release into Dabi's hand, and, soon, they're both flushed and sweaty.

Hawks sighs as Dabi releases his flagging erection, and Dabi licks the pro's cum off his hand, never once breaking eye contact. Hawks shudders, even more blood rushing to his cheeks as he comes down from the high. 

"Gonna pull out. Ready?" Dabi huffs, and Hawks murmurs in agreement. Slowly, the villain and the hero separate, bodies still entangled, yet not as intimately as moments ago. Dabi rests on top of Hawks, listening to the feathered hero's heartbeat as he rests his head on his chest. 

"So...hah...we heading to the hideout?" Hawks chuckles, and Dabi grunts in irritation. 

"Gimme a minute. Then we'll go."

[pinkanonwrites]

@tadpoledancer​ made a throwaway post about someone writing Vash getting fingered until he cries, and somehow I’ve transformed that little thought bunny into 3,500 words of gratuitous Vash The Stampede smut. Also please keep in mind that there’s only three episodes of Trigun Stampede out so far, so even though this is Stampede!Vash it’s more of a hodge-podge between his ‘98 and ‘23 personalities as I know them to be.

Tadpole, and others, I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 here!

Stampede!Vash, G!N Reader but sharing a room with Meryl is mentioned, fingering, sub!Vash, dacryphilia, gratuitous use of the word “fuck” (if y’all notice anything else i should add to this top bit here lmk)

"Shh! Shh!"

"I'm not saying anything! You're the one giggling!"

"You're giggling too! Don't try and pin it all on me!" You hissed back, though it held no bite past your eager smile. The sun had set a few hours prior, desert air cooling just enough to no longer sting as you snuck down the motel hallway to Vash's room. Your socked feet slid silently along the old wooden floor as you crept past your companions' rooms to your target, the door cracked just enough to see Vash peering out waiting for you with a red flushed cheek and an eager eye shining behind his tinted lenses.

As you slipped through the gap and let the door slide quietly shut behind you, you found yourself bracketed in by Vash's arms. He stooped a bit to reach you more easily, cheeks rosy and eyes love-drunk as he hovered near you, bubbling with eager, nervous energy. Not that you didn't feel the exact same.

"Hi." He murmured.

"Hi." You responded. He squirmed a bit under your gaze, shifting from foot to foot. You leaned in to press a fluttering kiss to his cheek. Just a brush against his sun-kissed skin was enough to make him shiver, both flesh and metal hands resting on the sides of your shoulders, rubbing slowly up and down. He was beaming when you pulled away, red enough that you were surprised his glasses weren't fogging up.

This had been pretty routine for the two of you since joining up with Meryl, Roberto, and Wolfwood. Though you did your best to keep things low-key around the others, Nicholas had been the most vocal about pointing out Vash's favoritism for you. His teasing only served to make things more obvious to the others, and, well… You and Vash didn't want to give them any more ammunition to fluster the two of you than they already had.

Doubling up into hotel rooms was the best way to save some cash on the road, usually with you and Meryl in one, Roberto and Nick in another, and Vash in the third. But you always found yourself slipping out the door once Meryl dozed off, scampering and giggling down the hall to warm Vash's bed instead. And really, if you weren't keeping an eye out on your Humanoid Typhoon, who knows what could happen to him?

"Just one?" Vash nuzzled your cheek with his nose, letting out a delighted little hum when you gave another kiss on the cheek, then a third before meeting his lips.

"You look like you could fry an egg on your face right now. I don't need you overheating or anything."

He chuckled and leaned in for another kiss, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. "What can I say? Maybe you're worth frying for."

His lips were warm, ever so slightly chapped, and it wasn't long before they were parting to meet your sly tongue with his own. You tangled your fingers in his shower-damp hair as he pressed you up against the door, molding his body perfectly to yours. His hands slid down the length of your arms, down to cup each of your hips and hold you right up against him, leaving nowhere for you to go between his broad body and the door.

"Did you-mmh…" He struggled to keep his train of thought on track in between wet, lazy kisses. "Did you still wanna…?"

