#me watching them pass like 'what in the goddamn....?'

[saschax]

delirium

(n) a sudden and serious change in mental abilities that causes confusion and reduced awareness of the surroundings.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: delirium (as the name suggests), a bit boring?

ghost is sick, and he was shot on his side, causing alot of blood to spill out.

however.

there was one problem.

the radio was broken, reader accidentally dropped the radio somewhere around her run, and since ghost was shot at the moment- she had no choice but leaved the radio (she didnt know where it was, and the two was being shot at) and recused ghost.

she cursed herself for dropping the radio, but she just couldn't help but flinced when she heard ghost lets out a pained grunt.

thankfully, ghost was awake at the time, so reader didn't have to carry him- correction: she couldn't carry him, she's not that strong.. so ghost limping, but reader trying her best to make him walk, they both went somewhere.

they're safe. for now, and when they got to a safe location, she patched up ghost to the best of her ability.

ghost, passed out behind her, and the two is in an abandoned barn. ghost been passed out for, 20 minutes now? she thinks.

she makes sure to stand watch, and also making sure to check other windows to make sure no one is sneaking up on the other side.

she hears a shuffle, and immediately turns, her gun pointing at the noise.

false alarm.

its just ghost moving, but just incase- she did a quick scan over in the building.

she moves towards the injured lieutenant, but then moves to the side slightly to pick up an uncapped water bottle, almost full.

handing ghost the bottle dutifully. he takes it, lift his mask slightly above the nose, drains it in entirety (reader watches with bug-eyes), then passes out again. she could tell because his head just lopsided, and his hand that held the bottle just fell to his side, releasing the bottle in the process.

she watches the bottle slides somewhere, her eyebrows arched in amazement.

"...well." she says, staring at him, "he was definitely thirsty."

looking out the window, its starting to get a bit dark outside. she sighs, hoping no one- well, she hopes their team finds them, but she certainly didn't want any enemies to find them, capture or kill them.

that didn't sound too ... good.

she giggles a bit when she leans in and down a bit to lower ghost's mask.

—

the next time ghost wakes up, its in the middle of the night.

its not hard to miss, when reader is watching outside the window. he jolts up like someone just shocked him, suddenly breathing erratically, and she nearly drops her weapon in an effort to get to his side and makes sure he doesn't ruin the stiches she made.

"hey! its me—reader!" she drops the weapon, raising her hands to show she means no harm as she quickly approaches. ghost's head snaps up to her, then stares.

reader experienced him in this state (usually happens when he get nightmares) plenty of time, enough to know to what to do.

when he doesn't do anything, reader motions for him to stay where he is and grabs any water bottle in her backpack.

like before, ghost downs it greedily, only giving it once the bottle is sucked dry. and after that, he lowers his mask this time. she takes it gently away from him.

"you must be thirsty," a weak smile makes their way onto her face.

nothing, and the silence made her laugh nervously, haha..

"Haw aa ya feelin'?" she asks him.

moment went by, and ghost is still staring at her. making reader go uneasy.

whats even more uneasy is..

ghost who is jumpier than both her and the entire army combined; ghost who stays up all night with twitchy hands; ghost who scarfed down anything they gave him without preference or complaint like he was starving; ghost who was so goddamn weird that it made her head hurt.

the masked man felt untouchable— a phantom, a ghost.

ghost was painfully palpable to the point where even he seemed surprised when someone else would touch him. as if he thought they would just phase right through him somehow.

really, seeing him injured and hurting felt impossible. like reader had forgotten that under that mask of his, he was just some regular guy that could get shot and pass out as much as she or gaz-- price-- or the entire army could.

it confused her more than anything.

and she can't tell if ghost is processing anything. even with the mask on, he seems dazed. not all there and struggling to process what reader is saying at all.

then abruptly, he jerks forward and grabs one of reader's wrist. she freezes but ghost didn't pay much attention to that, instead looking at her very seriously - or at least, it feels like he is.

then he surprises her by speaking.

"not safe here," ghost's voice is strangled and cracks, but he forces the words out urgently. "you need to run- leave me- you need to get out of here-- makarov!"

its the mention of makarov that has reader catching on. she cuts ghost before he gets hysterical. "we're not there anymore- we moved to a different place! we're safe, i promise."

an empty promise, but she hopes ghost'll calm down.

its hard to get a read on him without seeing his expression. reader thinks that was purposeful, but his grip on her does go slack in disbelief.

"its fine," she continues, because the last thing either of them needs is him freaking out like a madman. "makarov, he's not here. its safe."

she thinks he believes her. she goes to pull away, but then ghost tugs him back, less urgent but still insistent.

she frowns but ghost ignores her. his head drifting down to look at her hands. when reader tries to move again, not only is she pulled back but ghost's grip is tightened. not painful but it certainly catches her attention.

ghost shifts, audibly wincing at first but seems to make room like he wants reader to shift next to him. this fact is confirmed when he tugs reader's wrist again, pulling her closer.

curious, she complies. she carefully settles in the now empty spot next to ghost, unsure of what exactly he wants.

it feels uncomfortable, leaning on this wooden pole.

ghost finally lets go but moves hastily like he thinks he’s on some sort of time limit. one of his gloves is tugged off revealing a pale hand underneath, then said hand quickly grabs reader's wrist again.

skin touches skin and ghost's breath hitches but he seems focused on something else. two fingers are pressed against reader's wrist, and after a moment, reader realizes that he’s checking her pulse.

she looks up, her eyes landing on ghost's mask. then it went down to look at ghost's ungloved hand.

she never really saw his hand before, despite knowing eachother for months.

this is the first time she saw something of his skin.

she doesn't understand why he is doing this, but it seems to calm him down slightly so she doesn't make any objections.

"alive." ghost rasps. he seems to be mostly talking to himself.

okay.. so he thinks she was dead? "yes, i'm alive." she confirms.

his head jerks up, looking around wildly, "roach—! soap—!"

she stares at him confusingly, brows furrowed. roach? soap? who the-

ghost starts to get up, making her panick and blurt out some words. "they're fine! they are just.. just picking some things." audible gulps came from her.

his hand curls around reader's wrist again, almost… protectively? “makarovl won’t toch you— i swear it.”

“there’s no danger—” she tries but ghost cuts her off.

“can’t risk it. you can’t die.” His tone sounds desperate now. 

she nods absentminddly, she never knew ghost.. ghost would act or behave, or even talk like this. seems way out of his character, what is going on?

"okay, okay.." she relents. "ill stay here.. not. going anywhere.."

ghost seems to melt with relief and presses against reader's side like he’s afraid she's suddenly going to disappear on him. which is weird because reader was under the impression that ghost actively didn’t like being touched from how he flinched at so much as someone brushing up against him but now he seems almost… content? is that the right word here?

“uh.” she says, because what else is she supposed to say?

moments passes.

and the next words suprised her.

"fix it." he breathes out, moving closer to her. like he's about to lean her head against her chest.

"fix what?" she asks.

"me."

and that made her quiet, but ghost didn't mind. that was evident as he fell asleep.

—

she hears doors opening, which caused her to try and get out of ghost's grasp, whose grip becomes even tighter.

"ghost- let me go-" she whispers as quietly as she can, keeping her eyes on the door. now she's not trying to get out- but get her gun thats laying in front of her.

ghost mumbles something incoherently, can't care about this now- she grips the gun, held it correctly and aims it at the door.

fuck- get off me ghost!

and to her relief, she sees captain price going through the door. not some enemies.

how did they find them?

"price—!" and when price immediately turns to the two, her heart jumps and she splutters, "blue! blue!"

that seems to get price to slightly lower his gun, looking at them with widen eyes, specifically at ghost.

the man in question has his head pressed against reader's chest, and is sprawled out on top of her, his arms seem tightly wound around reader's torso.

"is he fucking cuddling you?" price blurts out the second his thoughts catches up to him. he shuts the door behind him at last, and makes his way over to them like he can't believe his eyes.

"uh, yeah. i think so?" she laughs quietly, looking down at ghost. "he kinda just did that. on his own." after a pause, she adds, "he's really out of it."

“yeah, I kinda figured that part out.” price can’t suppress a laugh. “this feels like a fever dream.”

"mmm." is what she responds.

and ever since ghost got better, he been avoiding reader like a plague.

thanks price, for telling him and the whole damn team! she groans internally in her mind, fuckin' price can't keep a damn secret.

and worse is.. task force 141 thinks they're in a relationship or somethin'..

A.N i gave up on pervert könig, there were hardly any details about him, and i dont know what to search up on youtube because its all.. edits, not him. so, i cant find any ideas for him, sorry guys.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #task force 141 #price cod #john price #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #mentions of #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #roach cod #soap cod #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost

[orcelito]

i remember when i was 19 & moved in with my random choice roommate. we were out walking to grab food together (this being b4 i realized we just Were Not compatible personalities & proceeded to near ignore her for a year lol). & i looked both ways for a one way street & she was like “Lol why would you do that, it’s a one way street.” & i was just like “The person going the wrong way on a one-way street is the one more likely to hit me.” and she was just like “Ummm ok lol”

anyways i pass a one-way street every day going to and from work & the other day i saw someone driving the wrong way down the street in front of me and i just felt slightly vindicated 

#speculation nation #me watching them pass like 'what in the goddamn....?' #i did not. even register they were going down the wrong way on the street. until they were already turning off of it #so like im pretty sure they realized they were going the wrong way. but it was still very weird #like come on ppl. these things are Marked #but also that piece of wisdom from me came from the place of experience of BOTH when i was a kid #being in the car with my mom was she went down the wrong way of a street #then when i was a teen being in the car with my grandpa as he turned into an exit road from a parking lot #my dad's taught me to be very vigilant with anything cars. #like when ur driving. ALWAYS checking to make sure no one's coming. even if youve got the green light #because like 99.99% of the time it'll be fine. you'll go through a light with no problems. #but that 0.01% of the time where someone runs a red light and into YOU. youre gonna WISH you'd cleared that light. #and this kinda thing is why ive managed to not get into any wrecks with my bike despite being kinda a dumbass asshole with how i bike lol #im aggressive but typically not stupid. and it works for me. #anyways cars are terrifying and i hope u drivers take this shit seriously. #drivers who get too complacent are responsible for some horrible losses of life. im determined to never end up that way too.

[tojisun]

simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.

“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.

“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”

there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.

“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”

“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”

simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.

your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.

he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.

“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”

“swear,” simon murmurs.

like a goddamn liar.

he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.

he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.

“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”

he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.

then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.

he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”

he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.

“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”

simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.

he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”

simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”

something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.

he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.

“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”

-

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #cw daddy kink #suns #gushing myself #q

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt

Request from here

***

Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.

Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.

Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.

A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.

God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.

Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.

With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.

The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.

As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.

Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.

In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.

And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...

There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."

You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.

"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."

Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.

"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.

"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."

Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.

"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.

"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."

You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."

"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.

Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.

If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.

His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.

"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.

His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simin ghost riley #simon smut #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost cod smut

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

thinkin about polite gaz being... not so polite when he realizes you're attracted to him. 

not like you let it slip on purpose. he only catches on because he's teasing you and flirting with you and he gets playfully physical and pins you against a wall. he does not miss the way your breath catches in your throat or the way you flush. bit submissive, aren't you?

his attitude changes instantly. he bets you he could keep you pinned right there. hell, he bets he could pick you up, toss you over his shoulder if he wanted to. when you ask him (a bit too breathlessly) if he'd really do that, he smirks at you and says there are plenty of reasons he might have to pick you up. makes it easier to show you who's boss, yeah?

your face gets so hot you think you might actually pass out. you fucking bottom.

he leans in, getting closer this time so you can't shy away; you have no choice but to hear him clearly. "you think you could handle being thrown around?"

if it killed you, you would die happy.

"how about i just throw you into bed instead?"

please, you squeak out.

his eyes gleam and he chuckles. "say please again and it'll be the floor."

nsfw ↓

he's not kidding about being able to pick you up either. or throw you. the moment he has a chance, he's definitely getting you into bed. and he's definitely enjoying how you squirm.

can i ask a favor of you? he asks, so politely, like he's not literally on top of you, pinning you down.

literally anything. you would do literally anything he asks.

"say please again. for me."

you stutter.

"you asked quite nicely for me to throw you. so if i ask, would you beg nicely for me to do other things?"

oh god. oh god. you're glad you're laying down, because you're sure your knees would give out if you were standing up.

when your brain reboots, you stumble over yourself to say yes, absolutely, please kiss me, please tear my clothes off, please hold me down and have your way with me--

god, he really likes that look on your face. he is really going to enjoy you. 

"you really are an excitable little thing, aren't you?" he says, smirk widening as his hand traces along your hip.

is that bad? you ask him.

"it's really hot. almost makes me feel bad for everything i want to do to you."

no, please, don't feel bad, you tell him. you immediately shift, trying to press yourself up against his body. you want him to use you for everything he wants. everything.

"so eager. can't wait, can you?"

no, you can't. you'll die if you have to wait. you try and fail to reign yourself in and be so fucking needy. you fumble with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, impatient and frustrated. he just smirks at you, letting you get yourself all worked up. just leans back and watches you, enjoying the sight.

when your mind catches up with what your hands are doing, you stall out on the last button. then, finally, he gives in and reaches forward to unhook it himself. then he yanks the whole shirt out of the way.

"good girl. god, you're cute when you're so red like that. you're really into this, aren't you?" his voice is sultry as his caress moves down to the button on your jeans. really just takes his damn time, enjoying how the slower he goes, the more desperate for him you get. but the way your hips twitch when he lays his hands on them has him fighting demons.

"that's it. keep moving. keep squirming." his voice is low and slow--he's trying to keep himself under control as much as you are. he wants so badly to grab your hips and just fucking rail you into the mattress, but it's more rewarding to be patient. how's he going to hear more of those sounds, see more of your desperate ploys to get under him, if it's all over right away?

obviously you have no such reservation. the moment he has your jeans unbuttoned, you're wiggling out of them and flipping onto your stomach, pushing your ass up in the air and fucking presenting yourself to him. please, you beg him, losing your goddamn mind, you can't take it anymore. can't he just...?

gaz damn near short-circuits at the image of you with your ass in the air. he barely manages to stop himself and weigh whether he should deny you a little bit more to heighten the anticipation.

fuck it. he can torment you more after he's inside you. multitasking.

you squeak in delight when he plants his hands between your shoulder blades and pushes your top half into the mattress, dragging your hips up toward his. he pushes you down, fitting his body over yours and putting his mouth next to your ear. he whispers right in your ear. "say please again."

please, please, please, you'll do anything, you tell him, wiggling your hips at him.

and he plans to take you up on that offer.

he leans in close, his breath warm on your skin. "good girl, he tells you. obedient girl."

you've never wanted to be under someone so badly.

your easy submission has him grinning. "are you a good girl all the time or just for me?"

for you, you mumble, hot with shame.

he pulls himself back even more and puts a knee on each side of you, pushing your legs apart. it gives you a shot of dopamine so intense you almost can't keep your ass up. 

"are you being good right now?"

you could be better for him, you tell him, so much better.

he likes the sound of that. it's getting hard to think, having your legs open and right there and he's trying to hold himself back but who wouldn't fall for the temptation he's experiencing right now? "how much better?"

you tell him you could please him more if you knew what he liked, if you could focus on him, if you didn't need more right now, if you didn't need him inside you so bad. your hips twitch again as you ramble, almost mindless.

"i like it when you speak so earnestly," he tells you.

that approval sends another shot of dopamine through you, and your hips buck against nothing. he hasn't even touched you there and you feel like you could finish any moment just from his voice. you're gonna die if you can't have him right now.

he's breathing heavier now, eyes fixed on your opening. his voice almost wavers, heavy with implication. "how bad do you need me, darling?" 

you start to dissolve into begging again--god dammit, he said he wanted you to beg and he's not even doing what you want, what you're begging for--and he interrupts. "you're going to ask properly first."

of course he's gonna make you fucking say it.

you beg and plead in every way you know how, promising every debased act you can think of. when his fingers finally press up against your heat--a teasingly light brush at first, and then a firm press--you dissolve into a mess of broken cries and pleas for him to keep going.

obviously he keeps talking to you in that low, sultry voice, telling you what an impatient little thing you are. chastising you. just another way to flex a little more power over you, and you're so weak for it. and then for that, he praises you.

"such a good girl," he tells you. "you want more?"

you open your mouth to say yes, you want everything, but then he presses his fingers in just the slightest bit, fingertips splitting you the slightest bit, and all you can do is keen. you rock your hips back into him desperately, sliding his fingers into you, and something in you snaps. you tip over the edge. oxytocin floods through you, your legs lock up, and shameless sounds fall from your lips. gaz's breath catches as you finish. then he grins.

gaz pulls you up to him fully and lies down above you. kisses you on the mouth and then trails his mouth down your jaw to your ear. "that was perfect," he says, breathless, and unashamedly horny about the fact that you just came on the second knuckles of two fingers.

you stare at him in muted shock yourself. you can't believe you just... you really just came like that? what's wrong with you?

"how about this," he says in a low, smooth voice. "since you were good, why don't you lay back down and let me fuck you properly?" he lifts your legs off the bed and raises your hips toward him. "let me do everything i want to you."

you swallow and nod, not trusting yourself to speak without squeaking.

"good girl." this time there's no hint of teasing. his eyes are hungry. "let your man take care of you."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

#soft dom gaz #snippet #mine #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz Garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x you #gaz smut #gaz x reader smut #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑀𝑦 𝐶𝑎𝑡 𝐼𝑛 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒

A/N: This is definetly not me projecting my love for cats and Regulus. Also, if anyone is interested in documentaries, I recommend you watching "Inside of a cat's mind". It was really interesting, and also a seratonin boost for me.

A/N: I feel like this sucks but I couldn't think of another way to end this, I hope you guys like it!

Prompts used: "I love her so bad" from this, "you are my favourite, you always have been." from this.

"That's downright ridiculous..."

"Oh, come on, Reggie! What better way than this to show your lover your new animagus form?"

Regulus swinged his tail back and forth angrily as he laid on his mattress on his front legs, even rolling his eyes at his dumb friends as they continued to tease him with his brand-new look. It wasn't like he could talk in that form, but he was so goddamn sure that his eyes gave his thoughts away. What started this conversation and the endless teasing from his friends was that Regulus could now transform into his Animagus form.

Which was a black cat. A cute and cuddly one, as Pandora said while scratching his ears as Barty and Evan made fun of him for being soft. He hissed at them loudly, showing his sharp claws as a silent threat as he nuzzled closer to the sweater under his paws, full of your smell and perfume as a little happy smile found his face, watching Pandora who had been petting him as she chastised the other two in the room.

But it did nothing to help.

Since when it did anyways? Nothing could stop those idiots...

Barty and Evan let out a bark as they rolled on their bed, Barty crouching down with his hands on his knees in front of Pandora who had been sitting down on the ground, shaking her head for him not to do anything that would anger Regulus.

But, as usual, Barty didn't care, and dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye as he offered his forefinger to Regulus, who had been eyeing him with bored eyes and an evil plan, wondering if it was obvious on his cat face as he imagined the delight he would feel.

"Awww, look at our little Reggie! So angry and deadly, with his little claws and teeth~ You are so soft now, so cuddly that I can just-AHHH!"

But of course, Regulus' personality didn't change just because he turned into a cat and since everyone practically knew not to call him that name... Well, except for his lovely lover you, and Barty still did it...

It was only fair for him to bite his finger and claw at his face.

"And that's what happens when you mess with Regulus, Barty. He is still the same friend we have that absolutely hates to be teased and that's what you get..." Pandora sighed out as she rose up, passing by them in the common room as she got out. She didn't care about the screaming behind her, Evan cackling on the ground about "how Barty got bitten by a kitten" while the boy tried to convince him that "it was a literal cheetah that bit him and not a kitten" as if his cooings and awes weren't the reason behind that cat's anger.

Well, he warned him that he didn't like that nickname so he had it coming, right?

Regulus nuzzled deeper into Pandora's arms as the young girl giggled, smiling to herself at seeing her friend happy as he always was whenever he had that special clothing close to him. "Don't worry, Regulus... I know Y/N is in the Great Hall, preparing you food again. So, I'll take you to your precious lover~"

And if his face couldn't show the possible blush on his face and how comedically wide his eyes were, the way he jumped up and kneaded your sweater that he found in his room after stealing it definetly did the job.

His heart beated harder at the thought of seeing you, preparing him a plate with a cute frown and possibly cursing at him for not caring about his health as you made little talk with your friends here and there...

He always knew he was one hell of a lucky guy for finding someone like you. So caring and loving and supporting...

All his life, Regulus never had known love or care. At least not from his mother and her twisted way of showing love and his father's abuse. All he had, for the longest time, was his brother and even then, he never thought he could have more, deserved more.

More of that love and affection he craved.

So, after pinning after you since the firs year, he finally had the courage of asking you out... Even if he didn't want to think back to that day because of the high stuttering of his, a sign of how nervous he was and how important you were to him.

Because that mother and father of his might have failed at showing what true love means, he had plenty of times to secretly read all about romantic books and witness it with his own mind and heart. He often thought that they weren't real, that the author went overboard with all the struggles and fights the main characters went through for the love they shared with each other, strong enough to stand against every strong wind, army or even death.

He questioned whether love was worth it all, when he wanted something serene and comforting. He was done with all the fights anyways, he didn't want any of those any more.

He deserved that at least, right?

But soon, he realized that not everyone is like his parents. Not every relationship is disasterous with the fights and disagreements... They are what makes it stronger and more powerful, with every hardship that comes.

He learnt that without those waves and little obstacles in the way, the comforting relationship and tender love he desperately needed would never be his.

So, he gulped down his worries and confessed his love to you, in one of the many times that you two hung out in the Astronomy Tower. By that time, you were already aware of his feelings by the way he was so soft with you and actually seeked to spend more time with you throughout your days together.

Besides, you were sure Regulus didn't spend his time taking girls to watch stars as he rambled about each of them while subconsciously holding your hand.

But then... Another problem arose: Showing his affections, a basic need of a relationship in his eyes.

Because, as any sane person could tell, Regulus didn't have the healthiest of relationship with his parents even though he knew what they... had between each other was far from love. He knew he would never dare, and rather kill himself, to do any of the things they did to each other to you. He knew he wanted to hold you, kiss you, openly show his love, the way his eyes shone brighter at the sight of you as you skipped to him was enough of a sign...

But he knew he wouldn't be able to bear all the teasing his friends and his brother, with whom he recently fixed his relationship, would do.

And he hated himself for thinking like that, doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do when you didn't deserve it at all. He didn't want you to think that he was ashamed of you, which you never did and gold him that it was fine he didn't declare his love out all the time like a certain older brother of his and knew he loved you through his actions...

But it wasn't enough for him, it wasn't enough for the voices in his mind to stop.

You deserved a man who wouldn't shy away, who didn't have severe issues with himself. Someone who wasn't the item of a fucked up ideology... Someone who would be proud and confident in both himself and you, slinging an arm around you while walking and give you anything you asked for.

Perhaps a free future... Away, in a cottage with some animals...

But he was a selfish man who wanted to be that person, to be the reason of your smile and happiness every day. He just... had to find a way to show all of these thoughts and feelings.

But he was bad at it... So, why not get the help of a cute animal to see what you exactly like? And show his feelings?

"I swear to Merlin, I will strangle that boy when I see him! He disappears all the time, without eating! Who does he think he is?" You angrily turned to your friend who was eating her fries as she stopped her hand mid-air and looked at you with her eyes and mouth wide open. "What? Who?"

"Regulus, of course! That boy will give me a heart attack at one point, the other day I found him literally choking Barty because of that nickname again!" You angrily scoffed as you dumped more food like an angry mother, but your friend only laughed because of the twitch of your lips upwards.

"Yeah, but you love him and his special treatment, no?" She wiggled her brows as she continued to eat and you sighed out in bliss, a loving and stupid smile plastering on your face.

And yes, yes you loved him and his stupid grin whenever he teased you and his sweet smile as he watched you do your own thing.

But it wasn't enough of a reason to not to scold him when you see him as soon as possible.

"Maybe. And yes, I very much so am in love with him but I'll strangle him anyways... He promised to not pick up fights and take care of himself better- Oh, hi Pandora!"

You turned fast to where the bubbly girl was coming to your way, excitedly waving at her when your eyes landed on... the cutest ball of sunshine on her arms.

"Hi, Y/N! I see that you are... agitated?" She snorted to herself as she saw how you changed your mood at the sight of the cat between her arms as you nodded absentmindedly to her, waving off her question while scratching the little cat's chin with a stupid smile on your face. It was a known fact around the school how weak you were to them, and also your boyfriend.

With you both being smitten with each other, y'know?

Unknown to you though, that cat was the boy you loved, and he was soaking all the love in like a sponge. He was grinning from ear to ear, as much as a cat would be able to do, and he jumped down from where he was seated between Pandora's arms and flunged himself up towards your legs, pawing at them to make you cuddle him.

Patheatic, his inner voice said but he answered with I love her so bad....

"Well, it seems that our friend loves you very much!" She wiggled her brows playfully as you giggled, not aware of the daggers the cat, Regulus, was giving to your dear friend. Pandora didn't care though, she knew he never meant any of those stares and besides, that was exactly the moment for her to leave him with you so that he could get his head out of his arse and see how much you loved him and didn't care if he showed his love around people or not.

Because, by the state he was in, he didn't know shit about the extend of your love for him.

"Then, I will leave you with him! Don't worry he is very docile and easygoing, I'm sure you two will get along well! Goodbye!"

"Wait, Pandora- Wow, she left so soon..." you mumbled in thought as you looked down at the cat still pawing at your legs with wide blue eyes, his pupils almost so big that his eyes couldn't be seen as he meowed softly to you.

"Aww, don't worry I won't leave you! But I was going to visit my careless boyfriend who forgot to eat, again..." you kneeled on the ground with a playful scowl as you took him between your arms, cooing at the loud purr he let out as he nuzzled deeper in you. "I think he will like you too, what do you say? Hmm?"

Yeah, love, considering the fact that it's me... I think I will like myself enough...

Throughout the walk to your boyfriend's dorm, you kept the same big smile on your face as you kept looking down at the cat and squeezed his cheeks with your fingers. Cuteness agression is really something, you thought as he looked around the familiar sight of the door to his house's common room. He started to whine and get angsty a little bit, not wanting this "cuddle session" to come to an end.

"Don't worry, little one! I'm not leaving, I will sit here until Reg comes back and probably beg him to let me have you all to myself..."

He meowed in response, wincing under his breath at how this was the only way to communicate with you. Love, you already has that cat to yourself...

You smiled softly as the cat sniffed Regulus' bed and jumped on it, circling around himself until he found a good position and stared at you expectantly. You smiled back at the cat and turned your back to him to set the food down on his desk. Suddenly staring at the dark sky outside and seeing how long has it been that you last saw Regulus, you sighed sadly, wondering when he will be back and whether you should get out of his dorm before his friends arrived or not.

Sensing your sudden sadness, Regulus immediately jumped up and meowed at you hurriedly. Even as a cat, he was weak for your sadness and immediately alerted.

"Hmm? Oh nothing, little guy... Just wondering when my boyfriend will come and finally start to take care of himself." You laughed when he hissed softly and almost seemed like he was pointing at the bed. "You want me to lay down?"

A barely-there nod.

"Okay... I think I can use some rest. Scoot over..." you shuffled on the bed as its silky feeling engulfed you, resulting with you letting out a relieved sigh as the cat purred happily over your chest. You trailed a soft finger down his spine and up towards his face, your hand patting him while holding him as if he was a baby.

And he freaking loved it, loved the feeling of safety of your arms.

And obviously, when cats were happy, they purred loudly.

"Hmm? Oh, you like me? I like you too, little guy! You're so cute and so elegant with your black fur and shiny, blue eyes." Regulus purred even more loudly as he nestled on your chest, bumping his head to your chin, and neck as a way of marking you. You giggled at the cat, actually your possessive boyfriend, and continued to play with the playful cat as he made several cute moves with his body and eyes.

His behaviour surprised you, since you thought black cats were mostly grumpy and "I show affection ONLY when I want to, human." kind of animals. But this one....

This one didn't even leave your side for the whole day and instead laid on your lap, purring at every chance he had. Somewhere in a muggle book, you remembered reading that a cat's purring often touches the paternal part in one's brain and that's why humans care for them a lot.

Which was goddamn right, even if it was the same frequency of a baby crying. But though a baby's cry was often irritating with its high pitch, a cat's purr was comforting.

Another reason to convince Regulus to adopt kittens for when you left the school, and settled in an apartment as soon as possible.

"And you remind me of someone I reaaally love, y'know? I'm sure he would like to have you... Don't tell him this, but you are now my favourite thing in the world!"

Wait... Wait, wait, wait! What? That was so offensive! A cat, who you knew for a few hours, took your favourite place?!

"Meowwww!"

Nope, he couldn't let it happen! The plan wasn't even this!

"Hmm? What's wrong, did I say something bad?" You wondered as the cat you adored suddenly turned pissy, throwing what you assumed as "cat tantrums" after whatever you said that triggered him. Regulus, though, started to pace around the bed nervously. You tilted your head in confusion as the cat he jumped up and tugged on your robes to make you get up.

Yeah, cats definetly have God-complex...

"Okay, okay, fine! I'm up, I seriously don't know what... is... wrong..." your jaw hung open with your eyes wide when the black cat you adored and showed immense love to was... None other than your boyfriend.

"Regulus?"

"Hi, love..." he shyly looked at you as his hand caressed his face tiredly, tugging on the skin as he grumbled at the stinging pain on his back while trying to relieve himself from the pain. "Damn it, my spine hurts..."

"What... I don't understand, you have been the cat?! All this time?" You pointed to him with your hands in surprise, still not believing that the cat was your boyfriend who apparently learnt to become an animagus.

"Yeah, I was the cat..."

"But... why? Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you for achieving becoming an animagus," he smiled softly at how you didn't miss the opportunity of praising him for his accomplishment, and he couldn't help but wonder at how easy it was for you to see past the fact that he hid something from you. He expected you to be angry for hiding it, but you were just... confused?

Why?

"But why did you hide it? I mean, it's a pretty big deal and your cat form was so beatiful with your little paws, soft fur and big eyes- I'm starting to loose the point of the talk, so please... explain."

He laughed when you finished your rant with a blushing face, looking at him with a flustered face as you waited. He knew you wouldn't judge, Merlin knew you never did, so he sat down on his bed and patted the area next to him.

"Because... I didn't know what else to do to show you." You continued to look at him confused for a second, occasionally side eyeing the room as if a clue would suddenly appear and lighten whatever that was going on right now.

"Well, it's only logical to show me rather than throwing random bottles on the ground... But I think you don't mean you, being a liquid-"

"Cats are not liquid, love..." Regulus sighed lovingly as you knitted your brows and playfully shook your head before laying a kiss on his cheek. "No, they are! They fit into anything possible even an asymetrical glass box!"

"When did you see a cat do that?"

"My sibling's cat... Though it could be because it is weird..."

He laughed as you seriously started to wonder whether what you said about the cat was true or not, and pulled you to himself by your shoulders. He was grateful you changed the subject after noticing he was slightly uncomfortable but...

He had to be honest after spending the whole day with you, and seeing what Pandora said about you and how much stronger your love was for him.

Because he finally knew, he didn't have to be a cat spy to show you his love.

"As much as my heart feels like it could explode with love from you noticing I was uncomfortable and tried to change the subject," you smiled bashfully as you blinked your eyes at him, not stopping him. He sighed once before keep going. " I did it to show you... how much I love you and show my affection in the only way I knew."

You would have cut him in the middle but by the slight wavering of his voice, you knew that it was something he had to get off of himself... That this conversation was important for him in every way possible.

So you listened... And with every word passing his lips, your eyes softened for the fragile and soft-hearted boy next to you.

"I never knew love, I never knew how to love and show it freely. Mom and dad saw it as a weakness, others saw it as some inconvenience... Sirius was the only one I have, and even then, he was the one expressing his feelings freely. Not me. I always did it silently... Taking care of Sirius' injuries after mother punished him or dad beat him. I did it by stealing his favourites from the kitchen or learning how to make them when my parents weren't home...."

A deep sigh, one that told many unsaid stories and feelings.

" Then I showed it with taking notes for my friends when they weren't able to attend classes. I showed it by taking care of their many injuries that definetly weren’t a result of training but rather... abuse. Merlin knows, I know those kind of bruises like the back of my hand. Then... But then, you came along with your shining eyes and wide smile, asking if you could sit with me in the train and suddenly... I-I wanted to be more. For you. I wanted to be enough of a man to deserve your love and show it to the whole world. Like my brother who openly hugged people, and kissed their cheeks or nuzzled to them... But soon, I was reminded that I would always be his shadow."

Silence scretchted between you as you continued looking at him, not being sure what to do now that he suddenly opened up about why he was avoiding you. You definetly didn't think your night would end up like this, even if him opening up to you was everything you wanted, but you would never be able to know that feeling.

Feeling like someone's shadow, having to endure what Regulus endured... Something he was grateful that never happened and would never happen now that you were with him.

You wouldn’t understand any of it, but you could be there for him now that he wouldn't be alone.

"You once asked me... 'Do you ever hide who you trully are?' at the side of the Black Lake in one of our nightly dates. I kept my silence then, didn't want to scare you off with my strong feelings since it was still too early but not for me who loved you for 2 year prior to that night, but... I never did, not with you, never with you. But... I never felt enough for you. I mean... How could someone as amazing as you would deserve the love of some coward? Someone who feared showing love?" He almost spitted the word "fear" as he shook his head in near disbelief at himself and how "ridiculous" he sounded, and you hated how much self-loathing he had and how easy it was for him to point that hatred to himself.

You had to change it, maybe not immediately but definetly in time.

"Regulus..." you softly rubbed his hand softly to make him look at you, and when he turned his head towards you... You saw the tears pooling in his ocean eyes. Your heart dropped to your stomach harshly as you gulped and brought his forehead down to meet yours. A silent move to convey your feelings to him.

"How could you not be enough of something you already have, from the very beginning?" You rubbed his cheek softly, bringing his face closer to yours as you kissed his eye-lids. As if you were scared to hurt him even more, when what all the world had been doing to him was hurting him.

Regulus shuddered as a shaky breath left him, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of your words. He lifted his eyes, looked into your own that showed only one thing and only for him: Love.

"You are enough, even if you don't think so and I love you, I loved you from the beginning." A gasp left him as his hands thightened their hold on yours nervously. You laughed awkwardly. " You don't have to say it immediately but... Please, don't be so harsh on yourself. It's okay to not want to do PDA, I already told you.... All I care is your happiness, that's it."

And with that, Regulus threw himself all over you from the immense feeling he was feeling at that moment, hugging you with all his might as you returned to gesture just as fiercely. After all, it had been a long day and you missed your boyfriend, the one that would speak about Quidditch nonstop all the while letting you sleep on him as his hands caressed your hair and rubbed your back softly.

Just like now, with the adding of inhaling the scent of your hair deeply which made your heart race sweetly.

And now that the stress of him was now over and you knew what was going on...

It was time to tease him back.

"Did you just get jealous of a cat enough to come clean to me?" You mumbled from your position where your face was buried in his neck, the tingles making him giggle as a groan left him at feeling your smile on his skin.

"Love, please!"

"What? You are the one who was jealous!" You giggled playfully, but your enjoyment was soon cut when Regulus threw himself on his bed with his arms still wrapped around you. You landed harsher on his chest than you imagined and you were worried you accidently crushed him but his sigh of contentment and the way he nuzzled to your neck showed that he was far from being bad.

"I can't believe you now have a nuzzling habit, are you going to knead at me too?" You hit his chest softly when his eyes shot open and an evil smirk found his face.

Oh, that's not something good...

"I already did it earlier when I laid on your chest- Oww!"

"Regulus Arcturus Black, when did you have a foul mouth!" You hit him with his pillow as he laughed hard and ended up on the floor while trying to stop you.

"What can I say, love. I have the most gorgeous lover of all Hogwarts!"

That little shit and his sweet tongue, knowing how to get himself out of any problem...

"Okay, you got out of trouble for now... You are my favourite by the way, you always have been, in case your childish self got jealous of a cat..." you grumbled out when his head landed on your thighs and looked up at you innocently.

"That cat was still me though..." he looked at you through his lashes as you giggled, relishing on your words and how they made warmth spread all around his whole body.