"Would I be here if I didn't?" You responded, pulling away both to let Vash continue to ramble and to pepper teasing kisses down the slope of his neck.

"I dunno, I just, hah… Wanted you to know you could change your mind if you want. I wouldn't-ohh…w-wouldn't mind."

You knew Vash could feel you smiling against his neck right before you trailed your teeth down the tight, corded muscle. "You ask me if I wanna finger-fuck you and you honestly think I'm gonna say no?"

He let out a quiet little eep! at your choice of words, tipping his head up and away so you couldn't see his wobbly, flustered expression. "I mean, you don't gotta say it just like that!" Lucky for you, trying to hide his face like that only served to give you more room to kiss and nibble on his sun-warmed skin. "Just letting you know you have the option, is all."

"Vash." You cooed against his neck, and you could swear you felt his length stiffen against you through his old, worn-out pajama pants when you did. "I just wanna make you feel good, that's all. If you're not sure we don't have to do anything, but I promise I'd tell you if I wasn't comfortable."

"Yeah?" He hummed. Finally he tipped his head back down to meet your gaze, and you could see it in his eyes. As far as he was willing to go to make sure you felt okay and comfortable, Vash really wanted this. He wanted it bad.

"Yes. Let me fuck you, baby boy. I'll make you feel so good."

He whimpered, and you knew you'd gotten him hooked. It was a clumsy backwards stumble to reach the bed, neither of you willing to part from the other for more than a breath. When the backs of Vash's knees hit the mattress edge he tumbled back, taking you with him in a clumsy heap and a painfully loud squeaking of old bedsprings that you probably should have been a bit more worried about than you actually were in the moment. You tugged at the bottom of his nightshirt as you straddled his hips, shoving it upwards to reveal more of his broad, scarred chest.

"Take it off." You mumbled, dipping your head to kiss around the edge of one of the deep pink wounds before he could reply. As he struggled to get the fabric around and over the shoulder joint of his prosthetic you lathed your tongue over the hypersensitive skin, smiling to yourself when you felt him shiver down to the tips of his toes.

"Th-That's cheating, you know? Getting me while I'm distracted?" He huffed. You just blew softly over the place you'd just licked and made him shiver a second time. "Maybe you're the real dangerous one around here, Mayfly."

Down the broad slope of his chest you continued to kiss, over faded slash marks and old bullet holes, lavishing each inch of him with the love and attention you knew he deserved, no matter how often he tried to rebuff it. You felt one of his hands cup the back of your head, fingers warm and rough in your hair so you immediately knew which one. At the waistband of his pants you peered up again through your eyelashes, over his heaving chest to his face where he had his lower lip worried between his teeth.

"Having fun?" You cooed. He bit out a short laugh and cracked a wobbly grin in response.

"Could be having more." He responded.

"Are you gonna keep being cheeky or are you gonna help me get your pants off first?"

"Little bit of both. Gotta keep things entertaining, after all.~" You both laughed as he lifted up his hips, letting you wrestle his sleep pants and underwear off in one fell swoop to be tossed somewhere on the floor to find later. This was an unfamiliar position for the two of you to be in, Vash naked with you still basically fully-clothed. He was always a giver, never wanting to take the pleasure you offered without offering it tenfold in return. But tonight you were the one in control, not Vash. So you cozied yourself right up between his legs and ran the pad of your thumb up his length, slow and steady, from the base all the way to the tip. His hips jumped in response, a short, stuttered thrust chasing the fleeting touch of your fingers even as you trailed them away and Vash let out a punched-out whine.

"You've still got lube, right?" You asked. It took a second for Vash to process, eyes lidded and expression trained on your hands, but once it sunk in he snapped back up to attention.

"Yeah! Little pocket of my bag, lemme just…" He rolled over onto his stomach to reach over the edge of the bed for his bag. As he strained outwards for the handle, unwilling to actually stand up and walk over to it, he presented you with an accidental view of his pert, toned backside. You slid both hands up the backs of his thighs to his ass and squeezed, digging your fingers into his firm cheeks. The scandalized little yelp you got in response made it absolutely worth it.