"Yeah, yeah, sure... There is something I have to show you though. I was planning for a few days now. Promise to not get sad?" He nodded without knowing and guessing what was happening...

But the only thought that crossed Regulus' mind, when he saw you changing into a pure white cat, was I love her.

As you swinged your tail around Regulus' waiting hand and nuzzled to him, he smiled softly and scratched your head softly while patting your ears. His heart felt so full of love and he didn't remember any other day he felt this much happiness.

"You are... most certaintly the most beautiful yet also annoying person I know. Being a white cat Animagus, completely contrasting me but also creating something so beautiful? Did you think I will let go of you easily after this?"

You tilted your head teasingly and let out a purr before changing back into your human form with your feet dangling off of the bed like a little kid as you threw your head back towards him to look at his raised brows while he tried to surpass the smirk that threatened to take over his face.

"Yeah, I know... But you love me, no?" You cutely smiled as you nuzzled closer to his chest, and unknown to you, he smiled to himself like a fool as he wrapped his arms all around your body thightly when your body reached where he was now sitting on the bed.

Oh Merlin, he already does love everything about you.

"Can we... cuddle like that? As cats? It could be our new bonding activity!"

"I can't believe... Okay, fine. Don't try anything funny though."

"Like what?"

"Like the meaning of that wiggly eye-brows!"

But since you both were weak for each other, you two soon dozed off like that, one white and black cat tangled together peacefully as their hearts beated the same beat.

Not knowing that the next day, Barty would startle everyone awake and embrass you while yelling "Our Reggie found another chich, cat, kitten, whatever! He is cheating on our sweet Y/N!"

#regulus black x you #regulus x y/n #regulus x reader #regulus black #regulus imagine #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #SUMMER CELEBRATION🏖

[strang3lov3]

Jet Stream

Joel has his fun with you after learning his shower head has a jet stream setting.

Part two of my miniseries for @noxturnalpascal Can be read as standalone but check out the first part Lather ! Thank you @merz-8 @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi for all their brainstorming on this fic!

tags-soft dom!joel, maybe not so soft dom! joel, overstimulation station, pet name (good girl, sweetheart, honey, darling) crying, fingering, multiple orgasms both clitoral and vaginal, smoochin’, praise, blowjobs, snuggles

notes- thank you for your patience with me! Hope you’re all having a lovely start to your February, please harass me and spank me to get part 3 and my Valentine’s Day one shot out by next week ❤️💖

Kindly edited by @papipascalispunk ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

Joel wakes up early, even on Saturdays. Taking advantage of the little pleasures in life, he watches squirrels and chipmunks run up and down the trees in his backyard, listening to the birds chirp while the sun rises. When the sun rises, he’ll take his morning shower and sigh in relaxation under the hot water. Let it wash over him for a little too long before he scrubs his body. 

But not this Saturday. Today, that steady pelting of water on his back and chest feels like a trickle compared to what it’s usually like. Joel’s been noticing this for a while, maybe you have too. He stands in the shower, annoyed at the glacial pace of the suds sliding off his body. After what feels like an eternity passes, he shuts off the water and examines the shower head closely. Yeah, that’ll do it, he thinks. Limescale. It’s built up around the shower head, into all the grooves. This commonly happens when hard water runs through a house. It’s an easy fix. 

Joel unscrews the shower head from its fixture then dries off. He goes downstairs and grabs a bucket and a jug of vinegar from his cleaning supply closet. He soaks the shower head in the vinegar-filled bucket for about an hour before taking the shower head out, using an old toothbrush to scrub the grooves and holes in the shower head. Joel hears a creak upstairs and quickens his scrubbing, he doesn’t need you coming downstairs and scolding him for over-exerting himself. Yeah, yeah – he should be asking you for your help and all that, but you’re too pretty for a chore like this, he thinks. Besides, his shoulder is getting better. Not quite as tender as it was a week ago. As Joel wraps up the finishing touches of cleaning the shower head, he notices some etched words that were previously covered by the limescale – Rain, Shower, Jet Stream.

Well, would ya look at that. A mischievous grin forms on Joel’s lips. His brain has been fucking addled thinking about you. You, and the way you came on your own fingers, whimpering his name. How after, you pushed your fingers past his lips, how sweet your arousal tasted on his tongue. How he’s been yearning to touch you, fuck you, but his stupid goddamn shoulder is still hurting. Hurting, but healing nonetheless. God, is he addled. But now, with this nifty little jet stream setting, he can have you melting in his hands in no time. It can do all the work for him, leaving his shoulder unharmed and without disruption to its healing process. He wonders, how many times will he make you come?

–

The day goes by as normal. It’s evening, Ellie’s not home. You’re on the couch with Joel after eating pasta for dinner. You’re knitting a blanket using mismatched yarn, just trying to find some use for the odds and ends. Joel’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch and bouncing his leg, twiddling his fingers. He looks bored, anxious. Seinfeld is on TV, Joel loves this show. He rented the series DVDs from the library in Jackson and claimed to have scratched them when they were past due. “Joel, quit,” you scold him. He’s bouncing the couch. 

“My bad,” Joel says. You can feel him staring at you. He’s touching his hair. You turn your face to look at him, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Joel wears an anticipatory look, but stays quiet. You turn your attention back to the TV and he’s now combing his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. “Hmmm…” he hums, “What’s a guy to do…”

You drop your knitting needles in your lap. “What, Joel?”

“Oh, nothin’,” he says. Joel kind of just gestures to his hair and shrugs, like you’re supposed to know what he’s asking for. You do, of course, but he can use his words. “Ahem,” Joel clears his throat, now twirling a finger around one of his curls cheekily, making a real big show out of it. He’s smiling now.  

“Do you need me to wash your hair again, Joel?”

“If you’d be so kind, darlin’,” he grins. 

You finish the row you’re currently knitting before wrapping up your work and putting it into a basket and under the end table next to the couch. After pausing the TV, you stand up and Joel outstretches his left hand to you, which you take in your own. He groans loudly as you pull him to his feet where he stands in front of you. There’s something about him today. When you washed his hair last week, he was bashful and awkward. Today, he’s confident with his sly grin, that teasing look in his eye like he’s working an angle. Maybe he’s just excited for another shower blow job, which you’ll happily provide again. You smile too, he’ll be 0 for 2. 

When you and Joel arrive at the bathroom, he locks the door just like last time. He’s unbuttoning his jeans, not bothering to hide the bulge in his boxers. You don’t bother with the formalities of your partnered shower as you and Joel undress yourselves. It’s unnecessary at this point, after the fortuitous, amatory events of your last one. Joel notices your smirk before he turns on the hot water. He can tell you think you’re gonna pull one over on him again. That’s fine, you can believe whatever you’d like.

Joel opens the shower curtain. “After you,” he purrs, offering his hand to you as you step into the tub. You stand underneath the stream of water, wetting your hair and letting the hot water warm your skin. It feels stronger today for some reason. “Pressure’s different,” you tell Joel. 

“Is it now?” Joel asks, feigning ignorance as he joins you in the tub, cock already half mast. You step closer to him, reaching for it, feeling him grow harder in your hand. Massaging his cock, tracing your fingertips around his thick head and along the veins of his shaft, you bite down on your smile. “Yeah, that’s nice, trouble,” he sighs in pleasure, “Aren’t you something?” 

“Feel good, Joel?” you murmur. 

“Mhm,” Joel hums, “Feels just wonderful, sweetheart. You’re too good t’me.” 

Shampoo and conditioner can wait. You take the time to massage his cock a while longer as you wrap your free hand around Joel’s neck, toying with the curls at the back of his head. They’re not quite wet yet as you’ve been hogging all the hot water, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He lets you stroke his member as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to kiss you softly. As you deepen the kiss, gently biting his plump bottom lip, Joel pulls away, removing your hand from his member.

“You done yet?” he asks you. 

You’re almost offended. Asshole. You were enjoying that kiss. “Not quite,” you reply, leaning forward to kiss him, touch him some more. 

Joel pulls away from you as he blocks your hand. He grips your wrist  and holds it behind your back as he spins you around, your back now facing him. “Well you’re gonna have to be,” he says. “The lady’s ’sposed to come first. That’s how we’re doing things from now on.”

“Yeah, right Joel. You can’t touch me, your shoulder is still fucked up.” you squirm away from him, but he keeps his hold on you. Gentle, firm. 

“Worry about yourself,” he warns in a tone much less teasing than before. He winces as he uses his bad arm to reach for the shower head, “Y’think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“I…” you trail off as he hovers the shower head above your torso, peering over your shoulder as he watches the water fall down your curves. He hums softly as he focuses the stream over your breasts, feeling you begin to twitch as the water teases your nipples. 

“My shoulder is healing, actually. But yeah, it is still a little fucked up,” Joel continues, “Don’t need to touch ya anyhow.”

Ohh, you’re getting it now. Joel thinks he cracked the code. “I appreciate the thought, Joel,” you chuckle. “But if you’re planning on using the shower head to make me come, just go ahead and put it back where it belongs. I’ve tried that already.”

“Figures,” he teases. “You wanna know somethin’?”

“What’s that, Joel?”

“Water pressure on this thing sucked lately, so I was cleanin’ this thing out this morning,” he begins. He keeps your arm behind your back as he sits both you and himself down on the shower bench, keeping your back pressed firmly against his torso. “Does this hurt?” he whispers before continuing. You shake your head no. “Good,” Joel says. “Anyway, wouldn’t ya know it, there’s a jet stream setting on this thing.” Joel nudges a foot between your legs and taps you. “Open ‘em. You stay like this for me.”

He’s speaking with such authority, such a commanding tone. You’re almost nervous. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice last week just how severely you pissed him off with the way you touched yourself in front of him, knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. How you further taunted him when you pushed your fingers past his lips, dangling the premise of tasting your sweet cunt over his head. You should have known he’d retaliate.

“Was not a fan of how you got yourself off without me, pretty rudely, might I add. Told you I wanted to help, you fuckin’ deviant.”

Yup, you’re correct. He’s still fucking pissed. He did a good job keeping a lid on it until now. “Joel,” you breathe. 

“So yes, you’re right. I can’t touch ya yet,” he continues in a low voice, “S’why we’re gonna see what this does to ya, sweetheart.”

Joel keeps the shower head on the rain setting for this part. With his free hand, he cups the back of your knee and has you set your foot on the bench where you and Joel sit. This way, you’re nice and open for him to do as he pleases. He brings the shower head lower, hovering it over your torso, down your tummy, then your pussy. It’s a nice sensation, warm and gentle. When you lean your head back on his shoulder and sigh softly, he ups the ante. Momentarily, he futzes with the showerhead and switches it to the jet stream setting before bringing it back to your center. He starts the stream at your inner thighs first, working his way inward until the stream is massaging your lips, first one side and then the other. Slowly, he twists his wrist, getting your pussy used to the new sensation. He can’t see much from this angle, can’t feel anything either. He’s waiting for you to jolt and moan to know when he’s struck gold. “Shhh…” Joel quiets you when you do just that. “Oh yeah, this’ll do just fine, hm?”

Fuck, it’s intense. It’s very intense, almost too much. “Joel, fuck,” you cry. You should not have fucked with him. 

“Just relax,” he instructs, “You’ll get used to it.” But you’re not getting used to it, not even close. It’s a powerful, nearly electric sort of feeling that takes you wholly as you jerk and stutter in his hold. “Mm-mm, you stay here. Quit your squirmin’.”

“S’too much Joel,” you whine. 

“S’kinda the point,” he mumbles, “But you’re doin’ good, sweetheart. Jus’ let it happen.”

Joel rotates his wrist, directing the stream of water in tight, steady circles on your clit. The striking, uncomfortable and intense feeling is beginning to dissipate as your pleasure begins to build. Joel’s hot breath is on your neck, his torso rising and falling steadily. You can feel his warm, stiff package pressing against your lower back. “Joel, it feels so good,” you breathe. “Please don’t stop.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t dream of that,” he replies.  The movement of Joel’s wrists never falters, though he knows it’ll be sore in the morning. You move your hips in tune with his movement, eyes squeezed shut and moaning quietly, your open mouth pressed against his neck. He wonders if maybe you haven’t quite realized the circumstance you’re in, what he plans to do to you. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he mumbles, wearing a smug grin.

Joel lets go of his hold on your leg to touch your breasts with his free hand, kneading your flesh. When he teases your nipples, the sensation of it all is heightened. Within moments, you’ve reached your peak. It’s intense and the feeling lasts long as Joel, with the help of the shower head, helps you ride out your high. Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath as he points the shower head at the floor, letting you relax against him. After a minute passes, you try to lean forward to get up, but Joel stops you by wrapping his strong arm around your torso and keeping you pressed tightly against him. “Ohh, you’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not done yet,” he coos as he kisses your cheek, your temple. 

“I know, but it’s your turn.”

“Oh, not quite. We’re way past turns and bein’ square and even and all that,” he says. “Yeah, that went out the door with that little stunt you pulled on me last week. So let me spell it out for you, darlin’, I am not finished with you.”

“Joel, what are you–” Joel cuts you off by bringing the shower head back to your pussy. Reaching out for something, anything, your hand finds purchase in his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as you tug gently. “Joel, fuck,” you pant. 

“Not goin’ easy on ya,” he warns. “S’that alright?” Your heart swells. Always the gentleman, Joel is. You nod against his cheek. “Then you stay just like this for me,” he instructs, whispering quietly against the shell of your ear, “Just like this. That’s all ya gotta do, s’real easy.” He tells you this like he’s giving you a choice, but subtly, he places his hand his back on your knee, keeping your cunt exposed to him for his use. Then Joel, realizing he has a better idea, gently pushes your leg off the bench. Potentially against his better judgment, he takes your own free hand and places it on your knee. “Be a good girl,” he murmurs, trusting you with this privilege perhaps too early in tonight’s endeavor. But he knows you, you’ve always been all bark and no bite – he’s not worried about you. Not a bit. 

“I’ll be good, Joel,” you whimper, eager to make this easier on yourself. You’ve never felt a sensation this intense before, and you know to tread carefully with Joel. Especially given what led you to this mess you’re in with him. 

Joel smirks, he’s right as always. Already you’re so docile, so well-behaved, so pliant. 

He finds your clit with the fingers of his left hand to help him with the shower head in his right hand. After finding that sweet little bundle of nerves with the jet stream, Joel traces along your lips momentarily before pushing a finger inside your warm, wet pussy. “Joel, oh my god,” your right hand leaves its place in his hair and you reach for his bicep instead, not exactly sure what your goal is here. You just need Joel’s comfort, to touch him, feel him, hold onto him for dear life as he delivers you deep and powerful pleasure just moments previously unknown to you. 

“I know sweetheart. Can’t do anything about it, huh?” he taunts, pushing in another finger. He curls them slowly, savoring the feeling of your wet heat pulsing around his knuckles. “Y’look very beautiful like this, ya know.” Joel quickens the pace of his fingers. You moan as you beg him for mercy of some sort as he fucks you on his fingers, while torturing your poor, overworked clit with that shower head. It’s sensual, satisfying, and nearly painful all at once. “Doin’ so good. I know you’ve got another one in ya.”

“I don’t know, Joel, I’m– I’m–”

“Take it easy. Focus right here,” he says, curling his fingers faster now. You’re a mess of panting and whimpering as Joel works his magic, stroking that sweet spot inside of you he made short work of finding. You’re soaking his fingers with your arousal as he touches you, a second orgasm washing over you quickly.

You’re panting, heart pounding as you try to come down from your high. “Please,” you breathe heavily, “Please Joel, I– oh–”

“Not quite sure what all that beggin’s for, sweetheart. Told ya what you were in for tonight,” Joel whispers in a honeyed voice. “You got one more, though.”

No way. It’s not possible. This is too much, you’re certain you’ll be satisfied for an eternity after this. “Joel, I don’t think I can,” you cry, hot and salty tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t–”

Joel interrupts you. “Yes, you can,” he says. Joel pulls his fingers and the shower head away from your pussy, giving you another moment to breathe. You’re still breathing heavily, shaking and trembling slightly. Poor thing, not used to all of this. It’s a lot on you and Joel knows this. “I’m right here, I got you,” he coos. He adjusts the way he’s holding you for a moment to look at your face, wipe away your tears. His brow furrows as he searches your face, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your jaw. “Breathe, baby. S’okay. Ain’t gonna break.” 

You nod, stutter out some incoherent response. Joel’s eyes are warm and soft as he calms you, kissing your lips and your nose. 

“What do you think?” he asks, “Reckon you got another one in ya. Just one more, hmm?”

“Okay,” you agree with a small smile. “Okay.” 

“Attagirl,” Joel praises. He brings the showerhead back to the space between your thighs but you catch his wrist, pulling it away from your body before he has the chance to use it on you again. 

“Want your fingers,” you request in a soft voice. “Can you just use your fingers on me?”

Joel nods. “We can try it,” he offers. “Was startin’ to get cold anyway. Why don’t you switch it back to the regular setting and put it back where it belongs?”

You nod and follow suit, playing with the settings before settling on the regular shower feature. You stand up to put the shower head back, letting the water wash over both you and Joel. On your way back to sit with him he holds your hips, steadying your shaky legs. You sit back between his legs, spreading your own. You gasp softly when Joel cautiously brings his right hand to your pussy, starting out with slow, careful circles on your clit. He groans in pain and shakes his head. “Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he answers. “Why don’t you help me out, hm? Use your own hand? Kind of your specialty, ain’t it?” Joel reaches for your hand and then stops suddenly. “Or,” he says, “What if we try something new?”

Oh, man. You’ve experienced a lot of firsts tonight, you’re not sure you can handle another. 

“That poor clit of yours is all worn out huh?” Joel asks. “C’mere. Turn around and face me,” Joel helps you up and then has you straddle his lap, his rock hard cock is between your bodies, the tip all blushed. “I’ve gotten pretty good at doin’ things with my left hand.”

You’re quick to retort. “Except for getting yourself off,” you tease.

“Oh, yeah. Rub it in,” he replies. He snakes his left hand back between your bodies, his middle two fingers pushing inside you. “Was thinkin’ could see how it works out. How’s this feel?” Joel curls his fingers inside of you in a repetitive come hither movement, stroking your g-spot.

“Good,” you tell him. It does feel good, if not a little unfamiliar. 

“Just focus on my fingers,” he instructs. As Joel works his fingers inside of you, you rest your forehead on his own. Breathing steadily, focusing on the feeling it stirs inside of you. It’s a new, different sort of pleasure. “Good girl,” he praises in whispers, “So good for me. You’re almost there.”

You begin to rock your hips into his hand, ignoring the way the hard material of the bench feels on your knees. Your clit is still untouched yet, here you are, that familiar feeling beginning to bloom in your tummy. Nothing’s ever made you feel the way you do right now, here in Joel’s arms. You’re liquid in his hands as your last orgasm begins to build, It’s deeper inside you, a slower build to ecstasy as Joel fucks you on his fingers.Your climax washes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your through your body. “Oh my god, Joel,” You come with gasping breaths and moans for the last time, your fluttering walls choking Joel’s fingers and your arousal pooling in his hand. 

Joel holds you tightly in his arms as you come down from your high for the last time tonight. You’re not sure how much time passes, but when you feel ready, you lift yourself up on your knees and reach for Joel’s cock, guiding him to your entrance. 

“Woah, woah–” Joel stops you. 

“You don’t have to do a thing,” you try. “Just let me–fuck. I need you, need to fuck you.”

“After all that? You still want more?”

“Wanna take care of you,” you plead. You want him so bad, need to feel him, need to be closer to him, you need to watch his face. 

Joel smiles sadly as he shakes his head. “You know I can’t give that to ya,” he strokes your cheek, continuing, “God knows I wanna feel you too, sweetheart. We can’t get ahead of ourselves with my damn shoulder and all that. Just give me a few more days, hon.”

You nod in agreement. He’s right, unfortunately. 

“And then I’m all yours,” Joel reaches for your ass and lifts you up, then sits you back down on the bench after he stands up. He stands in front of you, holding his heavy cock between his thumb and first two fingers, bouncing it slightly. “Stay right there,” he says. “You just sit all pretty-like for me, just like ya always do.” 

Joel reaches for the back of your head and guides you to be closer to him, parting your lips with the tip of his cock. He tastes salty, heady and masculine. You cup his balls and squeeze gently, playing with them for a moment before gripping the base of his dick. Joel pushes into your mouth slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip and his shaft, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks. You love the way he tastes, how he feels, how he jerks his hips slightly when you trail your tongue along an extra sensitive spot of his member. 

“So good,” he praises, “Always so good.” 

Joel maintains eye contact with you as he draws in and out of your mouth, watching you with warm, adoring expression. He loves your eyes, how you watch him as he fucks your mouth. 

Moments go by and Joel’s squeezing his eyes shut, his movements starting to become frenzied. “M’close, hon,” he warns. You reach for his hand with your own and squeeze it a couple of times as if to tell him it’s okay, that he can let go. Joel does just that. He comes with a deep groan, his soft tummy and his chest heaving as he breathes heavily, loudly through his nose. His thick, heavy cock twitches in your mouth as ribbon after ribbon of his hot spend coats your tongue and your throat, which you swallow with pleasure. Joel lets out a strangled sort of noise when you begin to pull your mouth off of him, but first licking his head a couple of times. “Too much, too much,” he warns urgently. Interesting. He can dish it but he can’t take it. But you keep your thoughts about Joel’s overstimulation threshold to yourself. “M’not done with you sweetheart, I promise,” Joel says as he comes down from his high, his breathing now beginning to steady. “Few more days and you’re in trouble.”

Your insides flutter at the prospect, what a welcome threat. You smile as Joel takes your hand and lifts you to your feet, shuts off the shower and reaches for your towel. He helps you to dry off, then dries his own self off before helping you to your feet. Still holding your hand, he takes you to his bedroom and lifts up the covers. You get underneath and Joel tucks you in, walks around to his own side of the bed and joins you. Knowing what you need after all of this, he doesn’t bother asking before pulling you into his side, kissing your cheek and the top of your head. Holding you close and telling you what a good job you did. Making sure you’re okay, asking if you need anything, water, a snack. Whatever. “No,” you tell him before closing your eyes. 

Just as you’re drifting off to sleep, Joel whispers in your ear, “Hon.” 

“What, Joel?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. 

“We forgot to wash my hair.”

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #lather #jet stream

[kennahjune]

HEAR ME OUT?? Please—

I LOVE love LOve when like, in fics, Steve has this really weird talent or interest that nobody knows about or like nobody expects but then oddly enough it sort of fits him.

And just like— it opens up so much possibility for character projection.

My favorite is writer Steve but I’ve been growing increasingly obsessed with Steve who’s hyper fixation is snakes.

The image in my head is like— everyone’s hanging out at the trailer park for one reason or another, and they hear Robin fucking /screech/.

Everyone’s on their feet in a split second, worry and confusion and deep dread forcing the way into the forefront of their minds.

Turns out: it was a snake. A really small one at that.

Eddie and Wayne offer to take it and dispose of it, the two of them having done this various other times with the other snakes people find in the trailer park.

But Steve pushes to the front of the group yelling and scolding.

“No absolutely not!”

Eddie shares a look with Nancy, both chalking it up to Steve’s hero complex acting up and him trying to protect them from the potentially dangerous critter.

“Look, Stevie—“

“You are not going to kill that little sweetheart!”

Eddie paused, shared a confused furrow of brows with Nancy and Robin, and turned to face Steve fully.

“Stevie, baby, that’s a snake.”

Steve stood with his hands on his hips, a determined glint in his eye, and nodded. “No I thought it was a squirrel.”

Eddie sighed loudly. “Then what do we do with it?”

“Well not fucking kill it for starters! It’s harmless. Aren’t you baby?”

Eddie and everyone else watched Steve step up to the snake that was hanging from the trailer’s side door. “Um, Steve what’re you doing?”

Steve ignored them completely and simply plucked the snake from its place on the door. From somewhere beside Eddie Robin squeaked in horror and Will groaned while Lucas gave a violent shudder.

“Such a small baby aren’t ya?” Steve cooed at the little snake wrapped around his hand.

“Steve— that’s a snake,” Nancy said warily, eyeing said snake like it killed her mother. “A potentially dangerous snake.”

Steve scoffed while the snake lifted the front of its body to peer at him. “She’s not dangerous, she’s a goddamn rat snake. They’re harmless.”

Just as he said it, the snake turned its head and not his finger. Where Steve didn’t even blink, everyone else freaked.

Eddie and Robin rushed over to him, Eddie immediately taking a look at his hand but keeping his hands away from the snake. Robin kept her distance but rambled about rabies or whatever.

Steve huffed and laughed quietly. “Guys, seriously. It’s a rat snake, they’re completely and utterly harmless to humans. They have such a small amount of venom it doesn’t bother humans. And besides, this little baby’s so small she couldn’t even break the skin.”

He was right, there was no sign of breakage or even redness on Steve’s hand where he was bitten.

Eddie looked at his boyfriend a little in awe and even more in love.

Jesus Christ.

Dustin and Mike walked slowly over to Steve, each asking to hold the snake.

Steve held it out gently, Dustin taking it first and holding it delicately in his hands. When he passed it over to Mike, the snake wrapped itself around his hands and a bit up his arms. Eddie was a little in shock at the giggle the younger Wheeler let out.

Dustin, Mike and Steve sat on the trailer’s side steps and held the snake together, going back and forth about random animal topics that Eddie couldn’t be bothered to remember.

When he asked later, Will and Lucas were delighted to explain that the entire reason Dustin was allowed to join The Party was because in 4th grade he brought Mike a frog he found. Lucas explained that Mike and Dustin had both gone through and extensive reptile and amphibian phase in elementary school and still held onto some of that obsession.

From then on, whenever anyone in the trailer park found any form of snake or rodent that they wanted gone, they called Steve.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #mike wheeler #eddie munson #will byers #lucas sinclair #snakes #rat snake #character projection #steddie #steddie hcs #steve x eddie #gay eddie munson #little baby snakes 🐍 #bisexual steve harrington

[transmunsons]

Eddie doing a deal with Steve at that picnic table after school. Eddie’s on his second senior year and pissed off about it. He’s trying to be cordial to Harrington, but he keeps remembering how the basketball team messes with his Hellfire kids.

So he up charges him, gets a little petty revenge; he’s sure Harrington can afford it anyway. The extra money can go toward Eddie’s T payments.

Something rustles in the woods and Harrington freezes, listening. Some kind of wet, furless animal jumps out of the trees in a blur.

Before Eddie can react, Harrington grabs his hand and pulls him up, heading to the closest sanctuary, the high school. Eddie’s freaking out. They run into the building, and Harrington pulls them into the janitors closet. He lunges to the back, reaching for a mop, but Eddie hears a wet skittering in the hallway and slams the door shut. Harrington whips around at the noise and the sudden darkness. Eddie holds his breath until the creature passes.

“What the fuck is out there?” He hisses at Harrington. The closet is cramped and the floor is littered with cleaning supplies. They're right up on top of one another in the small space. “This is crazy, this is so fucking crazy—”

“Calm down!” Harrington hisses back, closer than he expects, breath brushing against Eddie's cheek.

“Calm? Why are you calm, what's wrong with you?” Eddie's heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might burst out of his chest. He can't breathe. “We just almost got attacked by some fuckin' thing!” He flutters his hands to emphasize 'thing' though Steve probably can't see it in the dark. He smacks a shelf.

“I've seen something like it before, it's some kind of demogorgon.” Harrington says. Eddie splutters. The king of Hawkins High just made a DnD reference.

“How do you—that is not a demogorgon, Harrington! Demogorgons don't exist and even if they did, they don't look like that!”

“Hey, you asked and I answered. And my name is Steve.” He reaches around Eddie and tries the door handle. He's practically hugging him.

Steve swears and flicks on the light switch, illuminating the closet. “It's stuck.”

Eddie can see Steve's face properly now in all its glory. The overhead bulb gleams off Steve's stupidly long eyelashes. He almost wants to turn the light back off. His breathing is still restricted.

“Guess we're trapped in here until somebody comes by.” Steve says.

Eddie balks at the thought of being stuck with Steve in close quarters for so long. “No we're not, just gimme a second.”

Eddie shoves a hand up under his Dio shirt so he can pull his bindings a little away from his chest.

“What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed. His eyes are wide.

“Don't get excited,” Eddie winks because apparently he has a death wish, “just need to breathe. Get me a flathead screwdriver. The door opens inward.”

Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, “Right, the hinges!” He turns around to rustle through the shelves, which Eddie, uh, doesn’t mind. Goddamn.

He faces Eddie again with a flathead in his hands and a triumphant look. Eddie grabs it with a ‘thanks’ and goes to work prying pins out of the hinges. He can feel Steve watching him. Eddie gets the door loose and shoves it open, catching it so it doesn’t make noise.

Steve stalks past him wielding a mop like a weapon.

“Where are you going?” Eddie stage whispers.

Steve looks over his shoulder at Eddie, hair artfully falling out of place. “I’ve gotta find that thing, I’m not gonna let it roam the school.”

Eddie looks at Steve, looks back at the exit, looks down at the tile floor.

“Shit.”

He follows.

#trans eddie munson #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #ftm eddie munson #steve x eddie #monster hunter steve harrington #set vaguely after the stancy alleyway breakup #steddie ficlet #autistic eddie munson

[gojo-mochi]

Asking JJK Men if you could watch them jerk off (Part 1; w/Toji, Gojo, and Geto)

CW: Dom!Toji and Soft!DomGeto, Gojo is sort of a Sub if you look closely. Usage of spit and praising, degrading words. Daddy kink for Toji as well. Part 2 will be with Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami. Comment to be tagged in Part 2 or comment who you wanna see in part 3! 

Part 2 Here!

Word Count: 3.2k

Toji: 

He will probably make you beg for it. If you wanna watch him so badly, you should show how badly you want it. He’ll sit manspread on the couch, his beefy thighs on either end. Pulling up the waistband of his gray sweats and letting it snap back into place. The outline of his hard cock can be seen every time he snaps it back. A wicked grin placed on his face as he watched you pout and whine that he was taking too long. He made you kneel on the floor in front of him, but slapped away your hand when you tried to take matters into your own hands and pull down his sweats yourself. 

“Tch. So fucking needy, can’t wait a goddamn minute, can you?” He sneered, scrunching up his nose at you. Still, his cock twitches with a heavy need; he would rather have your hands on him or, better yet, use that pretty throat of yours to fuck. But since you begged him so politely, he could let you have this one, just this once though. Finally pulling down his sweats, he never wears boxers at home so his cock springs up heavily, thick and red. The veins throbbing deliciously, making your mouth water at the sight. Some trickle of precum already tainting the unruly bush that Toji doesn’t bother to take care of.

 Toji’s hand easily engulfed and wraps around his own length, the scarred hand slowly running up and down on it. Toji lets out a soft hiss, moving his hand a bit faster before stopping abruptly. You blinked in confusion, you were enjoying the sight and started whining again asking why he stopped. He shushes you by putting a finger on your lips, from the same hand that he was jerking off with, so you could smell his musk when he did that. You were about to bite at his hand when he held his palm open in front of you. Uttering one command. 

“Spit.” 

You obeyed without a word, spitting right on Toji’s palm as he watched you with an intense gaze. He brought his other hand down to squeeze and pinch at your cheek with a mocking coo.

 “Good girl~” He said it sarcastically, but he knew that those words affected you either way, by the way you were rubbing your thighs together. Your hands inching down your skirt, trying to get some relief of your own. 

“You better keep your hands to yourself, if you want me to continue, doll.” You glared at him, crossing your arms and huffing out. “Well, get on with it then, Toji.” He raises an eyebrow at you, his hand back on his cock but not moving this time. “What was that, doll?” Silence, you didn’t dare make a sound, knowing that you made the wrong move by calling him by his name. “Eyes on me, doll.” Your eyes barely got to look at the ground for a mere second before Toji made you snap them back up. Cowering back a bit, you muttered an apology. “Sorry, Daddy….” 

Toj stares at you for what seems like an eternity, making you sweat and shrink in yourself even more. He snorts at your display; “Keep those eyes on me, you were the one who wanted this, so watch.” You straighten up your back, your eyes glued onto Toji’s form. He takes it slow again, gently coating his cock with your spit, grunting as all the talk before made it a little bit cold. His hand leisurely went up his length, his thumb playing with his slit for a bit, then coming down. Repeating this process a couple times as you watch on in awe, memorizing and soaking in every little reaction Toji made. From the low grunts and hisses he made to the way his cock twitched slightly every time he passed a certain vein. 

Your spit wasn’t enough to completely cover everything, so he started using some of the precum that gushed out to help. You wring your hands together, watching Toji flutter his eyelashes and emit a deep groan, your pussy fluttering as well. “Is this what you wanted, huh? Needy little thing you…so fucking perverted aren’t you? Wanting to watch me jerk off.” He smirks at your mewls of embarrassment. Your hands balled into fists in your lap as you fought off the urge to disobey Toji’s earlier command. 

 “Hahhh-fuck- It be better if I were using that slutty mouth of yours instead, or better yet, I should be fucking that filthy pussy of yours. I bet she’s crying for me, right now, isn’t she?” Another groan gets out as Toji squeezes his tip, grunting heavily as he throws out more degrading words at you. “It's a shame for me to waste my cum like this, you know? After all, I know how much you like it when Daddy fills you up to the brim…” Your nails dig into your thighs as you rub them together, trying to get a little bit of friction you so desperately needed. 

After a few more passes of his hand, fisting his cock lazily, Toji threw his head back and sighed in annoyance; “I’m getting bored of this.” His eyes darken, taking in your appearance. Your chest, heaving up and down slowly, your hands shaking at your side, the sweet  blush that comes across the bridge of your nose. He grins down wolfishly at you, a hunger evident in his aura. He slaps his thigh with his free hand. “C’ere and help me, Doll. This will be your punishment for earlier…”

Satoru:

So, soooooo smug about it when you asked him if you could watch him do it. So annoying about it too, bending over and placing a hand behind his ear as he pretended not to hear you the first time. “Huh? What was that? You wanted to watch me do what?” He got right up in your personal space, you almost regretted asking him but pressed on anyway. “I want to watch you…jerk off in front of me, Satoru.” He grinned like a cat that had found a stash of cream, bending backwards this time so he could look up at you from below.  

Slipping a thumb under his blindfold and pulling it up just a bit to peek one eye up at you. “You wanna watch me? The Gojo Satoru?! Jerk his massive 10-inch cock right in-Mmph!” You clasped your hand over his mouth, looking around frantically to see if anyone was nearby to hear that. “Satoru! We are still in school!” You hissed at him, squealing and reeling your hand in disgust back when Satoru licked it. “Toru! Ugh! You’re such a child!” Satoru bounced back to his standing height, sticking out his tongue at you. 

“You were the one that asked me first, and I thought you liked it when I used my tongue on you.” He wiggled his eyebrow at you from underneath his blindfold, and you retorted back by wiping your stained hand on his shirt. He was about to say something back when Yuji’s boisterous voice called out to the both of you. “Gojo-Sensei! Y/N-Sensei!” He ran ahead of Nobara and Megumi, waving his arms up and down enthusiastically as he barreled toward you. Giving you an almost crushing bear hug, which you gladly returned. “Nice to see you too, Yuji.” 

 You felt Satoru’s immense jealous energy pour out from behind you, patting Yuji on the back and falling back to Satoru’s side. Nobara and Megumi catch up to Yuji, both of them giving you a knowing look as Satoru wraps his arm around your shoulder and begins to drag you away. Stating that you had teacher work to do or whatever. You can hear Yuji’s sad mumbling as he wanted to see if you and Satoru would go see Human Earthworm 3 remake with him. Nobara and Megumi sighed, dragging Yuji away. 

“Come on,We’ll go see that stupid movie with you.”

“I’m leaving halfway through though; there’s a sale happening at Harajuku that me and Maki are going to.” 

“What?! But that when the best part of the movie happens, it's when the scientist is revealed to actually be the-”

Your student's voice fades away as Satoru hurries you back to the school building, pushing you into an empty classroom and closing the door. He brings a chair right in front of the teacher desk, motioning for you to sit on it. Now you really regret asking him to do this, you hesitatingly sit down, watching Satoru’s action carefully. He made a big show for you, dancing around the teacher’s desk for a bit, doing a little spin and bow before propping down on top. 