"Taking advantage of me when my guard is down, even! Who's the real dangerous outlaw around here?"

"Big talk from the guy who's about to get railed." You purred, stretching over Vash's body to pluck the mostly-full bottle of lube from his grasp. You spread him open with one thumb, the other popping the cap on the bottle with an audible click that sent a shiver down Vash's spine. "This is gonna be cold, m'kay?"

"'m ready. Hit me with your best shot!" His voice was partially muffled by the pillow, but there was a waver of unabashed desire behind the playful taunt. You tipped the bottle over and squeezed, letting a generous amount of lube dribble down Vash's ass and pool at his hole.

"Cold!" He yelped. You simply shushed him, rubbing your thumb back and forth over his slick, pink entrance.

"Shhh, don't worry baby. It's gonna feel real good, I promise."

You spent far too long simply teasing at the edges of pleasure, thumbs spreading Vash open and drawing slick trails of lube as you slowly worked him up. You massaged your fingertip over his entrance, rocking slowly back and forth and letting his body open up to you. Every time you got a stifled little sound of pleasure out of Vash you made sure to reward it with a praise of your own; knowing him he'd probably think his little sounds were annoying but you just couldn't get enough of them.

"You can-" He gasped, back arching and pressing towards you with the next swipe of your thumb over his twitching hole. "-Can try putting one in now. Please?"

"Of course, baby. Stay just like that for me, okay?"

You were almost surprised how quickly Vash's body yielded to you, your index finger sinking up to the second knuckle in his wet, pliant heat. You pulled back slow before pressing forward again, a gentle rhythmic rock that already had Vash keening. His cock was pushed down between his legs and pressed against the mattress, and on the next slow thrust you rubbed your wet thumb across the underside of his head. The response was instant, a muffled wail, a gush of pre-cum drizzling across the bedsheets, it damn near gave you a headrush yourself with how much it aroused you.

"Vash." You groaned, thrusting your finger forward and watching his entire body jolt again. "Fuck, you look so good. You should see yourself right now, baby. So fuckin' eager for me. You think you can do two?"

He nodded frantically, voice muffled by the pillow and garbled with pleasure but you were still able to make out something that sounded mostly like "Yes!" So you carefully pulled out, pressing your index and middle finger in this time, slow and steady. It was tighter this time, obviously, but Vash's walls gave away as you gently worked him open, his pink hole stretching around your fingers as you scissored them. You tried to crook your fingers down, towards his stomach. There was supposed to be a spot there, small, kind of spongy, if you could just get your fingers to curl the right way then…

"AAAH!?~"

Vash seemed as surprised by the noise he made as you were to hear it, clapping both hands over his mouth and wincing as his metal fingers clanged sharply against his teeth. The two of you fell perfectly still as your ears strained to hear if any of your room neighbors had awoken. From the opposite wall you could just barely make out Roberto's thunderous snoring, blissfully asleep and oblivious to you and Vash's night time activities.

"Holy shit, Vash."

"Sorry!" He hissed, the back of his neck and ears burning bright red. "I didn't know it was gonna feel like that!"

"No, no, it's okay! It was just… Fuck, that was really hot. You still good?"

He nodded, face still hidden mostly by the pillow. You crooked your fingers again to hit that same soft spot, and though the sound was much more muffled this time the effect it had on him was still obvious. He shuddered, a deep, desperate groan muffled into his pillow case as you thrust forward again, and again, grazing that soft spot half the time but hitting it dead on every other. Now that you'd found that spot, you didn't want to give it up so easily, especially with the noises it kept drilling out of Vash. The wet shlick of your fingers pounding his asshole joined the sound of each of your huffed breaths and his pleasured whimpers.

"You're so good for me, baby." You murmured, feeling woozy and delirious with power over how easily you were able to make the world's greatest gunman fall to his knees before you. Pleasure coiled low in your gut, hot and wanting, but you were more than willing to wait for it just for the chance to watch Vash fall apart. "So pretty, taking my fingers so well. I'd do this for you every night if you wanted it Vash, you sound so fucking wrecked."