Leaning back on one hand and crossing his legs, he tilts his head back a bit in a mocking stance. You fold your arms, deciding to play along with Satoru’s game, knowing that if you walk out now, he’s gonna pout about it for weeks on end. He points a finger at you silently, waiting for you to speak. You just shrugged at him, not knowing what he wanted from you, this only made Satoru furrow his brows in even deeper. 

“Do you understand why you’re here, Miss Y/N?”

“No, I don’t, Satoru-”

“Ah-Ah! It’s Gojo-Sensei to you.”

“.....Gojo-Sensei.” 

Satoru stifled a giggle, almost losing his composure. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward, clasping his hands together as he speaks down to you. “Well, I see that you've been slacking lately, perhaps feeling a little unmotivated?” He frowns, even fabricating a worried tone in his voice. You tuck some hair behind your ear, blinking in some tears in your eyes. “Sorry, Gojo-Sensei. It's just been getting hard for me to focus lately..” You wobble your lips cutely, making Satoru giggle for real this time, hiding it behind a cough right after.  

“Hmm.. that is a problem, but I think I know what I can do to help motivate you.” 

He takes off his blindfold first, letting his snowy hair fall down gracefully, framing his face beautifully. His hand comes down to unzip his pants, pulling down just enough for his bulge to show through his briefs. He palms at the bulge for a bit while he looks at you, licking his lips. “Nghhah-I want you to watch your teacher carefully, alright, my precious student?” Satoru’s voice rasps out, biting his bottom lips as he fishes out his cock, you always thought it was truly pretty. 

Not quite thick, but it makes it up in length and topped with a snowy patch that was always neatly trimmed. Your mouth dries up looking at Satoru’s long and slender fingers wrapped around his cock. His hands were pretty too, you thought silently, everything about Satoru just screamed an angelic beauty. He bucks up his hips into his hand, letting out a soft curse. “Fuck-mmphhh…” He keeps an even pace with his hand as he moves it up and down his own length, twisting it at the top and holding it there for a moment while he addresses you. “Come on now, tell your teacher your thoughts-nghh-tell him like that you like what you see..”  

 You shift on the chair, feeling your own arousal start to soak your panties; “I like it a lot, Gojo-Sensei. So good for me, you look so pretty…” Your compliment went straight to his cock; “Ye-yeah, baby? Tell me more, tell me how good I look right now.” He buck up even more in his hand, fisting his cock faster and faster. His glossy, plump lips part to let out lascivious moans and whiny pants. His thighs started to shake a bit as he was nearing his peak. 

“Oh Toru, you’re doing so good, fuck-I wanna eat you up right now. Come on, honey, can you cum for me? Let me see how good you look when you cum.” 

With one last whine, Satoru finishes all over his hand, rope of cum spilling out on his briefs and even staining the floor below. You would need to clean that up later but you didn’t care at the moment, more occupied by the immense need to fit Satoru’s cock down your throat so you could hear those whines again. 

“Thank you for the lesson, Gojo-Sensei. Can I reward you for being such a good teacher now?” 

Suguru: 

You were too nervous to ask him outright, but he noticed you were always staring at his crotch when he sat on the couch. He snaps his fingers, pulling you out of your haze. “Hello? Dear? You alright there?” Suguru’s baritone voice rings out to you, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he watches your eyes flicker from his pants to his face. “Huh? Oh, um yeah, I’m fine.” Suguru hums in return; his dark eyes boring straight into your soul and pussy. He curls a finger in, motioning for you to come stand in front of him. 

Your body moves first before your mind can even think; you're already used to following Suguru’s commands obediently and swiftly. As you stand in front of him, he grabs your hands in his and intertwines your fingers together. “Sweetheart, remember? I told you, you don’t have to be shy around me. Tell me what’s on your mind.” You opened your mouth to reply. Suguru tacked on one more thing before you could. “And if you try to tell me that it was ‘Nothing’, remember also that I have ways of making you talk, love.” He threatened with a light feathery tone, you squirmed a bit, remembering the last time you didn’t listen to Suguru. You couldn’t walk right for a week after.  

It took a few squeezes of your hands for you to voice out your request. “I want to watch you masturbate in front of me, Suguru.” Your confession made your ears burn and you were quick to pull back both physically and verbally. “Only if you’re ok with it, I-” As you tried to pull your hands away and step back, Suguru’s entrapped you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap, his lips directly next to your ear as he chuckled deeply. “Was that all, my love? Such an easy request, no need to feel bad about it.” You let out a little yelp as Suguru bit on your earlobe, licking at the small wound after. 

The sensation was already making you wet, heat pulsing at your core, barely catching Suguru’s next commands for you.”Kneel down in front of me, love.” He spreads his thighs apart, so you have ample room down there. You get down from Suguru’s thigh, kneeling down as he pats your heads, weaving his fingers through your locks. “Good girl~, rest your cheek on my thigh and enjoy the show, alright~?” You squish your cheeks against Suguru’s sturdy thigh, eyes on his delicate hands, as he makes quick work of unzipping his pants and shimmering them down just enough for his boxers to go down too. 

 You rub your thighs together as his cock springs out, half-hard, curving slightly upwards. Your face was so close to it, you could easily see all the veins and small twitches it made. Suguru watches as you bring your own hand down, slipping it under your shorts, as loose moans escape your lips. The puffs of air hitting on his cock deliciously. An idea popped into Suguru's head as he watched on. Two fingers gently tapping your cheek to get your attention, “Dearest, could you do something for me?” 

“Hmm?” Your mind was already falling into that hazy mode whenever Suguru started to order you around, using that soft commanding lithe in his voice that lulled you into a different world. His fingers trace your bottom lips, which you open easily, letting the digit invade your mouth. Your tongue swirling around Suguru’s fingers, coating them in saliva, your own fingers still playing with your pussy under your shorts. “Good~ Now, I want you to get your hand all nice and wet down there for me, alright? Play with yourself, imagine it’s my hand if you have to, dear.” 

 You groan as he pushes his fingers down on your tongue, rolling it over the wet muscle as you keep on plunging your own inside of yourself, diligently following Suguru’s command. Your thighs tremble, a high-pitched whine coming from your throat as your stomach starts to coil. “Stop.” Your hand follows his command instantly, even though your body laments the loss of pleasure. He takes out his fingers from your mouth and motions for you to bring your hand up. 

“Don’t whine too much, dear. Use your hand to coat my cock in your juices; make sure to cover everything~” His obsidian eyes peer down at you as you work, grabbing the base of his cock, smearing your arousal all over it, and slowly going upwards. Feeling Suguru’s length comes to full hardness in your hand. You did a few go around, Suguru stopping you the third time. Once his cock was wet and sticky, he praised you for doing a good job. 

 You folded your hands back on your lap, shifting your head on his thigh to get a good angle as he began to stroke his cock leisurely. Sighing out quietly, letting his hand go and his cock fall downwards a bit, every few strokes. Changing up the speed as he went, sometimes going so fast, the wet noises squelched every time his fist went all the way down to his balls. Or so agonizingly slow that low groans get ripped from his pretty lips. He was torturing himself just a little, since he loves observing your cute reactions to seeing him do so. Suguru enjoyed having your 100% full and undivided attention. 

 Some drool seeped out from the side of your mouth as you watched on, Suguru chuckled quietly at the sight. At you being so pliant and submissive, all for him. He taps you on the cheek to get your attention once more, “Sit up and face me, my dear.” You pulled away from his thigh, the bit of drool staining his pants a bit as you left. You sat back on your knees and faced his cock; “Eyes closed, I don’t want you to get injured-hahh..” He quickened his pace, the pleasure from seeing you so cutely waiting for his cum to be splattered on you, made it that much easier for Suguru to reach his peak.  He angles his cock right towards you as he releases, rope of cum spilling on your face hotly, you loll out your tongue as Suguru slaps his cock twice on it, letting the tip rub on your tongue for a little as the last spurts of cum gets out. A hefty moan leaves Suguru’s mouth as he does this, hasty and earnest praises fall as well. “Good…good girl~ You did so well for me, does my cum taste good, hmm? Hahh-fuck Mm we should do this more often. But now, it’s your turn, dear. Get up on the couch and let me have a taste of you…”

#softy write #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #toji smut #geto smut #₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — bakugou hates feeling jealous. but you make it worthwhile.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader. absolutely none. sfw. / note. katsuki is a cutie patootie.

jealous bakugou is something else. he doesn’t think he’s all that possessive of you at all - he doesn’t care if your outfit is skimpy or if you have guy friends. bakugou regards himself as very secure in his relationship with you.

until he hears what guys have to say about you. then he gets a little crazy.

it’s an open day where he’s helping a group of lackies and hero interns with integrating into his agency and it’s pretty innocent at first. kiri and deku are doing most of the heavy lifting with talking with the prospective sidekicks and heroes (katsuki is very content with the extras he has already). he’s already kind of distracted by seeing you this morning - you offered to lift a hand and do some extra work around his agency for today due to the unusual amount of people scoping his place out and why would he pass on an offer to see you around his agency all day?

unfortunately for katsuki, it means that he’s being increasingly more distant than he usually is and the interns can feel the disgusted energy emitting from every fibre in his body. it’s not like he’s trying to hide it though - what a waste to have you come to his workplace and only catch glimpses of your hair and your scent.

“kacch- dynamight? what do you look for in a sidekick who wants to potentially join this agency,” asks izuku, pulling his friend out of his thoughts. katsuki looks at the crowd of young, probably high school kids and they basically cower under his gaze. he recognises a few of them from other, unimportant events he can’t seem to specifically recall. god, he wants to bite back at them but he shrugs in annoyance.

“don’t piss me off and do as you’re told. simple as but it seems like you lot would still f-”, deku quickly interjects katsuki and yells out, “okay! let’s take a quick 10 minute break! just have a look around and we’re free if you have any questions you want to ask!”

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“what is with you today, kacchan? you’re more… insolent than usual,” asks izuku slowly, watching the expression on his blond’s face meld into a face of indifference.

“maybe it’s the fact that i don’t care about these idiots who’re just making a goddamn mess of the place. i don’t need more extras to fuck shit up f’me,” bakugou grumbles. kirishima pats his moody friends on the back and goes to speak when-

“well at least the rumours about dynamight are true. that guy is a fucking mood killer,” says some guy standing in the corner of the reception area, who looks to be a sidekick and is accompanied by other unknown up and coming ‘extras’ as Katsuki woukd put it.

“tell me about it. the guys here fucking suck. for once, i’m wishing that we were stuck with the female pros instead. have you seen uravity? she’s sexier in real life,” pipes up some other guy and the rest holler and hoot.

the three pros look at each other, with bakugou looking at kirishima and deku with knowing, smug eyes.

“i’m just going to interrupt their conversation-” says kirishima, attempting to walk over until another lackey pipes up.

“but have you seen y/h/n? what a woman. shame she’s not in her hero suit. what i would do for a woman like that,” grunts some pathetic looking guy. he’s spindly and limp and looks akin to a wet noodle.

it doesn’t stop katsuki from seething though.

kirishima and izuku slowly turn to look at their friend - who’s practically steaming in his hero uniform. all katsuki can see is red and violence - which isn’t really unlike from what he normally sees but it’s different this time. this time it’s about you.

he sees the group of gross, teenage boys point to where you’re standing: you’re leaning over the receptionist desk and just from the behind can katsuki appreciate how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a short black turtleneck dress with orange accents (you told him that you wanted to wear his colours to his agency) and in any other setting would katsuki run his hands over you and compliment and kiss you till you were shying away from him.

bakugou knew that you got unwanted attention, regardless if he was standing by you like a rabid guard dog - you were gorgeous and you knew that. he also knew that you could hold your own against a hoard of horny teenage losers and you would never look twice at them when you had him. still, that logic went out the window when he could see the same group of kids leering and pointing at where your thighs met the bottom of your dress and he wanted to kill them.

kirishima got wind of this just by looking at the blond’s expression, “please don’t blow up the place - they’re just dumb kids! think about how hard we worked for this agency,” pleads kirishima.

“he’s too far gone,” izuku sadly laments as they watch bakugou stride on over to you and ignore both the men’s pleas and bargains. he aggressively pushes past the disgusting collective of eyes and they break apart in shock at his intrusion through them.

you’re, however, too enamoured in your conversation with his assistant and mina- you’re looking at a pinterest board and he wants to bite you for being so cute in front of everyone. it makes him even angrier that those extras would ever think that you would give them more than a side eye and a polite wave.

you feel katsuki before you see him - his uniform-clad arm holds your waist between the desk as he slots himself into your conversation.

“so what’s this about? whatcha talking about?” katsuki asks and mina and his assistant giggle at his intrusion while you roll your eyes and turn yourself sideways to look at him.

“i would tell you but mina and akako might kill me,” you tell your boyfriend, resting a manicured hand on his chest. akako, bakugou’s assistant, laughs and nods her head:

“sorry, dynamight, our conversations are sacred. might i add your timetable tells me that you’re due to take the interns on a practice patrol in less than… 20 minutes?”

katsuki narrows his eyes at this and you chastise akako for poking at him, “leave him alone! i want him here,” before resting a hand on his stubbled jaw and scratching at his face. katsuki’s eyes close at the sensation and he opens them to take a good look at your face. the stupid kids are still a embittering thought in the back of his mind and in any given situation, he would never do this. but sometimes bakugou’s heart goes against his common sense and this was one of those times.

he leans down to slots his lips over yours and presses a gloved hand into the small of your back and you smile into the kiss while a few “awwhs,” emit in the background. bakugou opens an eye slightly to see in his peripheral vision that the gaggle of the limp-faced sidekicks are looking at him in a mixture of shock and fear and embarrassment. he also sees kirishima and izuku grab them up to guide them out of the room.

when you break from the kiss to brush at the hair on the nape of his head, he mumbles, “have i told you how much i love that dress on you?”

you giggle a little and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a few times. but you can keep telling me if you want. ‘s not like i’ll get tired of hearing it,” you whisper to him and it’s like you’re the only people in the room. he’ll tell you about what spurned this on another day. in the meanwhile, he bask in your attention until he has to go and entertain those useless jerks. it’s not like he’s going to employ any of them.

bakugou would say this is a mission accomplished in his book. yeah, he’s a little jealous and possessive. but with the way you look at him, he finds himself caring less and less about what others have to say about you.

doesn’t mean he won’t try knock them in the side of their head if the time calls for it.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

#katsuki is so cute when he’s jealous i love him #bakugo x reader #not proofread at all mb y’all #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff #bakugou x reader #i like writing now if you guys couldn’t tell #bakugou katsuki #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki. #✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕

[whatsnewalycat]

SURRENDER

Part Two of Ruthless | Stepdad Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6.2k+

Warnings: non-canon, Boston Joel, dub con, step-cest, sneaky sex, use of the word daddy in a sexual context, dad kink (that’s a thing right?), age gap, degradation, praise kink, avoidance, silent treatment, sneaking into bedroom at night, angst, collective grief, mentions of explosions and gunshots (nothing graphic), *it’s about the yearning*, hair pulling, no physical descriptions of reader aside from hair can be pulled, reader is 18-19, Joel being a bad dom and a bad caretaker, hot shower, food mention, mentions of religion, unethical D/s dynamics, dry humping, anal sex, physical restraint, face fucking, sub-space unlocked, dirty talk, dd/lg maybe i think, masochism, like a lick of fluff if u squint 

A/N: Heeeey buddy. As stated above, this is a second part to Ruthless. Big thanks to my love @frannyzooey for the help and hype, you're the best. Please be mindful of the warnings and tell me what cults you think exist in post-outbreak tlou.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

———

As the 19-year anniversary of Outbreak Day draws near, unrest festers in the streets of Boston.

Whenever August ticks over into September, residents of the QZ seem to divide into three distinct categories: people who want to forget, people who won’t let them forget, and people who are too young to remember. 

Born post-apocalypse, you fall into this third category. 

Which doesn’t mean the ripples of loss don’t touch you, contrary to what some may think. You still lost something. Everyone did. 

This fact is apparent when you take the scenic route home from your job posting at the distribution center. 

Rubble crunches under your shoes as you walk down the crowded sidewalk, passing by a message spray-painted over the battered brick building: WE’VE BEEN FORSAKEN. 

Graffitied sentiments like these pop up constantly this time of year. Overnight, almost. Your mom and Joel mostly blame Fireflies for the vandalism. The bombs, too. Apparently they stir shit up to make people uneasy, then recruit those who seem susceptible. That’s what your mom thinks, anyway. ‘Leveraging their grief against them,’ she says. 

You think it might be more than that, though. 

Yesterday you saw three separate arguments break out in the streets. When you were taking inventory of k-rations this morning, an explosion went off so close-by that boxes rattled off the shelves. It was the second bombing this week, and you don’t foresee it getting better until October. 

Sure, the Fireflies lay claim to the lion’s share of vandalism and destruction, but their activity is consistent year round. They are the baseline. But this? This is different. 

You attribute the excess chaos to this heavy, static feeling in the air. It clings to your skin and gets stuck under your nails like a thick cloud of invisible dust or spores. Microscopic particles embed themselves in the cracks and creases of each person inside the QZ, fertile ground for clusters of violence to sprout up at every turn. 

If you had to guess, you’d say this phenomenon probably spans the globe. All of you felt the loss of Outbreak Day, the whole human collective. Echoes of what humanity lost will likely still be heard a thousand years from now. 

Some people refuse to accept this. 

Like the guy a few strides ahead of you, who walks by an orange spray-painted message that reads REMEMBER WHAT YOU LOST and sneers, “Almost twenty goddamn years, fuckin’ let it go and move on.” 

You watch him. See his neck get all red as he mutters to himself and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks around like he expects someone to challenge him. Nobody does. 

This doesn’t seem to satisfy him. 

Further up the sidewalk, he encounters a memorial made up of candles and wilting flowers hugging the side of a residential building. He kicks it over and repeats his earlier sentiment, this time louder and directed towards the brick wall. 

“It’s been twenty fucking years, get the fuck over it already!” 

Of course, a passing spectator indulges him. 

“Hey—watch it, asshole!” 

The two men puff up their chests and start yelling back and forth, so you cut right down an alleyway to avoid the situation completely. 

When you arrive home, you find Joel at the dining room table, hunched over a map, holding a glass of whiskey like it’s a lifeline. 

Neither of you say hello, but when you glance up while untying your gritty shoelaces, you catch him staring at you. 

A jolt of electricity shoots through you. 

He corrects himself, returning his eyes to the map as he takes a big swig from his glass. 

“Mom home?” 

“No.” 

Nodding, you rise to your feet and slip out of your shoes, squirming with the excitement that one syllable brings you. 

“When’s she gonna be home?” 

He doesn’t look at you. Just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey, too engrossed in his project to spare you attention. 

For weeks, he’s been trying his hardest to pretend you don’t exist, which would be typical behavior if he didn’t fuck you dumb a few weeks ago. Sometimes you’re not even sure that what happened between you was real. 

But, then again, sometimes… sometimes you feel him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’ll notice. Sometimes he touches your waist as he passes by. Sometimes at night you hear him pacing the hall outside your bedroom, the faint squeak of the warped floorboards giving him away. 

When this happens, you stare at the door and will him to do it. Aching with something stronger than want, you pray for him to cross the threshold. But he never does. 

You exhale through slack lips and wrinkle your nose at the canned goods. 

“Hungry?”

He grunts in response, which is Joel for ‘I could eat.’

Tilting your head at the handwritten labels, you present the options, “Stew or… meat and beans?” 

Another grunt, roughly translating to ‘Both options are fucking terrible,’ a sentiment with which you wholeheartedly agree. You grab the stew and empty it into a saucepan on the gas stovetop. 

While it heats, you steal glances at Joel, noticing the rigidity in his demeanor. His set jaw and tense muscles. The deep creases in his furrowed brow. 

You’ve coexisted with him long enough to understand he’s not immune to the heady thrum of anguish in the air this time of year. Like you said, nobody is. 

Joel distinctly falls into the “people who want to forget” category of the forsaken, but carries whatever or whoever he lost on Outbreak Day like a ten thousand-pound weight on his broad shoulders. He white-knuckles his way through the season of chaos and mourning and tries to act like it doesn’t affect him, but it does. 

You can tell, not just from the way he holds the grief captive in his body, but also from the obvious indulgence in his favorite coping mechanism: planning. 

Joel is a meticulous planner. 

Between smuggling runs, he comes home after a long day of manual labor at some job site and unwinds by plotting logistics. Drinking, too, but he clearly has a favorite. 

Hours will go by while he pours over reference material, maps or blueprints, making addendums of any notable changes he and your mom discovered. After this, he deliberates. Joel could chew up weeks with this step. He plots out each possible route, taking into consideration all the penciled-in shortcuts and caches they’ve stashed within a 30-mile radius, then determines the most beneficial path for their next big adventure. 

Given FEDRA’s current paranoid state, with the increased patrols and surveillance and whatnot, your mom and Joel won’t be making a trip outside anytime soon. But still, he drinks and plots and winds himself up into a tight obsessive knot. 

You divvy up the simmering stew into two bowls, placing one next to his glass of bootleg booze while you take a seat across the table from him. He ignores your presence, just flicks his eyes around the map like it’s supposed to give him the answers. 

When you’re halfway done with your bowl, you gently prod him, “It’s gonna get cold.” 

Sitting up in his chair, he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, then folds up the map and sets it aside. 

The two of you eat in silence. Each wordless second twists hot beneath your skin. Your mind wanders to the dig of his fingertips in your soft flesh. The sting of his flattened palm. The stretch of his thick cock. The things he said to you—fuck.  

You’re tempted to tell him to do it again. To tell him that you’re still abiding by his rules. That you don’t sneak out anymore. That you haven’t felt the sweet bliss of release for weeks because you don’t fucking come without his permission. 

Over and over, you rehearse it in your head. You imagine yourself telling him, ‘I’ve been so good for you and you haven’t even noticed.’

The sound of him clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts. 

He shifts in his seat a little, studying you, “You still seein’ that boy downstairs?” 

Your heart stutters. Heat floods your veins as you shake your head. 

“Why not?” 

All you can do is stare at him while trying to verbalize an answer. For weeks, you ached for his attention. And now that you have it? The words are stuck in your throat. 

You shrug, pushing your empty bowl away to lean your elbows on the table. When you look up at him again, he blinks. Waiting for a response. 

A rush of adrenaline makes the world around you buzz. 

“Why do you care?”

He clenches his jaw for a moment, then parts his lips to respond. 

The apartment door swings open. 

Both of you start at the intrusion. You jump to your feet to collect the dirty dishes while Joel turns to greet your mother. 

“It’s a fucking madhouse out there,” she grumbles, then pulls out the seat adjacent to him and starts telling him about her day. 

———

You step into the shower and hiss in reaction to the scalding hot water. 

The fact that it's warmed at all surprises you. Not an unwelcome surprise, even if it hurts a little. Most days the water comes out tepid at best, and you’d gladly accept a third-degree burn over a lukewarm shower. 

Besides, the sting feels right on your skin, as weird as that sounds. You relish the pain while washing yourself, thinking, ‘this is what I deserve for feeling this way.’ Hell fire, if the sidewalk preachers are right. If there is such a thing. If you’re not there already. 

Only once the water runs cold do you turn it off and go back to your room, leaving the door cracked open behind you. After putting on a big t-shirt and some underwear, you turn off the lights and climb into bed. 

For a while you stare at the water-stained ceiling and listen. You hear the roar of FEDRA’s armed vehicles patrolling the streets. Far away, gunshots ring out into the night. Some kid starts crying next door, then his mother lulls him back to sleep. 

Closing your eyes, you try to tune it all out and focus on the noises within this unit. Concentrate on the drip-drip-drip of the bathtub faucet. The ripping sound of your mom’s snores. 

Then, you hear it. 

A creak from the floorboards. Footsteps. 

Their bedroom door squeaking open. 

Everything goes silent long enough for you hold your breath and scream inside your head, please please please—

It starts again. One careful step, then another. 

His presence hovers there at the door for six restless seconds before he opens it and steps inside, closing it behind him. 

Your pounding heart squeezes your breath ragged. It comes out this shallow, shaky push and pull that broadcasts your consciousness. 

Still, you pretend. 

You keep your eyes pinned shut and listen to the advance of his footsteps to your bedside. 

Down by your feet, the mattress shifts under his weight. He doesn’t touch you for a while, only watches you, his gaze burning into your skin. 

Then, he murmurs, “I know you’re not sleepin’.” 

You blink your eyes open to look at him, in boxers and an undershirt, all hunched over at the foot of your bed. Always carrying that weight on his shoulders. The glow of the street lamp outside your bedroom window casts this perfect golden light on him that makes you kind of hate how good he looks. 

“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper. 

Over the blanket, he rests his hand on your calf, then takes it back and shakes his head. 

You roll onto your side, swinging one leg over the blanket and tucking it between your thighs, a wordless plea for him to touch your hungry skin. Joel shifts further onto the bed, turning his body to stare down at you with a straight spine. His gaze drifts up your exposed skin, fingers twitching in his lap. 

This faltering self-discipline compels you. 

Joel is nothing if not self-disciplined. That much is true for all the forsaken, yourself included. 

Your working theory is that nobody wants after the world ends, they just need. Need to sleep, need to eat, need to fight. Anything to survive one more fucking day. It’s all any of you can ask for. 

So do you want him, or do you need him? 

And what about him? Joel fucking Miller, with his reinforced concrete walls and heavy heart. Was he ever capable of wanting? 

“Joel,” you reach out to touch him, beckoning him to meet you halfway. 

His eyes flick to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. He shakes his head, as if declining the offer, but you don’t retreat. You sit up and crawl across the bed to him. 

The column of his throat bobs, head rocking back as he watches you come to a stop. He almost lets you touch his cheek when you try again, but snatches your hand away before you can make contact. 

“Don’t,” he warns, the tone of his hushed voice deadly serious. 

He squeezes your fingers while you study his stonewalled expression, tilting your head at him, “Why did you ask me that earlier? If I’m still seeing Bert?”

“I was curious.” 

“Curious why?” 

His lips part, then close, gaze dropping to your mouth. 

Heat pulses through every inch of your body. You drop your voice to a breathy whisper. 

“Were you thinking about what you did to me?” 

Something flickers behind his eyes when they snap onto yours. It draws you in, urging you to scoot so close your knees butt-up against his jackknifed leg. 

“You fucking loved it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly, smirking a little when his stern face twitches, “You loved how it felt to make me surrender—” 

The dull throb of his tightening grip around your hand makes you gasp. A rumble slips from his chest, which could be read as a warning if you had an ounce of self-control left. If you didn’t need him to combust. 

You let your gaze drift from his burning gaze down the slope of his nose to his lips, “Do you think about it every time you see me, like I do with you? How fucking good it felt?” 

“It was wrong—” 

“Then why are you here?”

Your question comes out louder than you expected. It ricochets through the charged space between his body and yours, popping the bubble of awareness around you. 

All the little sounds you picked up on earlier seep back into the foreground. FEDRA patrolling. The whiz-pop of firecrackers going off maybe a block away. A faint murmur of conversation in the upstairs unit. 

He holds your stare, but doesn’t make a sound until a snore rips from your mom’s chest, signaling crisis averted. When he speaks, his words come out hushed and calm. 

“You need to be quiet. Understand?” 

The command liquifies your bones. 

You lick your lips and nod, “I understand.” 

“Good.” He studies you as if deep in thought, finally releasing your hand to pinch your chin and assert, “You know why I’m here. Stop pretendin�� you don’t.” 

It’s hard not to fall in line when he’s looking down at you like this, all hot-blooded and self-assured. Cocky, almost. But you try to push his buttons anyway. 

“I thought it was wrong.”  

“Don’t get cute with me. Yes or no?” 

Your pulse flutters. Tongue goes numb. All you can do is nod. 

He jostles your head a little, “Say it.” 

“Yes.” 

“Say yes please.” 

“Yes please.” 

He works his jaw back and forth, studying you, then tugs your shirt.

“Take this off.” 

While you pull the offending garment over your head and toss it aside, Joel moves further onto the mattress, leaning back against the wall. 

You follow him, swallowing the static buzzing in your throat as he ushers you onto his lap. The scrape of his rough hands on your waist may as well be a live wire crackling across your skin. He pulls you closer and closer until your belly presses into the worn cotton of his shirt. The heat between your legs settles on his stiff length. When he twitches against you, a heady electric current courses through your body and coaxes a whimper from your lips. 

It seems too intimate to look at him, so you cast your gaze downward. Your shaky hands lay flat against his chest, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm. 

Being with him like this feels strange. Not strange how it sometimes is with a new partner, that clumsiness before you know how your bodies work together. 

It’s strange in a fucked up out-of-context sort of way. Of course, growing up around him never conditioned you to think of him like this. Joel fucking Miller, with his scarred-up knuckles and unending apathy. The only man who could make big brown eyes like that seem cold. 

All those years, you never considered him anything more than an obstacle. 

Even then, if there was some tiny shimmer of attraction lingering under your skin, a piece of you that wanted more from him, you never thought he could feel so solid and soft and alive. You never dreamed he could make you feel so fucking good.

“This stays between us,” he tells you, more of a command than a request. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

The tips of his fingers dig into your hips, and he purrs, “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you?”

You preen at the warm timbre of his voice, body arching into him as you breathe, “Yes.”

Under your touch, his muscles tense. He exhales hot against your cheek and guides your hips in a rocking motion, slow and steady, rubbing all those aching nerves hard against him. 

“You liked it, too. Didn’t you? How I fucked you last time?” 

A low-frequency hum throbs deep inside you, amplifying every sensation tenfold. You nod, rolling your hips faster, “I did, I liked it.”

“Yeah, you liked it? Or did you fucking love it?” he hisses, “Dirty little slut like you. Bet you loved getting fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”

“Oh my god, Joel—” 

“Tell me.”

“Yes yes yes I fucking loved it—” 

Too loud. 

He ceases all movement, locking you in place with a steel grip. All ten of his digits bury themselves in your skin. The exquisite pain makes you gasp. 

“Hush.”

You clamp down on your lips in an attempt to stifle yourself. Each heaving breath wiggles down to your core and back. 

“Look at me.” 

If you do, you’ll dissolve at the edges. You know it. You are sugar paper and he is a humid room and you are so incredibly fucked. 

Pinching your eyes shut harder, you shake your head and whisper, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I’ll come if I do.” 

The confession makes him throb underneath you. He husks, “Do it, look at me.” 

You do. 

Even in the shadows you can make out his features, his parted lips and hooded gaze. The desire etched into his face as he stares at you, looking mystified in a way you’ve never seen before. Heat percolates beneath your skin, sending your heartbeat racing. 

His hips arch into you just so, then he pulls you in and pushes you back, rubbing your body against his, “Do you wanna come? Come for me just like this?” 

“Please—please,” you whine, feeling pleasure branch out from your middle as he slides you back and forth, “Please I wanna come for you it’s been so long—” 

“Will you be quiet?” 

Swallowing a moan, you nod frantically. 

His eyes flicker around your face and he breathes, “Go ahead.”

You’re not sure if it’s the flames in his eyes or the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in almost two months, but the second he gives you permission, the ecstasy you tried so hard to contain spills over the edges and floods your body. It pulses through you hot and hard and makes your mind go white. You have to clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the guttural noises that try to escape. 

“That’s it,” he coos from far away, still grinding your twitching body against him, “There we go. That’s my good girl, hmm?” 

“Oh my god—” you whimper at the sharp aftershocks that shoot through you, “It feels so good, Joel, fuck—” 

“Do you wanna come again?” 

Nodding, you link your hands behind his neck and set yourself in motion, rubbing against him a little faster than his set rhythm. His eyelids flutter as he throws his head back, the muscles under his shirt going taught. Beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, he’s hard as a fucking rock. 

Releasing the tight grasp on your hips, he roams up your sensitive skin to your breasts and tests their weight before squeezing. It shoots through you, the pleasure and pain indistinguishable, just a throbbing rush of need. Your breathing comes in heaving gasps and you pinch your eyes shut again, tilting your head towards the ceiling as you once again find yourself struggling to keep quiet. 

“Eyes on me,” he reminds you. 

You snap them open and meet his. 

“Good girl.” 

And—god, the way he looks at you, his gaze hungry and wild. Fucking maddening. Simultaneously, you wish he would stop—the contact too intense, too intimate—and pray that it never fucking ends. 

Heat bubbles up inside you. You bury your fists in his hair and roll your hips faster, chasing the scorching need for more. 

He hisses and pushes back against your thrusts, murmuring, “That’s it, grind that pussy on me, make yourself feel good.” 

“Fuck—fuck yes, it feels so fucking good—” 

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, leakin’ all over me. You do love it, don’t you, baby?”

You start to tremble and nod, trying your hardest to whisper when you tell him, “Yes yes yes I do I fucking love it—I wanna come again, can I please come again, please please—” 

“Listen to you. So good, askin’ for permission.” He brings a hand to your face and brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Such a quick learner.” 

“Joel—” 

“Do it. Make yourself come again.”

Something untethers inside you. Heartbeat pounding behind your ears, you work your body against him in jerky movements, each one more delicious than the last. His eyes burn into yours, all heavy-lidded and lust-blown in the darkness, watching your face twist up with pleasure as the hot gooey feeling between your legs stretches wider and wider, then overtakes you completely. 

You give in to it with a shattered breath, burying your face against his shoulder to muffle your moans. He holds you down, making sure you smother your cries in the damp cotton of his t-shirt as wave after electric wave washes over you. 

When your spasms start to peter out, and your rolling hips come to a stop, he releases his stronghold to pet your hair. Your heaving chests meld together, breath syncing up into a steady ebb and flow as he smooths his palm up and down your spine. 

For a moment, it’s just this. Just the soothing motion of him rubbing your back, calming your boneless body. Soft and quiet with everything else stripped away. 

Emotion swells in your chest and tingles up your throat, behind your eyes. You try to hide it, the fact that you’re crying, but it becomes obvious when a sob escapes you. 

Joel shifts a little, then tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. He searches your face and frowns, furrowing his brow. 

“I’m sorry,” you wipe your tears and cast your eyes downward, “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry. I’m stupid.” 

“No—hey, no,” he assures you, “It’s fine.” 

You shake your head. 

“Look at me,” he commands, and when you do, he cups your cheek and holds your gaze, “It-it’s normal to feel… emotional. Really, it’s ok.” 

The warmth and sincerity of this—his touch, his eyes, his words—makes your heart stutter. It curls up inside you and sedates your jumpy nerves. 

You sniffle and nod, “Ok.” 

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he studies you, bringing his hands to your waist. The longer you stare at each other, the more all the subtle signs of his lust come back into focus. How his tongue peaks out to wet his lips when he looks at your mouth. The heavy thudding of his heart. His strained breath and throbbing cock. 

Your gaze drifts to his lips. A needy, aching desire simmers at the base of your spine. It seems wrong to kiss him. More sensual than sexual, rooted in something he will never have for you. But still, you wonder. 

You wonder how soft his plush lips would feel against yours. How he would taste. Whether or not he would use tongue, or teeth, or both. 

Your fingertips twitch hesitantly towards his mouth. He doesn’t pull away or admonish you, even though you give him ample time to protest. When you make contact, smoothing your touch over the pillow of his bottom lip, he murmurs against your fingers, “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m never gonna be, either, I wanna make that clear. That’s not what this is.”  

“I know you’re not my fucking boyfriend, Joel.” You scoff at the thought, “Boyfriend. I don’t want that. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need…” you watch your touch drift from his mouth to his jawline, where you scrape your nails through his scruff, “What I need is someone to fuck the thoughts out of my head.” 

“Fuck the thoughts outta your head,” he repeats, almost a chuckle, “That’s what you need, huh?”

“That’s what you need, too. Isn’t it?” 

Something smolders behind his gaze as he searches your face. 

“You can use me, you know. Take whatever you need from me. Use me like a fuck toy, Joel, I fucking need it.” 

His whole body reacts to your request, muscles flexing taught as he clenches his jaw.

You bat your lashes at him and pull yourself close enough to feel his breath on yours when you ask, “Don’t you need a little fuck toy like me, daddy?” 

“You’re a sick girl, you know that?” 

“You like it.” 

Neither of you can deny the other’s accusation, resulting in a stand-off that tingles beneath your skin and makes your heart pound in your throat. 

Subconsciously, you rock your hips forward and suck in breath when his cock throbs against your clit. He pushes back, flooding your veins with fire, “Are you gonna keep quiet if I fuck you?” 