You couldn't really hear him all that much anymore, but you could see the way his shoulders were shivering with each ragged breath and pulse of white-hot pleasure. You crooked both fingers hard, finding his prostate and pressing down, not letting up. His entire body quivered like he'd grabbed a live wire, and somewhere through the din of your own desire and his muffled noises you heard something concerning. A single soft, wet sniffle.

Immediately you pulled back, easing up on the pressure and watching his entire shivering body drop back into the mattress like he'd gone limp. His glasses had been pushed up into his bangs, his face fully hidden by the pillow. But without the continuous slick sound of your fingers you were able to hear another near-silent sniff.

"Vash, baby?" You carefully pulled your fingers out, resting your clean hand on the small of his back. "Are you okay?"

He nodded frantically in response, but otherwise stayed perfectly silent.

"Can you roll over for me?"

He jolted, falling perfectly still. You rubbed a slow, careful circle into his lower back with your palm.

"Please? I wanna see your face, Vash. For me?"

After a long, silent moment, Vash finally shifted, pulling his face away from where he'd hidden in the pillow and turning around to face you. He looked thoroughly fucked, face red with an indent of a fabric crease in his cheek where he'd pressed the pillow too close for too long. But he was also sniffling, snotty and wet as fresh, hot tears rolled over his cheeks. It made your heart clench, twisting painfully behind your ribcage as you reached up to cradle his face.

"Oh, baby. Baby. Hold on." You shifted up his body, straddling his waist so you could cradle his head to your chest. He let out an embarrassed little hum, but made no move to push you away. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"...It's embarrassing." He mumbled. "Didn't want you to see me all wrecked like this, it's seriously uncool."

"But I didn't hurt you?"

"Whuh-? No!" He jerked back, finally meeting your gaze with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He grabbed your wrists with each hand and held you close to him. "No, never you, Mayfly."

"So you're crying cause it feels good?"

He shifted anxiously at the question, gaze flitting around the dark room. "I, uh, I mean- Yeah? I kinda thought that was obvious, and you keep saying all that stuff that's like- like wow. Wow."

You didn't hurt him, not in the slightest. You'd brought him so much pleasure with your touch and your words that you were able to bring him to tears? That… That was…

"Vash, that's so fucking sexy."

"Bwuh?"

You shoved against his chest, pushing him back into the mattress as you shifted back down his hips. The low, pooling desire that had been purring in the pit of your belly erupted into a bonfire of pleasure as you situated yourself again, crooking two fingers into Vash's open hole while your other hand fisted his cock. He keened, hips jumping up into your grasp as his hands flew to cover his mouth.

"I wanna hear you. I wanna see you." You groaned, straddling one of Vash's legs so you could roll your hips down against his knee. It sent little white sparks of pleasure dancing up your spine and behind your eyelids, but they were nothing compared to the picture painted before you. "Lemme make you cry, baby boy. Let me see it."

"Oh, oh, oh fuck." He gasped, ragged and wet. Another wave of big, shimmery tears rolled over his cheeks, and he accidentally knocked his glasses all the way up and over the top of his head while trying to scrub them away. They clattered somewhere down in between the bedframe and the wall and you knew you'd have to get down on your hands and knees and feel around for them for him later but right now you just didn't care.

Now you had Vash, Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon, whimpering and begging at your mercy.

Both his face and his cock were shimmery-wet and flushed red, punctured gasps and dribbles of pre-cum escaping with each harsh thrust of your fingers. You could feel his thigh strain and twitch desperately beneath your crotch, each jolt and shiver making your own pleasure burn all the hotter. Finally you could hear him, each ragged gasp, each wet sniffle and whine, each punched out, desperate wheeze of your name interspersed with little 'fuck!'s and 'please!'s and 'I love you!'s.

"Fff-uhhh, fuck please. Oh, oh, please if you don't let me cum I'm gonna break, please Mayfly!"

"Yes, yes Vash. Do it. Cum for me. That's my good boy!"

Twice, thrice more you thrust your fingers up hard against his prostate before his back arched off the bed and a shivering desperate groan escaped his lips as Vash unloaded himself all across his scar-marked chest. You slowed your hand but kept your fingers pressing, massaging, pulse after pulse of thick cum splattering up and across his chest as you wrung him dry. His hole twitched pathetically around your fingers as you worked, and you heard the sharp, metal creak of his lost-technology hand permanently denting a grip mark into the metal bed frame as he sobbed.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Finally, when you'd wrung him dry and he had absolutely nothing left to give, you released his cock from your grip and let it fall to his tummy with a wet smack. Carefully you removed your fingers, trailing a final thumb over his red, stretched hole before turning your attention back to Vash's face. It was impossible to tell where tears ended and sweat began, his eyelashes clumped and shimmering and his bangs plastered to his damp forehead. He moaned softly as you scooted towards him, giving him another soft, fluttering kiss on the lips.

"You're gonna… You're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for if you kiss me now, Mayfly." He teased. "But that's your problem, snot mine."

"You're so gross." You hummed, all the love and affection you could fit into three words swimming in your tone. You snuggled yourself up next to him, cradling your head in his arms. "I'll get a washcloth in a minute, okay? Get you all cleaned up."

"Mmh, okay." He let his head thunk into the valley of your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "Gimme… gimme fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. Then it's your turn."

"You are way too fucked out to do anything for me, Vash. Just rest, I'll be fine, I know you'll make it up to me."

He whined, kicking one foot like a petulant child. "Aww, c'mon! It doesn't have to be much. What about my fingers?"

You could feel him smile slyly against your chest as he continued.

"...My mouth?"

A pulse of heat made itself known once more between your legs, and you hummed softly.

"Let's see if you can stay awake that long, wonderboy."

"What happened to 'baby boy'?"

"I'll call you baby boy when you're being good. Do you wanna be good for me?"

Despite how wrung out he was you could feel Vash shiver against you and oh, oh, the two of you would certainly be exploring that dynamic more in the future, so long as you had anything to say about it.

"Mhmm…" He hummed, barely awake.

"Alright. Then let's get you cleaned up, baby boy."

[darlingshane]

Violent Desires

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank doesn't like being called 'daddy' but you do it anyway to rile him up and have him punish you.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Spanking, Light bondage, Mild Daddy Kink, Brat!Reader, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is loosely inspired by some events at the beginning of The Punisher’s season 2.

— You can read below or at AO3.

Spending the summer in a grimy motel with no AC in bumfuck nowhere with an asshole you met only a few weeks ago isn't exactly a dream vacation. But trouble always has led you to the strangest of places. And considering that you might be dead if you hadn't met Frank Castle that night, you can't really complain about your current status. You got yourself here, and you should be thankful for still having all your limbs and head attached to your body.

Still, it doesn’t make it easy to show gratitude to a prickling jerk with a fucking savior complex, when all he does is boss you and hustle you around however he desires.

You can’t help but wonder what’s in this for him. At first, you believed he just wanted a piece of ass, like every other bastard you’ve met, but no, Frank is not about that. At least he hasn’t shown any interest in you in that way.

This isn’t about money for him, either. You’ve offered, and he’s declined any of your offers.

Perhaps, it’s all about doing the right thing – being a hero, whatever that means. But you’re not a saint, or a damsel in distress, and he knows that. Messing with the wrong people by holding onto something that Greenway wanted, and never got, thanks to your unyielding knight in shining armor, is what got you into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, you figure out why and realize that this arrangement has nothing to do with you or being noble in the slightless.

It’s about the fight.

He lives for it. Welcomes it. Seeks it. Needs it like oxygen.

Violence fuels him to keep going. It courses through his veins, thicker than his own blood.

Every day, it becomes more obvious you’re merely a means to an end in the hands of The punisher. You figured who he was too when you found an old newspaper piece with his face taped on the back of an old van’s window, when you stopped for gas once.

Frank or Pete. Neither name means anything to you.

His life is a tragedy, there's no denying that. But that doesn't give him a pass to be that inconsiderate towards you.

You’re a stranger to him. He doesn’t owe you shit, and vice versa. But when he saw you in trouble, unlike the rest of the world, he didn't hesitate for a second to risk his own life by getting between you and the men that were chasing after you.

After getting out of that roadhouse, he drove you from town to town for the most part of the last month, killing any dumbass that dared to track you down, until they stopped following you.

Living closely together with him is no picnic. He watches you like a hawk, always alert, and acts as more of a captor rather than a protector sometimes.

At this point, you're not sure what comes next. Is he going to be your keeper forever? Cause you’re getting tired of this situation and you just wanna go back to your life, or whatever is left. The truth is, Greenway killed everyone you knew, so you don’t have much to return to. Maybe sticking by Frank’s side is the best option for you right now.

Warranted or not, this isn’t over yet. He took down some of Greenway’s most dangerous men, and more are on the way. You’re both sure that the big boss is still looking for the woman, you, who has the key to bring him down. It consists of a pesky pen drive that if were to fall into the right hands, it'd mean the end to his crime ring. That's the only insurance that’s keeping you from pushing daisies in an unmarked grave somewhere.

That and Frank.

It’s been a couple of weeks since you were last tracked to that motel in Wyoming. The mileage of Frank’s van has collected thousands of miles since, and tonight you’re up for an adventure. So, you sneak out past your guard the first chance you get to explore the new town. Temperatures are painfully hot, and you just take shelter in a bar with a good air conditioner. You play pool, have a drink or two, and dance with newfound friends for a couple of hours past Frank’s dinner time.

“Where the hell were you?” his voice grumbles, one hand reaching to pull the beaded string from the old-as-fuck lamp on the night table between the twin beds when you step into the room.

It’s past midnight, you said earlier you were going to get some snacks from the bending machine and that’s when you decided to go on a walk around town instead. Because you’re not a goddamn child, or a helpless girl who can’t keep herself safe. He acts like you're both. You’re neither.

You simply shrug indifferently at his question, toeing off your slip-on shoes by the foot of the bed.

“You got anything to say, huh?” he mutters, rising from his bed to tower over you.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” you turn your back to him, and start shedding clothes off.

“The fuck did you just say?” he snarls oh so gravely. Tone laced in anger. You can feel the rough texture of his voice on the surface of your back when you pull your shirt over your head.

“Said I was sorry, daddy,” you pout, slipping out of your pants and kneeling on your bed, stripped to your underwear.

“Are you drunk?”

“Just a lil buzzed, daddy.”

“Stop calling me that. For fuck's sake! What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Isn't that what you are, though? You act like it. You sound like it. Always telling me what to do, what to eat, where to go… If you don't want me to call you that, then stop trying to control me.”

“You'd be dead in a ditch somewhere if I hadn’t done all that. Hate me all you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know that’s true.”

“So you keep saying, Oh Almighty Savior, but I was doing fine until I met you,” you stick out your pointer finger and poke his chest twice with malice.

“I doubt that,” he shoves your hand away. “And we still gotta find what kind of shit you bring to our door after your impromptu outing tonight.”

“Relax, if the punisher couldn't track me down, neither could they.”

“You better be right. Christ! You’re such a goddamn brat. You say you wanna stop running, but you’re being utterly careless,” he starts pacing the short length of the room, peeking out the window here and there.

“Why are you always so angry?” your lips turn into a half grin, as you shift on the bed, getting on all fours, showing your ass in his direction as he walks past your bed. “You wanna come take it out on me, daddy? I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

“So help me, God! Call me that one more time…” stopping in his tracks just for a beat, his teeth grit together, as the muscles of his jaw get all worked up.

“And what? What are you gonna do, daddy? Tape my mouth and handcuff me to the radiator again? You wanna know what I did tonight? C’mere and make me tell you.”

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you tonight, you’re not even that drunk. But you find it quite entertaining to rile him up like that.

For a moment, he stares at you like he wanted to rip you apart, like all those men you’ve seen perish in The Punisher’s wake.

You want him too.

You need him too.

Frank just stares and swallows anxiously, unable to decide what to do with you and your erratic behavior.

“Stop being a pussy and show me what the big bad punisher can do,” you keep provoking him, wiggling your ass in the air. “I know you’ve been sitting there all night, just itching like crazy to beat the hell out of someone. Or fuck someone’s brains out. I guess it’s just the same feeling.”

“Keep running your fucking mouth like that. See how far that gets you.”

You press your teeth on your bottom lip, glance at him over your shoulder before spelling the magic word, “do you wanna use my mouth, daddy?”

There's no doubt you're in big trouble when he abandons his pacing, and closes the window’s blinds in one harsh motion before standing behind you with such an imposing dark shadow it makes the hairs on your skin rise.

Silence takes over for three seconds and without a warning, that silence is broken by the sound of your panties being torn apart effortlessly with his fingers. It makes you ache in a whole different way when you look over your shoulder again to see his nose flaring and his eyes falling into the depths of lust as his fist clutches to your now-ruined underwear.

“Don't fucking look at me like that,” he mutters, lip curling into a snarl. And before you can say anything, he reaches with his free hand to hold your jaw while he shoves the shredded panties into your mouth. “You call me Frank or Sir, but I don't wanna hear you say that word again. Got that? Nod if you understand.”

The brat in you wants to say – yes, daddy – but you do as you're told. Dip your chin, and keep your head low.

His large warm palms roam the sides of your hips now. Gripping firmly to your skin as if he wanted to dig his fingertips past the delicate surface of your body to get his hands covered in your blood, and taste it; drown himself in it. That’s exactly how it feels.

It’s nothing but desperate. All this time without a companion has turned it into something he never was, at least not in bed. A bloodlust creature he’d sworn once he would never become. But you’re a different kind of breed, one that can take him places he’s never dared to visit, he recognizes. And right now all he wants to do is satisfy the monster sharpening its teeth under his skin, and feed him with your desire.

With one hand anchored to your hip, he sends the other to undo his belt. You hear the familiar unbuckling sound and the rustling of the fabric as he slides the fine leather off the jeans’ loops.

For a second, you think he’s going to strike you with it, but no. He instead slides the leather around your neck.

“Stay still,” it falls under a heavy breath between his lips.

A pitched sound echoes in your throat as he buckles it tight around your neck. It doesn't have a notch to hold on to up that high, so Frank curls the end around his fist to keep the leather snug around your neck.

“What? Isn’t this what you wanted, little brat?” he tugs on it a little.

The pace of your heart picks up, but you nod again in your makeshift leash. You trust him, nonetheless. He wouldn’t have gotten you this far if he was going to kill you.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumble around the fabric of your underwear.

Then, you feel the deft fingers of his opposite hand, gliding from your ass and up your back to unclasp your bra. He lets you slip one arm at a time or off the straps as he presses his bulge against your ass. It stirs at burning arousal in your core. Your walls soften and flutter deliciously in anticipation.

Enjoying himself, he presses his hips a little harder, making sure you can feel the hard outline of his cock swelling behind the denim fabric. It's substantially bigger than you thought. It's daunting and exciting to think about him defiling your pussy with it.

“Let's see what you're made of,” he tentatively moves one hand between your legs, shoving his twitchy finger in your folds to collect your slickness. “Christ, you're so fucking wet.”

In his power play, as he rubs circles around your clit, every time your face dips lower, he pulls the belt to keep your head straight up, facing the ugly headboard of the uncomfortable bed. You can only imagine what people do in places like this, and how many dirty secrets this bed and these four walls have seen. They're about to witness another when Frank releases the end of the belt, letting the leather lose its constriction around your neck.

You let out a shaky breath through your nose as he takes his other hand away from your sex. A second after, both his palms land on your chest and feast on your tits. He fills his eager hands, squeezing as hard as they did on your ass to mark his digits on them. Claiming them as if they existed only for his enjoyment.

Working himself up, he lets out a grunt, and pinches your nipples with vehemence just to hear you squeal again.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he soothes his palms softer on your puckered peaks and frees them at once to finally undo his fly and release his erection.

Frank glances down, spits on his palm, and spreads his saliva around the blunt tip of his cock before guiding himself into your pussy. You're already drenched, but your entrance welcomes the extra lubrication as he slowly sheathes himself inside you.

Your eyes flutter shut, feeling the breadth of his swelling stretching your opening in that first stroke.

“God, you’re so tight,” Frank's lips part as a shy, beautiful moan slides past his teeth at the fine pressure of your slicked walls. He pulls himself out fully, and repeats that motion again to capture how your entrance grips around his length when he breaches you.

Abandoning himself to the depths of your walls, his thrusts are nothing but experimental for a few strokes before unleashing the violent desires of his inner monster to let his hips slam against your ass at full force.

Claiming every inch of you, he keeps your body in submission with his hands clutching the curves of your ass, and you gladly surrender to his whims. His fingers sink in new places, stamping their prints and half moons when his nails press harder on your skin.

The room oozes of sweat and sex and the lewd sounds that come from his body colliding against yours over and over, and the creaking of the bed.

Yours fists ball the flowery bedspread for a long time before sending one of your hands between your legs to care for your clit.

“Did I say that you could touch yourself?” he spanks your ass twice to put a stop to your hand.

“Please… I need it,” you articulate with difficulty.

“Stop whining, and fucking take it,” his palm smacks your rear once more, harder.

Ignoring your pleading, the punishing rhythm of his cock, crawling up to the hilt, becomes more desperate as it brings you closer to ecstasy; thrust after thrust. Your body shudders in delight, and every time you cry out his name, curl your hips against his moves, or beg, you're gifted with a new smack.

As you reach the tipping point, his force turns sharper, meaner. It's at that moment that all your muscles seize up, and everything becomes blurry before letting the orgasm take over your body. You groan and pull yourself away from Frank's reach to lay face down on the mattress.

You might have had enough, but he's not satisfied yet and before the orgasm ebbs he grabs the curves of your ass, pulling them up to their former position, while you keep your head and shoulders pressed to the bed. He keeps you like that with one hand and uses the other to shove his cock back inside, capturing the relentless flutters and contractions of your walls from your orgasm.

“Did I tell you to come?” he breathes fire, using a harsh palm to chastise you once more.

Still up in your high, you can only hum in response.

“Answer me!” he demands, extending his fingers to your lips to pull the fabric out of your mouth.

“I… I’m sorry, Sir.”

The overstimulation barely lets you word that out, as he grows overjoyed, watching you struggle between battling your orgasm and the new strange entity that overcomes your body. It’s a different kind of beast, fueled by a great amount of stamina, that doesn’t waver when it comes to picking up the same wild rhythm as before. He sweats it out, works it out, growls it out like a fucking animal until all his seed is poured into your tenderness and the lust-hungry monster is finally sated.

As that creature goes back to its cave, Frank goes limp on your side.

You stretch your legs and lay on your stomach, as he rests on his back. He notices just now how his clothes are still on and how annoying they become as they cling to the layer of sweat trying to cool down his body.

Glancing to the side, you see his chest rising and falling at a fast rate, as your heart starts to settle.

“That was…” he starts, and you can see a glimpse of a tiny smile taking over one corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you let out a sigh, sliding the leather that was still partially hanging around your neck, letting it fall to the floor.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, Frank. You didn’t.”

“I know you said that I could. But for a moment I thought– I don’t know what came over me… I never wanted to… didn’t mean to…”

“Frank,” you put a palm on his chest to stop that complicated thought. “We had sex. It was great. Don’t overthink it. I’d have hit you at any point if I felt threatened or unsafe. Trust me.”

“Bet you would’ve.”

Your lips curve up, observing his body completely relaxed for the first time in weeks.