“Are you gonna shut me up if I can’t?” 

He lets out one single amused chuckle, then asks, “Are you really tryna test me right now?” 

Suppressing a smile, you shake your head. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Something in the way he says it blooms heat in your chest. His tone teasing, almost playful. 

He gives your ass a light smack, then tugs at your underwear, “Take these off.” 

You roll off him onto the mattress and slide them down your legs while he stands to strip naked. Seeing his cock makes your body hum. It stands at attention, bobbing a little when Joel catches you staring. 

Sidling up to the bed, he beckons you closer, so you follow his silent guidance and crawl over to him, wrapping your hand around his thick length. You glance up at him, licking your lips as you await further instructions. 

“Get it nice ‘n’ wet for me.”

Nodding, you bring your mouth to the head of his cock, exploring first with your tongue, licking up the salty dribbles of lust. You taste a hint of yourself on him too, arousal that soaked through his boxers and marked him yours. Temporarily, at least. At least for tonight, or at least for right now. 

A pleased rumble erupts from his chest when you wrap your lips around him and start to slide up and down his shaft. He feels solid and warm and fills your mouth completely. The first time he hits the back of your throat, you gag and pull off him, working him with your hands as you catch your breath. 

“Do it again.” 

You take him in your mouth, rutting up and down a few times before sitting up taller to drive him down your throat. He buries his fists in your hair and thrusts his hips forward, “There we go, that’s it—fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” 

His praise sparks at your core. You whine around his cock and bob against his thrusts. It doesn’t matter that you can’t breathe. You don’t need oxygen, you just need this. The sting of his grip prodding your movements, the raw stretch of him fucking your airway, the wet squelch that fills the room. 

When he yanks your head back and unclogs your throat, you gasp for breath and stroke him with both hands, churning his slick length. Fire roars in his eyes when you look up at him. 

He grabs your chin and husks, “Say thank you.” 

“Thank you.”

He smacks your cheek and grabs your chin again, “Say thank you for fucking my face.” 

“Thank you for fucking my face, I fucking love it—”

“Say please can I have some more.” 

“Please can I have some more, daddy?” 

Stifling a groan, he crams it back in your drooling mouth, down your throat, snapping his hips in sharp, quick thrusts that make you gurgle with pleasure around him. Far away, you hear him panting, “Take it take it take it—”

The chorus makes your body tingle. You think about your mom sleeping in the other room, how there’s just a wall between her and this. How she could wake up at any moment and follow the muffled, hedonistic noises. How she would find Joel balls deep in your mouth and you giving him something she never could: control. 

This time when he pulls you off his cock, he uses his white-knuckle grip on your hair to make you flip over and turn around, ass in the air towards him. 

The head of him nudges up against the tight ring of your asshole. You hear a wet splat, then feel the heat of his spit trickling down between your cheeks. Your body clenches with anticipation as he smears it around. 

“Remember, you gotta relax,” he murmurs, releasing your hair to smooth a palm against your spine. 

You inhale a deep breath and exhale the tension from your muscles, letting your heart melt into the mattress. 

“Good girl,” he arches forward, breaching your entrance. 

The sharp sensation splits you open. It pulls a wanton moan from your lips that rings through the silent apartment like a siren. 

Yanking you up by your hair, Joel secures your back to his humid chest and clasps a hand over your mouth. Stars invade your field of vision as he drives his cock deeper and deeper, only stopping when he can’t go any further. You sob against his palm, so he pulls it down harder, muffling the noise until you stop. 

Everything goes silent and still, but you can’t even bring yourself to worry that you woke her. Not when all you can hear is your thudding heart and his ragged breath, coarse with what you assume is rage or lust or both. Not with his lightning rod cock vibrating hot up your middle. 

It doesn’t matter that she could walk in to find her common-law husband fucking your ass, or that this discovery would burn all your lives to the ground. All you care about is more. More stimulation, more attention, more Joel—more more more—

You try to move your hips in an attempt to create friction, but his vice grip renders you immobile. So you stay in place and try not to make noise as the flames lick at your insides. You squirm and ache and claw at his arms while he muffles your whimpers. 

Then your mom snores in the other room. 

He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gasp for air. 

Thinking you can get ahead of the inevitable scolding, you plead, “I’m sorry—” 

He drags his cock out of your body, then plunges it back inside, all the while hissing, “If you’re gonna be my little fuck toy—” 

“Holy fuck—”

“—You have to be fucking quiet. Do you understand?” 

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand, I’ll do better, I promise—please just fuck me, please please—”

You strangle a moan in your throat when he slips a hand between your legs and draws tedious circles on your clit. 

“Try ‘n’ breathe through it,” he coaches, “I’ll go slow for you this time, ok? Just remember, shut the fuck up and take deep breaths.” 

You suck in air until your chest is full, then release it, restricting its flow through a narrow space between your lips. You do it again. Tension begins to melt from your bones. It has a clarifying effect, allowing you to relish in the heat of his touch. You take another deep breath, only hitting a snag when Joel starts to rock his hips. 

It feels fucking unreal. Rough and raw, the steady drag of his cock fills you with static electricity over and over. 

“Oh fuck—”

“Shhh…”

Your inhale stutters, but you regain control on the exhale. Everything disappears except him. His heated skin sticking to yours. How fucking full he makes you feel with each thrust. The thick swell of pleasure that accumulates every time he flicks his wrist. You surrender to all of it, to Joel, entrusting him with everything except your breath. 

“That’s it, baby, let go.” 

“It feels ssso gooood,” you whisper, head rolling back onto his shoulder, “Nothing’s ever felt this good, holy shit—”

His lips tickle your ear as he purrs, “Such a good little fuck toy, aren’t you, baby?”

You gasp a little when the velvet of his tongue rolls against your pulse. Nodding, you reach back behind his neck to scrape your fingernails through his curls. He does it again, this time sealing his lips to suck on the sensitive skin. Your heart pounds thick and hot through your body. The edges peel back at the corner of your mind. You push back against his thrusts, panting out subdued whimpers as the fire in your belly begins to spread. 

“Do you wanna come?”

“I do, I wanna come—oh my god I wanna come, please make me come, daddy—”

His hand covers your mouth and holds you down so he can fuck you harder, stretching you out wide and filling you deep. He works your clit faster. The bed frame thumps against the wall in a frantic rhythm that matches the wet slap of his thrusts. Tears prick your eyes and heat swells beneath your skin, pressure building more and more until you think you can’t fucking take it anymore—

His palm smothers your moans as you fall apart, breaking into a million pieces and coming back together again with a choked sob. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as his hips snap forward, then stutter to a stop. 

The two of you go slack propping each other up, too loose-limbed and lethargic to peel yourselves away at first. He makes the first move to separate, though, uncovering your mouth to brush the damp hair from your forehead, “You ok?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him instinctively, then second-guess yourself and look up to meet his eyes, “I mean, I don’t know. I think so.” 

He studies you, nodding. 

Hesitation buzzes in your chest when you contemplate whether or not to return his question. It seems unlikely he’d cooperate even if you wanted to know the answer.  So instead, you give him his out. 

“Is this goodnight, then?” 

“Suppose it is.” 

A flicker of something passes between your bodies as you stare at each other. It feels so hot to the touch that you chicken out, glancing away as you whisper, “Will you do something for me before you go?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Tuck me in?” 

The noise that comes out of him is half-grunt, half-chuckle. Joel for, ‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ But he obliges, pulling his soft cock from your body at a mercifully slow speed before allowing you to make yourself comfortable. He sorts out your blanket and drapes it over your body, then starts fishing his clothes off the floor. 

Tugging his shirt over his head, he asks, “Need anything else, princess?” 

You’re sure it’s a dig, but choose to ignore it as you snuggle into the covers and hint, “Don’t make me wait so long next time.” 

He sits down at the edge of your mattress and threads his legs through the boxers, “I’ll make you wait as long as you need to. What else?”

“Mmm. Goodnight kiss?”

“Goodnight kiss,” he scoffs to himself, then looks back over his shoulder at you, “Fine, then I’m goin’ to bed.” 

He turns to face you more directly, folding a knee onto the bed as he leans in and tilts your head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss into your cheek. Even though you wish he had kissed your lips, you close your eyes and savor the affection while you can. 

After murmuring goodnight, Joel leaves. He crawls back into bed with your mother while you memorize the sound of his retreating footsteps.

#joel miller #x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ruthless joel miller #whatsnewalycat writes #pedro pascal smut

[forensicheart]

Holy Hands 18+

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando can't help but do something after he notices your new obsession with his hands

Warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk

A/N: This is inspired by the post I recently reblogged, like goddamn those hands

You had always paid attention to Lando's hands, you paid attention to everything about him of course. You knew he was hot, you knew the fans thought he was hot but when you came across a collage of your boyfriends hands while scrolling through twitter, you found a new appreciation for this particular body part.

You were curled into Lando's side as you both sat on the couch, some show playing in the background as you watched Lando scroll through instagram on his phone, or more importantly, the hands that held his phone. The veins that ran down his arms drawing your attention away from anything else, his long fingers that moved quickly and skillfully as he now started typing. Fingers that left lingering touches on you day and night, had made you feel so good you always craved more.

"Love?" You heard your boyfriend's voice call out to you and you hummed as you drag your eyes away from his hands with a blush. A confused look passed across his face as he started at your flustered face.

"Everything ok?" You were quick to nod not wanting to let Lando into your dirty thoughts. He hesitated but let it be as he nodded going back to his phone. You tried to keep your thoughts at bay this time as you drew your attention to the tv. The distraction helped too until you felt a hand reach for your thigh, thumb rubbing in circles and you took a deep breath as Lando tightened his grip slightly. Ignoring the feeling of his hand on your body you tried to understand the story line of whatever you were watching until you felt Lando's hand begin to move more, running up and down your thigh seemingly innocent. Your eyes darted to where his hand sat, seeing the way his veins were more prominent than before, his fingers stretched out and your mind drifted back to those dirty thoughts.

"My hands huh?" His voice made you jump slightly this time, almost forgetting he was there and you were lost in your thoughts. You feigned confusion looking up at him and tilting your head, knowing all to well that your face was flushed and your look faltering.

"That's what got you all flustered before, whats got you blushing now. Right baby?" You wanted to pull a poker face shake your head but you knew the redness of your face would never allow that as you were caught in the act of admiring Lando's hands. So you simply nodded your head, turning it to face the tv once more as you avoided Lando's gaze. You knew he would have that stupid smirk if you looked at him and you were right. His hand grasped your chin and forced you to face him making you see the large smirk on his lips.

"Use your words baby"

"Your hands made me flustered" You didn't think Lando's smirk could grow any more but you were proven wrong.

"And why's that? Were you thinking about them? Them touching you? Making you feel good?" Lando had no shame in his words as his voice lowered huskily, looking you directly in the eyes as he spoke, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"I was" You admitted to him, hoping he wouldn't ask for anymore detail but you were wrong once again.

"Tell me exactly what you were thinking about baby" You swallowed as you avoided his gaze answering in a near whisper.

"Thinking about having your hands on my body, how you use your hands to make me feel good. Your fingers inside of me"

"Well maybe I should make those thoughts a reality, yeah?" Lando waited for your words of consent and once you breathed out a soft yes clothes began getting removed from your body. Once undressed you were pushed down from your seated position on the couch so Lando could place himself above you.

"So gorgeous" He complimented as his eyes raked down your body before he put his lips on yours in a heated kiss. Hands beginning to roam your body, moving down your body stopping to play with your breasts, pinching and squeezing making you let out a moan into Lando's mouth. With a hand now gripping your neck the other continued to make it's way further down your body until it was almost at the spot you wanted most.

"So wet for you baby, after only a few thoughts of my hands" He teased fingers swiping the slick on your folds making you let out a whine. You wanted him inside you, those hands you begun to admire so much more to make you feel good.

"Please Lando" Lando tilted his head as he looked at you, feigning innocence as you had before.

"Please what?" You huffed knowing that he knew exactly what you wanted and he was right, he had worked you up without doing anything but infesting your thoughts.

"Please. I want your fingers inside of me" The look of innocence disappeared in an instance from Lando's face as he winked at you.

"As you wish baby" And with that he was doing just as you desired, your mouth falling open as one finger slipped inside of you. A second was quick to join as Lando worked his magic. Fingers thrusting in and out at a fast pace, curling every now and again as he reached that perfect spot. You didn't try and stop the sounds that were escaping you knowing Lando loved to hear just how good he made you feel.

"You like that? You like how I can make you feel this good just by using my hands?" The hand that you had forgotten was wrapped around your neck tightened as he spoke making you let out a strangled moan of his name.

"Yes, yes, I love it. Please don't stop" You could feel yourself quickly approaching your climax as Lando added another finger into you, his pace never faltering but only getting faster as his long fingers reached that perfect spot inside you each time. Your own hands moved to grab at Lando's shoulders, the moans falling from your lips only becoming louder and louder as you pulled him closer to your body. Knowing you were close Lando added a final finger leaning down to kiss you harshly as you begun to tense.

"Let go for me baby, all over my fingers" With his words you couldn't hold on any longer and you clamped down on Lando's fingers as you came letting him ride you through your high. He removed his finger raising his hand to his awaiting mouth as he sucked his fingers clean.

Fuck. Round two it is then.

#writing #characters #love #imagines #requests are open #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando #lando x reader #lando norris #smut #f1 #f1 lando norris #hands

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Warnings: smut, masterbation, send nudes, quick mention of breeding

Sequel to: Think of Me When You Cum Later

Almost an entire day passed without a word from you. Smug as he could fucking be, Simon was certain that it had everything to do with his little impromptu video he sent keeping your hands far to busy to type and God did that fuel him with a new secret passion; perhaps he’d have to send you another before he got back, just to be sure that you were a complete goddamn mess for him when you came to pick him up from base.

If he was really lucky and did his job right you’d have to pull over on the ride home just so he could fuck your brains out in the back seat of your car, so needy you wouldn’t be able to wait the short ride back to his place. You’d both have those window panes fogged up real fucking quick.

But there was one thing the self-assured military man forgot about and that was that you were never one to let him go empty handed. The moment Simon had sent his bit of personal porn for your enjoyment, he should have known that you would not want him to miss out on something special for himself; he needed to see with his own two eyes just how much you needed him. And since he had only made that ache worse for you, he had to have a bit of it back.

It was only fair after all.

So eventually once you were able to clear your head and calm your raging heartbeat, you got to work plotting. It had to be a cinematic masterpiece, something so good that he would definitely have to save for private viewings over and over again whenever he was away; you never did anything half-assed and since it was for him it had to be perfect.

The day had been uneventful and that gave ample time for Simon’s devious mind to wander back to you, wondering how many times you’d viewed that spicy clip and how absolutely soaked your panties were from it. Something about the silence from his phone only led him to fantasize about you being nothing more than a puddle in the middle of his bed, legs shaking from how many times you’d cum.

God, to be a fly on the wall he would have given anything.

BZZ…BZZ…

As if prompted by his thoughts alone, his phone buzzed to life as he sat in his bunk wiling away the hours until sleep finally decided to take over. He pulled small rectangle out of his bag that lay beside his bed with a cocky grin plastered to his lips, ready to read the long string of texts about how his distraction was more than satisfactory. The older phone that Simon liked to take into the field didn’t allow him to preview messages before he opened them, so he had no idea what awaited inside until he clicked the icon; his jaw nearly hit the floor and he had to immediately look around him to make sure that there was no one skulking about that could possibly catch a glimpse of his screen.

This was for him and him alone.

It was a picture… not what he was expecting, but he should have known better after his little stunt that you were bound to do something like this. The message directly underneath it read: “Shit, baby, I can’t seem to stop watching your video. Look what you’re doing to me.”

Nearly choking on his saliva, his heart stopped and forcefully restarted in his chest at the glory of image before his eyes. Goddamn he could not pull his sight away; you had to have gone to a lot of trouble to set this all up, but fuck was it worth it just so that he could see you like this.

There you were spread eagle across his bed, completely naked save for the singular hair tie dangling from your wrist that had become a staple of your everyday attire. Your hand was precisely placed between your thighs, fingers clearly buried in that juicy cunt of yours. Head fallen back, presumably eyes shut tight, tits up with your nipples hard, goddamn you were the prettiest fucking picture he had ever fucking seen.

He was falling head over heels all over again.

The pressure of his cock straining harshly against the zipper of his pants became incredibly painful all of a sudden and he rushed to undo the restraining fabric in a hurry; such a visceral effect that you always seemed to produce in him no matter how many times he saw you bare. Pulling the waistband open he lay there with nothing but his boxers to keep him covered.

It had been a long minute since your body was available for his viewing pleasure and he sucked every last drop of that photo down, transfixed as if he had been put under hypnosis. Eyes scanning every inch of that tiny picture glaring back at him through the darkness, the ache in his chest grew as did the heat so that even though his shirt was off he was still boiling to the touch; fuck he needed you so bad it was agony. There was no lie when Simon had said he was desperate to make you cum, he would give anything to feel you writhe beneath him right now, body burning as he put all his focus into making you slip over the edge as many times as humanly possibly.

Whatever he had to do, whatever sin he had to commit that would get him to you fast enough, he would in an instant just to ride straight to hell between those luscious thighs.

Satisfying your temptation was worth the damnation.

How much time had passed since he become consumed by your image he didn’t know, but now there was something on his phone that was beginning to download. His heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears as he waited on baited breath, barely moving a muscle in anticipation for whatever it was you had sent him. Auburn eyes were boring holes into his phone as he watched that slow fucking progress bar inch its way forward at a turtles pace; Christ, it was going to make him drop dead from the excited expectation of what was to come once it was done.

BZZ... BZZ…

Finally, after what felt like a fucking eternity, the damned thing was finished and ready for him. A video was what waited for his viewing pleasure, slightly longer than the one he had sent the night before. With shaky, unsteady hands Simon dived head first for his headphones in his bag without a second thought, nearly ripping the canvas apart trying to pry them out as fast as his hands would allow. Shoving the buds into his ears as his pulse raced through his veins, he pushed play...

And his blood pressure shot through the goddamn roof.

“Ahh, Simon…” your breathy moan hit his ears first and his brain flat-lined as he nearly came just from just the sound of your sweet tone calling out his name. How long had it been since he had heard you mewling his name in the throws of passion? So damn long it should have been a crime.

The way you had the camera set up he could see it all, the perfect goddamn angle as if he were sitting in the room with you, watching as you touched yourself. Why the ever loving fuck could he not reach through the screen and get to you? That was the worst part of it all; he desperately needed to be the one to make you produce all those pretty sounds.

“Fuck, Simon, I miss you so much,” you continued, your body jerking as your fingers continued to dance around your clit, your toes curling around the sheets. “I’ve been so empty it hurts… need you to fill me full again baby. Reach that ache deep inside that I can’t seem to get. It’s only getting worse without you.”

Simon’s cock throbbed forcefully, pressing harshly against his lower abdomen as the video continued to play; it felt as if he might burst just from the sudden rush of blood to that beastly appendage. Swallowing down a stray groan that threatened to escape his lips and give him away, he nearly gagged on it just to keep it down, but fuck did he want to let loose. He was being consumed by his desire: skin on fire, eyes transfixed on your gorgeous rocking form, mouth agape as he breathed heavy, he took a hold of his engorged member and pulled it free from his boxers before he began to stroke the length; there was no way he could sit here and watch you like this without touching himself.

Back on the screen, your legs were jerking sporadically as you pictured Simon there with you, pumping in and out of you with all that he had. “Need your fat fucking cock to stretch me out good,” you whimpered pathetically, using all that pent up frustration to aid in your performance; it was torment. “Oh God baby, I need it so bad…can’t take it.”

Fuck it hurt to hear your need and not be able to do a damned thing about it right then and there. He swore to himself that by the time he finally got his hand around those curves he was gonna fill you so full that your pussy wouldn't know what to do without him inside you.

Simon hissed under his breath as his grip tightened around his dripping, aching cock, rapid strokes gaining speed so as to perfectly match your rhythm just so that he could trick his brain into imagining himself pumping in and out of your tight, wet cunt. It paled in comparison to the real thing because there was no replicating how you felt wrapped around him, but it would do for now. Together you both worked yourselves on opposite sides of the screen, just trying your hardest to ease the torturous longing.…as if fucking each other across the space between you.

You were completely losing yourself in the moment, unable to hold back all those needs that had been put aside as he was gone. The image of Simon touching himself to the thought of you, his words sounding so desperate, played over in your mind as you worked yourself and you could not stop the way it made you feel, the yearning need for him to completely and utterly wreck your body to the point that even the idea of being with anyone else would never be able to come close to what he could give.

“Shit Simon, I want…

I want…" you had to say it, it was gonna come out anyway…

"I want you to breed me,” you said stammered out the plea as your free hand massaged over your breasts. That warmth was building, rising in the pit of your stomach as you said those forbidden words aloud. “I need you to breed me good Simon, make sure I’m ruined for anyone else. Oh God, please, baby. I need it, I need you.”

Christ that was his fucking kryptonite, his Achilles heel, the one thing is the whole wide world that could stop him dead in his tracks and bring him to his proverbial knees. The minute those delicious words exited your mouth, there was no stopping his ecstasy from overwhelming him to the point that he could he was gone.

Oh he was gonna make sure that sweet little cunt had his name written all fucking over it.

Nope that was it, what little straggling bit of sanity he had left had flown and he could not hold back the pressure any longer from reaching its peak and violently throwing him off the ledge. With a strenuous grunt that echoed in his chest and a few hard tuggs up and down his shaft he came with such force that his body shook his entire cot as he stroked out every last bit of milky white fluid from the tip. His cum coating his lower abdomen, getting caught in the sparse bit of hair the covered the area was making a mess, but he didn’t care; the euphoria currently surging through his veins like electricity clouded any negative thoughts.

The sound of your orgasm your mewls as your rocketed through you played into his ears, the perfect soundtrack to finish out the rest of his own pleasure. You fell back against the mattress, chest heaving with exhausted breaths as your legs shook and relaxed stretched out as the video finished.

Fuck, he was gonna need a cigarette after that, his body still vibrating with the sheer intensity of it all.

BZZ…BZZ…

The phone vibrated one last time, a final text to send him off into the night.

“I hope it was just as good for you as it was for me,” it said, followed by a sneaky winky face. “Sleep tight.”

If he thought he was missing you before, but that was nothing compared to now. It was overwhelming the need he had to have you making those sounds for him again. You had better be ready to getting the car cleaned and detailed because there was no way you weren’t going to be pinned down in the back seat after that one…because you had just made that ache so much worse.

Part 3:

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simin ghost riley #simon smut #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #ghost smut

[flowerfan2]

Steve falls hard, is the thing.  At least, he does this time.  He knows it’s crazy, that Eddie has only been out of the hospital for a few weeks, that Steve has only really known him for a few days more than that. But he knows more than most people that life is full of cliffs and dangers and if there’s happiness to be had, he’s ready to take it.

It happens so quickly that he speeds right past any potential sexuality crisis, doesn’t pass go, just realizes one evening while he’s tucking a blanket around Eddie’s feet when he dozes off on the couch that he’s in love.   He knows it’s real, because Eddie’s feet are frankly stinky since it’s still hard for him to get around, and yet Steve’s content to curl up with Eddie’s feet in his lap and make sure they stay toasty warm.

He tells Robin that night, and once she’s finished swatting him with a nearby magazine and then hugging him until his ribs squeak, she asks him what he’s going to do about it.  “Tell him,” Steve answers, and Robin stares at him as if he’s grown two heads (he hasn’t, he checked).  “Just like that?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Know any good reason to wait?” Steve asks, and when Robin shakes her head no, he smiles.

The next day Steve puts on a clean pair of khakis and his favorite striped polo.  He ever so briefly considers wearing something not so preppy, but he doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate anything less than the truth.  The real Steve, polo shirts and all.  Begin as you mean to continue, and all that.

When he arrives at the trailer the next day (yes, that same goddamned trailer, flimsy and broken but in somewhat better shape than it was a few weeks ago), Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, then remembers he’s supposed to use his key so that Eddie doesn’t have to get up off the couch too often.  He juggles the grocery bag in his arms and finds the key, glad to see when he gets the door open that Eddie hasn’t been disturbed.  In fact, it looks like he’s fast asleep.

Steve puts the groceries away and settles at the end of the couch like he always does, pulling Eddie’s feet onto his lap, and paging through a comic book.  A little while later Eddie stirs, blinking his eyes open and smiling at Steve.

They decide to watch a movie, but after a few minutes Eddie complains that his neck hurts from lying in the same position all day.  Steve helps him switch around so that his head is at the other end of the couch, and Eddie continues to gripe, but he’s smiling the whole time.  Steve can tell he likes the attention, likes when Steve slides an arm around his back and gently rearranges his limbs.  Steve likes it too.

Steve fetches some snacks from the kitchen and returns to find Eddie shuffling himself around again, claiming that the new position isn’t working either.  Soon they’re sitting next to each other, legs stretched out on a pillow on the coffee table, the television directly in front of them.  Steve is getting a suspicious feeling about the whole thing, and it only intensifies when Eddie gives a little sigh and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Thanks,” Eddie says softly.  “This is perfect.”

Steve’s not sure how much time goes by – time is weird when you’re practically holding your breath – but when he tilts his head to look at Eddie, Eddie’s looking right at him.  

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m falling for you, you know.”

Eddie bites his lip and smiles, his nose crinkling adorably.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He turns back to the television and snuggles in closer against Steve’s side.  “It’s good, ‘cause, you know.  Me too.”

______

You can read all of my Steddie ficlets in one place on A03 here.

#Stranger Things #Stranger things fic #Steve Harrington #Steddie #Eddie Munson #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

2.2k / 16 / gym buddy Gaz, part 4 (takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz and distracting Gaz as he's counting reps and teasing your gym buddy Gaz a little too much)

...

You were always so goddamn distracting. Now that he has you, he’s gonna make it worth his time. He’s gonna get his mouth on every teasing part of you. Everything under those form-fitting workout clothes. And he’s gonna do it right here against the shower wall.

He pulls at your hips, grunting in pleasure as you grind against him, squeezing him back. You explore every bit of him that's exposed and then a few bits that aren't. It feels greedy to take every inch of him you can reach. You shouldn't be doing this. It's not like you to go so far with someone you're not dating. But Gaz is... God, he's something else. You'd swear right now he's the only man on earth who deserves your attention.

Gaz grunts with approval against your mouth and presses you against the shower wall more forcefully, burying his face into the side of your neck. You shove your hips against him harder, wanting more of him.

He slips his hand into your shorts to stroke your inner thigh. You let out a stuttering breath. Your head falls back into the tile wall with a thump, your legs twitching.

He chuckles, shifting you so he's pressing you up into the wall with his hip, giving himself space to rub his fingers into the crotch of your thong and collect the slick on your folds. God, the sounds you're making. He'd be enjoying them even more if you weren't biting your lip, trying to muffle yourself.

There's less foot traffic in the women's showers, yes, but even the sound of the water echoes around the tile room. People passing through the halls outside will hear.

The risk is nothing to him. Just a little extra thrill. He could have you two separated in half a second. But you've never done something this risky before, have you? To you, this is dangerous.

Keeping you steady on his hips, he grabs your jaw and hooks the edge of his thumb on your incisors to open your mouth up.

"Careful not to let them hear," he murmurs, enjoying the helpless need in your eyes. His thumb tightens over the edge of your lip. "You're gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" he whispers. "Be nice and quiet?"

You return his heated stare, struggling to keep your throat closed around the sounds threatening to tear out.

He sees the challenge in your eyes and smirks back. "Be quiet or someone will hear us, and we'll have to stop. And if we have to stop before we get what we want," he murmurs into your jaw, "if you make me wait one more goddamn day to get inside you, you'll find out just how depraved I can be next time I get you alone. How's that sound?"

nsfw ⬇

His fingers press down harder into the crux of your thighs and you fight another open-mouthed groan.

"Always trying to lock horns with me," he breathes, pretending he doesn't love it. He works your panties to the side, and when he feels how hot and wet you are inside, he feels lightheaded. "Think you're enjoy acting like a challenge." He shifts his grip, pressing two fingers against your slit. "Think you're a little... a proper little... fuck..."

He pushes his fingers inside you, watching your mouth fall open around his thumb with a graphic moan. He slots his open mouth over yours and swallows it. He's half-convinced this is a dream when you keep moaning, high and urgent, into his mouth, desperately bumping your hips against his fingers.

He's real fucking close to losing the little bit of control he still has. Real fucking close to just ripping your shorts off you and taking you against the tile. He’s trying, but he doesn't know how much longer he can last when you’re riding his hand like that.

You bury your fingers in his hair, desperate to get closer to him. You're lost in what he's doing to you. You swear you're on the edge of whiting out when you hear another set of footsteps and--to your horror--the door unlatching and creaking open.

You gasp, dropping away from Gaz instantly. Trying to, at least, as he crowds you almost protectively against the shower wall. Luckily, there's another wall between you and the door. Unluckily, it's only about neck high for you, which means Gaz rises head and shoulders above it. You quickly push him down to his knees, eyes going to the door as a woman pokes her head through.

“Hello?”

Gaz catches his breath, his hands tense against the tile on either side of your legs. You try desperately not to dwell on how his warm breath fans over your stomach.

"Anyone in here?" says the woman. "Oh! Hi, sorry," she says, "have you seen a pink water bottle?"

She steps all the way inside. You tense. Gaz stays crouched behind the wall; if she keeps walking, she’ll see him.

"I, uh, no, I don't think so," you stutter out. She hardly seems to hear you, looking this way and that, ponytail bobbing behind her. Wow, she's cute. No, wait, you're panicked and horny and unable to focus on getting her out of here.

Her eye skims over a few other stalls and swings toward you. She takes two steps toward the back of the room--toward Gaz, crouching by your feet; Gaz, whose fingers are beginning to crawl up your legs--and if she takes one more step she's going to see oh God--

"Can you hand me that towel?" you blurt out, pointing to a used towel someone left in a heap on the other side of the room, behind her. Her head swivels back. "I could, uh, dry off and help you look," you add.

The woman reacts as if you’ve just given her an extremely normal request. She doubles back and grabs the towel. Then she makes a sound of surprise. "Oh, here it is." She picks up a pink bottle from the counter behind the towel. You hadn’t even seen it. "Thanks anyway."

"No problem," you say quickly. The rough, hot surface of Gaz's tongue runs against your waistline. You push his face away and feel him growl. His hands fist in the hem of your shorts.

You're beaming this woman psychic signals to get the fuck out of here before Gaz decides he doesn't care if he has an audience or not, but she doesn't pick up.

"Hey, don't I see you around some mornings? You and that guy?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah," you manage, just as Gaz yanks your shorts all the way down, thong and all, leaving you totally bare in one swift movement. "Y-Yeah. Kyle."

"Right, SAS guy. Are you and him, like, you know?"

You choke out half a laugh. "We're just friends."

If you weren't being driven half out of your fucking mind by Gaz's thumbs spreading your core open where you stand, this line of conversation would concern you.

He licks a long, greedy stripe up your core. You jerk and nearly stumble back, but he grabs your ass and pushes you harder into his face.

You swear you’re going to kill him slowly.

She doesn't notice--maybe it's the steam fogging up the room. You let out a shallow breath, relieved, until she doubles back and grabs the towel you'd haphazardly pointed at earlier. Oh, shit, she's bringing it to you. She's walking over.

You hope to God you look anything resembling normal when she walks right up to the neck-high tile wall separating you from her.

"Just wondering, you know?”

She takes the towel by one side and unfurls it. Then she pinches the corners together, casually and methodically refolding it in half once and then again as Gaz tongue-fucks you two feet below her line of sight.

“I mean, you're super pretty. I bet you have to fight these men off with a stick just to get an afternoon to yourself, right? But if you need a hand..."

She lays the neatly folded towel over the tile wall. You're forced to lean back just to allow her the space, and Gaz squeezes your ass even harder like he thinks you're trying to escape. He closes your clit lightly, warningly between his teeth, and you bite your bottom lip so hard you taste blood.

When you say nothing, she smiles—the kind of polite smile you give someone you don't know too well—and then turns and heads for the door. "Or, well, you know what I mean. Later."

The moment the door latches closed, Gaz shoves you against the wall of the stall, grabs your thigh, and lifts it over his shoulder. You gasp, grabbing hold of his shoulders and shying away from where his face is still so, so close to your core. He keeps his arm curled around your thigh, sandwiching it between his bicep and his ear.

"Are you fucking crazy?" you hiss.

“Helluva drug,” he mutters into your inner thigh. "Was that cute little blonde hitting on you?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Gaz."

"Mm. Liar." He nips your thigh hard enough to sting, then licks the spot to sooth it. "But you got that whole 'I-don't-mix-business-and-pleasure' thing, so what chance does she have?" He burrows his smirking mouth into the crease of your thigh and takes a slow teasing lick along your insides.

You cry out, leaning back against the wall and grinding your hips against his face.

He reaches his hand up under your thigh, grabbing your ass and pulling you more steeply against his mouth. Your legs splay out involuntarily against his hand and shoulder.

"Gaz-- fuck!" you curse, trying in vain to keep your voice down. "I'm gonna-- I have to--"

Gaz's arm tightens around your thigh. "You're gonna quiet down or I'll make you," he murmurs, eyes molten. He’s a hypocrite, telling you to keep it down while he slides his fingers back into you and pumps them in and out in earnest. He waits until you're writhing against the wall, half-pleas falling out of your mouth, to latch onto your clit again.

You come apart right there, grabbing at his shoulders until your nails score lines into his skin. Your body holds that delicious tension, oxytocin flooding your senses like steam, too far away to notice the way Gaz is growling softly into your core or the way he's fighting not to rut against the floor himself.

When you come back to your senses, Gaz settles back on his knees, looking up at you from between your legs with pupils blown wide.

"You sounded like you needed that," he says, his voice a little hoarse and his breathing uneven.

Still blinking stars out of your eyes, you stoop down to grab the gym shorts and thong pooling around your feet.

Gaz grabs your hand. "Leave them on the floor."

He pulls you down to your knees so you're straddling his lap. His hard length rubs against you through his shorts. He wraps one hand in your hair and the other around your hip, holding all your weight on him as he kisses you hungrily. You twist your hips skittishly, trying not to grind down on his lap as much as he's pulling you down into it. You shouldn't be doing this here. You were nearly caught already.

"Let's go to your room," you pant out of the corner of his mouth. "C'mon."

"I like it right here," Gaz purrs, his voice husky and low. He licks his lips, hovering just close enough that his tongue grazes your lips but his mouth doesn't meet yours. His hips keep moving, rubbing into you. "Right here."

You bite your torn lip, your mind sluggish with lust. "Mm... but..."

"You're not gonna make me wait," he growls, his hand in your hair tightening. "Not after all this time. Not after I took care of you. Not after you came on my face. Right?"

"But people--" You stutter out into a gasp as Gaz flips you over, his body curving around yours as your palms find the wet tile floor. "People will hear--"

"You want me to stop?"

You huff. "No."

He smirks. "You've never done something like this before, have you? Lucky me."

"You’re such a perv."

He runs his hands up your back and down your sides, taking in the feeling of your wet skin, your goosebumps, the flare of your hips as they press back against his. Goddamn, you're a sight. He's imagined this a dozen times, but having you in his hands... yeah, no, you'd never make it all the way back to his room if he were on your heels.

He bends down, his breathing ragged in your ear as he ruts up against you slowly, trying to pace himself. "And you're letting me do what I want to you right here on the bathroom floor, sweetheart. What does that say about you?"

You swallow, squeezing your thighs together.

He strips off his shorts and presses his bare cock up against you. Your breath hitches—you’re still so sensitive, and it's driving him mad. He's aching to feel you around him and see how expressive you really are.

"Nobody will hear us, yeah?" he murmurs. “And if they do, they’ll turn their heads and pretend they didn’t." He chuckles, heat bleeding into his deep voice as he presses the tip of his cock against your folds. "Unless you’re afraid someone will recognize your voice. Someone who might find out you're the little minx getting nailed in the showers.”

"Gaz, shut-- ah--" Your voice breaks as he ruts his hips forward just slightly, beginning to split you open.

"Better keep quiet," he murmurs, a wicked thrill running down his spine at the thought, “or they'll hear me making you mine.”

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

#gym partner gaz #mine #story #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz Garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x you #gaz smut #gaz x reader smut #cod smut #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader