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tenelkadjowrites · 9 months

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Attention - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🤳 Summary: Your attraction to Hwa, a camboy you enjoy watching late at night, unexpectedly spills into the real world.

🤳 Word count: 17.5k

🤳 Genre & warnings: smut one shot. camboy seonghwa with inexperienced reader. fem pronouns for reader. depictions of cigarette smoking. jerking off. biting, reader receiving. oral sex, both reader receiving and giving. messy blowjob with some gagging. 69. reader swallows. lots of dirty talk, reader is called "whore", "slut", and "good girl". fingering. pussy spanking. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

Snuggling down into your bed clutching your phone, you turn on your side and look at the time. It’s late, past midnight. You should be sleeping but you’re wired, too awake from work. The blueish glow of your phone casts a translucent tint to your skin.

You’re scrolling through Instagram but you know where you really want to go. Even though you’re entirely alone, you still are embarrassed while closing out of the app and bringing up the site. There is something tinged with desperation every time you go to his page. The feeling is even worse if you spend money; come morning, you scold yourself, the same lecture every single time about needing to go get laid or find a guy nearby to at least have a good time with.

At least it would be better than throwing money at a cam boy, you argue, and cheaper to boot. Yet the promise never seems to stick. Sure, you might go a week, even two, before you end up on his page. But you always crack and crawl back.

You aren’t even sure if he would be live tonight. But it’s Friday night and the chances are higher than usual that he might be. Some part of you hopes that he is, the other part of you dreads it. You ignore both emotions, navigating to his page and clicking on it.

The profile loads – catboyhwa1117 – and there is a tiny green dot in the corner of his photo, indicating he is live. Your heart skips a beat while entering the stream.

It connects, the picture is grainy for a few seconds and then snaps into clarity.

“No, it’s supposed to rain tonight,” Hwa is saying in that deep familiar voice of his, “Supposed to rain all weekend.”

He’s outside, going for a walk, most likely to grab a cigarette because he’s said before his roommate doesn’t want any smoking in the apartment. It’s too dark to make his face out but you can see the outline of the buildings behind him with their small windows glowing like fireflies in the dark.

“Wait, I’m gonna stop here cuz the café is closed,” He says and there is a shuffling of his phone, a blur of streetlights and then it comes to a rest propped up on the table, “Okay, that works.”

You can see him now, your heart constricting enough that a tide of embarrassment hits you in the chest over having such a reaction to someone you don’t actually know.

There are a couple of things that make following Hwa on his cam for a year now both mystifying and agonizing. The first is that there is nothing about his appearance that usually lends itself to your type of guy. He smokes, which you typically find off putting, he has a ton of tattoos, his tongue is pierced, and he wears a lot of jewelry. He wears thin black t-shirts and jeans that hang low off his slender hips, sometimes even crop tops that show off his stomach and abs. He fits the stereotype of bad boy almost painfully so which would also be a turn off if it was apparent that nothing about it felt false in all the streams of his you’ve watched (which are numerous).

The second thing is that you live in the same city.

You didn’t know this at first when watching his streams. You stumbled across his profile late one night when you were exceptionally lonely and looking for any sort of human connection. There was something oddly captivating about his appearance, the way he talked to everyone as if he personally knew them and of course, how he looked when he decided to show off his body that made you weak in the knees. But the more you watched Hwa, the more you recognized places like the corner shop he’d pop into it, the backdrop of buildings behind him, the occasional bar he would go into to stream himself having a drink. The definite proof came one night when a popular musician came to town and he got stuck in the crowds after the show let out.

That made watching Hwa a little too real. The possibility of running into him left you both terrified and exhilarated. You never dreamt of trying to find his location when he was streaming because that felt way too creepy. Admitting to Hwa that you tracked him down on a stream meant that you watched him touch himself on his shows and have seen him naked before and there was no way in hell you could look that man in the face and let him know that. No, better to leave it up to the universe than tempting fate yourself.

There is a spark as Hwa lights up his cigarette, leaning close to the camera. The lighting here is better and you can see a silver necklace dangling in front of his chest. He’s wearing just a thin sleeveless black shirt tonight, exposing his toned arms which have a random assortment of tattoos on them. His jewelry is gaudy, big heavy ugly rings on his long and slender fingers. His black nail polish is chipping and he doesn’t seem to care. His cheekbones could cut glass and his eyelashes are so long that you’re kinda jealous.

Even if I did run into him, he wouldn’t look twice at me, you think, knowing that your fashion sense is next to nonexistent and your superpower is the ability to blend into the background of any event and have no one notice you especially someone like Hwa.

“Someone asked what we’re doing tonight,” Hwa says, his eyes scanning chat, “Do we ever do anything? ‘Are you going to jerk off tonight’ asked someone else. Frankly, I love the enthusiasm so I’ll consider it. ‘Is your band going to do a show soon’. I’m not in a band but I appreciate the conclusion you leapt to based off my appearance. I think I would look good in a band, not gonna lie.”

You occasionally type in chat, too shy even through a screen to interact with Hwa regularly. That’s another reason you spend most of your time alone – your overpowering shyness that you can never seem to overcome even in chat rooms.

There is another word that comes to mind when you watch Hwa’s streams – he’s what your friends would label a bit of a fuckboy. He knows he’s attractive, he’s confident to the point of arrogance, and is candid about how much he enjoys sex. Basically, if he wasn’t on your phone screen, you would steer clear of him out of fear that you would be unable to keep up with his pace and experience.

But since he is just on your phone screen…well, it’s okay to watch from afar.

“No, I’m going back to my place after this. I just needed a smoke and wanted to go for a walk, figured I’d say hi to everyone,” Hwa goes, leaning back against the metal chair. His black hair falls in front of his eyes a little and he pushes it away quickly. “Is there a reason everyone is hornier tonight than normal?” He isn’t wrong, the entire chat is filled with people simping harder than usual for him.

“Full moon,” You type after hesitating for a few seconds.

“BubblegumHeart said it’s the full moon,” He reads, sending a jolt through you as he says your username, “I think that one has a lot of merit. More merit than half of the other shit you guys are sending like it’s my sleeveless shirt.”

In all honesty, it most likely is the sleeveless shirt, you think.

Hwa waves the smoke out of his face, taking one long drag off the cigarette before smushing it against the table and standing up. You’re staring at his black jeans hanging loosely off his hips, a belt thrown lazily around his delicate waist and can feel your thighs clench. You don’t know why some random person online can make you this turned on and no one in reality can. Your sexual experience is pretty thin but even the few encounters you’ve had don’t make you as turned on as watching Hwa just casually existing.

He picks up the camera, bringing his face back into view. Not for the first time, you find yourself admiring how plump his lips are and how occasionally a streetlight catches the tongue piercing when he talks and it glimmers for a brief millisecond. You’ve wondered before if the piercing would make him going down on you a different experience from your other ones.

Both in the stream and in your bedroom, you hear a crack of thunder in the distance. Hwa looks over his shoulder, making a face.

“Guess I better walk faster,” He remarks.

You don’t type again in chat as he heads to his apartment. The time spent getting back to his place is mostly him flirting with people in the chat, typical of his streams. People toss money his way for more specific attention. If there is one thing Hwa is good at, it’s making everyone who throws money in his direction feel special. The attention is fleeting and means nothing but for those few moments where he gives a thoughtful response or more intense flirting; it makes everything else fade to the background. That’s why you’re here, after all, and why you’ve given him money yourself.

Back at his apartment, the camera is covered until he gets into his bedroom to give his roommate respect and privacy. You know nothing about his roommate besides they don’t want him smoking in the apartment. Once Hwa is back in his bedroom, the phone is plopped onto its stand showing off his bed and large computer set up. He’s mentioned before he makes music in his spare time (synthwave, if you remember correctly, which is how the rumor he is in a band got started) and uses his computer to do it.

Hwa seems to live permanently in mood lighting. A purple lava lamp is glowing on his desk, his computer has those light up rainbow keys you typically only see on the ratemysetup subreddit, and he flicks on one of those projector lights that sends hazy stars slowly across the ceiling, also in purple. You don’t think you’d recognize him in anything other than the dim lighting of bars, coloured lights or the glimmer from the moon.

“Alright, sorry everyone but I’m switching to members only,” He says to the camera and your heart skips a beat, “If you wanna stick around, you can subscribe.”

Hwa exclusively switched to members only streams when he started doing the sort of thing that makes your brain melt. Of course, you had subscribed around eight months ago in a fit of weakness and desire. The stream switches over to members only and you find yourself sitting up a little more in bed, eyes glued to the small screen of your phone.

Hwa is sitting at the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he reads the chat. “‘Tell us about the last person you fucked’, no, I don’t talk about anything I do off camera with people. They didn’t agree to that. You guys know the rules, you’re just all rowdy tonight. Maybe this will calm you all down.”

He stands up, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it onto the bed. You swallow hard, staring at Hwa shirtless. Your favourite thing about him like this is the snake tattoo that starts just above his hip bone, circles around his torso, goes up along his back before looping back onto his chest and ends with the snake head just underneath his collarbone. It’s black with hints of red, gorgeous against his skin and incredibly sexy for reasons you don’t understand. The first time you saw it, you almost fell out of bed and now you cling to any time he shows it off.

Hwa is playing up the audience, knowing damn well that taking off his shirt won’t do a thing to settle anyone down, yourself included. Even though your logical mind knows better, you find yourself tossing him a few dollars to tell him how good he looks. When he says thanks, you squirm in bed, resisting the urge to touch yourself already.

He pulls the belt off his pants, dropping it to the floor. His pants slide down another inch, exposing the top of his hip bones. Hwa seems to enjoy showing off on camera, getting off on the attention people give him whenever he decides to jerk off for everyone. You’d pass away before ever doing something like that in front of strangers but his confidence is appealing in a new way. You find yourself attracted to everything Hwa does even though you’ve never looked at guys like him before.

“‘Can I hire you to fuck me’ no, you cannot but I appreciate the money,” Hwa says, unzipping his pants and lowering them to show off his boxers.

You can see the bulge of his already hard cock and your hand wiggles down to the band of your own underwear. You can’t believe how turned on you are or how badly you want him, this man you’ll never have, this man who will never notice your existence outside of a throwaway line uttered to you during a stream.

He runs his hand down the front of his boxers, fondling himself. The rings glitter in soft lights of his room as his cock grows harder. You think about being on your knees and taking Hwa in your mouth, wondering what it would be like to have him make a mess of your face with his cum while he talks dirty in that low voice of his. When it came to Hwa, you wanted to him fuck you in ways you hadn’t thought about before; it was as if you would do anything to be his dirty little whore.

You end up giving him more money just to tell him how much you want to suck his cock as your hand dips underneath your underwear to touch your wet pussy.

“BubblegumHeart wants to suck my cock. It’s funny how chatty you get whenever I’m half naked. Exceptionally quiet the entire stream minus a comment here or there and then dying for me to fuck their face,” Hwa says, pulling the boxers down as his cock springs free.

The comment makes your head spin, your finger touching your clit with a jolt of pleasure at the sight of Hwa wrapping his hand around his length along with his dirty comment aimed at you. You think once again about being on your knees for him, his fingers gently tilting your chin upwards to look at him while stroking his cock. He’d call you his little slut, tell you to be his good girl and suck his dick. On the screen, Hwa is slowly jerking himself off, basking in the attention from everyone in chat. Your eyes are glued to the screen, not caring what anyone else is saying, just admiring the way his hand looks around his dick and how his balls must be full of cum. Your finger rubs your clit, pussy wet as you both watch him and daydream about what he would do to you.

Hwa spits on his hand lewdly, smearing it across his cock. The tip is glistening with precum as he moves his hips slightly so there is a better angle of it shown to the camera. You’re thinking about how it’d feel in your mouth and how much of it you could take before it’d hit the back of your throat. You don’t care if you made a mess with Hwa, in fact most of your daydreams are centred around him fucking you for so long and so hard that you’re practically unrecognizable by the end.

Hwa resumes jerking off, his painted fingernails a blur as he increases his speed. Your pussy is dripping wet, soaking through your underwear as you furiously rub your clit. In the purple hue of his bedroom, Hwa’s torso is bathed in soft colours, the snake looking almost sinister wrapped around him. The projector that rotates the stars occasionally has one or two land on his stomach for a couple of seconds before moving away, giving a small pinprick of bright light against his toned abs for a second.

He slows down his speed, allowing a drop of precum to drip off the tip of his dick before resuming. You can hear how wet your pussy is, unable to stop as your climax draws closer watching Hwa. You want to run your tongue up along his snake tattoo, bounce in his lap and have his hands roam all over your body. The desire is a palpable thing, a beast that resides just under the surface of your skin. You know that a chance with Hwa will never happen and that wanting him this much is silly but watching him touch himself shatters all the borders you usually put up.

Hwa’s breathing is heavy and maybe his moans are for the sake of the audience, you don’t know nor care, but he sounds positively delicious as his orgasm draws nearer. You can picture his hand curling around your neck, giving it a squeeze as he pounds you into the bed so hard that you could see stars. You’d let him do anything to you, be his doll –

Hwa gasps and his climax begins. His load goes all over his hand, making a mess as he tries to stop it from getting everywhere. There is a ton of it, he always cums a lot, and your hips wiggle as your own orgasm begins at the sight of his load and the mental image of him coating your face with it.

Your phone drops from your hands as you lose yourself to the pleasure, head rolled back against the pillow. As your body goes limp, you can hear Hwa talk about cleaning up his mess from where your phone fell onto the bed.

Your cheeks burn with sudden embarrassment as the orgasm abates and reality sets in. Ashamed, you sit up and snatch your phone, exiting out of the live stream hastily as if someone is going to discover what you did.

Plopping back in bed, you stare at the ceiling. The storm started at some point during the live stream, and now you listen to it strike against the roof. You force your eyes closed, knowing that come morning, you’ll be beating yourself up for spending money in the stream and for being down so badly over a person that will never know you exist.

It’s Saturday night and for once you’re out at a bar although it wasn’t your idea. Two of your friends convinced you to come with them to a larger get together. It’s someone’s birthday but you aren’t exactly sure who.

After a couple hours, you’re already ready to go home. The bar is loud, incredibly crowded since it’s the weekend, and you aren’t much of a drinker. Having only agreed so that they would keep inviting you to things, you idly wonder how much time you can put in here before it’s okay to leave.

As usual, you end up on the outskirts of the group. Part of it is your choosing – too much social interaction makes your anxiety overwhelming – and part of it is just how things seemingly always go.

The rain began hours ago, a torrent that wiped the entire city clean before slowing to a steady thrum. The bar smells like water, the city, smoke and too many perfumes and colognes battling for attention. Your back presses against the wall, watching as a cluster of people play pool, your friends order another round of shots and someone begins to drunkenly yell at someone who spilled their beer.

You don’t think anyone would notice if you were to slink out now. The city makes it easy to get swallowed up in. Your nerves are frayed from all the anxiety and noise. Deciding to call it a night, you wiggle through the crowd, popping out of the entrance and into the rain.

The temperature has dropped considerably since you were last outside. Taking a deep breath, you feel it freeze your lungs for a few seconds. You don’t have an umbrella but awkwardly shove yourself back into the oversized hoodie that had been removed earlier in the night.

After wandering down the block, you stop in front of a bar that is swathed in dark and red, almost sinister looking. The windows are tinted and you can’t see inside. There are shadows against the windows, slightly distorted from whatever effect the glass has on it, making it look vaguely like a bar from the underworld. But the stoop directly in front is quiet and under an overhang which makes it a perfect spot to plop down at to give yourself a few minutes to settle your nerves.

The concrete is cold against your fingertips. You tried to dress up tonight a bit which meant a skirt that ended right at your knees. Now, it just means you’re cold. You pull the hood up of your hoodie, trying to get warm. Rubbing your hands together, you idly watch the way the cars cut through the puddles and the streetlights shatter like glass in each ripple.

You exhale slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet. Yes, you made the right call in leaving the bar. You’ll be home soon, crawling into your warm bed and into your dreams soon enough.

You hear the door to the bar swing open followed by a burst of electronic music before it becomes muffled again. You don’t pay any attention to a few people leaving, their heads bowed together as they giggle. You think maybe, normally, you’d feel lonely at a moment like this. But right now, you are just so relieved to be in the quiet of the street versus all the earlier noise.

The door opens again, another explosion of music for a couple of seconds. You tilt your face back, studying the way an apartment building looks as if it is touching the storm clouds. You wonder what each individual person in each apartment is doing –

“Hey, do you have a light?”

At first, you don’t think the voice could be directed at you. But as the silence stretches and you bring your head out of the clouds, the voice tries again.

“Can never fucking tell if someone has Air Pods in. Honest to hell, it kinda drives me crazy…Hey, do you have a light?” The repeated question is a lot louder this time.

That voice, you think as time comes to a crawl, there’s no way. You turn your head in the direction of it, your heart knowing before your brain that it is going to belong to…

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. There is you, freezing your ass off on concrete, and then there is him, the cam boy of your dreams, Hwa, standing right in front of you, slightly leaning forward, squinting as if trying to see if you have Air Pods in because your ears are covered by the hoodie.

“No, I don’t smoke.” You hear your voice although it sounds very far away, as if it doesn’t belong to you.

This cannot be happening.

But it is. Hwa is wearing a thin black tank top with a fishnet shirt tossed over it, exposing his bare arms in the cut outs of the netting. A necklace with a small green pendant dangles in front of his leaning body, swinging gently like a pendulum. His black jeans are ripped, his knees exposed and most of his fingers have the familiar rings on that you’ve seen a ton of times in streams. The bar’s red light makes the tips of his black hair glow.

“Oh, shame. Forgot to bring my lighter.”

You are frozen, unsure what to do. Just don’t say anything about it and he’ll leave in a few seconds. This whole thing will feel like a fever dream. But that primal part of you, that part that responds to everything Hwa casually does on his streams, is stirring like a savage beast.

“I didn’t see you inside,” Hwa continues, oblivious to the mental strife you’re currently suffering through.

It feels like moving a boulder to try to speak a normal sentence. “Oh, I wasn’t inside. I was at the bar a few places down but I just left. It was really crowded and loud in there…” You trail off, immediately self-conscious about talking too much to the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen.

“No kidding? That’s why I came out here too,” Hwa says and to your utter shock – and relief…and horror… - he sits down next to you. “Sometimes I need a breather from the crowds.”

You are sitting very still as if one wrong move will make this entire situation vanish into thin air. You are glad that your hoodie is pulled up, offering you a little protection from Hwa seeing your face which probably looks shell shocked.

Time to stand up, tell him have a nice night and get the hell out of here, you think before that primal beast goes, no fucking way. You run into the guy you’ve been masturbating to for a year, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, the only guy that makes you feel the way you do and now you want to head home?

But it’s wrong to talk to him casually without him knowing that I know him!

“Still can’t believe I forgot my lighter…I guess I’ll have to bum one off someone inside. Wow, it’s cold out here. Are you cold?”

“A little,” You admit, still staring straight ahead, unable to look him in the face for fear of blurting out the secret or melting into a puddle of desire.

From this angle, you can see Hwa drumming his fingers against his exposed knee. Those same fingers you’ve seen wrapped around his cock. I think I might spontaneously combust right here on the spot while wondering why the universe would land you in such a situation. The odds, even living in the same city, were so impossible that you never even daydreamed about running into Hwa. It seemed ridiculous that you would now be sitting next to him outside a bar, a cruel joke from someone who just wanted to create chaos.

“My friend San got me into this bar cuz it’s invite only but then he took off twenty minutes ago because something came up,” Hwa continues speaking in that same voice you’ve heard a thousand times through your phone, “Hey, are you heading home after this?”

“What?” You say, finally startled enough to turn your head to look directly at him.

“If you’re not, why don’t you come with me inside?” Hwa flashes a smile, so familiar that it knocks the air out of your lungs, “Like I said, the place is invite only and is sorta exclusive so if you wanna grab a drink together. My name is Hwa.”

You squint your eyes, feeling torn between jumping for joy and running down the road. “You don’t even know me.” is what you end up saying instead, immediately disliking how hostile the words come out.

Hwa looks unperturbed, replying, “Sure but we already have something in common by coming out here for some fresh air. On top of that, you’ve just been watching the rain fall against the road which is something I do all the time when I’m trying to come up with a song. So, maybe we are a bit similar.”

A natural question after this would be oh you write songs? But to utter such a thing would be lying to Hwa immediately since you already know he writes synthwave music. Hwa asking you to go inside could mean nothing. On his streams, he always has struck you as someone down for adventure, someone who loves people, and here you are, sitting alone outside a bar – why wouldn’t he ask to hang out? But Hwa also loves sex and attention, and you’re a woman sitting outside a bar, why wouldn’t he want to try to hit on you?

But I know you even though you don’t know me. I masturbate to you almost regularly. You’re like the guy of my sexual dreams. But none of those words leave your mouth even as the guilt swirls.

Hwa stands up then, extending his hand towards you. A stray lock of hair falls out of place, framing his angled face, with his eyes as dark as the bottom of the ocean. Looking directly at Hwa, you know you’re swimming with the sharks.

“Would you like to have a drink with me?” He offers.

You swallow hard and go, “Sure.”

Remembering that he told you his name earlier, you tell him yours while reaching upwards. Your hand meets his as he helps you up off the concrete. Your heart is beating so quickly that you’re breathless. His fingers are around yours for a few seconds and you are entranced at the sight of his painted nails as small blurs against your skin. When Hwa lets go of your hand, he motions to the door, beckoning you to follow.

And you do, as if any other choice actually existed. If the universe had opted to toss you in Hwa’s direction, then you would take it.

Hwa pushes open the door to the bar, the electronic music promptly smacking you in the face with the force of a punch. The entrance is covered in a low red light and shadows dance on the walls. There is a bouncer by the second door, and a woman is looking crestfallen as he shakes his head, pointing her towards the exit.

Hwa stops in front of the bouncer, who nods before pointing at you with a puzzled expression on his face. Hwa yells something while gesturing to you and the bouncer nods again, moving to the side to let you both in. Hwa reaches for your hand once more, and the guilt becomes too much as you enter the bar with him.

“Hey!” You shout over the din but he doesn’t hear you.

The music is obnoxiously loud – no wonder Hwa popped out for a break – and people are crowded at the bar, bodies pressed together and the air heavy with smoke. The music makes the floor vibrate underneath your feet but no one is dancing. In fact, you can’t even spot a dance floor, just two people wildly making out smushed in a corner that looked like it maybe, in an earlier iteration, had a dance floor.

Everything is black and red to an almost dizzying effect. Hwa stops at the bar, wedging himself into a small cluster of people. His hand is still holding onto yours, your eyes falling on it. It’s wrong that he doesn’t know, the voice in your head that is as loud as the music thrumming along your skin goes, you need to tell him before it gets more complicated.

Hwa has now successfully gotten a lighter from someone unceremoniously shoving it into his pocket. He turns around and shoots you a grin with those dazzling white teeth of his, setting off to lead you further into the bar.

“Hey!” You yell again and this time sharply tug on his hand.

Hwa stops, turning his body slightly to the side to look over his shoulder at you. His brows come together in question and he asks you what although it is swallowed up by the music.

“I have to tell you something!” You’re now wishing the confession had occurred outside the bar as the electronic music swirls around you.

Hwa is bumped by someone, he shoots them a glare and then turns around to face you, moving so close that the warmth of his body seeps into yours. Doused in the wild lights of the bar, you don’t think it is possible for him to look sexier than he currently does. When he asks you what once again, you can see the quick flash of his tongue piercing and your knees actually feel weak.

No choice left but forward, you motion for Hwa to get closer. He does so, his body angling so that his ear is next to your lips. Being this close to him is making your head dizzy. You can make out the muscles in his arms through the fishnet, can see the small tattoo behind his ear of a symbol you don’t recognize of two small pieces coming together, and watch as his green pendant swings in front of his chest.

You shut your eyes for a second as if about to jump off a cliff and shout over the heavy music, “I know who you are! I watch your streams!”

Hwa pulls away immediately, eyes widening. In the dancing blaze of red lights, it is a little difficult to make out his expression and it isn’t as if the bar lends itself to any sort of intimate conversation. But you couldn’t deal with the guilt over hanging out with Hwa and hiding the fact you know what he does in his spare time. It just felt wrong.

To your surprise, he tilts his head back and laughs. You stare at the tongue piercing, unsure what to do or even say, given his reaction. He jerks his head to the side, an indicator to continue following him. He is still holding your hand as he wedges himself through the crowd. He said this place was invite only but it’s like the entire damn city is here.

Hwa leads you up a metal staircase near the back of the bar, taking you up to the second floor. There is another bouncer here but he merely waves at Hwa, pushing the curtain to the side to allow access. You follow, walking past VIP booths. Someone has ordered bottle service and it is an explosion of glowing bottles, sparklers, and tiny lights flashing as a group of women pop the bottle at one of the tables.

The music isn’t as loud here – still overwhelming but enough that conversation could go easier. Hwa stops at one of the smaller booths, releasing your hand and sitting down. Feeling nervous now, you sit on the opposite side. You’re totally out of your element and it isn’t just because you’re with Hwa. This type of bar is new to you, and you’re self-conscious about your quick outfit of the hoodie and skirt meant for a totally different setting.

Hwa scoots all the way into the middle of the booth and motions for you to move closer. You know it is just because of the volume of the music but to be this close to him is making your heart race. Combined with the confession of watching his streams, you aren’t sure if it is racing because of desire or anxiety. Maybe both.

His body is angled towards you, one arm across the back of the booth near your back. You aren’t sure where to look. You want to just stare at him, take in the sight of his face and his body and the fact he is this close to you but your shyness at the confession mixed with the surreal nature of the situation means you just end up staring at the table.

A server comes off, asking in a loud voice to be heard over the music if the two of you want anything.

“Just a water,” You yell, feeling a little ridiculous at communicating only via shouting.

“Same,” Hwa goes, taking your lead and the server nods, leaving you alone with him.

His eyes are on you again and your hands grip the edge of your hoodie as if it is a life raft. Your body is screaming for him a way that you’ve never experienced before while your brain is in a pure panic at having confessed you know who he is.

Hwa leans towards you, his lips near your ear. You hold your breath, the different emotions bouncing in your chest as he speaks.

“You really watch my streams?”

When you turn your head to look at him, you’re so close that it would take a second to press your lips against his. He doesn’t seem phased by it, merely waiting for you to answer. Can he tell how much you want him? Is it obvious that he impacts you? You aren’t sure; his eyes don’t reveal anything.

“Yes,” You reply, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make things awkward but it felt wrong hanging out with you and hiding it.”

“No, I appreciate the honesty,” Hwa says and for a brief second his eyes drop to where your hoodie meets your skirt, “I’ve never run into anyone irl before that’s seen my streams.”

“Really?”

He nods, brushing his hair away from his face. His rings are so familiar – everything about him is so familiar. You swallow. Hwa notices, trying to hide a smirk. Your heart is skipping rope in your chest.

“Yeah. I honestly never considered running into someone. Or…I didn’t think they’d actually admit they knew who I was,” He studies you for a moment, “Do you talk in the chat?”

“Oh, uhm…occasionally. Sometimes.” Mortification is beginning to sit in as the conversation goes further. Does he think you’re some desperate loser for watching his streams?

The server returns with the two glasses of water, unceremoniously left on the table because they have actual real drink orders to take. Nervously, you grab the water, fiddling with the paper straw, hoping that keeping your hands busy will stop you from reaching out to Hwa and doing something desperate.

“Oh yeah? What’s your username?”

“My username?” You’re stalling.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll know it.”

His words uttered during the stream last night come back to you. BubblegumHeart wants to suck my cock. It’s funny how chatty you get whenever I’m half naked. Exceptionally quiet the entire stream minus a comment here or there and then dying for me to fuck their face. You busy yourself taking a large gulp of water through the straw, wanting to sink into the floor of the club and disappear from Hwa’s view.

He is watching you patiently, apparently in no hurry to get information. There is something languid about his movements, like a cat lazily watching its prey and knowing no matter what happens, it’ll catch it. Does he see you like that? Did you want him to? Again, the old thoughts return about how experienced he must be compared to yourself and the paltry limited sexual encounters you’ve had your entire life.

When you can’t put it off any longer, you mumble, “It’s BubblegumHeart.”

You spoke it so softly that you aren’t even sure it is audible. But Hwa reacts immediately, a grin breaking out across his face, looking as if he just hit the jackpot.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” He says gleefully, “You’re a fucking chat regular.”

What are the odds of lightning breaking the roof and striking me down right now? If I can run into Hwa, surely I can be electrocuted, right?

“That’s amazing,” Hwa continues, sounding positively chipper, “You’re in almost every stream. I always notice you because as soon as I’m done jerking off, you immediately leave like clockwork.” He snaps his fingers. “I could never tell if you were embarrassed at watching me or just did what you needed to do and left.”

Or maybe a stampede of wild animals from the zoo will break out, storm this bar and trample me. That might be better. Are the odds of that higher or lower? Whichever one will make my deep embarrassment stop first.

He props his chin on his hand, studying you and your phony fascination with the glass of water. You’re too embarrassed to even talk.

“So?” He prompts.

Swallowing, you go, “What?”

“Which one is it? Do you get that post nut shame and close out of my stream or do you just see those things as down to business, business taken care of, time to close out?”

You idly resume swirling the straw in the cup, biting down hard on your bottom lip for a second before forcing yourself to look at Hwa directly. His fingers rest again his cheek, his dark eyes alight with interest, and his body wickedly warm next to yours.

“It’s embarrassment,” You finally reply, “But none of it has to do with you. I just get embarrassed about…paying for attention. And getting off to someone I don’t know.”

“Lots of people get off to people they don’t know. That’s basically the entirety of porn,” Hwa points out.

“You know what I mean,” You mumble.

He shifts a little closer. Your knees are touching now, the contact of skin against skin like pure electricity being dumped over your body. “Is it because you like getting off to me, specifically?” His voice has dropped an octave, low in your ear, settling across your brain to create a pleasant hum. Mixed with the throbbing sound of the music, it is almost making you delirious.

There is a lump in your throat as you go, “Yes.”

“Is it because you want to suck my cock?” He asks, quoting your comment from last night.

The words are like a sledgehammer to your chest, knocking you entirely off balance. Your grip tightens around the glass and you’re sure that Hwa notices but you can’t help yourself. You’re getting to that dangerous tipping point where your brain is about to log out for the night. You only ever get this sensation when you’re watching his streams. How could you resist it when he’s right in front of you in the flesh?

“Yes,” You exhale, “Can I ask you something now?”

He nods. Very lightly, you feel his fingertips grazing the back of your neck where his arm is stretched across the back of the booth. The touch is intense; you never want him to stop. It is so faint that you can barely feel it but as he brushes his fingers there, you realize just how wet you already are – from basically nothing but talking to him.

“Before I told you…about the streams. When we were outside. Why did you ask me to come in here with you?”

“Cute girl, sitting alone in just a hoodie and a skirt, watching the rain fall across the city. Me, alone tonight because my friend had to leave. Figured I’d see where it would lead.”

“Where do you want it to lead?” It is as forward as you can get without getting tongue tied.

Hwa’s eyes drop once more to your skirt laying across your thighs before flicking back up to your face. You’re trying not to squirm under his gaze.

“I think you know where I want it to lead,” He goes and to your shock and delight, he brings his other hand to lightly rest on your knee.

Things like this do not happen to me, you think, knowing this entire situation is just too good to be true and therefore, your brain is going to attempt to sabotage it.

“I don’t – uhm. I don’t have a lot of experience in this area. Very little, actually. And it will probably not be fun…for you.”

“I’m a good teacher,” is all he says without missing a beat, “If you want one.”

How does Hwa do that? Just flip every single conversation into something that makes your knees weak and your pussy so wet that all logic goes out the window? You have a feeling he could suggest jumping off a bridge with him and you’d likely agree.

You make a strangled noise as your brain buffers with a reply and your body just wants to jump in his lap. As you take in the sight of Hwa next to you, his hand on your knee, your mind flickers back to the snake tattoo that curls around his body. The mental image of running your fingers across it is in vivid colour.

“I do want one,” You manage to say without stumbling over your words.

Hwa flashes you a grin and leans forward. You realize with a jolt he’s going to kiss you. You place two fingers against his chest to stop him, your breathing unsteady and hands shaking slightly. He stops immediately.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve seen your streams?” You ask, so close to him now that you can study his jawline, the pinkish hue of his lips and the way he is looking at you as if he can’t wait to taste you.

“No. Why would it bother me?” Even though the music is loud, you can still somehow hear him as though your brain filters out everything but him. “Just means I don’t have to waste any time explaining who I am and what I like to do.”

Another mental image of his hand stroking his cock. You swallow hard, your fingers lowering back to your lap. There is no other excuse to wield, no other manner in which you can deny yourself the very thing you’ve wanted the most.

“I guess that’s true,” You murmur as Hwa’s hand slowly moves up your leg, resting just at the bottom of your skirt where your thigh begins.

Your brain finally gives up, throwing its hands in the air and retreating as Hwa presses his lips against yours. The sensation is like two planets colliding, your entire body is wrapped up in the feeling of Hwa kissing you. His hand presses down against your thigh, the coldness of his rings making goosebumps break out against your skin. His other hand brushes along the back of your neck as the kiss grows deeper.

You’ve never done something like this, kissing someone you basically don’t know. Sure, you’ve watched Hwa on streams but that isn’t the same thing as knowing someone, is it? It isn’t as if he knew about you beforehand. But you’ve never desired anyone like you’ve lusted after Hwa through a screen and the idea of missing out on him when the universe sent him your way just doesn’t make any sense.

You fend off a moan when Hwa’s tongue slips into your mouth and you can feel his piercing. How many times did you daydream about this? Too many to count.

When he pulls away, his skin is slightly tinged with colour and the expression of lust is in his eyes. Knowing it is directed at you only furthers your desire.

“Do you want to come back with me to my place?” He asks, a sentence that is so dreamlike you hope that you never forget it.

That’s when the server interrupts the two of you, asking if everything is going okay. You can tell by the bored tone in their voice that two people making out in a booth is just a regular night.

�� Both of you say that you’re fine. The server leaves and you try to steady your breathing.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Hwa asks.

“I do, actually, I don’t love the smell when it’s right next to me,” You reply, knowing it would be easier just to say yes and go along with whatever Hwa wants due to your feelings for him but unable to do that to yourself.

To your surprise, he grins again, that same quick as a dagger smile that threatens you to break every promise you’ve ever had with yourself.

“That’s alright, I can have one on the walk home. Are you coming with me? We got interrupted before you could answer before.”

As if saying no was ever an option.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” You hesitate, “Are you sure you’re alright with my lack of experience?”

“You’re hung up on it way more than me,” Hwa replies, “Like I said, it doesn’t bother me. You just tell me whatever you want to do tonight. You can decide.”

This takes you by surprise. “I’m not very good at leading.”

“You don’t have to lead. You just tell me what you want to try and we’ll try it. I’ll show you. If we start something and you don’t like it, you tell me and we switch to something else.” His tone is casual, without any shyness, proving how comfortable he is with his own body and sex, a far cry from yourself.

But this is the same attitude you always have found so sexy on his streams. Having it directed at you is a bit mind melting. Combined with the proposition of doing whatever you have fantasized about with Hwa and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve just won the sexual lottery.

“Oh, okay,” You reply simply, too tongued tied and overwhelmed to say anything else.

“Do you want to stay here longer or are you ready to go?”

“No, we can go. Thanks for showing me this place but I don’t think I’ll ever come back here.”

Hwa laughs at this as he slides out of the booth. He says something but it’s swallowed up by the music. He extends his hand again towards yours to help you out and then motions to the back of the VIP area.

“There’s a back exit so you don’t have to cut through downstairs again. I’ll show you.”

Following after Hwa, your eyes skim along the length of his back to his small waist. The nerves are buzzing now, the idea that you’re actually going to mess around and most likely fuck him starting to settle in with amazing clarity. You can taste him in your mouth from the earlier kiss and you seem to be emotionally leaping from open desire to pure anxiety.

Hwa pushes the back door open and you trail after him onto a small metal balcony with a staircase leading to the alley. The rain has stopped and everything shines in the city lights, the puddles a multi coloured collection of neon signs and street lamps.

Once you’re in the alleyway with Hwa, he pulls out a small box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans as well as the lighter he collected earlier. The flame flickers brightly in the darkness as he lights the tip of his cigarette and takes a drag off it, tilting his face away from you while blowing the smoke out from in between those plump lips of his.

“Here, stand on this side of me so the wind blows it away from you,” He says as the two of you leave the alley.

“You seem to have practice with this. I guess because of your roommate?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because it brings up the fact you watch his streams and know more about him than he knows about you.

“Yeah, Hongjoong doesn’t like it at all which I get. That’s one of the reasons I started streaming. The nighttime walks to smoke could be kinda boring.”

“What are the other reasons?” You ask curiously.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before going, “I like attention.”

Which you had gathered. In some ways, you envy Hwa and his love of attention because you spend so much of your time hiding from it.

“You never get self conscious on the streams?”

You move around a large puddle on the sidewalk, almost losing your footing. Hwa’s hand goes to your back, an anchor that helps you steady yourself. The cigarette is in between his lips and he’s covered in a blue neon light from another bar.

“No,” He says, the two of you frozen in place on the sidewalk as a car drives by, blasting muffled music, “Why would I? I know every single person watching my stream wants to fuck me. It’s a confidence booster more than anything.”

You suppose that he also means you. Feeling your cheeks get hot, you straighten up and continue walking. Hwa brings his slender fingers to the cigarette, exhaling again and waving away any errant smoke that might drift in your direction. You wonder what it’s like to be so comfortable in your own skin like Hwa is.

“Do you live far from here?”

“No, about a ten minute walk. What about you?” He asks.

“Yeah, I took an Uber here. Twenty minutes or so not accounting for traffic.”

“Far enough away that we wouldn’t run into one another. Which leads me to another question.”

“What?” You ask nervously.

“Did you know we lived in the same city? I do what I can to try to make my location vague but if you live in the city and you watch my streams, you must have seen something that made you realize it.”

You’ve been honest the entire night so why lie now? “I did know, yeah. But I wasn’t about to…track you down while you were streaming or something. That felt completely out of bounds and creepy. The city is teeming with people. I told myself there is just no way I’d ever run into you. Did you ever think about what it would be like to run into someone who watched your streams?”

“I assumed no one would actually admit to it even if I did run into someone. Admitting it means possibly admitting to sticking around when I switch to members only and watching me jerk off on camera as well as going on a website that is just full of cam shows. But I guess I was wrong because you told me.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“I wouldn’t be taking you back to my place if anything you did made me uncomfortable,” He replies, stopping at the crosswalk and looking at you. “Do you feel uncomfortable? You’re the one watching me jerk off on camera.”

Flustered, you make another garbled noise before settling on, “I’m not uncomfortable. I’m just nervous.”

“Due to your inexperience.”

“That’s right.”

“You always spend this much time in your own head?”

“Basically. I spend a lot of time alone.”

“Why’s that?”

“Dunno, I just prefer it. People can be draining.”

“You ever get lonely?”

“Sometimes. I mean, that’s how I ended up on your stream. And why I kept going back,” You admit.

“That and the fact you think I’m hot.”

You’re starting to think Hwa enjoys flustering you. “Yes, that too.”

The crosswalk light turns green and Hwa turns his attention back to the walk. For a few minutes, you’re both silent. However, it isn’t an awkward silence. Sure, you’re nervous about being around someone you want so badly. But there is a familiarity and ease to Hwa that makes things comfortable.

“Can I ask you something else?”

Hwa replies, “You don’t have to preface everything with that. You can ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

“Why?” You go warily, “Why are you so open with me?”

“I told you. I’ve never had anyone know about my cam shows. It’s a big facet of my life because I like doing them and it’s a secondary income. I’m not embarrassed but it’s a personal thing to tell someone what I do on those streams. No one else knows how far I go. Hongjoong is aware I casually go live but not the stripping, the jerking off, the dirty talk. A part of you ends up hidden even if you don’t mean to. But you know that part of me – you know that part of me first over anything else. Feels freeing.”

You’re surprised by his answer but reassured that telling Hwa you watch his cam shows had been the right choice. You’re off the main road now, walking down a side street together that leads to a block of apartment buildings. You can hear another round of storms kicking up in the distance.

“Well, my question isn’t that exciting. I was just wondering what you did outside of streaming for money.”

“Like my job?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m actually the heir to a chain of grocery stores so I get money from my parents.”

Confused, your steps slow as you look at him. But Hwa laughs loudly, shaking his head at your expression.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. Can you imagine something like that? Sounds preposterous,” He drops the cigarette underneath his shoe, crushing it into a puddle. “Honestly, I got a collection of random stuff I do. Delivery driver, sometimes I use my car to do Uber drives, part time jobs here and there, just whatever catches my interest and gives me enough money to pay what I need to. The streaming is just one of the sources of income.”

He stops in front of a nondescript apartment complex that is three floors. Underneath the streetlight, he leans against the crumbling wall in front of the building, an indication that this area was once fancier before it fell into a state of disrepair.

“What were you saying to me before we left the club?” You ask, remembering how you couldn’t hear him over the noise.

“Oh? Just that you were unbelievable. I like how honest you are. You didn’t try to drink through a misguided notion to try to impress me. You tell me that you don’t want me smoking next to you. You tell me the club sucks.”

“I don’t think I used that exact phrasing,” You reply.

He is grinning again. “Well, the intention is still the same. I like that you weren’t trying to hide anything about who you are just because you like watching my streams.”

“It didn’t cross my mind,” You admit a bit sheepishly.

His smile fades, his look becoming serious while studying you, making your heart race. “C’mere,” Hwa says, motioning for you to get closer.

You do, and the thunder crackles in the distance, a little louder this time. Hwa places one hand on your waist, and the other on your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. Your body reacts to him immediately. The pure desperation is reaching a boiling point. All your earlier fantasies of Hwa treating you like you’re his little whore float to the surface.

This time, when he kisses you in the silence of the street, you melt into him. His hand moves from your waist to lower back to better angle you against his body. You reach upwards, fingers slipping through the fishnet top, pressing against the hard muscles underneath the thin fabric of his black tank top.

When the kiss breaks, it is as if you are coming up for air after diving very deep into the ocean. Hwa’s black hair is glowing from the streetlight, his eyes heavy with desire.

“Uhm, is your…is your roommate home?” You ask. Are we gonna have to be quiet? is what your question actually means.

“Nah, Hongjoong works overnights. He won’t be back until seven,” He lowers his face, mimicking his posture from earlier in the club when the music was too loud, “That means you don’t have to worry about being quiet when I make you cum.”

Oh, I don’t think I’m gonna survive this, you think as his words make your breath catch and brain buzz. He is holding your hand again, cutting across the parking lot towards one of the apartments on the bottom floor. Unlocking the door, you step inside after him, thinking about how many streams you’ve seen where he covered the camera.

The apartment is small, well lived in but clean. The kitchen is even smaller; it could probably only hold one person in it to cook at a time. A bedroom door on the right is swung open and you know immediately it isn’t Hwa’s.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He offers over his shoulder while walking to the bedroom on the left, near the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” You reply, walking into his room for the first time.

It’s exactly how it looks in the streams but from this angle, you see things that are not typically shown on camera. There is a small corkboard behind the stand for his phone that is filled with polaroid pictures of Hwa with his friends. There are actually too many photos to fit the board and they overflow, pinned to the border. You know it is positioned behind the camera for privacy reasons and you’re aware that you’re now seeing things meant for people only in Hwa’s life, not through a screen.

Hwa turns on the projector light of stars, a familiar motion made entirely brand new from the fact you’re currently standing in his room. The lava lamp had been left on and the inky blobs move slowly. He turns to face you and the worlds of offline and online seem to collide. You suddenly find it difficult to speak, your shyness getting the best of you now that the objection of your desire has you alone in his bedroom.

You motion to his computer. “How come you never upload your music online?”

“I do. I just don’t link to it on streams.”

“Why not?” You are curious, wondering why he wouldn’t use his following to promote his music.

“Because everyone on stream wants to fuck me and that’ll cloud their judgement over the music. They’ll just tell me it’s great just because they know I made it.”

“That’s not true,” You say but Hwa raises one eyebrow at your unconvincing tone.

He moves closer to you, his hands going to your waist as he pulls you towards him. “Is that right?”

“Sure. Play some right now and I’ll tell you it’s shit.”

Hwa laughs, his perfectly white teeth and tongue piercing glinting in the dark lights of the bedroom. The longer this conversation goes on, the less you feel confident in being able to continue it due to how you are mentally screaming for him to touch you more. A couple of kisses aren’t enough. You want all of him, you want him to do everything to you.

He kisses you then. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue is in your mouth, his hands staying on your waist. As the kisses deepen, grow more urgent, the nerves still flutter in your stomach, making you a bit distracted.

It must show because when Hwa pulls away, he is studying your face through long lashes. “What are you thinking about?”

“About ten thousand things at once.”

“You overthink a lot, don’t you?”

“Almost always, yeah.”

“Have you ever been with someone and they just…made your brain shut off? Just stopped thinking completely because of how they were fucking you?”

“I…ah…uhm…”

“That’s a ‘no’,” Hwa retorts, and his hand is against your cheek, thumb brushing across your lips. He has an unreadable expression on his face but it’s making your heart thud heavily in your chest. “I can give you that. Would you like that?”

Not that you doubt Hwa’s sexual prowess or his impact on your body but you do find the possibility of your brain being quiet for once highly improbable. But since your experience with sex is limited, maybe he could really do such a thing.

“Sounds impossible but yes, I’d like that.” His thumb across your lips is distracting, making your earlier fantasies about sucking his dick return.

“Tell me what you want to start with,” His voice is soft and in the silence of the room, it seems to slink down your back and make you shiver.

“Will you just…uhm…kiss me again?” You’re too shy to ask him for anything more, the words stuck in your mouth.

He brings his face to yours, kissing you slowly this time. You can feel this from the top of your scalp to the tip of your toes, sending your body alight with fresh desire. His hands move away from your waist to your lower back, not making any motion to remove your hoodie. As the kissing continues, each one growing deeper, Hwa takes a couple of steps back towards his bed. When he sits down, he pulls you into his lap, not stopping with the kisses the entire time.

Your arms are back around his neck, sitting in his lap slightly turned so that your legs rest on his bed, too shy to suddenly straddle him. Hwa doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way one hand trails up along your legs to your thighs with his other hand against your back to hold you in place.

He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth which makes your body shiver. His fingers dip just underneath the bottom of your skirt to touch your inner thigh. It’s a minor touch but feels like an earthquake inside your body. You’re almost embarrassed by how wet you are from almost nothing.

You can tell Hwa is hard by the bulge pressing against your body so at least it isn’t just you being turned on. Nervously, you break the kiss, feeling too hot in the oversized hoodie. You tug it off over your head in an attempt to cool down, wearing just a regular t-shirt underneath. Hwa tosses the hoodie onto his computer chair before pulling you in for another kiss.

His tongue in your mouth feels too good to be true and, unable to help yourself, you reach for his hand, bringing it upwards to one of your tits so he knows it is okay to touch you there. Hwa doesn’t miss a beat, immediately groping you through your shirt.

Your own fingers are once again clinging to the fishnet shirt he has on. You hope he doesn’t notice your hands are shaking again.

Hwa moves his head to your neck, biting down on the soft skin there with his teeth. A tiny groan escapes you which only makes him do it again.

“Leave a mark,” You quietly beg, the words leaving your mouth before you even had time to question them, your head tilting back to give him more access.

He sucks hard on your neck before biting down harder this time. The idea of having to cover up marks made by him come the next work day fills you with an excitement entirely new. Your hand is in his hair, silently urging him on as he moves to another spot of your neck to do the same.

While doing this, Hwa brings his hand underneath your shirt to fondle your tits in your bra. It’s not enough and you make a noise of annoyance, tugging your bra down hastily so it’s around your waist. Normally, you’d be worried that you’re moving things too fast or should be taking things slower. But not with Hwa, not when you want to be consumed by him completely.

He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump as he bites down on your neck. The sensations are intense; you didn’t think it was possible to be this wet. As he continues to fondle your bare tits, you remove your shirt, tossing it to the floor. Half dressed in Hwa’s lap while he is still fully closed, he brings his head down, sucking hard on your nipple with a soft pop when he pulls away. He moves his head to do the same to the other one, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking on it even harder.

This time you groan and when Hwa moves his head away, there is a strand of spit from his bottom lip to your nipple.

“You like that? Being pawed at like this?” He asks in a serious voice.

You nod, your affirmative answer sounding a little bit higher pitch than normal.

“Good girl,” He goes and the compliment makes your head spin, hitting a sweet spot in your brain that you didn’t even know you had, “You want me to keep doing this?”

“N-no, I…” Here it is, your first actual request, as embarrassing as it feels to say it aloud, “I want to suck your cock,” When he nods, you reach out for his wrist, curling your fingers around it and shaking your head to indicate there’s more, “I…”

“You don’t have to be shy with me,” Hwa murmurs, “We already know more about one another before we even met.”

The words settle your nerves a little although you end up bringing your face close to his neck so he can’t look at you while whispering the fantasy in his ear. “I want you to put your cock deep in my throat. And I want…I want you to call me a whore and a slut during it.” Your face feels like it is on fire.

Hwa shifts so that your face is moved away from him so he can look at you. You’re wiggling a little in his lap from the attention and the admission of what you want from him.

“You want to be a good little whore for me and have my cock buried down your throat?” He asks and fuck if it doesn’t make you feel as if you’re turning into a feral thing in his lap hearing those words directed at you. “You like being called a whore?”

“I – I’ve never been talked to like that from anyone else but I always think – I think about it with you.”

Something lights up in Hwa’s eyes for a few seconds. “Oh, so you want to be my good little whore?” After you nod again, he goes, “I think I can give you that.”

He carefully moves so that you’re off his lap while he throws a pillow onto the floor for your knees. It’s cold against your skin when you sink down onto it, still wearing your skirt. You’re both nervous and exhilarated. How many times have you thought about this?

Hwa unzips his pants, removing them but leaves his boxers on, standing in front of you. Your heart is beating so fast that surely, it must be dangerous. Maybe fantasies coming true actually aren’t that good for you. You tilt your face back to look up at Hwa, still wearing his shirt and fishnet cover.

“Pull down my boxers,” He says in the same stern yet soft tone.

When you go to reach for them though, his eyes narrow for a second and he reaches for your hand, turning it so that the palm is facing upwards.

“You’re trembling,” Hwa says and there is a small note of surprise in his voice, “Are you that nervous?”

“It’s not just nerves,” You reply shyly, “It’s…I just…I’ve thought about this a lot. You…I’ve thought about you a lot.”

Something shifts behind his eyes as he lets go of your hand, allowing you to continue. Tentatively, your fingers find the top of his boxers and you tug them down in a swift motion, exposing his hard cock.

It isn’t as though this is the first time you’ve seen Hwa hard like this. But the fact you’re seeing him in person, and it’s all for you, makes you unable to hold back even a second longer. Leaning forward, you take the head of his hard cock into your mouth, rolling your tongue across the tip to taste his precum. Hwa inhales sharply at the touch. You realize he is giving you time to get used to him in your mouth so you drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft, one hand going to fondle his balls.

Your blowjob experience is as limited as everything else you’ve done but Hwa’s breathing changes as you continue. At one point, you’re bobbing your head on his cock, cheeks hollow as you work on sucking him. When you pull him out of your mouth after that, however, you can feel his fingers gently rest on the back of your head so you go still.

Hwa guides his cock back into your mouth, pushing further back until you gag and he pulls out. He doesn’t say anything but waits patiently for you to motion to continue. After you do so, his length fills your mouth and you press your tongue against his shaft, marveling at how much you enjoy it, how much you have wanted this.

It must show on your face somehow because Hwa, in a taunt voice, goes quietly, “You like having your mouth stuffed full of my cock?”

You make an affirmative noise, impossible to reply since your mouth is full. He rocks his hips a little, moving his cock deeper into your throat until it becomes too much for you, resulting in you pulling away with a tiny gasp. Precum and spit connect your lips to the tip of his cock, your eyes watering slightly as you look upwards at him.

Hwa has one hand holding the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up a little to get a better angle at watching you deepthroat his cock. His gaze is lustful, his desire obvious as he studies your face.

“Y-yes,” You mumble shyly, your underwear sticky against your pussy from how turned on you are.

“Show me what you’ve thought about when you watch my streams,” His voice is soft, curling against a spot in your brain where all your fantasies about him are locked away, “Show me what you’ve thought about when you touch yourself to me and think about being my whore.”

His cock is back in your mouth, your lips wrapped around his warmth as you take him deeper. When you gag this time, you don’t pull away and instead stop completely, trying to relax your throat around him. Hwa curses under his breath which only spurns you on more. With his cock in your mouth, your earlier anxieties about the entire situation are starting to fade, replaced by the reality of the situation – that you are here on your knees for Hwa, after all those times of watching him jerk off on streams.

When he slips out of your mouth this time, the spit and precum drip off your chin onto your chest, running down your tits. You try to catch your breath for a couple of seconds before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head on his cock, taking his length deep each time.

Hwa grunts, keeping his hips still even though you know he must want to drive his cock down your throat as fast and hard as possible. You get the sense he is holding back as to not overwhelm you, aware of your inexperience.

You continue, not caring that you are making a big mess or that his cock is slick with your salvia and his precum. Hwa is breathing hard now which only makes you want to keep going. You’re determined to have him finish in your mouth after nights of thinking about what it would feel like to have him shoot his cum down your throat. After another moment where you gag after getting a little too excited, Hwa lets out a ragged gasp.

Your eyes flick upwards then to see his grip on his shirt is tight, his chest rising and falling quickly. He seems to sense your gaze and looks down at you then, with your cheeks puffed out from his cock and a dollop of spit hanging off your chin.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me finish if you keep doing this,” He tells you, “I didn’t think you’d be such a cockwhore, gagging on me like that.”

You slip his cock out of your mouth just enough to be able to talk, “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

“Is that part of your fantasy?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, my little cockwhore, I’ll give you what you want,” Hwa goes, moving his hips a little to press the tip of his cock against your lips.

You greedily accept him again, not caring that your tits are covered in a mess and it has probably covered your skirt too. As you slurp and suck on his cock, you drop one hand downwards underneath your skirt to press your clit through the fabric of your underwear. Hwa notices and pushes his cock down further – you can’t help yourself, you moan around him as your fingers brush your clit.

“God, you are an absolute whore,” His voice sounds uneven and you know from watching his streams that he is close.

You make a noise around his cock, a noise of approval, of contentment, and Hwa grunts as his cock buries itself in your throat and he begins to climax. As usual, he cums a lot, so much that it fills your mouth and makes you cough, your reflexes kicking in to pull away from him. But Hwa is still cumming, a hot strand against your chin, another one across your lips as he makes the most delicious sounds you have ever heard. Your fingers press down hard against your clit as his load fills your mouth, covers your face, gives you exactly what you have always gotten off to in the middle of the night.

Hwa looks dazed, trying to come to his senses after the intensity of his orgasm as he tugs his boxers up. When he speaks, it is with great effort.

“I’ll get you something to clean you up –”

“No,” You say quickly, your voice sounding gummy from his load which you are still swallowing, “No – keep it on me.”

The confession only seems to spark something in Hwa, who is staring at you with another expression on his face that you can’t read. He jerks his head to the direction of the bed and goes, “Get up there, if I don’t eat your cunt, I’m gonna start climbing the walls.”

He reaches for you, helping you to your feet as your legs protest from the angle they had been in. While you get on his bed, Hwa is pulling the fishnet cover off followed by his shirt, leaving you with seeing his snake tattoo curling around his body for the first time in person. Your eyes trace the way it wraps around his torso, the manner in which the purple light of his room lays across his body. He kicks off his jeans, leaving just his boxers on. Then he is removing his rings, dropping them onto the night table. You take in the sight of every movement, so familiar but new at the same time.

Hwa is crawling onto the bed now, tugging on your skirt. “You made a mess.”

He isn’t wrong. Even in the low lights, you can see the skirt is covered in spit and his cum. For a split second, you are worried about how you’re going to get home and past your roommate with a skirt like this and it must show on your face because Hwa clicks his tongue piercing against the top of his mouth and reaches out for you, turning your face gently to meet his gaze.

“No, you’re not overthinking again. I could tell there wasn’t a thought in your head except my cock just now and I’m going to take it one step further,” He is pulling your skirt off, landing in the pile of clothes on the floor, “I’m going to make my whore feel so good that there won’t be anything in your mind but pleasure. Look at how fucking soaked your underwear is,” He presses one long finger against your wet slit, the fabric damp, “You’re that turned on from sucking my cock?” You nod but Hwa shakes his head, “No, tell me.”

“Y-yes,” Your face feels hot from the confession.

He removes your underwear, pushing your legs apart to look at your pussy. You’ve never had anyone just look at your pussy before and you squirm underneath his gaze.

“Your pussy is beautiful, look at how swollen and wet you are for me.” His fingers touch you now, spreading your pussy lips apart gently. “Can’t wait to have my cock in your tight hole. I’m going to just slide right in there because you’re so fucking wet.”

You make a tiny noise and he looks up at you then. Some of his hair has fallen around his face, framing it, his eyes looking as serious as ever.

“Tell me,” He says.

Even though you’re embarrassed at your next request, you push through and manage to squeak out, “Will you spank it?”

“You want me to spank your cunt?” He clarifies and when you nod, he laughs a little and replies, “Yeah, I’ll spank your cunt, whore. That something else you think about?”

“Y-yes, with you.”

“You think a lot of stuff about me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” You say, shivering as Hwa brushes his fingers lightly over your pussy to tease you.

“Because you want to be my whore. Just mine.”

“Just yours.”

He spanks your pussy then, a smack that isn’t too hard to make the pain blot out the pleasure. You gasp in surprise from it and Hwa spits in your hole before bringing his mouth around your clit. The sudden intensity has a loud noise escape from your mouth, louder than intended, but you are unable to help yourself. Hwa holds your legs apart as his tongue works against your clit.

To make the pleasure borderline dizzying, you can feel his tongue piercing against it. How many times have you gotten off to such a thing? Too many to count.

Hwa pulls away and brings his hand down sharply against your cunt again before plunging a finger into your hole. Your hips buck, a garbled noise leaving your mouth from all the different sensations occurring too quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. I didn’t think it was fucking possible to be this wet,” Hwa sounds almost gleeful as he inserts a second finger, “Hold your legs back for me like a good slut.”

You obey, although it is difficult because everything feels so good that your hands sometimes almost slip. Spread out in front of Hwa, he brings his lips back to your clit, sucking on it hard, his tongue piercing pressed against your sensitive nub. You are making a lot of noise, pornographic noises as Hwa finger fucks you so fast that you can hear the lewd noises of your wet pussy squelching against his fingers.

Hwa’s fingers are deep in your hole, curling upwards as he pumps them in hard and fast. His tongue flicks across your clit now. Your head rolls back, and Hwa is right – there isn’t a single thought in your head. The pleasure is too great.

You hear him spit in your cunt before going back to your clit. He is finger banging you so hard and fast now that combined with his tongue on your clit, you’re going to cum. You try to tell him but all that leaves your mouth is gibberish.

It must make sense to Hwa though because he goes, “I know, whore. I can tell you’re close,” His voice shakes from the force of his fingers pumping into your cunt and you can feel his eyes on you. “You’re a lot of fun to fuck, has anyone told you that? It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. I know you can’t. I can tell your brain is blank. I told you I could give you that. I never lie. You look perfect like this. You’re dangerous, you know that? I might be in love with you by the end of the night because you’re just too perfect and fuckable.”

The words prove to be your tipping point. Your climax begins, your grip slipping on your legs as your juices gush out around Hwa’s fingers to the point where you think you’ve probably made a gigantic mess on his bed. But Hwa doesn’t seem to care and is instead making small noises of approval as you cum.

His face is buried in between your thighs as his tongue sinks into your hole, lapping your cum up eagerly. You are breathless, your entire body warm and tingling from the intensity of the orgasm. Hwa begins to kiss upwards, along your thighs, stomach, nipples and then your neck. His skin is feverish against yours and when the next kiss begins, you succumb to him completely.

He moves so that he is on his side, one arm along your waist as he turns you so that you’re facing him. Your tongue is in his mouth, your earlier anxiety about being with him like this long gone from how comfortable he has made you feel. The tips of his fingers trail up along your side until his hand is against your back. At the same time, he raises his knee up slowly in between your legs until your pussy is pressed against it.

Before you can even question yourself, your body reacts accordingly and grinds down against his knee. You can feel Hwa smile against your mouth as he mumbles, “Oh, you’re a fast learner.”

The compliment leaves you pleased, continuing to rub your swollen clit against his knee, knowing he is going to bring you to orgasm again. His room, which has always been a safe place whenever you watch him on streams, feels just as safe now, wrapped up in him.

The movements are slower this time around, as if Hwa is aware that going with such intensity for so long is new to you. He adjusts his position to make it easier to grind against his knee, sucking hard on your neck to leave another mark.

“Does that feel good?” He asks at one point and you manage to answer which he follows up with, “Do you want it to feel even better?”

You are unsure how such a thing is possible but with Hwa, you’re ready to do basically anything he suggests.

“I’m going to eat out that nice cunt of yours again while you suck on my cock,” His voice is soft, close to your ear as you rock your pussy against his knee, “Would you like to do that?”

You’d by lying if you said no, having thought about this very position multiple times during all your fantasies. “Y-yes, I want to do that.”

“Didn’t even have to think about it. Something you’ve thought about before then?” When you nod shyly, Hwa has that same pleased expression on his face, seeming to relish every filthy thought that has crossed your mind.

A bit out of your element with this one, you are hesitant to sit on his face but Hwa shows no such similar feeling. As the two of you adjust positions, Hwa pulls down on your hips to bring your pussy against his face without a second thought, his tongue burying itself in your hole. The sudden intensity makes you gasp and squirm in surprise which only leads to Hwa making a sound of muffled approval.

Trying to get your bearings while Hwa tastes your pussy, you tentatively lean forward towards his boxers. You can’t help yourself – your hands graze across his taunt stomach and along the snake tattoo with absolute relish, hardly believing that you are touching him. His muscles, always hard and on display whenever he shows off his body, are now underneath your fingers. There is no shyness with Hwa, just an enjoyment of sex, pleasure and attention which you both admire and desire at the same time.

Lowering his boxers, Hwa’s cock springs free, heavy against his stomach. It is admittedly difficult to focus on the task at hand when Hwa’s tongue is all over your pussy although you notice he is avoiding your clit to give you time to adjust.

Your hand wraps around his cock as you take him in your mouth for the second time tonight, somehow surpassing even your lowest expectations of how running into him could play out. As your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, Hwa moves his to your clit, making your body jerk against him reflexively. His hands glide to your hips, holding you in place while taking more of him in your mouth. You slide his length as far as it can go, maybe just overly excited to be sucking him off again, and when he hits the back of your throat, he slips out from in between your lips with a small gasp. Spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and when you rub your hand across your lips, you leave a streak of drool and precum before taking him back in.

At the same time, Hwa groans against your cunt as his tongue flicks across your clit for a few seconds until he switches to sucking it hard with a small popping noise when he releases his hold. The sound is lewd and he does it again, just to hear it before returning to licking the overly sensitive nub.

One of your hands fondles his balls while sucking him, enjoying how it feels to have his cock in your mouth and how warm it is along your tongue. You bob your head on him as your spit runs down his length and onto his balls, making a mess. But you don’t stop, delirious between the pleasure of Hwa’s ministrations and his cock in your throat. He is slick with spit and precum and when Hwa flicks his tongue particularly hard, you end up taking more of him, gagging around it but keeping him still in your mouth. You try to relax your throat, letting him fill you up in a way that you’ve only dreamt about.

Hwa grunts, lifting his hips up just enough so that you choke around his cock again. This time you pull back and his cock slips out from in between your lips, lubricated with a mess of salvia and his precum. Wrapping your hand around his dick, feeling the warmth in your hand, you jerk him off. Your hand slips across his skin easily and you can tell he is close to cumming again.

So are you, for the matter, since Hwa has his face buried in your pussy and the pleasure he is experiencing doesn’t seem to slow him down for a second versus yourself. He sucks on your clit hard, his hands gripping your hips so that you can’t squirm away.

Unable to help yourself, your pussy grinds against his face. He seems to be getting off on being smothered by you, not stopping for a second, chasing your orgasm more than his own. You stop jerking him off to swallow his cock, taking as much as you can just as your climax begins. Your moans are a wet garbled mess against his cock. The pleasure is so intense that you know you’re making a mess all over Hwa’s beautiful face. But it seems to be the very thing that makes him finish as well. With one final buck of his slender hips, he is cumming once more in your mouth. From the angle this time, the cum spills out from in between your lips, down across his length as you try to swallow as much as the hot load that you can.

When you finally pull your head off his cock, your legs feel like jelly and every nerve in your body feels overstimulated. Gingerly rolling off him, you collapse onto the bed and give a small shake of your head, closing your eyes and panting, “Need a break.”

“Are you okay?” Hwa asks, sounding just as dazed as you feel.

“Y-yeah, just…haven’t had…this many orgasms so close together and done this much in such a short amount of time,” You manage to say in between catching your breath.

He rearranges himself so that he is laying next to you, also panting quietly. You can’t even imagine how you both look, a mess of sex and cum swathed in purple hues. For a while, neither of you speak. Your entire body is tingling, your legs like jelly. Typically, you weren’t one for just openly laying naked to someone after fooling around, usually wanting to run and cover yourself.

But you feel at ease with Hwa, which surprises you given the fact you have been lusting and daydreaming about him for so long through a screen. Hwa, of course, gives no thought to being openly naked. You doubt he has ever experienced a moment of self consciousness in his entire life.

He rolls onto his side to face you, staring at you with cat eyes in the dark. You tilt your face in his direction. The butterflies that had been sleeping through all the various forms of oral sex and fingering that occurred are now starting to stir.

Some of Hwa’s hair sticks to his forehead, his lithe body draped across the sheets, the snake curling across his side and disappearing onto his back. His lips are slightly swollen and you know he is smeared in your cum but he doesn’t seem to care. He is entirely at ease, forever comfortable in his skin.

You turn onto your side as well, close enough to touch him but neither reaches out for one another. In the silence of his room, you can hear that the storm must have begun at some point during all the sex but you hadn’t even noticed.

“What is it?” You ask nervously, unsure why he is looking at you in that way.

“Does it make you uncomfortable if I look at you?”

You think for a moment before answering, “No. I just get nervous.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You might change your mind about what we are doing.”

“You think we’ve literally and figuratively come this far and I will decide not to fuck you?”

“Maybe.”

He laughs quietly as if the entire suggestion is hilarious. His hand brushes across your side up along your arm. The touch is as light as a feather but you feel it down in your core.

“No, I’m having too much fun with you,” He replies, “You weren’t thinking, were you? Earlier.”

“No, I wasn’t,” You admit, “True to your words.”

Hwa props himself up a little to look at you. His gaze is enough to melt you into the mattress. His hand presses softly onto your side so that you lay down on your back, looking upwards at him. His fingertips trail down across your stomach, making you shiver. He seems to be mentally filing away everything that elicits a reaction from you.

You reach upwards for him, pulling Hwa towards your body so that your lips are on his. His hair is bunched up in your hands as the kiss deepens. You can taste yourself on his lips; can he taste himself on yours? When the kiss ends, your hands move down his back, across the warm skin there. His eyes are a heavy thing on your body as you cast a look downward at his.

Your fingers are moving along his snake tattoo, something you have seen so many times on your phone screen now in front of you. Your hands trace the way it moves down from his shoulder, admiring the way it lays across his hips up to his stomach.

You are fairly confident that Hwa somehow knows what you’re thinking about and that is why he doesn’t speak, content to let you touch him like this.

That’s when the power goes out, the lightning flashing brightly through the closed window and the thunder making the walls rattle, ushering in darkness. The purple light which you have grown so accustomed to over both the camera and reality is snuffed out like a flame.

“Oh,” You say quietly in surprise.

Hwa’s hold on your side tightens for a second to reassure you that he is still there. Once again you are pulling him back down for a kiss. His lips still find yours in the darkness, his tongue in your mouth as he angles his body to press against yours. A sizzle seems to shoot up your spine – it is as if the darkness makes it easier to speak, to think, without seeing Hwa directly and having that attention on you.

Hwa’s hands are running across your body, touching you all over carefully, waiting for you to signal that you’re ready to keep going. His lips are back on your neck as he nibbles there, adding more marks to the collection. Emboldened by the darkness, your hand covers one of his and pulls it upward toward your neck.

He pauses, lifting his head up from your neck. You can feel his steady breath against your skin, can hear the low timber of his voice against the backdrop of the storm when he goes, “Tell me.”

“Squeeze my neck,” You murmur and Hwa does so, his hand tightening around your skin.

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation. He is so close to you now that your body is starting to scream for him once more but he seems content to keep you lusting for him in the darkness.

“Do you like that?”

You nod, knowing he can feel the motion.

“You like being treated like this by me?”

Another nod.

His breathing is changing. Subtle, just enough for you to realize how much he is enjoying how you submit to him, that you’ve touched yourself to him doing these things to you before the two of you even met.

“You really are just a perfect little whore,” Hwa says, releasing his hold just enough for you to sharply inhale and then he tightens once more, “It’s a shame I can’t see you right now, see how beautiful you look with my hand around your neck.”

He lets go, fully removing his boxers, the ruffle of fabric as it is tossed onto the floor before he shifts onto your body. It is an intoxicating sensation to have him skin to skin and your hands curl around his shoulders as your legs wrap around his small waist.

His cock is hard pressing against your thigh. The next kiss is messier, his spit in your mouth, his entire being taking over all your senses. Unable to see him, you have to go off the other senses like the small grunt of approval he makes when you arch your hips in a silent plea to fuck you and the ragged change of his breathing.

Hwa slips inside you easily from all the orgasms, your pussy slick with your wetness and his spit. He fills you to the hilt, his hips meeting yours as you take his entire cock in one swift motion. Your head rolls back, a moan toppling from in between your swollen lips as your hold onto his shoulder tightens.

He curls around your body, gripping the sheets next to your head as he slowly thrusts in your cunt. You no longer feel like yourself but instead as a being intertwined with Hwa so that your senses overlap with one another. Hwa curses quietly and bites down on your earlobe, giving it a sharp tug with his teeth.

“My whore,” He growls in your ear with a sort of lust you’ve never heard from anyone else before especially directed at you, “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

His lips find yours and you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth which elicits a groan of approval of him. The kiss deepens, his tongue is in your mouth, and you can feel some spit getting on your chin. You don’t even know who it belongs to and you don’t care. You’re bucking your hips to meet his ever quickening thrusts, your bodies growing hot together as the fucking continues.

“Say it again,” You plead in a broken voice and you don’t need to clarify what you’re asking to be repeated.

“My whore,” He grunts and thrusts particularly hard, driving his cock deeper in your soaking wet cunt, “You going to let me fuck you again after this? No more needing to watch my streams, I’ll fuck you into my fucking mattress any time you want.”

The words are too good to be true and you hope he isn’t just saying them because of how turned on he is. Your reply is a broken plea, half gibberish, half words and Hwa pushes away from you, grabbing your legs and bringing your feet onto his shoulders.

He leans forward, folding you like a doll as his hips snap against yours at a brisk pace. Your pussy is obscenely wet and you can hear it even if you cannot see him. Unable to hold onto Hwa, your hands grip the bedsheets so hard that they might tear.

“Hwa,” You gasp out and he knows – he knows because his hands are back around your neck and he’s fucking you into the bed, squeezing your throat while pounding into your cunt.

“You like when I choke you like this, you little whore? I know you do. I don’t even need to see your face to know how much you love it. I can tell by how your pussy tightens around me, by your whimpers and moans,” He says in an unsteady voice, sounding like sandpaper as his own orgasm draws just as close as yours, “Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Where do you want my load? You already took two of them down your throat, my slut.”

Hwa lets go of your neck but his pace is relentless. You are seconds away from finishing but manage to gasp out, “In my pussy, finish in my pussy. Choke me while I cum.”

Hwa, just like the rest of the night, where he has maintained the illusion of control while you’ve been the one in command, obeys. His hands are back where they belong and with one final thrust, you’re climaxing yet again.

“F-fuck,” He grunts, “You’re too tight clamping down on me like that –” His hands are off your neck, gripping the bed sheets next to your head once again.

Hwa shudders as he unloads in your cunt, filling you up with his warmth as you rock your hips against him, making sure that every drop of his cum is inside you. The two of you are making a ton of noise together as the final climax of the night goes on. Hwa pulls away from you so that your legs flop against the bed and his hands move to your back, pressing you against him.

He is kissing you as your climax winds down. Your bodies are slick with sweat, a collection of limbs wrapped around one another as if one of you, both of you, are afraid to lose each other in the darkness. As your intense orgasm begins to subside, Hwa lowers his head against your chest. The sound of your panting fills your ears; it feels as if you just ran a race.

Perfectly timed, the power returns. The purple light fills the room, making you wince as your eyes grow adjusted to the soft hue. Hwa carefully untangles himself from you, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. His back is to you, the snake once again in your clear view.

His cum is smeared against your thighs, leaking out from in between your folds. You have never had this many orgasms in one night before and your entire body is exhausted.

Hwa slips out of the bed, opening the door and leaving, giving no care to his nakedness on display. You can see a light flick on in the kitchen, spilling into the narrow hallway as he rummages around for water. When he returns, he has two bottles as he shuts the door again before getting back into bed.

You prop yourself up, uncapping the water and drinking half of it promptly. Hwa finishes his entire bottle in a few gulps before turning his attention to you, who is now preoccupied with trying to get the sheet to cover up your body a bit.

“Getting modest on me?” He asks, still slightly of breath.

Your face grows warm at his words, grows warmer when he moves closer to you, draped out across the bed. Now that you can see him again, and his full attention is on you with no buffer, you feel shy – utterly ridiculous given what you just spent ages doing with him.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask suddenly.

He raises one eyebrow, and distantly you think he would look good with a piercing there too. “Be a little more specific?”

Your grip tightens around the water bottle and it crackles a little from the pressure. “About us doing this again. About me being your….” You trail off, swallowing hard.

Hwa breaks out in a slow grin and goes, “Yeah, I meant it. I think we could have a lot of fun together,” He hesitates, the first time since meeting him, and adds, “I think it could be more than fun, if you understand what I mean.”

You did and it is enough to capitulate your heart into the stratosphere. He leans forward and his lips are against yours in the softest kiss of the night. The hold on the water bottle lessens as you melt into it, into him. His hands are on your cheeks, thumbs brushing your skin. When the kiss breaks, there is a shifting of energy that feels almost like a release of all the tension and anxiety that has bubbled in your chest ever since you stumbled into his stream all that time ago.

“My little whore,” Hwa says so affectionally that it feels like a cosmic shift in the usage of the word forever.

And he kisses you again.

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#ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fics #ateez fics #kpop fic #attention #500 notes #1000 notes #1500 notes #2000 notes #2500 notes

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norrussell · 6 months

Text

Lipstick Kisses | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: on a night out, Lando and you can't wait to go home and get your hands on each other

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, a bit kinky, Lando and the reader being switches, tying up only for a few moments

A/N: did I come up with this while sitting on a pile of requests? Absolutely, but hear me out. When I saw Lando that night out in Mexico I just couldn't resist. He's a walking inspiration. This is the piece I've put my whole being into, please leave me some feedback and don't let it flop ♡

The clear sky was a deep cobalt blue and the stars were twinkling like a million tiny fireflies. The air was cool and still, a gentle breeze rustling through, carrying the distinct smell of the city with it. The streetlamps were glowing, a mix of blues, pinks and greens while the hum of the traffic filled the air. In the distance, the city skyline glimmered with a hundred thousand windows, the tallest building reaching far into the sky. The air was alive with sound and light, the city exhaling its never ending energy.

Lando and you were in his car, heading towards the club. As you drove, the sultry voice of Lana Del Rey filled the car, the melodious tunes blending perfectly with the city's bright lights. Lando's eyes were fixed on the road, but you could feel his gaze on you from time to time. You wore a tight-fitting black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, your long hair cascading down your shoulders in loose waves. You knew you looked good, with your smoky eye makeup and red lipstick, and you could sense Lando's hunger growing with each passing moment.

As you stepped out of the car, the sound of thumping bass and raucous laughter hit you. The neon sign of the club flickered above you, illuminating the crowds of people waiting to get in. Taking your hand, Lando guided you inside. The smell of alcohol and perfume mixed together as soon as you walked in, with the music permeating every corner of the place.

Lando led you to the VIP section where the drinks flowed freely. You took a sip of your cocktail and let the alcohol warm your body. Lando leaned in close to you, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you want to dance?"

Without hesitation, you took his hand and led him to the crowded dance floor. The beat of the music pulsed through your body, and you lost yourself in the rhythm. Lando's hands gripped your hips as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your neck. You could feel the heat between you growing, and your body responded in kind.

It was as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just you and Lando to revel in each other's company. As the music changed to a slower, sensual beat, Lando's hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the lines of your curves. You could feel his hard muscles pressed against you, the heat of his body making you gasp.

Lando's lips found yours, his tongue slipping past your lips. Your body tingled with desire as you felt his hands sliding down to your thighs, pulling you up against him. The music was the only thing keeping you grounded, the rhythm pulsing through you, guiding your movements.

As the song came to an end, Lando leaned down and whispered in your ear “I can’t wait to take you home.”

You smiled and ran a thumb over his bottom lip, removing a red smudge from your lipstick.

"I can't wait either," you replied, your voice thick with desire.

Lando's eyes darkened, and he took your hand, leading you back to the VIP section. The alcohol had gone to your head, but you didn't care. Tonight was about letting go and having fun.

Once you were back at the table, Lando ordered another round of drinks. As you waited, his hand snaked up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

The drinks arrived, and you downed yours in one gulp, feeling its warmth spreading through your body. Lando's hand moved higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your dress. Loud music drowned out your moan, feeling the heat between your legs growing.

“Lando,” you stained his neck. “Take me home.”

His jaw clenched at the tone of your voice and hand on your thigh grasped you tighter. Without hesitating, Lando beckoned for the bill, paid with a black card and led you out of the club, his hand gripping yours. You headed quickly to the car, your heels clicking against the pavement. You giggled as you got into the passenger seat, feeling lightheaded from the alcohol.

Lando's car rolled into the underground parking lot, the tires squealing slightly as he pulled up to your place. He turned off the car, but left the engine running. Leaning over he pulled you close, your lips meeting in a searing kiss. His hands trailed up your dress, edging it up until it clung to the tops of your legs. You moaned into his mouth as you felt his fingers slide up your inner thighs, pushing aside the lace of your panties.

You pulled away, your body throbbing in desire. "Not here," you gasped. "And the elevator is too small..."

Lando grinned, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, circling around to your door. He opened it and pulled you out, taking you into his arms. You could feel his hard cock pressed against your leg, indicating he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

He pulled you away from the car slowly, guiding you towards the elevators. You stepped inside, and he hit the button for the penthouse. The doors slid shut and the elevator began to climb. Your heart raced, your breaths coming in short gasps as you felt Lando's hands on your hips. He kissed you hard, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. His fingers trailed down your neck, dipping into the top of your dress to caress your breasts. You moaned softly, feeling heat radiate from between your legs.

The elevator came to a stop and Lando looked deeply into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours in a final kiss that left you breathless. You were the first to leave the elevator, making your way to the bedroom and taking your dress off as you went. Lando's eyes were focused on your body, taking in the sight of you as you stepped out of your heels.

“Like what you see?” you teased, holding only the top of the dress over your frame.

“More than you could possibly imagine.” Lando’s eyes took in your curves, and he lunged towards you, dragging you onto the bed beneath him. He began to kiss every inch of your naked skin, wrapping his lips around your nipples as he tore the dress off, and sliding his tongue across your stomach.

His hands glided up the back of your thighs, pulling you towards him. The heat of his breath against your thigh sent a shiver through your figure, and your pussy ached with need. He skillfully removed your thong, making you moan as he slid a finger inside of you, his mouth moving to your clit. He flicked the soft nub between his teeth, causing your body to writhe in pleasure. You whimpered as you felt his fingers slip deeper into you, moving in and out in time with his tongue.

You arched your back as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You were so close to coming, and Lando seemed to know exactly where to touch you. You gasped, feeling your whole being exploding in ecstasy. Lando brought you to the edge over and over again, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging him to stop.

Lando's hands trailed up your figure, caressing your breasts. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you deep, his tongue exploring every crevice of yours. You could taste your own juices on his lips and tongue, and the heat between your legs began to burn once more. You slid your hand down Lando's sides and grasped his cock, starting to rub him over the pants.

He moaned into your mouth as you stroked him gently, the other hand yanking on the chains around his neck, pulling him deeper into your mouth. You parted your legs, inviting him in. He teased you, grinding and rubbing his hardness against you. You could feel his cock throbbing with desire, begging to be buried deep within you.

You used a moment of his carelessness to wrap your legs tight around him and flip you around. You straddled him, pinning his arms on each side of his head.

“You’re such a tease.” he bit into his lower lip to stop his smile from spreading, admiring your naked physique on top of him.

“I’m about to tease you a lot more.” you said as you pushed your hips forward.

You buried your head into his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. You let go of his wrists -which he didn’t even bother moving- and unbuttoned his black shirt, your lipstick kisses marking every inch of toned skin. Removing the shirt and tossing it aside, Lando raised his arms above his head, giving you enough access to his chest. His muscles were firm and strong, and it made you ache for more. Kissing his upper body tenderly, you covered his collarbones in your lips’ red imprints. And every freckle and birthmark was kissed in a perfect heart-shaped pattern.

Lando groaned as you wrapped your hands around his torso and slid your pussy up and down his denim jeans. The fabric was so thin it made it easy for you to feel his hard cock pressing against you, begging for release. You let your lips graze his neck, your breasts pressed up against his bare chest. He started to move, thrusting his hips towards yours. The heat between you was undeniable, and you could tell he was holding back as much as you were.

You sat up, gazing into his eyes as you ran your hands down his abdomen. Reaching down and undoing his belt, you pulled it out from its loops. You wrapped the leather around his wrists, and pulled him towards the bedpost. You bit your lip, watching his body tug against the restraint, his muscles straining against the leather. You ran your hand over his dick, feeling it throb between your fingers.

“I want you to know who owns you.” you whispered, wrapping the other end of the belt around the bedpost. He was your prisoner, and you were his captor.

He watched you, his expression unreadable. You placed a final kiss on his lips and slid down his body, freeing his cock from its confines, squeezing it firmly. He groaned as he felt the leather holding him back when he reached for you. You ran your hand up and down, squeezing tighter with each pass. He let out a moan, and you stopped suddenly.

“No. Don’t stop.” Lando whined, his voice curling around you.

“You want me to stop?” you bit your lip, grinding into him.

“No!” he said, his voice cracking. “Please, don’t stop.” he panted.

You looked up at him, giving him a mischievous smile before sliding your hot mouth over his hard cock. He moaned, instantly forgetting about his hands being tied up. You pressed your lips tight, your tongue swirling around his tip. He cursed softly under his breath, enjoying the sensation. You took him all the way in, letting your lips swallow his hot, firm cock, moaning as you hit the back of your throat.

Lando pulled at the belt, trying to free his hands as you took him deeper, sucking harder. He moaned, the pleasure choking his words. You slid your mouth off his cock and gave the tip a few kisses. Locking eyes with him, you glided your mouth over his cock once more, this time faster.

You let your hands skim over his thighs, gripping hard as you bobbed your head up and down. You felt him twitch in your mouth, and you pulled away, looking up at him. He looked back at you, with a wide eyed expression.

“Please, don’t stop.” he begged again, leaning his head back against the bed.

You gripped his cock, running your tongue over the shaft. You circled the tip with it, tasting the sweet flavor of his desire as it dripped from him. You felt the cool air caress the wetness that lingered around your lips.

“Please.” he whispered again.

You reached up and undid the belt around his wrists. You let him free his hands, and he wrapped one around your neck, pulling you into a kiss as he let the other roam down your back. He drew you towards him, reaching down to cup your hot pussy. His fingers explored your lips before moving to your clit, rubbing softly. He nudged your body towards the bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply, his lips dancing across yours and chains clinking with every motion.

The heat of his body against yours made you ache even more as you felt the wetness between your legs. You wanted him so bad you could taste it.

“Please, I want you.” you moaned.

“Please what?” it was his turn to tease you.

“I want you so bad.” you let your fingers trace down his chest.

“That’s right. Beg for it.” he relished in your neediness.

“Please, fuck me.” you said, your voice high pitched and out of control. “Please, fuck me right now.”

He slid his hand across your body, taking your hand, and pressed it against the bed. He stared into your eyes, his hand holding yours. You knew he wanted you to beg more, but you wouldn’t let him have it. You bit your lip, and his green eyes narrowed. He freed your hand, guiding it with his own, nipping at your lip and kissing it gently.

You smiled at him, and his grip tightened. He teased you, gliding his body over yours. The feel of his hard cock pressing against you only drove your desire for him higher. You moaned as you felt it go over your clit, sending shivers through you. You wrapped your legs tight around him, wanting to feel him all the way inside you.

Lando stared into your eyes, sucking your lower lip into his mouth. He let go of your hand and moved from your mouth to your neck. Your breath caught as he continued trailing kisses along your throat and shoulders. He suckled your sensitive skin, and your nails slid across his bare back, making him hiss in response as you dug them into his flesh, leaving red lines.

His lips found your breast, and his tongue swept over your hardened nipple. He took it into his mouth and sucked on it, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you felt him kneading it with his lips. You bit down on your lower lip to stifle the moan that rose in your throat. His teeth grazed against the sensitive bud, and you gasped, your back arching involuntarily in response.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” he whispered into your ear.

He encircled your legs with his arms and you embraced him in return, squeezing your thighs around his waist. His lips crashed against yours, passionately expressing the feelings that had been building up between the two of you for far too long. And when he pressed himself into you, it was clear that he'd been yearning for this as much as you were.

Lando moved his hips, grinding into you. You felt him moving deeper inside you, and you moaned into his mouth. He pulled his hips back and slammed them forward again. Your body moved back and forth, as he thrust into you again and again. He rubbed your clit, and you felt the tingles building inside you, the soft waves radiating out from your hips. You whimpered, as you felt it building up, closer and closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” he grunted as he thrust into you again, and your body tightened, shaking against him. You broke away from his kiss, your eyes closed and head thrown back. You bit your lip, sustaining a scream, letting out a deep moan instead, waves crashing up against you again.

He leaned back, thrusting his hips harder, and fingers pressing against your clit. Your hips ground against him, meeting each desperate thrust. You were lost in a sea of pleasure, your head spinning. You took him deeper inside you, grinding against him as your body shook.

The waves crashed into you, and you felt them rippling through your body, waves of pleasure that you could do nothing but ride out. Your moans were loud, and you didn’t even care. He thrust into you, over and over, your moans mixing together. You felt the last of the pleasure wash over you, your body rendered boneless.

“You’re mine.” his chains dangled over you as he leaned to whisper into your ear.

They landed in your mouth, your teeth tugging on them, urging him to begin thrusting again, to move with you as you rode out the last of the waves. Your body felt less sensitive, but he just felt so good. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tight. You moaned, meeting his thrusts as he started to move quicker and faster. He felt the heat between your legs as you felt him twitch, and you moaned again, pressing your lips into his shoulder.

“You ready?” he said, his voice hoarse.

You felt the warmth spread through you, and your pussy tightened, trying to squeeze his cock. His moans increased as his hips quickened their tempo. You sucked on his neck, licking over his collar bone, all your previous artwork smudged. He bit down on your shoulder, and grew even more aroused. The heat inside you intensified, your hips moving wildly in sync with his.

He pounded into you, his cock sliding in and out of your tight, wet pussy. You could feel yourself panting more rapidly as the intensity of the moment began reaching a boiling point, your moans increasing in volume with every stroke.

You heard him grunt, his cock twitching inside you. Your pussy squeezed him, and he groaned. You kissed him, hard, and he broke away from you. He stared into your eyes, his forehead touching yours as sweat glistened on his skin. You whimpered, and his eyes closed, mouth soundlessly hanging open.

He thrust into you one last time, his cock quivering deep inside you. You felt the warmth fill you up, and you moaned out. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt yourself slowly drifting back to reality.

Lando collapsed on top of you, his arms wrapped around you, making you fit inside him, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. You felt your body shaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm. You could feel his cock still jerking slightly inside you, causing soft moans to escape you as you came down from your high.

He rolled off you and gathered you in his arms, pulling you close. You let out a sigh of contentment as he caressed your arm and pressed his lips against your forehead. He looked into your eyes, the love evident on his face.

“I love you,” he said softly.

You smiled and ran your hand through his sweat dampened curls, feeling warmth fill your heart. You touched his face with both hands, gazing into his eyes.

“I love you too," you whispered back before the sound of his steady heart beat lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

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punkshort · 8 days

Text

i know who you are | 7. the week

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel is on a mission to win you back. You struggle with your feelings and visit an old friend for some perspective.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, physical violence, wounds/blood/injuries/gore, vague reference to suicide (Joel remembering his incident after Sarah), alcohol consumption, non-descriptive smutty memory, mentions of murder (adults and children), mentions of pregnancy (not reader)

WC: 7.7K

A/N: I took some liberties with the background of the Fireflies, it's not exactly canon.

Series Masterlist

Somewhere in Northern California

It took two days.

Two full days of freezing temperatures and frigid wind as he traversed up and down mountains, through snow covered forests with little to no shelter, but he finally made it. Right before nightfall, he approached the edge of the town you grew up in. The town your parents still lived in ten years ago. The town that holds a history of you and everything you hold dear.

It was too dark and he was too tired to enter the town and go any further, but fortune smiled upon him for the first time since he left Jackson when he spotted a dilapidated woodshed tucked into the forest. It was small, no bigger than a bedroom, but it would do. It would be the first time in two days he would get to sleep with a roof over his head, and he desperately needed it.

He grossly overestimated his ability to survive out in the wild. He did it before, of course, but life in Jackson made him soft. Made him complacent. Made him weak.

Time took its toll on his body. His age was an offensive reminder every time his knees creaked or his back twinged. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as strong. But he was determined and stubborn, two things that would never change.

With hands trembling from the cold, he jabbed his knife into the lock and broke it with ease, a small triumph in an otherwise unforgiving journey. The shed was mostly empty, save for a pile of wood and an axe. Plenty of room for both him and the horse.

After he scattered some oats on the floor, he grabbed his rifle and marched back out into the snowy tundra to do a perimeter check, knowing he would fall asleep the moment he allowed himself to slow down. By the time he deemed the area safe, he retreated back into the woodshed and lit a fire in the tiny furnace to warm up a bit.

Once he got feeling back in his fingers, he cracked open some stew and ate it cold straight from the can, too impatient to warm it up and too eager to get some rest. The wind howled outside, practically screaming at him with every gust: How could you say that to me?

The horse nickered softly, her head lowered, one back leg cocked as she began to doze off. He laid on the wooden floor, partially resting inside his sleeping bag, ready to strike if there was an intruder. The back of his wrist laid against his forehead while he stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering for the umpteenth time if what he was doing was even going to work. If he would even be capable of finding your house in this town, let alone finding any pictures still in good enough condition to bring back to you.

But it was all he had.

You had mentioned to him when he was sick, after you saw the photo of Sarah, how you wished you had pictures of your family. You looked so somber and distant and he was once again reminded that even though you lost them ten years ago, in your mind you only lost them months ago.

He couldn't imagine losing Sarah twice. Waking up one day, thinking she was alive and healthy and late for school just to be told she was killed mercilessly ten years prior and died in his arms. You were so much stronger than him. You always were. You were told your whole world changed, your family gone, and then tossed into a house with him, pressured by everyone every damn day to regain your memories and become a completely different person when he knew deep down if the same had happened to him, his answer would lie at the end of a barrel. But unlike before, he might not flinch.

You really fucking hurt me, Joel.

He rubbed his face aggressively, the pain and anguish in your voice haunting him. This trip left him with too much time to get lost in his thoughts, too much time to wallow in his grief and replay every single painful memory from the past several days.

Sighing, he dropped his hands to his chest and tried to think about something else. Letting his eyes drift shut, he let his mind wander back to before. Before your accident, before he fucked everything up, back to a time when you were happy and stupidly in love.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" he heard your voice behind him.

He grinned as he stirred a pot of sauce on the stove while you wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his back.

"My accent rubbin' off on you now?"

You giggled and let go, walking over to grab the bottle of whiskey and pouring you each a glass.

"Maybe."

You handed him his glass and clinked them together before taking a sip.

"How was patrol?" he asked, turning his attention back to the pasta.

"Boring," you replied, hopping up onto the counter next to him, swinging your legs back and forth. "Jesse has a lot of work to do. He's not seasoned enough to be out there without one of us."

He nodded thoughtfully and lifted the spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. "Needs lemon," you said, licking your upper lip while he snatched a lemon from a basket in the corner of the kitchen and sliced it in half.

"Yeah, I know, but he's got potential. Just gotta get him to focus a bit more. Gotta be more aware of his surroundings."

You hummed and rubbed the back of your neck with a wince.

"You hurtin'?" he asked, but you shook your head immediately.

"Just tired."

"You sure?" he said while he strained the pasta. "I can rub your neck later."

"Oh, well in that case, yes. I'm absolutely aching over here," you said with a smile.

"Don't tempt me, baby," he told you, setting down the pot before wedging himself between your knees, his hands rubbing over your thighs. "Might not stop at your neck."

"Is that right?" you teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth playfully.

"Mhmm. First it's your neck, then shoulders," he said, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips, "then your back," he dragged his hands up your back and pressed you forward, nearly pulling you off the counter.

"Then what?" you asked breathlessly, arms loosely draping around the back of his neck.

"Before y'know it, you'll be pullin' at my belt, tellin' me you got an ache someplace else 'n you need me to stuff you full of my cock." His hands dragged up and down your back, his mouth nipping gently at your throat as you tipped your head back with a gasp.

"You know me so well," you murmured, a lazy smirk spreading across your face when you felt the urgency behind his touch.

"Yeah I do, baby," his words getting lost against your skin, "know you like the back of my hand. Know what makes you tick. What makes you feel good. Know what makes you scream my fuckin' name." His lips slotted over yours urgently, the pasta cold and long forgotten as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close.

"Take me to bed, Joel," you begged after you pulled your head away, breaking the kiss and then quickly latching onto his neck. "Need you. I want - shit!" you cursed when one of you accidentally pushed a plate off the counter and it smashed into pieces against the floor.

"Leave it, don't care," he said, picking you up and pulling your attention off the shards of ceramic littering the floor. "I'll clean it up later."

His eyes popped open, the echo of your giggle from that night bouncing around his skull. It was almost laughable now, thinking he felt lonely before compared to how he felt in the middle of fucking nowhere with only a sleeping horse to keep him company.

He wasn't stupid. He knew he would need to do more than bring home some pictures to convince you to forgive him. But it was a start, and maybe, just maybe with time, you would come to understand what you meant to him.

And if he was really lucky, he might end up meaning something to you, too.

It was stupid and it didn't mean anything.

That's what you kept telling yourself ever since Joel left and you found yourself curling up in his bed at night instead of yours.

His bed was more comfortable. His room didn't store the bad memories of your fight. It was simply easier to sleep there.

It certainly didn't have anything to do with the way the sheets still smelled like him. Like the soap you both used combined with the outdoors and a hint of his sweat. And on the third night when you picked out a flannel of his from the closet and wrapped it around yourself, it was only because it was a particularly frigid night.

You didn't miss him.

Well, you missed having another person in the house, sure. But you didn't miss him on some deeper level. Maria and Ellie were wrong. They had no idea what they were talking about. They had no idea what was going through your head, what you were feeling, what you were struggling with.

There was no possible way you could have feelings for Joel. Not after everything he did and said. Not after the lies and the cheating and the deception.

But then why, when you were struggling to fall asleep at night, did your mind always wander back to the way he looked at you in the meadow, or the way his arms felt wrapped around you on the back of the horse, or the way he made you laugh when you played Monopoly?

And why did it feel like a part of you left with him that night?

"Pathetic," you muttered to yourself, pulling the sheets tighter and rolling over onto your side, his soft, worn flannel like butter against your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the memories from your mind and instead, replaying what he told you about the hospital.

He almost killed you. He was seconds away from putting a bullet in your head and only after presumably begging for your life did he let you go, and then he had the nerve to keep that information from you not only once, but fucking twice.

He was protecting Ellie.

But he still shouldn't have lied.

With a groan, you rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, sleep so far out of reach you didn't even feel like trying anymore. Then a thought occurred to you:

You weren't the only one he let live. There were two other people in Jackson who were there, who were shown mercy and didn't appear to hold any resentment towards him for it. In fact, they seemed rather happy with the second chance they were given.

You hadn't seen Ben or Lisa in a long time. The opportunity never presented itself for you to seek any perspective from them about that day.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

It took him a few hours to scope out the town and venture out of the woods, but by late morning he was heading down what looked to be one of the main thoroughfares in town, eyes squinting against the blowing snow as he tried to pinpoint the location of town hall.

All he remembered was your street name but he had absolutely no idea how to find it, so his plan was to break into the town hall and find a map. From there, he prayed Ellie's drawing was truly accurate enough to narrow down your parents' house.

He was freezing. His face was numb and his back was fucking killing him from riding so much, but he was so close. If he was lucky, he could find your house, get what he needed and head out all before nightfall. Maybe he could even spend another night in the woodshed. It wasn't so bad. At least he was warm.

As he continued to steer his horse down another road, he couldn't help but think Tommy was right about the storm. It was providing him some cover, just in case there were survivors around that wouldn't take kindly to his intrusion. He just hoped it would blow through in a day so his ride back would be clear.

After another thirty minutes of wind whipping at his face, the cold penetrating his coat and several layers underneath, he finally saw it. It was a smaller building than he imaged it to be, but the sign was clear. Hoping that the town size was as small as the town hall, he steered his mare down the drive and through the parking lot, making sure to take in his surroundings, confirming he was truly alone before he slid down from the saddle and trudged through the snow to the front doors.

He wiped away the snow from the window, peering inside before heading to another one and doing the same. It appeared to be empty so he tried the door, unsurprisingly finding it locked. He pulled out his knife and worked on the lock, his fingers stiff and his ears so cold he could barely feel them anymore. Finally, he broke the lock but when he shoved the door, there was something blocking him on the other side.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing around, kicking and dusting snow off the surrounding area, looking for a brick or a rock. Giving up, he grabbed his rifle from the saddle and angrily made his way to the nearest window, smashing the butt of his gun against the glass repeatedly until it shattered. He gasped for air, not realizing how much energy he was exerting before he continued, knocking out as much of the glass as he could.

Sticking his head inside, he looked around. The place seemed empty. It was quiet, covered in dust and debris. Untouched dust was good. It meant nobody had been there in a while. Human or otherwise.

He crawled through the window, taking great care to not catch on any jagged edges. He held his breath, ears straining for any noise that might give someone away, but all he heard was the howling wind outside. This is your fault. Still, he kept his guard up. He walked room to room, finding his way to the lobby and searching the front desk for a map.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he grumbled as he opened and shut each drawer in the desk, only pausing to snatch up an old protein bar and shoving it in his pocket.

With a sigh, he looked around the room. There were a couple benches, chairs that were moved and tipped over, papers scattered about but his eyes were drawn to the portraits on the wall. There were a few paintings of men he would never recognize, unknown sheriffs and mayors, and some framed pictures of the staff, but the one that really drew his attention was the large map on the wall next to the front doors.

It was a road map of the town. Simple, but it was all he needed. He rounded the desk and shined his flashlight over the map, studying it, searching for where he was before looking for your street.

"Grant Street."

"Grant?" he repeated, his fingers lightly skirting up and down your bare back.

"Mhmm," you confirmed, eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips as you buried your face into his neck.

"That's funny," he said, his hand wandering past your waist and over your ass.

"Why's that?"

"Grant's my Mama's maiden name."

Your eyes opened and locked onto his. "Maybe it's fate, then."

Maybe it was.

Grant was only four blocks north. It didn't look like a very long road, either.

He could do this.

He was so close.

Lisa answered the door with the same look of surprise as before, although this time she was clutching needles and yarn in her left hand while the fire quietly crackled behind her.

"Hey," you said, arms wrapped around yourself as the snow storm continued to swirl behind you. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!" Lisa said, stepping back, "how rude of me. Can I get you something warm to drink?" She closed the door behind you and took a step towards the kitchen. "I just boiled some water for tea, it's still hot."

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you," you said as you hung up your coat and scarf, trying your best not to make a mess of melted snow all over her floor.

She told you to make yourself comfortable while she prepared your tea, so you wandered into her tiny living room, the space seeming a little larger now without your two imposing men.

"Where's Ben?"

"Working," she said, setting down a teacup and saucer next to hers. "I put a little sugar in it."

"Oh, thank you, that's perfect. I like it sweet," you replied, sitting down on the same couch as before and bringing the cup to your lips.

"I know, I remember," she said, and when she sat down and fixed her billowy top, you noticed for the first time the small bump protruding low on her hips.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and she followed your gaze.

"Oh, yes," her tone soft, "I'm due this spring."

"Wow. Congratulations, Lisa. That's wonderful, I had no idea. I thought I would have seen you from time to time at the infirmary," you explained, setting down your tea.

"Nick agrees to see me after hours, sometimes he makes house calls," she said, picking up her needles again.

You titled your head to the side. "Why do you want to be seen after hours?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes fixed on the yellow blanket she was making. "I still find it difficult sometimes to face some of the others in town, I suppose. I know I shouldn't but the guilt sticks with me."

"Guilt?"

Her eyes flicked up to yours and she shifted her weight. "I know Ben mentioned the Fireflies to you." She held out her wrist, showing you the small moth-like symbol tattooed there. "I'm not sure how much you know or remember-"

"Actually, that's why I'm here," you said, taking a deep breath. "Joel told me everything. About the Fireflies. About the hospital."

Her eyes widened, the needles abandoned in her lap.

"Oh."

"Yeah," you said, chewing on your lip and glancing at the fire. "He told me what he did there. Told me he spared us, let us go."

"Yes, he did," she agreed softly.

"Can you tell me more about that day?" you asked, dragging your eyes back to meet hers. "I'm having trouble understanding how I could have known this before and still managed to fall in love with him."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

You laughed dryly and shrugged. "I mean he almost killed us. He killed countless innocent people, friends of ours I'm assuming, and I'm expected to believe I just looked past it? We just looked past it?" You motioned between the two of you. "He's a murderer, Lisa. He-"

"We're murderers," she corrected, and you fell silent. "We killed innocent people. We helped lead a revolution that resulted in hundreds of deaths, and where did that get us? Nowhere! People weren't any better off. In fact, they were worse. Friends and family killed, caught in the crossfire, tangled up in this idea of freedom and safety and giving their lives to an empty cause."

You swallowed as you watched Lisa's face, her eyes fiery and her tone hardened, transforming into a different version of herself before your very eyes.

"What Joel did..." she trailed off as she thought back to that day. "We did bad things. So did he, but he single handedly cut the Fireflies off at the legs. He stopped the insanity, stopped the war, stopped the ridiculous experiments and half baked ideas to save the world, regardless of the lives lost along the way. You don't remember, I understand, but allow me to explain."

"Please," you begged softly, "please tell me everything."

She rested a palm against her swelling stomach and leaned back. "We realized we made a mistake pretty early on," she began, "but we didn't have anywhere else to go. We had been living in the wild for so long. We were tired and hungry and weak and we fell for it. Fell for the sales pitch when they found us. We were told we wouldn't have to fight, but they didn't tell us what they expected us to do."

"W-what did we do?" you stammered, sitting on the edge of your seat.

"We killed people. Innocent people, point blank. FEDRA soldiers. Civilians who ratted out our location for extra food for their family. Children-" her voice wobbled a bit as she looked down at her stomach. "Children who were experimented on, vaccine prototypes tested on, who became horribly disfigured a-and screaming in pain, begging to be put out of their misery-"

"Okay," you said, cutting her off and taking a deep breath, unable to hear much more. It was becoming clear why Joel kept this from you, and although you had a right to know, you were beginning to understand his motivation. He was trying to protect you.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, flicking a tear from her cheek, "we planned on getting out. We couldn't do it anymore. Then, Joel showed up."

You held your breath, waiting for her to continue.

"We were doing perimeter checks. Loosening a spot in the gate so we could sneak out later that night. Then we heard the gunshots. And at first, we thought some infected got in. It was the perfect distraction, so we grabbed our gear and made a run for it."

She paused to take a sip from her tea, her eyes looking miles away.

"We almost made it. We were in the parking garage loading up a vehicle when he snuck up behind us. Told us to lay face down on the ground with our hands behind our heads. We never saw him and it wasn't until later we found out he was all alone. The whole time we were convinced it had to have been a group of men. It seemed impossible for one man to do what he did, but somehow..."

She trailed off again and cleared her throat.

"He gave us a second chance when we didn't deserve it," she said solemnly. "You and Ben dealt with the weight of what we did far better than me. I still struggle with the guilt, I can't..." she looked up at you, "I hope you never remember."

A chill went down your spine and you nodded.

"Try not to hold it against him," she said, offering you a small smile. "We've all done terrible things. It's not all black and white."

It ain't black and white.

"Yeah, okay," you replied quietly, standing up from the couch, your mind reeling. "Thanks," you added, motioning to the tea before she walked you to the door, "and congratulations again."

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her belly, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm glad you stopped by. The truth is sometimes ugly, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to understand the whole picture." You nodded and bent over to shove on your boots. "Joel's not a bad man. I'm sure he was just trying to protect you by leaving some things out about our past. He would have told you eventually."

When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em.

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that now," you said, shrugging on your coat with a wry smile.

The whole way home, you practically kicked yourself for not visiting Lisa sooner. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. But it finally felt like a missing puzzle piece was back in place and you could begin to make sense of your confusing feelings for Joel.

Ellie was incredibly talented.

He needed to make sure to remind her of that when he got home because even through the blowing snow, in near whiteout conditions, he was still able to figure out which house was yours because Ellie's drawing was so detailed, so accurate that it almost felt like he had been there before.

He was eager and impatient. He just wanted to get inside and get what he needed and leave, but before he did, he peered inside the windows and did a walk around the whole house three times, just in case. It was a small brick ranch and if the snow wasn't so thick, he would be able to see the black shutters framing the front windows, just like in the drawing.

He shouldered open the side garage door first, a pile of fluffy snow spilling over the hard concrete as he stumbled in and shimmied open the roll top door so he could bring his mare inside.

He pat her between the eyes, murmuring his thanks for being so damn tough and sprinkled some more oats on the ground before slipping inside the house.

The door from the attached garage led right into a kitchen, which, by the looks of it, was rifled through on more than one occasion. No doubt some survivors had come through over the years and turned the place upside down for anything useful, but that didn't matter to him. What he needed wouldn't be stolen.

Glancing at the fridge, he paused when he saw some photos stuck to the door. He leaned his rifle against the wall and shook his head, curls flinging melted snow over the dusty floor, then bent over to examine the pictures. Most of them didn't have you and he began to worry he was in the wrong house after all, but then he saw it: at the very top was a picture of four people, all wearing summer clothes and Mickey Mouse ears with the Cinderella castle in the background. A middle aged man and woman bookended a young man, lean but muscular with his arm draped around your shoulders.

You were younger, maybe still in high school, and your hair was longer and lighter, but he would recognize that smile anywhere.

He carefully plucked the photo from the fridge and brought it closer, his eyes raking over every detail of the picture, from the brightness in your eyes to the cotton candy pink sky behind you.

You looked so happy.

Nothing like the way you looked when he last saw you: broken and bruised. Ruined and dejected. Because of him.

You spared my life just to break my heart.

He blinked and pocketed the photo before turning around. The living room was in worse condition. It appeared someone must have stayed there at one point because the couches were shifted around, an armchair wedged in front of the door, cushions flung around haphazardly.

He had to move furniture out of the way, dig around a bit through broken bookshelves, but he managed to finally unearth an old photo album. Resting on one of the couch cushions with a huff, he took a few moments to flip through it, smiling now and then when he saw an especially cute picture of you. The wind outside was howling so loudly, the old house creaking with every gust that he couldn't hear when footsteps slowly crept up behind him and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his own rifle.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He knew better. He should have scoped out the inside of the house before getting distracted. But he was too excited and too eager to get what he came for that he forgot his own rules. And he took for granted the snowstorm would hide his tracks.

Now he was hunched over on the living room floor, leaning against the wall with his wrists tied behind his back while five raiders went through his things.

"Hey man, don't you like peaches?"

"Fuck yeah I do, give it here."

Joel groaned, the back of his head throbbing, thick, sticky blood slowly trickling down the back of his neck.

"He's waking up."

"Hey, princess, how's the head?" one said with a sinister laugh. Joel ignored him.

"You got some nice shit. Wanna tell us where your camp is?"

Joel opened his eyes and glared at the man in front of him, wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves and a black bandana pulling his dark, wiry hair off his scarred face.

"Fuck you."

The punch came fast and hard across his jaw, making him see stars for a moment. The other men chuckled and got back to dividing up his things.

"You wanna try that again?" the first man asked, crouching down in front of him. Joel tugged on the rope holding his wrists together. The knot was tight but it wasn't foolproof. He just needed a little time to loosen it up.

"Don't got a camp."

"Bullshit," the man barked, spitting against the wall next to Joel's head. "Ain't nobody out here with this kinda gear and a goddamn horse roughing it all alone. Now, just tell us the city and we'll take it from there. We'll even let you live."

He heard one of the other men scoff but the rest remained quiet, and if Joel wasn't already convinced they were planning to kill him either way, he definitely was now.

"Boise."

"Boise?" he repeated, and Joel nodded, twisting his hands behind his back, feeling the coarse rope burn against his skin. The man in the leather jacket sighed and hung his head before landing another blow, this time across the mouth. Joel's lower lip got snagged on his teeth and tore. Blood trickled down his chin as he angrily whipped his head back towards the raider.

"I told you what you wanted!"

"You fed me a bunch of bullshit is what you did," he said, kicking Joel in the ribs. He gasped for air, doubled over against the wall, coughing and spraying blood across the faded floral wallpaper. He wondered if your parents did the wallpaper themselves, if your mom picked it out, or did the house already come like that?

Joel tugged harder on the rope, feeling it start to give. He needed to stay focused. He needed to make every move count if he wanted to get out of this alive.

The raider pulled a revolver from the back of his pants - Joel's revolver - and flipped it over in his hands. Back and forth, back and forth. Then he leaned forward and pressed the barrel against Joel's forehead.

"I'll give you one more chance, asshole," he said, his dark eyes boring into Joel's, "tell us where your camp is or else I shoot you in the fucking head."

"What the hell was he doing here anyway?"

"Shut up, Mike," the guy in the leather growled, eyes still trained on Joel.

"No, but seriously. There's nothing in this house worth taking. We've been through this neighborhood months ago."

The raider's eyes flickered around the room and Joel tugged harder on his restraints when he looked away. Then the man spotted the photo album lying face down on the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, lowering the gun and picking up the album. He began to flip through it and Joel felt the rope finally give. The raider let out a low whistle and slid a photo out to look at it closer. "Don't tell me you came out in the middle of a storm just to find something to jack off to," he teased, holding up a photo of you in a yellow bikini by a pool. He flipped the picture back around and grinned. When he went to stuff it in his pocket, his attention momentarily diverted, Joel took his opportunity to strike.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched the revolver from the raider's fingers and shot him in the temple, his body immediately falling limply to the side. Wet, sticky blood sprayed all over Joel's hand but he just tightened his grip on the gun, taking aim and bringing down another one of the men while they were still too stunned to move.

"Fuck!" one of the remaining three men screamed as they scrambled for cover. Joel ducked behind the couch and held his breath, straining to hear the scuffling of their boots, trying to pinpoint where they were in the small room. When he heard one of them accidentally knock against the kitchen table, the wooden legs scraping against the linoleum, he straightened up and took aim, taking out another man with a bullet right between the eyes, but unfortunately one of the last two men got a shot in as well.

The bullet grazed against his left bicep. Joel hissed and ducked back behind the couch. He would deal with it later.

"Come on, man, we can work something out," one of the men called out after a minute. "Let's just go our separate ways. Act like this never-"

Joel jumped up and shot the man in the cheek, the bullet traveling through his mouth and out the back of his head, leaving brain matter that looked like globs of gelatin dripping down the kitchen cupboards after he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Joel stepped towards the kitchen, now only one on one. He got cocky. He was feeling too confident with how quickly he took out the group. He didn't even see it coming when the knife lodged into his side, just above his hip. Without thinking, he yanked the knife out, twisted around and jammed it into the final raider's throat, watching as he fell to the floor, choking on his own blood, and didn't look away until he stopped twitching.

Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he used it to his advantage, his left hand pressing weakly against his wound, the wound in his arm preventing it from being very effective while he searched the dead bodies of the men for anything useful. He had brought some first aid with him when he left Jackson but he was too far from home, he would need antibiotics, at least, if he was going to make it back.

Of course, he came up empty, so he snatched his first aid kit from the table and stumbled down the little hallway, searching for a bathroom. He knew it was a lost cause, the raiders already admitted to clearing the place out months ago, but he had to try.

He flung open the medicine cabinet with a grunt, the pain beginning to set in now. Pressing his bloody fingers against the stab wound as hard as he could, he rummaged around the cabinet, leaving paths of red everywhere his fingers touched, then tried the drawers under the sink.

Nothing.

"Fuck," he muttered, collapsing onto the cool tile floor as he began to sort through his first aid kit. There were no towels left but he was sitting on an old bathmat. He groaned in pain when he lifted his hips to pull the bathmat out, shook out the dust and dirt, then pressed it against his side, bringing his knee up to hold it in place.

With trembling fingers, he threaded a needle. He wiped the blood from his hands on his shirt, but they were stained red. Ripping open his jacket and flannel, he lifted the two other layers he had on underneath and lowered his leg to get a look at the wound.

It was deep and he was losing a lot of blood, but he was fairly certain the knife wasn't long enough to knick any organs. His stomach wasn't swelling, that was a good sign.

He only had a small bottle of antiseptic, so he used most of it to clean the wound and then the needle, saving a little bit to use on his arm later.

He took several quick breaths in, hyping himself up, then paused when he first shoved the needle through his skin. Tears sprung up, blurring his vision, but he blinked them away.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In and out, in and out, he slowly stitched himself up. The angle was awkward and the stitches were ugly, but it got the job done: the bleeding stopped. His heart was hammering in his chest, sweat poured from the sides of his head, mixing with all the blood drying on his face and beard. He slumped to the ground with a pained groan, lying flat on the floor in a pool of his own blood, staring up at the ceiling. He just needed a moment to rest, a moment to catch his breath and then he would go.

Would he ever see you again? Would you ever even know why he came out there? Would you always wonder what happened to him? You told him you cared about him, but was that even true anymore? After what he did?

"C'mon, baby, gimme a sign," he whispered to himself, "gimme a sign that I still got a chance in hell 'cause if I don't, I'm not sure I got the strength to make it home." Tears welled up in his eyes again and this time he let them fall. He sniffled and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. Divine intervention? Genius to strike? A brilliant idea to form? But all he heard was the blowing wind outside.

The tile felt so cool against his burning hot skin. A small voice in the back of his head told him the longer he stayed there the weaker he would become, but he was just so tired. He rolled his head to the side, his eyes about to slide shut when he saw it: a dusty, opaque orange bottle rolled all the way against the wall underneath the sink.

Blinking a few times, he wondered if he was imagining it.

He wasn't.

Stretching his arm out, he slowly reached underneath the vanity and pulled out the half empty bottle. Holding it above his face, he squinted at the letters on the faded sticker.

Penicillin. Use as directed by your dentist.

His breath caught in his throat when he read your name on the label.

He finally got his sign.

"What happens when we die?"

"What?"

You rolled over onto your side to face him, wrapping your arm around his waist. He looked so peaceful, lying in bed like that. His eyes closed, face relaxed. You repeated your question.

"Don't know," he said, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Haven't died yet."

You giggled and he smiled, pulling you closer. He smelled so good. Like the rain and sex and smoke from the fire.

"I mean... do you think there's a heaven?"

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, his fingers lightly trailing up and down your bare arm.

"Yeah, I do."

You swallowed nervously and drew invisible circles into his skin, making him shiver.

"Do you think..." you trailed off and he froze, picking up on your tone.

"What, darlin'?"

"Do you think we'll make it? To heaven, I mean?"

His eyebrows pinched together. "Why wouldn't we?"

"You know why," you replied softly, "we've done bad things, Joel."

"Yeah, but we ain't bad people," he reminded you, then rolled over, pushing you onto your back so his arms caged you in. One knee slotted between yours and you spread your legs, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, dipping his chin down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing. "Besides, this is heaven right here," he murmured against your mouth, feeling you smile.

"Ain't nothin' better than this."

You awoke with a gasp, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. That was the first time you had a dream about Joel, and something about it made you uneasy.

You had slept in his bed the entire week, wrapped in his clothes, and today was the day you had expected him to come home. Shrugging off the dream to no more than your subconscious fixated on his return, you forced yourself to get out of bed, fixing the sheets so it wouldn't look like you had been sleeping there and then headed to your room to change and freshen up.

The past couple days you had secretly hoped he would come back sooner but you refused to let it show. If Ellie or Dina or Maria asked you about it, you played it cool, or at least you thought you did. But every night you stayed up as late as you could, curled up on the couch all alone, waiting. Every time someone walked by, your body stiffened and your pulse raced, expecting to hear his heavy footsteps walking up the porch, but they never came.

But today was the day. The seventh day. His note said a week, and you knew if Joel was alive, he would stick to his word.

His absence afforded you a lot of time to think. Time you didn't realize you desperately needed, and now that you were able to process everything clearly without his overwhelming presence muddying the waters, you felt confident you knew what you wanted now.

All day at work, you were distracted. Nick had to call your name repeatedly to get your attention on more than one occasion, and by the fifth time you felt guilty. He didn't say anything, though. He understood. By then, most of the town knew Joel had left. Word spread like wildfire, especially once the storm passed through. It didn't take a genius to figure out how difficult it would be to survive all alone in those conditions.

Then the rumors started.

You tried to ignore them, but it was hard. When people began drinking and getting loud in the dining hall, it was impossible not to hear.

When you heard a man claim he saw Joel's horse frozen in a river during patrol, you stopped going to the dining hall to eat.

It was dark, it was just a deer, Tommy had told you later after he went out to the river to check, but it still shook you up.

When the sun set on Jackson on the seventh day and Joel still hadn't returned, the fear began to take hold. Your stomach churned, making it impossible to eat the following morning. You had hardly slept, the bags under your eyes dark and heavy. Nick begged you to take the day off but you insisted you needed to stay busy, although it didn't help much. On your lunch break you tried to casually walk by the main gate, the one near the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of him returning, but you had no such luck.

So you went back to work. You kept your hands busy, tried to keep your mind occupied, but it was impossible.

I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you.

You couldn't get those words out of your head. The guilt was weighing you down as you grew worried that was going to be one of the last things he ever said to you.

"Went on a date the other night."

"With who?"

"Cindy, from the kitchen."

Ricky laughed heartily and Andrew smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Shut up, man. We're on watch, we can't be giving ourselves away."

"It's the middle of the goddamn night and we haven't seen any infected in weeks. It's too cold for them, they're all frozen somewhere waiting to thaw in the spring," Ricky said, shouldering his rifle.

"Yeah, but still. You never know. There's more than just infected out there."

Ricky chuckled and shook his head. "Tommy telling you ghost stories again?"

"Raiders ain't ghost stories, asshole," Andrew shot back.

"And raiders never make it this far up the mountains, asshole," Ricky replied, mocking Andrew's tone.

Andrew grumbled under his breath and strolled away from the tower, towards the gate, his eyes scanning the treeline. He couldn't see a damn thing. It was pitch black and deathly quiet.

He turned on his heel and began the slow walk back towards the tower where he could see Ricky unwrapping a granola bar and pulling a paperback book from his back pocket.

Just as he was about to chastise him for letting his guard down, he heard twigs snapping in the woods. He whipped around, bringing his rifle up so he could get a better look with his scope.

"What the hell was that?" Ricky's whisper materialized in his ear.

"Dunno. Something's out there."

Ricky lifted his own rifle and scanned the trees as well, both of them holding their breath, waiting for another noise.

"Maybe-"

Then they heard more twigs snapping and pine trees raking against fabric. Louder this time.

"Fuck," Ricky muttered nervously, his palms growing sweaty inside his gloves.

"There," Andrew said lowly, and Ricky followed his aim. Something was approaching in the dark. Something big.

"I got it."

"No, just wait a second," Andrew said, squinting through the scope. Then his jaw went slack when he realized what it was.

"It's a horse."

"What?"

"It's a fucking horse, bro," Andrew repeated, his voice rising a little.

When it finally emerged from the forest, they saw the rider slumped over, covered in snow, their face buried in the horse's mane.

"Holy shit," Andrew said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and racing towards the ladder. "Radio Tommy!"

"W-what do I say?" Ricky stammered, fumbling with the radio dial.

"Tell him it's Joel!"

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

about a boy - e.m.

Summary: You've never had a boy in your bed. You're not sure what you're meant to do with one.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: none i don't think? mainly fluff and an overthinking reader (they're so me)

divider by firefly-graphics

There's a boy in your bed.

"M&M?"

You turn your head. Eddie holds the bag of candies to you.

"Okay," you say, and take a blue M&M.

Eddie smiles, about fifteen M&Ms in his own mouth. His attention returns to the screen. You have no idea what's playing.

A boy is in your bed, and he's put a movie on, and now his thigh is pressed against yours, lean and warm.

Eddie's socks are green and have tiny yellow stars on them. He's pulled them over his jean cuffs to keep the cold away. Not that it matters when he has a sleeveless Metallica shirt on.

But Eddie doesn't seem to get cold, anyway. You went for ice cream last week even though it had snowed the night before.

Eddie had paid for your ice cream, which isn't something to look too into. Steve's paid for your ice cream before, because Steve's a nice guy. And Eddie's a nice guy too. So maybe nice people pay for ice cream. And that's all.

Your eyes trace the dip of Eddie's belly, the slice of skin that peeks out between his waistband and shirt hem. His exposed arm and neck is sprinkled with freckles and you can see the edge of the demon tattoo on his breastbone.

Your heart races. That's wrong, isn't it? Looking at Eddie like that? Hoping he'll give you more?

You don't know. You've never had a boy in your bed. There's no guidebook.

Eddie laughs at the screen. You relish in his swelled cheeks and glimpse of fanged canines. You love Eddie's smile; bright and all-encompassing. You can't help but be pulled into his orbit every time you're around him.

You ought to give Robin something for introducing the two of you. A fruit basket, or maybe Vickie Summers in a gift box.

Need curls deep in your chest as you watch Eddie sink further into your pillows. You wonder if he can feel your eyes on him. That would be embarrassing. But maybe he'd be flattered that you're looking at him; that you can't help but.

He's touchy. Affectionate. You're really not, but Eddie takes it in stride. He gives you little half-hugs instead of his usual squeeze-the-soul-out-of-you ones. He bumps your shoulder or simply walks beside you, respecting your space.

And funnily enough, through all that, you've begun to wish Eddie would touch you more.

"'M gonna get more popcorn," he says. "Y'want something else?"

You turn your head in a vain attempt to make it seem like you haven't been mooning over him like a lovesick calf.

"No, no, um, thanks. Thanks."

You cringe at your clumsy mouth. Eddie's oblivious, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the hall.

Are you even allowed to want more? You and Eddie are friends. Maybe even Good Friends, especially after the 'murderous monster tries to swallow Hawkins' crisis died down.

But you don't hang out like this. Where Eddie can see all the Polaroid pictures of trees you thought were good reasons to love the earth and of your mom and of the deer you saw once, and your sky blue wallpaper with clouds painted on it. You wonder if he thinks you're childish or silly.

Why does he even spend time with you? Are you the only one free? Was today a non-Hellfire day and that's why Eddie had agreed to come over? Nothing better to do?

You haven't the slightest idea what's happening in the movie. You should pay attention because Eddie might want to talk about it afterwards, and he'll be cross if you don't know what he's talking about.

Except, that doesn't really seem like Eddie. Still. You've never had a boy in your bed. You don't know if they expect you to pay attention to the movies they play.

You chew on a cuticle. Eddie returns in a couple minutes, climbing onto the bed with his knees. He offers you the bowl of popcorn. You shake your head.

"Everything okay, sweet thing?" he asks.

Oh, don't you just melt over that. You feel like the yellow M&M between Eddie's fingers.

"Yeah, f-fine."

You stare at the foot of space between you. Once, you'd dared to lean on the shoulder of a boy you didn't like that much. Your head hadn't stayed long on his shoulder, and afterwards, you wished you'd been struck by lightning.

What if this is like that? What if Eddie sneers at you and shuffles away. God, you can't handle that. You like this boy in your bed so much, it frightens you.

"This guy, the one in the raincoat." Eddie points. "He's one of my favorite actors. I like the way he talks. You ever get that? Liking the way someone talks?"

You look at him. Eddie looks at you. He's trying to pull you out of your head. He thinks something's worrying you. You're so anxious all the time. And Eddie knows that, so he tries to ground you. You withdraw and Eddie will call out to you and ask you questions. He always sounds lovely. Sometimes, you try to gather the courage to ask him something back. But the words remain lodged in your throat.

"Yeah, I get that." Be brave, be brave. "I like the way you talk."

You wait for lightning to strike.

"Really?" Eddie asks, sounding genuinely curious.

"Uh-huh. You have a nice voice."

Nothing. Not even a rumble of thunder.

"Sweet thing, you're gonna give me a big head," Eddie says with a grin.

He's not teasing you. Once upon a time, you might've thought he was, because it seemed like that's all people were capable of. But Eddie's not. He thinks they're nice, the words you say. You want to say more nice words. You want to keep this boy in your bed.

You also want to close this distance. Be a permanent planet in Eddie's orbit. Be brave.

You stare at that tiny foot of space between you again. You're probably being too quiet and still, and Eddie's probably worried you're stuck in your head again.

So before he can coax you out again, (because he cares about you. He cares about you, and you're just going to have to get used to that, alright?) you scoot an inch.

And another inch. And another.

You move at a glacial pace. You don't think Eddie's picked up on your little scheme. How fiendish you are, attempting to cuddle with the boy in your bed. Wicked!

Now, you're so close you can feel Eddie's body heat. His shirt looks soft and worn. You wonder what he smells like.

You move closer. Now, your chest is touching Eddie's side. He looks at you.

His eyes are dark like the blackest parts of space. If you do this and fail, those eyes might just swallow you up.

You listen for thunder, but the skies are clear.

"What's goin' on, pretty?" he murmurs.

"Do you like me?" you blurt, helpless in his pull.

Eddie's brows lift. He blinks, cocks his head.

"'Course I do, sweet thing."

"No, like." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, then open them. "You like me enough for a movie, but do you like me enough to let me put my head on your shoulder?"

"Is that all?" he asks, eyes dancing. There's stars in them. "I like you so much, I want your head on my shoulder forever."

Cinnamon. Eddie smells like cinnamon.

You no longer wish to be struck by lightning.

"Oh," you breathe.

Eddie hums and gently taps your head with one finger.

"That what you've been thinking so hard about?" he asks.

"I've never had a boy in my bed," you say.

"'M honored to be the first."

You nod, jittery with hope. "I'm glad it's you."

And then Eddie eases you into his side. It's perfect. It feels like you're young and don't know any better. It feels like you'll never find anything else like it.

Eddie bows his head. His curls tickle your cheeks and shroud you from the rest of the world.

"And will you kiss me too?" you ask.

"As much as you want, pretty."

You think you can get used to having a boy in your bed.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

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jobean12-blog · 10 months

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Perfect Kind of Trouble

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,566

Summary: You’re new to the neighborhood and you’ve landed a great job bartending at one of the local spots. So far it’s been a good change and things are going smoothly, that is, until Bucky Barnes, the neighborhood’s most eligible bachelor, walks into your bar and sets his sights on you.

Author’s Note: I love the idea of Bucky chasing after a girl who gives him a run for his money! Hope you enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Lots of fluff, flirting, tension, Bucky might be a bit possessive but in a good way and he definitely goes for what he wants and that’s you, some sass in there, Bucky is protective too :) and Nat is the best wingman ever!

“Oh my god, he’s here.”

You stop drying the glass in your hand and go stiff, side eyeing your friend Nat.

“Who Nat?”

She doesn’t answer and instead slides closer to you, leaning her head toward your ear.

“Bucky Barnes.”

“Who?” you ask again, starting to crane your neck to look.

“Don’t!” she snaps then instantly softens her tone. “Just meet me in the back in two minutes and don’t make it look suspicious.”

You give her a tiny nod and go back to your work on the glasses but you can feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. You can feel his stare.

“Ok. What the hell is up with you?” you ask when you shut the door to the back room.

She’s pacing back and forth and it’s making you nervous but when she meets your eyes you relax slightly at the smile on her face.

“Bucky Barnes,” she repeats.

“Yeah? And? I have no idea who that is!”

“Of course you don’t!” she muses. “You wouldn’t know because you only moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Righttt…so, who is he?”

“Just the perfect man.”

“How do you know?”

“Everyone knows.”

You quirk your brow and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, everyone who lives in the neighborhood,” she laughs.

“If he’s so perfect I’m sure he’s married with two point five kids, a dog and a house with a white picket fence.”

“There are no white picket fences in Brooklyn babe,” she says. “And you’d think that but he’s been a bachelor for as long as we know him.”

“Then he’s probably a player and an asshole!” you state.

“I mean sure, all the women, and men, talk about how hot he is and how much they want a shot and boy do they try but as far as I know he doesn’t date.”

“I don’t get it,” you say.

“Me neither!” she agrees. “But he hasn’t been at this bar in forever…”

“Maybe he wanted a change of scenery?” you say with a shrug.

“OR MAYBEEEEEEEE,” she starts, her grin growing. “He heard there’s a new girl in town and he’s here to see you!”

“You’re insane! And he sounds like a player to me.” you huff. “I’m going back to work. Come on, you have to point him out to me. I at least want a look.”

“I won’t need to. You’ll know who he is…”

At her wistful tone you roll your eyes, pushing open the door and walking out with determined steps.

When you hit the bar you discreetly scan the seats. You don’t see anyone that stands out, mostly just the usual crew that shows up on a Saturday night for four-dollar drafts.

A customer calls you over and you head in his direction with a smile. You’re just greeting him and taking his order when you feel that familiar heat at your back, your skin tingling.

Once you’ve got the drink order you turn toward the bar only to lock eyes with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. It momentarily stops you in your tracks and if it weren’t for Nat lightly bumping your shoulder and whispering, “told ya so,” you would stay rooted to the spot to stare.

Instead you blink several times and look away, trying to remember what drink you’re supposed to make.

When you’ve finished making it you deliver it to the customer and try to take another peek down the bar.

“I’m not taking his drink order,” Nat singsongs when she comes to stand beside you. “That’s all you.”

Your mouth falls open and you give her a glare with narrowed eyes. She just smiles brightly and sashays to the other end of the bar to take another order.

With a huff of annoyance you square your shoulders and turn toward Bucky. As you approach him his eyes light up with his smile.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

He returns your greeting and sticks his hand out.

“I’m James Barnes but you can call me Bucky.”

You wipe your hand on the towel at your side and shake his. The shock of electricity at his touch doesn’t seem to be one sided when you feel the slight squeeze from his hand. You introduce yourself, hoping you don’t come off as confused at his direct attention.

“Apparently you’re rather popular around here?”

It comes out as a question and he chuckles.

“Don’t believe anything you’ve heard,” he says with a wink.

“So what about a drink?” you ask, focusing on doing your job.

He orders and before he can say more you rush off to fix his drink. You drop it off with nothing more than a smile and move toward the next person who calls for your help.

As you’re making your next few drinks you notice Nat chatting with Bucky and you can’t help but wonder what they’re saying.

You move back and forth behind the bar, trying to ignore the feel of Bucky’s eyes, but he finally catches your attention and waves you down.

“Another?” you ask.

“Sure doll, thanks.”

While you’re pouring his drink he tries to keep you engaged.

“So Nat told me you’re new to town?”

“Yeah, moved here at the end of last month.”

“Do you like bartending better here in the city?” he asks.

You look down at the bar and scold with a single name.

“Nat.”

Bucky leans in. “Don’t be mad. She’s just trying to help me out.”

You lean in too, elbows on the bar and your head tilted his way.

“You usually need help? From what I’ve heard you can have your pick of anyone.”

At the slight scrunch of your nose he can tell you’re not saying it with a positive tone.

“Not my style. I’m pickier and right now, I need all the help I can get because I think I’m in real danger of striking out.”

His eyes drop to your lips and when they turn up every so slightly he relaxes.

“What is your type?” you ask. “Maybe I can help you out too.”

He scans you slowly and the proceeds to describe you perfectly, the tension building in the inches between you with his every word.

You steel yourself and lift your chin. “Does that usually work?”

“It’s not a line. Meant every word doll face.”

“Do you use these endearments on all the girls? I bet they love it.”

“Nuh uh,” he answers adamantly.

You nod, looking completely unconvinced.

Nat reappears at your side. “You have no idea how much I hate to interrupt this, but I need three long island iced teas at table four or they’re gonna have a hissy fit.”

You straighten yourself. “Oh sorry! Of course. I’m on it.”

You’re busy for the next forty-five minutes but Bucky never leaves his spot and every time you meet his eyes they are heavy with intention as they follow your every move. You can feel them, the heat singing every inch of your skin.

At least two women have approached him at the bar but they both walked away after a few minutes of mundane conversation and lack of interest on his part.

As much as you hate to admit it you can’t help but steal glances at him too, though you try to keep them quick and subtle.

He’s broad shouldered in the tight tee shirt he’s wearing, his biceps on full display under the stretch of the fabric and his dark hair is loose at his shoulders. His full lips are framed by a dark scruff that also covers his cheeks and is peppered with patches of gray.

Your fingers mindlessly caress the glass you’re holding before you catch yourself and look away.

You drop off another glass of whiskey with a smile and he nurses it, shooting you a cocky half smirk when he catches you staring at him. It’s like the intense silence is some sort of foreplay.

Feeling his gaze along your skin, drinking you in and driving you wild, you do your best to keep up with orders.

When things start to slow down and customers go home, you finally make your way back toward Bucky, drawn to him, despite your best efforts.

“Couldn’t avoid me anymore?”

“I wasn’t really…”

The words taper off at the sharp lift of his eyebrow.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“Apology accepted,” he smirks. “So, do you have plans when you get off?”

You don’t answer, instead fiddling with his now empty glass. He lays his hand on the bar, his fingers just an inch form yours.

“Are you really gonna ignore my question doll?” he chuckles.

His fingers slide closer and he brushes his thumb over your knuckles, gauging your reaction. You giggle at his second question and his eyes drop to your mouth as he licks his own lips.

You’re almost lost in the bubble but then the world outside comes roaring back into focus when you hear Nat yell “last call.”

“Work…I still have to work.”

His lips part on an exhale but he let’s you go.

You rush around the bar first, clearing glasses and debris before heading over to one of the tables where three guys sit in conversation.

Distracted, you lean over the table, trying not to interrupt them. But the blonde closest to you runs the back of his hand up your arm.

It makes you cringe.

“Hi there,” he says.

“Hey,” you answer coolly, shifting away from him.

One of the blonde’s friend gives you an apologetic look, scolding Rob before he hands you one of the empty glasses that’s far out of reach. You reach for it and as soon as your fingers wrap around it, Rob grabs your hips and yanks you into his lap.

You drop the glass to the floor and it shatters before you push against his chest, loudly yelling, “what the hell?”

Rob starts to speak but you’re suddenly lifted in the air and whirled around then planted gently on your feet behind Bucky’s broad back.

Bucky now has Rob’s tee shirt fisted in one hand as he gets in his face.

The bar goes silent and the next thing you hear is the low growl of Bucky’s order. “Don’t touch.”

Bucky slowly lowers Rob’s feet to the floor, keeping a careful eye on him. His eyes narrow a split second before Rob bellows, “motherfucker!”

The asshole rears back and punches Bucky clean in the jaw.

You gaps in horrified shock, but Bucky grins, his tongue peeking out to test his lip and you can’t help how your eyes linger there.

“You threw the first punch shithead,” Bucky says before winding back and punching Rob in the gut.

All the guys now rush toward their friend, muttering curses at him as they drag him to his feet and eye Bucky warily.

The owner of the bar, and your boss, Barry, comes over and gets in their faces. “Get out and don’t come back!”

They drag their belligerent friend out as quickly as they can, apologizing to you, or maybe Bucky, the whole way.

“What just happened?” you ask, your voice quiet.

Bucky steps close to you, his knuckles brushing over your cheek, light as a feather.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are filled with emotions. Worry, fury, fear, and tenderness.

“I think so. That was just…crazy.”

Nat wraps her arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “Let’s go get Bucky some ice, ok?”

You glance down at Bucky’s hand, puffy and red.

“Oh no,” you say, gently taking his hand in yours.

He smiles. “It’s fine. Been there, done that.”

You watch him go back and sit at the bar, most of the other customers now cleared out. When you come back out with the ice and ointment your gentle, “you okay?” pulls him from his musings.

“Yeah, no big deal. As long as you’re okay?”

You sit next to him, resting his hand on your thigh and carefully pressing the ice to his knuckles. He stares at his hand on your skin.

“I don’t know if okay is how I would describe how I’m feeling right now…that was…”

Your words trail off when you can’t find a suitable label for the last ten minutes.

“Sexy?” he suggests, deadpan.

Your jaw drops open in offense.

“What? NO!”

He breaks and his lips spread wide in a grin.

You deflate and bump his shoulder, not trying to hide your own smile.

“Seriously though,” you say, shaking your head. “You didn’t have to…why did you do that?”

He looks at you evenly, his voice soft. “Look I’m not some crazy guy who goes around lookin’ to beat people up doll face. But you shouldn’t have to put up with shit like that. I’m sure that wasn’t the first time that piece of shit has pulled a stunt like that, but hopefully next time, he’ll have some decency and sense before laying hands on a woman without an explicit invitation.”

“Well in that case…that’s pretty nice.”

He scoffs with a lopsided smile and his eyes drop to your lips; his hand still pressed to your thigh. His head tilts and he leans in slightly, watching your lips part. He curls his fingers around your thigh but winces at the pull on his knuckles.

You see it and pull back, looking down at his hand.

“Let me get you fixed up.”

Once you have him bandaged up he whispers, “thanks,” still staring at his hand held in yours.

“You ready to go, or do you need to close up first?”

His question is light.

“Go where?”

��Out with me. Ice cream? A walk? Anything you want.”

“It’s the middle of the night. I’m not going anywhere but home.”

“Or we could go to the twenty-four-hour deli on the corner and get ice cream sandwiches then I’ll take you to the roof of my building and we can watch the sunrise.”

Your light touch traces along the calluses on his fingertips.

“Are you usually this friendly to everyone who is new to the neighborhood?” you ask behind a sly smile.

“Not at all doll. Only for you. You’re special.”

Your jaw goes rigid and your eyes narrow. “You can stop whatever game you’re playing.”

You pull back, releasing his hand and starting to put the first aid kit back together.

“What just happened? I’m not playing games,” he says, keeping his voice steady. “But I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”

“It’s fine. I need to go help Nat close up.”

You stand and walk to the door, your head held high. He’s not going to fool you with his sweet words.

The next evening is slow so you spend most of it helping Nat stock the bar and clean. The hours pass by and nothing exciting happens letting your thoughts wander to Bucky. Then, as if on cue, the door opens, and you automatically look over to see who the latest customer is.

Bucky fills the doorway.

Your breath hitches and you can’t look away. He’s more dressed up tonight. A dark button down opened at the collar and dark jeans that are tight across his thick thighs.

You can’t help but think he’s here to meet someone for a date. The jealousy that surges through you is surprising and infuriating. That is, until he walks up to the bar and sits down. Right in front of you.

“Hey, doll.”

“Hey, Bucky.”

“What can I get you?” you start. “Or are you waiting for someone?”

“Yep,” he says, popping the p. “What time’s your break?”

“Oh,” you breath out. “Um…I don’t really get a long one…”

You start to wipe down the bar aimlessly, remaining quiet while you wait. You can feel him watching you, his eyes tracking your every movement.

He calls over Nat and asks, “can I get two of the special for tonight, please?”

He’s speaking to Nat but looking at you, daring you to disagree.

When you stay quiet, the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly, victory lighting up his eyes.

“If you want to take it to-go for later, that’s fine. But I thought it’d be nice to have dinner together and figured ya wouldn’t want to go out with me after I fucked up last night.”

“So dinner while I’m supposed to be working is a better option?” you shoot back.

He cringes, despite the lack of heat in your accusation then sighs defeatedly.

“I’m trying here. I want to get to know you better. I promise my intentions are good.”

You stare, getting lost in his beautiful eyes before you scan the rest of his face. He seems more vulnerable now and you want to believe him.

Nat comes back with two plates of steaming food and sets them down.

You give in and unwrap the silverware, digging into a bite of baked potato.

“Mmm,” you moan around the taste.

He freezes with his own bite halfway to his mouth, and mutters under his breath. “Are you trying to kill me?”

You fall into easy conversation about what he does for work, how you like living in the city and everything in between.

After you explain why you moved, spilling the truth between bites, he replies with, “I’m glad you picked Brooklyn.”

His fingers slide over yours and the touch is full of heat. His eyes follow the movement and his jaw tightens. He threads his fingers through yours, holding your hand across the bar.

When he meets your eyes, his are hooded and dark. “How about that ice cream tonight with a roof top view doll?”

The ‘yes’ is on the tip of your tongue as your body leans over the bar, but then you remember that you want more than just a fling and even though he said his intentions are good you can’t help but wonder why a guy like him is still single. You’re not looking for a fling.

You untangle your fingers from his, pulling back.

“Thank you, Bucky. Really. But…”

He nods, not letting you finish before he reaches into his back pocket and sets down some cash to cover the dinners.

“See ya soon doll.”

The bar is closed on Mondays but Tuesday has you running beers up and down the bar for game night. Bucky’s back. Same time, same seat.

“You need a break doll? Something to eat?” Bucky asks before he takes a sip of beer.

He sets it down as he waits for your answer, studying you intently.

You grab a French fry from his plate and wave it around before bringing it to your lips. He grins wolfishly, catching your wrist in his hand and before you know what’s happening, he’s snagged the fry from between your fingers with his teeth. His tongue snakes out to the lick the salt from your fingertips, then he chews with a self-satisfied smile.

“I’ll let you have the rest,” he says, holding one up to your lips.

You tentatively lean forward, watching him warily in case he tries to pull it away, then chomp down.

“Just let me know when you want more,” he croons.

You continue to work, constantly aware of Bucky and the way he never takes his eyes off you. You check on him regularly, engaging in some deep conversation even with the little time you have.

As your shift nears its end he calls you over.

“Ice cream and rooftop tonight?” he asks, setting money down on the bar to pay for his food and drinks.

“I can’t tonight.”

He smiles. “No worries doll face. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next night comes quickly, your tired feet aching from marching back and forth between the bar and the pool tables since it’s half price games tonight.

It’s getting late, and despite your best efforts, you can’t help but wonder where Bucky is. Maybe the last time you turned him down was the final straw. You feel a deep twinge of disappointment at the idea.

The door opens, and you look over, your eyes filled with hope, but it’s just some random couple.

You’re stomach grumbles and you realize you’ve had dinner with Bucky the last few nights and now that it’s late and he hasn’t shown you haven’t eaten.

Checking that everyone has full glasses you wipe your hands and head for the kitchen, hoping to snag something to eat.

The chef, Suzanne, greets you warmly. You ask her for a bowl of the soup and she hums in agreement, yelling out for Charlie.

A guy you’ve never seen before pops around the corner.

“Hey, I’m Charlie, the sometimes kitchen help,” he explains holding out his hand.

“Nice to meet you Charlie.”

You give him your name and tell him you’re the new bartender.

His face changes instantly, eyes going wide and his brows shooting up to his hairline. He pulls his hand back quickly.

He’s still smiling but he seems guarded all of a sudden.

“You forgot to mention the most important part…Bucky’s girl.”

“What?” you say incredulously. “I’m not Bucky’s girl! We’re just friends. He just stops by for dinner and a drink!”

You know it’s more than that. Charlie nods like he knows it’s more than that.

“Sure, whatever you say. But no offense, I’m gonna take his word for it. I’ve never seen him do anything like this before. It has the whole neighborhood talkin’.”

With that he disappears, only reappearing a few moments later with your soup, then he runs off again.

You inhale the soup, not wanting to leave Nat alone and rush back to the bar to check the drink orders.

Nat slides up next to you. “Those drinks for table six?”

You don’t answer her, instead filling her in on what happened in the kitchen.

“Charlie said I’m ‘Bucky’s girl.’ I’m not his girl. What does that even mean?”

“Aw that’s sweet! He’s never said anything like that before and I would know. Been living here my whole life.”

“No it’s not!”

“I think it’s sorta romantic,” she says wistfully. “He’s all in, claiming you far and wide when you haven’t even realized what’s right in front of your face!”

She punctuates the last words of her sentence as she stares you down.

“What’s right in front of my face?” you ask, unwilling to concede that it might be the tiniest bit sweet…in a cave man sort of way.

“He’s here,” Nat whispers, but it’s more of squeal.

You turn toward the door, your whole face lighting up even though you’re still mad at the claim he made. The door is closed, Bucky no where in sight.

Nat’s finger is suddenly in your face. “That! You want to see him. You like him coming here to see you too. Shit, when was the last time someone made this much of an effort for a date!”

She throws her hands up! “Just go out with the man!”

“You mean have sex with him?” you bite out, not forgetting about her earlier warnings.

“Either or, maybe both! What could it hurt?”

“Me!” you say defensively.

Nat’s expression softens. “I think maybe I gave you the wrong idea about him…” she fumbles. “What I really mean is I think maybe we all had the wrong idea about him.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs with a heavy sigh. “Bucky is man. A hot as fuck man,” she teases. “And he does have a reputation…but only because everyone wishes they could get a piece of him. I really don’t remember the last girl he went out with. So either he’s really quiet about it, but if you haven’t noticed in this neighborhood everyone is up everyone else’s ass, or he hasn’t really dated.”

Nat eyes you carefully, curiously.

“Oh shit,” you mumble, laying your face in your hands. “I do want to go out with him, but I’m scared…have you seen him?”

Nat grins. “Oh yes. I have and…”

“He’s gorgeous. Like drop dead gorgeous,” you finish for her.

“Exactly,” she agrees happily, a dreamy look on her face.

You swat at her shoulder, getting her attention and gesturing to yourself.

“What? You look amazing!” she says. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen you at work before.”

“You don’t think is just a thing because I’m the new girl in the neighborhood?”

“Do people do things like that where you’re from?” she asks. “And no!” she finishes, shaking her head.

Just as her words sink in your heart sinks with them.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I blew it, he’s not here tonight.”

“Yes he is.”

The door opens and when you look over, it’s him.

Finally!

The air charges across the space between you and you know something has changed and when his eyes meet yours it’s almost as if he knows it too. He nods toward the door, silently asking if you’re ready for that date.

“Hey Nat, you think if I ask Barry to let me off early…”

“I swear if he says no I’ll kick him in the balls myself,” Nat screeches.

You rush back to the office and find Barry sitting behind his desk. Your question rushes out and he holds up a hand to stop you before you even finish.

“Go,” is all he says, but the smile he gives you reaches his eyes.

You cross the room to Bucky, his eyes wandering over you with possessive heat and unguarded want.

When you’re standing right in front of him, your toes touching, he asks, “you ready?”

Your lips lift ever so slightly and when his large hand cups your cheek your eyelashes flutter closed. His motions are slow, teasingly so, but he’s giving you time to stop him. He bends down, letting his intentions be quite clear.

He kisses the corner of your mouth then brushes his lips over yours, so lightly, you can feel his breath. You sigh into him and his hands slide over your curves and down to your waist, his grip tightening.

Nat let’s out a cheer, effectively interrupting the moment but you can’t help but smile at her excitement.

Bucky doesn’t let go of you, his hand sliding into yours as he pulls you out the door and onto the street.

“Hey,” he says soothingly.

“Hi,” you say, tucking your chin.

His fingers press under and he lifts your eyes. “You good?”

He waits patiently for you to formulate a reply.

“I just…I’m not sure…what you expect.”

“Anything, doll. I want to know you, spend time with you.”

Dropping his voice lower and bringing his lips to the shell of your ear, he whispers, “kiss you again…for real this time.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees, his voice heavy with intention as he takes you in his arms again and drags you into his chest.

Your lips meet, tender and soft at first but as your fingers dance up his arms and grip his biceps, he growls and takes it deeper.

You moan into his mouth, working your hands higher into the hair that brushes his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels you give his hair a little tug.

He pulls back and you chase him for one last kiss which he happily obliges in.

“I promised you ice cream and a roof top sunrise,” he murmurs. “And I keep my promises doll.”

@book-dragon-13 @sebstanwhore @late-to-the-party-81 @goldylions @laineyreads @randomfandompenguin @lookiamtrying @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @hallecarey1 @blackwidownat2814 @flordeamatista @buckysdollforlife

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #beefy!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #beefy!bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 2 months

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Happy House || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader

Summary: This is a happy house, we’re happy here, right?

Warnings: infidelity, toxic Coryo, mild violence, if there’s anything else lmk!

Wc: 505

Divider by @firefly-graphics

In the quiet morning light that filtered through the windows of the grand dining hall, your family sat at the polished mahogany table, seemingly the picture of domestic bliss.

Coriolanus, his chiseled features etched with a façade of contentment, sat at the head of the table, his newspaper spread before him. Balanced on his lap, was your three year old daughter, her tiny hands occupied with a toy.

You sat opposite him, watching the scene with a practiced smile, your eyes betraying none of the turmoil that churned within you. You sipped at your coffee slowly, your eyes moving to your eldest as he shovels spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth, oblivious to the tension that hung in the air.

As if on cue, the nanny entered the room, cradling the youngest member of the Snow family in her arms. Your heart twisted at the sight of the woman, the nanny’s eyes darting to Coriolanus, who met her gaze with a knowing look. You forced herself to smile as you took the baby girl into your arms, your fingers tracing the delicate features you had come to love despite the circumstances of your birth.

“Look who’s awake,” You softly say to your daughter with a bright expression as she smiles up at you. But as you look up, you catch Coriolanus beckon the young woman over to him. It was the subtle exchanges between Coriolanus and the nanny that made your blood run cold.

A glance here, a lingering touch there—each movement a betrayal that cut deeper than any knife. You swallowed the bile rising in your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the facade you presented to the world.

Later that day, as your family made a public appearance, you plastered on your most convincing smile, your hand resting lightly on Coriolanus’s arm as you both posed for the cameras. Lucky Flickerman’s question about another baby drew a forced chuckle from your lips, “Maybe not for a while,” You responded, feeling the venomous look Coriolanus shot you from your peripheral.

It wasn’t until you were alone in the privacy of you solar that the facade finally crumbled. Coriolanus’s anger boiled over at your comment, his words cutting like shards of glass. Your own fury matched his, your heart pounding in your chest as you dared to confront him about his infidelity.

“What do you mean ‘maybe not for a while’?” Coriolanus’s voice sliced through the tense silence, his anger simmering just beneath the surface .

Your bristled at his tone, your own frustration bubbling over. “What do you think I mean, Coriolanus? We already have three children to care for, and I’m not eager to bring another into this mess. I’m not a baby machine for heaven’s sake.”

Coriolanus’s jaw clenched, his gaze darkening. “Mess? Is that what you think of our family?” You shot back, “It’s what you’ve made it,” your voice tinged with bitterness. “You think I don’t know about your affairs? About the way you’ve been sneaking around with my servants behind my back?”

Coriolanus’s eyes flashed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “How dare you accuse me of such things? You know nothing!” “I know enough,” You retorted, your own anger rising. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you touch her when you think no one is watching.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus scoffed, but there was a hint of unease in his voice. “Is it, Coriolanus?” Your voice was sharp as you enunciated his full name, your eyes narrowing as you met his gaze head-on. “You can deny it all you want, but I’m not blind, I’m not stupid. I see what’s happening, and I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Coriolanus’s face twisted with rage, his hands trembling with suppressed fury. “How dare you speak to me like that? I am your husband, and you will show me the respect I deserve!”

“Respect?” You laughed bitterly, your heart pounding in your chest. “You lost any right to my respect the moment you betrayed our marriage vows-“ Your words were cut off when Coriolanus grabs your forearm, harshly pulling you close to him as you felt his breath fanning your features, your breath catching in your throat as you struggled to comprehend the betrayal.

Before you could react, the doors to the solar swung open, revealing your children and the nanny, frozen in the threshold. Your heart sank as you watched Coriolanus hastily release his tight grip on you, plastering on a false smile as he turned to his son with outstretched arms.

“My boy,” he said, his voice strained. “Shall we go play outside?” With a final glance in your direction, Coriolanus left the room, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of your reality. As the nanny awkwardly averted her gaze, you gathered your daughters close, your voice trembling with suppressed rage.

“Next time,” you said to the nanny, not bothering to look at her, your voice tinged with bitterness, “you should knock before entering a closed room. Understood?”

The nanny nodded mutely, her eyes downcast as you led your children away from the shattered remnants of your once-happy home. But deep within you, you knew that the facade they presented to the world could only hold for so long before the truth tore your family apart at the seams.

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Text

The Dad Diaries: Checkup

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Jamie is a little fussy after his doctor appointment and Bucky continues to admire your strength. Word Count: Over 1.8k Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, tired parent, shots / needles referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries! Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was in the kitchen rinsing off the dishes from dinner when he heard a wailing cry break through the peaceful evening. He dried his hands and told himself not to rush toward the nursery as all other sounds faded into the background, but his feet moved quickly anyway. His body seemed to move on instinct when it came to you and your son since the two of you were his world. And he would do whatever he could to keep you safe and happy.

Another cry rang out as Bucky got to the hall. Somehow, and it must have either been some form of magic or your motherly instinct to comfort your baby, you beat him to the nursery. “It’s okay, Jamie. Mama's here,” you soothed as you carefully picked your son up and cradled him against your chest. “Shh,” you whispered in his ear, your eyes closing as the cries began to get a little softer.

It broke the former sergeant’s heart a bit each time he heard his son cry. He knew you felt the same way. You were empathetic and protective before you had Jamie, but his cries increased your emotions.

A smile touched Bucky's lips as he observed the two of you, his heart warm and full. The longer you held Jamie, the quieter he became. He curled against you like all he needed was the warmth of your loving embrace. In return, you held him like you had the whole world in your hands.

Love would always show up in the ordinary moments because you made them extraordinary.

As touching as the sight was, Bucky sensed how tired you were. He saw it in the slightly strained smile you gave him when you opened your eyes and the way your body sagged as you swayed back and forth to soothe Jaime. You hadn't gotten nearly enough rest today and completely missed your nap after nursing earlier. That wouldn’t do.

Not on his watch.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly enough to not spook Jamie. “Need me to take him?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got him,” you replied as your son gripped your shirt with his tiny hand, a silent message to his dad to let him snuggle with his mom a little bit longer. “He’s just a little fussy.”

Bucky nodded as he walked into the room. The doctor warned them to expect some fussiness over the next couple of days thanks to his appointment. “But he isn’t in any pain?” He asked, hurt flooding his blue eyes just from imagining it.

Your gaze softened as you shook your head. “Not that I can tell,” you said. Both of you were observant when it came to Jamie. You picked up on cues and looked for anything out of the ordinary. “I think he’s okay.”

That helped Bucky breathe a bit easier. “And you’re sure I can't take him so you can get some rest?” He asked, not wanting to push, but also a second away from telling you to sit in the rocking chair. You headed toward it and carefully took a seat before he could open his mouth again, as if you sensed what he was about to say.

“I’ll take a nap in a few minutes,” you promised, giving him another small smile. “I just want to hold him a little bit longer.”

Bucky conceded as he put a blue blanket over both of you. Soft and covered in stars, it would keep you both warm. “I still can't believe how big he’s getting,” he said, brushing a finger along his son's soft cheek.

How was it a month already since he blessed your lives?

“Big and strong,” you said, glancing down with a fond smile before looking up again. “Just like his daddy.”

Bucky’s cheeks tinged from the compliment. “He's strong because of his mommy. And beautiful.”

You fought a yawn, but he saw the happiness in your eyes at his words. “He gets that from both of us.”

Jamie scrunched his face before he nuzzled his head against you with a tiny sound, making the brunette chuckle. “Okay, okay. Enjoy your snuggles with your Mama,” he whispered as he bent down and kissed the top of his son’s soft head. He stilled for a moment as he let his soothing scent wash over him. “I’ll be in my office.”

“Okay. I’ll call for you when I’m done,” you said, shutting your eyes when he kissed the top of your head, too.

He dimmed the lights once he crossed the room, but stopped to look back and observe the tender moment between you two a bit longer. It was picture perfect and had his heart swelling again before he went to his office. His journal awaited him at his desk and he got to work with his latest entry.

Hey, Nugget, You’re currently cuddled up with your mom in the nursery and I don’t blame you for soaking up the snuggles. It was a big day for you! Your one month checkup. I still can’t believe it’s been a month since you came into our lives. It seems like yesterday.

Is it too early to say I want time to slow down?

I'm happy to report that you are on track. Your height and weight are on the charts where they should be. You're hitting the usual milestones, which came as no surprise to me. You are my son after all.

A joke. I'm a little more humble than that. I think you're on track because of your Mama, but she’ll argue and say it’s because of both of us. Either way, the pediatrician didn’t look at all surprised that you were doing well. The receptionist and nurses also fawned over how adorable you are.

Again, you got that from your Mama, even if she says again that you got it from both of us.

Bucky stole a glance at the monitor where you continued to rock Jamie in the chair. He had to smile at the sight. You weren’t quite asleep, but were dangerously close. He’d have to finish up his entry quickly so he could get you to bed.

I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure about the pediatrician at first. I think he directed most of your questions to your mom since I kept glaring at him. I couldn’t help myself. We did a lot of research to make sure you’d get the best care possible. Even though he’s highly recommended and probably one of the nicest men I’ve ever met in my life, you’re my son and it’s hard to hand you over to someone else to care for you.

Except for your Mama. She is always the exception to the rule.

Bucky let out a breath, gripping the pen a bit tighter.

I knew going into the appointment today that you would have to get a couple of shots. Needles don’t exactly scare me and I knew it was for your own good, but I never hated them until today. I must’ve given the nurse a dirty look, too, because she avoided looking at me and asked your mom to hold you still so she could administer the shots. In fact, I know I glared because your mom elbowed my side and whispered, “Stop that. They’re helping our son.”

You’ll learn later in life that your mom is always right.

I still did my best to stay calm and distract you by making a funny face. I didn't want you to sense that I was worried, but I was because I knew you’d be in pain. And even though the pain would only last for a second, I knew I was powerless to stop it.

At that moment, I was helpless.

He swallowed as he recalled the piercing scream Jamie let out when the needle pricked his thigh. It twisted his gut so painfully that he feared he’d get sick and he had to refrain from taking him away from the nurse. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to the shots or cries with any of the upcoming appointments.

It should come as no surprise that your mom continued to be a pillar of calm and strength as the nurse gave you two shots and applied your band aids. Whereas I was like a wave crashing against the shores in my mind, she was the rock that braved the storm and didn’t budge. She told you how big and strong you were, like me, when she picked you up and your cries eventually stopped as she held you against her chest.

I wonder if it was her voice that calmed you down. It could’ve been her smell. She does smell good. Maybe her touch. Her heartbeat. Probably everything.

We both love her so much.

Bucky wondered if the shots bothered you more than let on. Maybe that was why you were so keen to hold him even though you needed sleep. Maybe you needed the comfort as much as your son did.

As I watched her hold you, it took me a moment to breathe again so I could try and provide some sort of comfort to you. As your father, I want to protect you from the pain of the world. But pain is the body’s warning system to protect us from harm and sometimes inevitable. Today reminded me that I won’t always be able to protect you from it and that I can’t let my negative emotions or fear get in the way of helping you after. It’s another reason why I admire your mother.

She validated your pain, but stayed strong for you because you needed that. It’s something that I’m still learning. It doesn’t make me any less of a good dad because of that. There’s no manual for dealing with these emotions. We just have to figure out how to weather the storm.

Because we’re strong apart, but even stronger together.

“Bucky?” You asked, your voice gently ringing out through the monitor. “It’s your turn.”

He smiled before jotting one more thing down.

And if you’re ever hurting or just need a helping hand, I’ll be there.

Until next time, I love you.

Always,

Dad

Bucky didn’t hesitate to go to the nursery once he finished up to take his son from your arms, a look of understanding passing between the two of you. Parenting was an emotional rollercoaster full of ups and downs and twists and turns. Being a father was one of the hardest jobs he’d ever had, but it was also the most rewarding. He still didn’t really know what he was doing, but he was trying and didn’t have to go through it alone.

And as Jamie leaned into him with you resting close by, that was the best reward he could ask for today.

Bucky is doing a wonderful job. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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buckets-and-trees · 6 months

Note

Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏

(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)

well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.

I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!

Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k

Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.

Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.

Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.

You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.

“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.

“Nearly perfect,” he adds.

Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”

This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.

“You.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”

“Only one misstep tonight.”

Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.

“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”

Your jaw drops.

“Empty your bag.”

Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.

“I know what’s in there.”

You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.

But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.

Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.

You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”

“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”

“No,” you breathe.

“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it’s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”

Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”

His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”

He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.

“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”

His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.

You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.

“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”

You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.

Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.

Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.

Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.

You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.

All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.

When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.

He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”

Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

You do.

He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.

“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”

He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.

The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.

He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.

“Show me,” he says.

Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”

You do.

Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.

He’s big.

You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.

Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.

“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.

Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.

“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.

You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.

“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”

Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”

You whimper, and the tears spill over.

His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.

Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.

You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.

He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.

Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.

He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”

You huff and pant.

He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”

“Andy,” you whine.

“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.

He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.

“Admit you want me to fuck you.”

Another slap.

Another.

“Yes,” you finally concede.

“To breed you.”

You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”

The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.

You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.

Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.

“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”

An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.

“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.

You see stars, and you cry out for him.

Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.

He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.

Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.

You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.

After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.

“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”

No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.

“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”

“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”

He brushes the tears off your cheek.

“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”

You hesitate.

“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”

“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.

“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.

It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?

read: -> THE MORNING AFTER

#andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #soft dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #tw: dubcon #aspen wrote something #navy and roo's sleepover #i'm your man collection

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biteofcherry · 4 months

Text

Entwined

Leshy!Steve Rogers x female reader; Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: You enter the woods hoping to gain the ancient being's mercy and help. However, you hadn't expected how truly powerful he is, or what price he will ask of you.

*Leshy is a deity of the forests in Slavic mythology. He rules over the forest and hunting.

warnings: sort of monsterfucking (though Leshy isn't exactly a monster, more of an eldritch entity); consensual, with a slight dash of dub-con; tiny bit of manipulation; smut;

Author's Note: This is a story written for Aspen's (@buckets-and-trees) Enchanted Birthday Festival. Early happy birthday, love! ❤️ I've been toying with the idea of Leshy!Steve for a bit and Aspen's challenge was the perfect opportunity to work on it. Especially since she loves forests, plants and all things wild nature 💚 Also a special shout out to @vonalyn who listened to me ramble about the hotness of Leshy!Steve when the idea first came to mind!

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

You looked around, seeking for a path, or entrance through which you might escape, if you chose to. There was none. Within seconds you found yourself trapped in the depths of the ancient forest, with a being whose mercy you came to beg for.

When about an hour ago you stepped into the woods, you were bracing yourself for the sense of being watched, perhaps hunted. You haven’t considered how closely in contact with the powers of nature you’d come.

Your steps never faltered as the soft carpet of juicy grass beneath your feet seemed to grow more resilient the deeper into the woods you went; green straws springing back from being crushed under your shoe. The further you went, however, the dewy emerald grew sparse, shrinking into rich soil scattered with shards of bark, little leaves and pillows of moss.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting glowy direction into the sacred altar hidden in the belly of the wilderness. It felt so peaceful, so relaxing, that you’d gladly sink into the shades of green and speckles of gold.

If not for the pounding of your worried heart, which knew that you were searching for more than reprieve.

Had you known what awaited, you’d listen to your heart’s anxious patter and run away.

But you were determined. Though your grandma would probably call it simple stubbornness.

You didn’t enter the woods to forage, nor to roam it to fill your soul with happiness. No, your feet carried you forward to face the greatest of dangers and beg for mercy.

Not only for yourself, but for the village and people who lived in fear, but still refused to abide by the ancient laws. Proud and focused on ways to increase wealth, they forgot there’s more in the world than just gold and war.

Powers mightier than any army. Beings greater and more dangerous than any king.

When wolves ripped to shreds one of the lumberjacks, everyone thought it to be a tragic accident. When two other people disappeared in the woods, never returning, others came up with ideas of them running away. Then a mother was seen screaming as wolves dragged her body into the forest. The child that followed, crying after its mum, disappeared. A day later a small fawn started prancing around the garden by the empty now household.

Still, people refused to bow to the entity that could be behind all of this, or at least held the power to end this madness. Or so you hoped.

Having packed a big wicker basket of offerings - jars of golden honey, cheese wrapped in paper, strings of colorful beads and pearls, folded silk, dried exotic fruit you got from the market - you carried it deep into the woods, to place them on the long forgotten altar where your ancestors paid their respects to the guardian of the forest and nature.

Leshy.

You expected to find the ancient, stone altar, with a deformed statue overgrown with moss. The plan was to lay your offerings there, spend some time bowing down and praying for mercy, then returning to the clueless village.

For a few beats it went like that. The birds still chirped, leaves rustled softly in the wind, your offerings laid motionless on the slab of stone.

Then, suddenly, ivy vines weaved up, covering the stone and your produce in a thick cocoon. The earth rumbled and melted, swallowing the altar whole.

Startled, you took a shaky step back and lost your balance, falling onto your butt. A split of a second when your gaze looked up at the darkening sky and when you returned it forward, he was already standing in front of you.

Whenever you thought of Leshy, no particular image came to mind. You always thought the creature to be an entity beyond human imagination.

He was that, but also… not.

He reminded a human man, but only at first glance.

Much taller, with shoulders broader than the blacksmith’s (whom you always thought to be the biggest man alive). His complexion was fair, but the veins in his arms were jewel green. His hair and beard seemed cast from various shades of gold, intertwined with russet bronze and chestnut reddish. Delicate, tiny vines crawled up his cheeks and along his forehead; like intricate tattoos.

From the thick mane of his silky looking hair sprouted majestic antlers. Thick and sturdy, their dark color with filaments of gold shining through. His eyes, when you met them, were a striking shade of blue-green. Rare and iridescent, like ponds bathed in the light of dawn.

“It’s been a while since a human has come to me.”

The entity’s voice was deep and low, both dangerous and soft, like a purr of a bear or a jungle cat.

“Are you Leshy?” You swallowed nervously.

“I’ve been called that, yes.” When he grinned, amused, the filigree vines on his body glowed luminescent.

“And you are?” He asked, courtly.

When you whispered your name, he leaned forward, bending slightly and outstretching his hand for you to take. As you slipped your shaky fingers into his palm, you felt the pulsing warmth seep through you. It reminded you of the sun-heated earth beneath bare feet.

As he helped you stand up, your gaze drifted up his body. You noticed that while most of his skin looked like any human’s flesh, a stripe along his left calf and thigh seemed textured like bark. A combination of moss and vines formed a fitting coverage around his narrow hips; yet you still caught the sight of a green vein slithering down his chiseled abdomen.

More gold-glowing, floral-like tattoos appeared ingrained into the skin along his ribs. Skin on top of his right shoulder looked to be made of bark, just like on his leg.

As much as he looked unworldly, you also found him majestic.

Beautiful, as nature itself.

“Those who know me, call me Steve.” He said, holding your hand in his and not letting you step away. “It's a shortened and funnily deformed version of Svyatobor.”

Lost in his eerie blue eyes, it took you a longer moment to realize what his name meant.

Breath hitched in your chest, your pupils widened as you stared up at him. All this time you believed Leshy is a creature brought to life and given a purpose by a god. That’s what all the legends suggested. It didn’t occur to you, it's a deity itself.

A god of the forest.

After a moment of complete stupor, shock gave way to a flash of fear. You bowed your head and started to fall onto your knees, to pay proper respect. However, his hand still holding yours pulled you up.

“None of that is necessary.” He assured you.

Though when you tipped your head up to look at him, Leshy’s gaze slid down your body in a slow, assessing study.

“At least not in that sense,” he murmured, licking his lips.

His eyes flicked back to yours. The stark blue pulsing with more green specks than before; as if his body came to life the same way nature sprung back as the snow melted away.

You felt a rush of heat through your veins at the suggestive implication of his words.

“What have you come here for, little fern?”

“To beg for mercy for my village.” Once again, you lowered your gaze. “People have been disappearing and being hurt. Swallowed by the forest or its creatures. I plead for no more blood to be spilled.”

Steve’s face betrayed no sign of irritation. For a split of a second you thought you saw a flash of sunlit amusement in his irises, but no mockery followed. He studied you for a long moment, not saying a word.

When he moved, it was slow and nonthreatening. You still startled, though perhaps it was at the loss of contact as his hand gently released your fingers.

He walked over to where the ground swallowed the altar with your offerings. It was only then that you realized a thick carpet of clovers had filled the space where the table had been. Delicate leaves tilted toward Steve’s legs, brushing against him with the softest of rustles, as if they were purring for him.

“You brought me honey, which you poured out of the goodness of your heart. But don’t you know that our wild bees’ honey is sweeter?” Steve asked, walking barefoot through the small field of clovers back toward you.

He stepped even closer this time and you felt the unique warmth radiating from him. A little stifling, like the humidity of the forest soaked in rain that was evaporating in the high summer sun.

It was making you dizzy in a very pleasant way.

“You gave me expensive fabrics, but nothing feels as soft and luxurious as petals of early spring’s flowers.” He circled you, like an animal may circle its prey. “None of your colorful beads shine as bright as drops of dew in the moonlight.”

“I-” What were you supposed to say? You didn’t have much and what you gave away was a big sacrifice in terms of your day to day survival.

You also didn’t think Leshy would be pleased, if you brought seasoned meat. He was, after all, a protector of wild animals. That sort of disrespect may have killed you on the spot.

Suddenly, you felt his hand brush along your waist. A light, fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt down your spine.

“Moreover, you try to barter a single basket for dozens of lives.” Steve stopped in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head in shame, feeling the burning tears gather beneath your eyelids.

He was right and you didn’t think of that when you were packing your basket. It made you feel helpless, that you had nothing else to offer.

“Don’t be.” Steve tilted your chin up with the pads of his fingertips. His gaze was soft, glinting sincerity.

“You still did more than any other human has for decades. I’m just pointing out that a life can be compared in cost to another life, nothing else. No riches equal a heartbeat.”

You understood the value, agreed with it completely. But it made the situation look unsolvable. The fate of your village was doomed to go through horrors, since there was no other way to barter for it.

Then you registered the warmth of Steve’s fingers still holding your chin. His thumb angled to rub along your lower lip. You were in the hands of a powerful deity. Steve may have appeared nonthreatening, but he was still an ancient entity demanding a sacrifice.

No riches equal a heartbeat. You had a heartbeat. A rapidly fluttering one, at the moment; bouncing against the bars of your ribcage in fear of being ripped from it.

“You mean-” You swallowed a bile rising in your throat. “My life for theirs?”

You wanted to help your village, to help people in general. That need to care and nurture have always been so deeply ingrained in you. But you wanted to live! You wanted to experience feelings and wonders, joys and losses. You weren’t ready to meet the end so soon, so unexpectedly. The two needs - to help and to survive - were clashing in violence.

Steve’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. Since he was the only comfort available at the moment, you leaned into his touch. A soothing shush spilled from his lips as he caught your panicked gaze and locked it with his.

“I’m not thirsty for blood, little fern.” He assured you. “I long for company.”

Somehow, looking into his eyes and sinking into the warmth his closeness provided, you felt the fear subsiding. Slowly, still leaving instinctive distrust, but it eased away.

“You want a friend?” You blinked, a little confused.

Of course you understood what he meant the moment he said it, but a voice of reason wouldn’t accept the fact this beautiful, powerful being wanted to bed you. Out of all the things a deity may demand, fucking an unimpressive mortal like you shouldn’t be on the list.

Steve laughed at your question, genuinely amused.

Instantly, choirs of birds joined his mirth in a tinkling melody that carried through the forest.

“No.” Steve shook his head; smile-caused crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes and the filigree vines along his skin curled.

“I’ve got friends. You would meet them, if you stayed.” It surprised you, teasing your curiosity about what other beings roamed these forests.

Your thoughts didn’t stay focused on the matter for long. Not when Steve’s hand slid down the column of your neck, his other arm weaving around your waist and pulling you close to his body.

Very close. Even through the fabrics of your skirts and corset you felt the hard planes of his muscles against the softness of your body. Your hands landed on his chest, at first in an attempt to brace yourself to perhaps fight him off, but any force to push away dissipated. Instead, your fingertips were tingling.

Steve’s breath teased your skin as he leaned down, trailing his lips along your jaw.

“I want intimacy. Passion. And devotion.” He murmured, gripping the back of your neck as his other hand dipped lower to squeeze the flesh of your bottom.

Abruptly, your whole body tensed and you gasped when something coiled around your ankles. Thin and tickling, possibly an ivy vine. It curled along your legs, reaching upwards. Teasing your skin with a brush of leaves and forcing your legs slightly apart.

Steve’s lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I wish to splay you on the moss and have it soak up your sweet juices as I play with your pretty cunt.”

You jerked in his embrace, but your core ignited. Heat pooled low in your abdomen, spreading down in a quick wave and filling your folds.

“I want to stretch you on my cock and have you call me your god not out of fear, but the pleasure I give you.” The vines that weaved around your legs didn’t reach far up your thighs, but if they had, your wetness would coat the delicate leaves.

“I want to fill you, until you bloom flowers and berries.”

Breathing became hard as the images filled your head; though you doubted it was a trick of his, more your own imagination eagerly supplying possibilities Steve words enticed.

When Steve unexpectedly released you and took a step back, you shivered as if you were dropped into a cold cave. Deprived of light and warmth.

He appeared more inhuman as he stretched to his full height and loomed over you.

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

Shaken from the daze Steve’s proximity and dirty words have caused, you faced the deal he was proposing with a clearer mind.

You’d be bound to the forest as long as Steve wanted to keep you, having to abandon your human life and plans. But you would be alive. And so would the villagers, some of whom were your friends.

You chanced one more look at the wall of branches and vines, briefly wondering if he’d let you go had you refused. Probably. But it was uncertain what awaited your village, or any other, if you backed out.

Taking a deep breath, you turned back to Steve. You gripped the fabric of your skirt to cover the nervous shaking of your fingers.

“Yes,” the word rolled out on your tongue like a faint whisper, but he heard it.

His eyes shimmered with tempting joy, like the reflection of sunlight on the rippling sheet of a lake. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you, his hands on your hips.

“I’ll be good to you, my little fern.” Tip of his nose nudged along yours, warm breath softening your lips into compliance.

When he kissed you, it felt as if berries burst on your tongue, filling your mouth with sweet flavor.

Your hands traveled up his arms, clutching his shoulders. The one covered in bark provided a new, unique sensation. It grazed your fingertips, but also felt grounding. He didn’t have to pull you closer, your body turned pliant on its own volition.

Steve swallowed your gasp, gripping your hips tighter, as thick vines of ivy rapidly wound around you. They covered you whole, like they had that stone altar before. It felt scary and suffocating, but as soon as the cocoon of greenery swallowed your forms fully it burst apart; leaves scattered around in a fountain.

You broke the kiss, tipping your head away and looking around. You were no longer in the same spot. You were in no recognizable place, to be exact.

If you could find a name for it, the heart of the forest would be it.

Light green grass spread around in a thick carpet, with patterns of bluebells and lilies of the valley. Graceful, tall birches circled the place, their silvery leaves catching chunks of sun rays. By a spot where wild rose bushes weaved an intricate arch stood a big bed. Easily high at hip height, woven tightly of green moss and periwinkles.

Steve didn’t give you much time to admire. With a firm push of his hand he tilted your head back towards him. Kept cupping your cheek as he kissed you again, more urgently this time. Demanding.

He released you to tug on your clothes, doing a swift job with layers of your skirts, but grumbling a bit when trying to untie your corset.

“Won’t need that anymore here, little fern,” he purred as your breasts spilled out.

Then he was picking you up, big hands gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you easily. He sat on the bed, slowly easing you down until you were standing between his spread legs.

It was only then that you realized the coverage around his hips was gone, leaving him exposed in all his glory.

You couldn’t help peeking down. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you stared at the impressive size of him. Your mouth filled with the aftertaste of berries and your own saliva as his cock twitched upwards.

Steve’s hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves and lines with utmost fascination. He didn’t hesitate leaning forward to capture a stiff nipple into his mouth, sucking eagerly. His antlers gave you a scare as they brushed so close to your skin, but not once did his movement cause you pain.

Feeling a little bolder, you slipped one of your hands between the roots of his antlers and into his hair. They felt soft and silky. Your other hand gripped the top of his shoulder; the one where bark printed into your palm in a sensation you were finding more and more pleasant.

As Steve pulled back slightly, you slipped your fingers from his hair and across his face, mapping out contours and scratching through his beard. He gripped one of your legs under your knee and pulled it up, placing your foot on the bed and spreading you obscenely. His eyes darkened, something wolfish glinting in them as his gaze settled on your puffed, wet folds.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he demanded in a raspy voice.

The hand on your calf kept caressing and squeezing your flesh, while his other fisted his cock as your fingers dipped between your thighs.

None of your lovers ever expressed desire to see you pleasure yourself, but Steve’s gaze was so heated you didn’t feel shy. Quite the opposite, somehow it felt so easy and natural; even more arousing as Steve licked his lips in unmasked hunger.

“Let me taste you. I bet you’re sweeter and richer than any honey.”

You moaned, pushing two fingers inside and pumping them in and out a few times. When you brought your glistening digits to his lips, Steve licked them in a broad stroke of his tongue then took them into his mouth. His greedy sucking had your clit pulsing wildly.

“Delicious,” he hummed in delight, “and so ready for me, aren’t you?”

Swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you over his lap. Your gasp at the sudden movement and the feeling of his cock against your inner thigh combined with Steve’s loud groan of pleasure, when you gripped his antlers to steady yourself.

“That’s it. Keep touching them.” He urged you on as he slid you down his shaft. “It’s as if you were gripping my cock.”

“Nghh!” You keened, tightening your desperate hold on the antlers as your walls stretched around Steve’s girth.

“Too big!” You whined, yet your hips followed the command of Steve’s hands as he guided you down.

“Shh, my little fern. Take it. I know you can.” He was mercilessly forcing you down, moaning as your tight, hot walls enveloped him. “All your sweet holes will learn to take all of me.”

By the time he was buried to the root, you were shaking in pleasure. Your cheek was pressed to Steve’s, your breath coming out in jagged, hot puffs. Where your breasts were squished into the hard planes of Steve’s chest, it felt as if the filigree vines pulsing beneath his skin moved to tease your nipples. Steve’s hands were splayed on your hips, holding you in place as he savored the feel of your pussy around him.

After a moment, he began rocking up into you and a few heartbeats later started bouncing you up and down his length. Soon your whimpers stretched into moans. Despite feeling boneless in his powerful hold, you also felt a surge of need to take from him as much as he was taking from your pliant body.

You held Steve’s gaze as you straightened your back and started riding him; your fingers squeezing his antlers.

When your climax hit, it was intense and unworldly.

The first burst of it felt like falling into a cool mountain streak, only for the next tremors to fill you with heat and glow. Your head spinned and your moans and cries intertwined with small gasps of laughter. It was everything at once! Running with the wolves, picking fresh raspberries, twirling around in summer rain.

And when Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud roar, each spurt of his seed seemed to immerse you in hot springs.

It was a rush of sensations; overwhelming, but addictive.

When you met Steve’s gaze - both of you breathing heavily and still rocking into the continuous rhythm of aftershocks - you had no idea your irises bore first specks of inhuman green. All you knew was that you wanted more.

And so you demanded it.

Steve’s grin at your responsiveness was near predatory. He pinned you beneath him on the soft mossy pillows, placed your ankles over his shoulders and plunged into you in a hard thrust that had your scream echoing through the woods.

Soon you’d be bound to him and the forest with every cell of your changing body.

#aspensenchantedbday #buckets-and-trees #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x female reader #Steve Rogers imagine #Steve Rogers fic #Leshy!Steve Rogers #leshy!Steve Rogers x reader #entwined

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holdmytesseract · 7 months

Text

Illusions

°☆• Dream or Nightmare? (Part 2) •☆°

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: When the TVA throws Loki on a journey through his past and future, it turns out to be a cruel rollercoaster ride for the god...

Warnings: angst & sadness, tiny bit fluff, a smol suggestive scene, angst, bit of pregnancy stuff, oh and did I mention angst?

Let me know if I forgot something!

Word Count: 4,1k

a/n: Well... I listened to music - those two songs to be exactly...

... and they inspired me to write this. I am already apologising, because... It's quite sad and angsty. 👀 Or to say it in Mika's words: 'This is the hardest story that I've ever told' - perhaps.

I hope y'all like it! 💚

Tagging: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @chennqingg @jennyggggrrr @theaudacitytowrite @alexakeyloveloki @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @valencia-rou @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The grip of the Minutemen tightened painfully around Loki's arms, as the god tried to break free from their grasp - in vain. He didn't stand a chance against four of them; dragging him down one of the seemingly endless corridors of the TVA.

"Where are they taking me?!" Loki screamed over his shoulder, trying to reach the man in the brown suit with grey-blonde hair and moustache. "Mobius, where are you taking me!" The god received no answer. Not even as the Minutemen hauled him into a big room. It looked familiar, yet different.

While Loki still struggled against the men's harsh grip, he saw Mobius tapping away on his TemPad - until a well known orange 'door' opened. The TVA agent nodded at the Minutemen, who started to move once more - straight towards the portal. "Mobius! Please!" Again, no answer; causing Loki's patience to wear thin. "I demand to know what this is!"

Shortly before the god's body could touch the orange barrier, they stopped - and Mobius appeared in Loki's field of view. "That happens when you break a friend's trust, Loki," he said; stepping closer. His face was stern, but his eyes were filled with a mixture of disappointment and hurt. "I don't want to do this, but you leave me no other choice."

With those words and a last gaze at the 'variant', Mobius turned around and walked away. Loki's jaw dropped. "Mobius! Mobius! Wait! You know the truth! Nothing here is real! You are a mere puppet on a string and you know it! Please!" Loki's plead fell on deaf ears. Again. And before he could say another word, the Minutemen pushed him through the portal.

Loki stumbled; the force of the unmerciful shove took him down. He landed on his knees - already waiting for the incoming pain of the impact; but there was none. At least no strong pain. He had landed rather softly. Nevertheless, slipped a soft groan past the god's lips as he straightened his back; raven curls whipping through the air. Loki looked around; scanning his surroundings - eyes widened instantly.

Underneath his knees was green grass. The air smelt deliciously of a trillion different flowers. A soft breeze rustled the trees nearby, and the moon stood high in the night sky; shining down on him and illuminating the world around him - just like the countless fireflies. He didn't even have to look further to know where he was...

Home.

He was in Asgard, and that was clearly his mother's garden. Why would Mobius send me here? Loki frowned; was confused. Slowly, he got up; brought himself back on his feet. His rather ragged and worn out TVA suit was looking even dirtier now; the green stains of the grass on his knees adding to the demolition.

Everything was quiet. Perhaps too quiet. But that was the last thing Loki cared about, honestly... "Mobius!" He called out once again. "What is this foolery?! Why did you take me home?! Is this real?! What-" The god cut off his own sentence as he suddenly heard something. Laughter... Child's laughter. It was getting closer and closer - until... A young boy with green robes and short black hair ran past him, followed by a young girl in a beautifully bright blue dress; her hair billowing in the wind. They were clearly chasing each other; running light-hearted through Frigga's garden.

Loki watched for a few seconds, before it hit him; eyes widening to the size of plates. His breath hitched in his throat as the two children came running straight towards him; his eyes settling on the little girl's face.

"Y/N..."

Loki breathed out your name; eyes still stuck on your youthful self. It send a jolt through his whole body - and especially through his heart. He remembered. This very night. Your parents and Loki's parents had to speak to the high council - and since your father was Odin's advisor, he needed to join. Frigga had sent you up to Loki's room in order to play, but the two of you chose to go outside instead. He remembered... Every second.

The laughter echoed in his ears as you and his younger self ran straight through him as if he was nothing but a mere projection. "What-" But before Loki could think further about it, the world suddenly started to spin around him. Faster and faster and faster. It took the god to the ground with a loud scream.

Like a few minutes ago, Loki landed soft. This time, though, it wasn't grass... He looked beneath himself. It was straw. Still a bit dizzy from whatever just had happened to him, he shook his head gently and brushed a few loose raven curls out of his face. Chest heaving with the deep breaths he took, he looked up - and immediately recognised this place as well... The royal stables.

"What... What is happening here? What is this?" Loki asked, but of course nobody answered his question.

Then he heard steps. Quick steps - and only a few seconds later, you appeared in the huge door frame of the stable. Now though, you weren't a child anymore. You had grown into a young woman. His heart skipped another beat at the sight of you.

Loki witnessed how you quickly ran barefoot into the stable and hid yourself behind against the wall beside the door; giggling. The next thing he noticed was a voice. His voice.

"Y/N? Y/N! Where did you go?!"

You giggled again; rolling your eyes with a smile. "Come find me, Lokes!" You called out - and Loki remembered. It was again something he had experienced. Years and years ago, of course; in his youth - but nevertheless...

Steps were heard again as a younger Loki, dressed in his armour ran around the corner. Before he could pass you by, you jumped out of your hiding place; straight into the god's arms. He was caught by surprise of course, but then a joyful laugh left his lips, before his palms found your hips and he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

Loki was still standing in the middle of the straw like frozen; watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. His nerve ends tingled; butterflies running wild inside his belly and by the Norns, he could swear that he still felt your lips on his. How soft and kissable they were. You had been his best friend, but on that very day, you had become his lover. His princess.

Loki wanted to relive this wonderful moment in his life longer, but then he felt again that pull and the stable started to spin around him - just as he witnessed how you and him stumbled backwards into the pile of straw; lips still entangled.

"No, no, no, not agaiiiiin!"

Loki felt like falling, before he landed with a thud on a soft but also not soft underground. The smell of pine, moss and earth hit him the second Loki reopened his eyes. Different trees and plants were everywhere around him - but they were painted black. It was dark outside. Again. Looks like the Asgardian forest, the god thought; running a hand through his hair. I must be in the woods.

Loki looked around; eyes searching for you, and after taking a few steps, he found you - and himself. This time, he dared to step closer, giving the fact that he couldn’t be seen anyway. Twigs snapped underneath his feet as he approached you.

You and Loki were on a small glade; a picnic blanket keeping your clothes from getting dirty. You had an arm underneath your neck to support your head - just like Loki, while your free hand was intertwined with his. Both of you were gazing into the night sky; pointing at different stars.

Loki came to stand directly beside you and himself; watching. He swallowed hard; knew exactly where the TVA had taken him. The god had figured out quickly that he was obviously 'travelling' through his memories. And that 'journey' or by Odin's sake whatever this was seemed to have one thing in common... You. No wonder, though. You had always been the key element in Loki's life. You were the one who kept him grounded. His anchor in the raging storms he had to face. Be it his father, brother, Warriors Three or heritage. You had been always there for him, until... Well, until Thanos and New York happened. He always wanted to find his way back to you, but then the TVA ripped him out of his timeline.

Loki swallowed hard in order to suppress the upcoming tears in his eyes; the full force of the realisation hitting him, that he was probably never ever going to see you again. Feel you again. Taste you again. His heart yearned for you - more than ever now, and all he wanted was to go back.

The god got ripped out of his thoughts, as he watched it happen before him. He had been so nervous back then. Afraid of rejection.

"Y/N, I... I know that this might come out of the blue and way too soon, but... I-I can't wait any longer. I-I want to finally make you entirely mine. I can't imagine a life without you anymore. I need you. My heart needs you. It belongs to you already anyway, so..." Loki reached in the pocket of his trousers. With a shaky hand he presented a silvery ring, which was literally shining in the pale blue moonlight. You gasped; hands flying up to cover your mouth, "Would you do me the honour and become my wife?" and then tears started to fall quickly. "N-Norns, L-Loki, I-" You had to take a deep breath to calm your racing heart - something Loki misinterpreted slightly. Fear struck him. "I-I know I can't afford you what my brother could. No title of being Asgard's queen. No throne. No-" You immediately interrupted him with your lips on his.

"Loki, stop that nonsense right now. I don't want Thor. I never did. And I definitely don't need or want the throne or being called the queen. All I need..." You cupped his chiselled cheek; gazing deeply into his blue eyes. "... is you, my prince. Always have been. Always will be. I love you. So, yes. Yes. I want to marry you."

A relieved, light-hearted laugh escaped his lips, before he smiled brightly and slipped the ring on your finger.

Loki, who still stood on the sideline, watching, found himself smiling. He loved that memory; held it close to his heart. It was such a special day for him - and you.

Before he could reminisce for too long, he got pulled out again. This time, though, the world faded entirely to black around him...

Once Loki woke up and slowly came to his senses, he felt pain shoot through his whole body. Perhaps because he had landed full force on a stony underground - unlike before. Nevertheless, he quickly felt a change. Something was different. It was not like the last three times.

Groaning, the god lifted himself off the ground - and immediately recognised what exactly had changed. He was still on Asgard; on the balcony of his chambers, to be exactly, but... He frowned, as he saw you standing underneath the sinking sun; gazing aimlessly into distance with the engagement ring he had given you twinkling in the red-orange rays. He couldn't remember. This time, he couldn't remember. Even though he tried hard to. This was not one of his memories...

Loki stepped closer towards you; eyes never leaving your frame. You were sad. He could tell. Not just because at the look on your face. He could feel it.

Silent tears were running down your cheeks, causing Loki's heart to cry out in pain. He had always hated to see you cry. That hadn't changed. It never would. "Y/N..." Loki whispered. "What is wrong, my love?" You didn't answer; just kept on crying quietly. He wanted to speak up again - but you spoke first.

"Oh Loki..." You cried softly; wiping away some stray tears. "Where are you?" You asked; gaze still directed up into the sky. "I hope you find your way back to me, my beloved... Someday..." His eyes widened; and he immediately started to run the last few meters separating you from him. Loki wanted to comfort you; wrap you up in his arms and wipe away your tears - but he never reached you. His feet stuck suddenly to the ground, as the world slowly started to spin around him. "No, no, no..." Loki mumbled in slight panic; desperately trying to free himself - but his feet wouldn't budge. It was almost like they suddenly acted on their own will.

"Y/N!"

He decided to use his voice instead. "Y/N! I'm here! I'm right here, darling!" Loki reached out his hand - but it was too late. Darkness overcame him as got sucked in the next dark hole, before he got spit out somewhere else.

The ground beneath him was familiar. As if he had been here before - and he was. Loki felt the soft grass of the royal gardens underneath his fingertips, as he heaved his tired body off the grassy ground.

Yes, he was right back to where he was in the beginning - but this time, his mother's garden looked different. Everything was beautifully decorated. Countless white chairs were lined up in front of him; each of them looking neat and elegantly - just like the people sitting on them. White rose petals were everywhere. It was beautiful. The god swallowed hard. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly that he must've landed at a wedding. His gaze drifted to the archway at the end of the passageway; formed by the chairs. It was as well beautifully decorated with white curtains and roses. And underneath the archway... Loki's heart stopped to beat for a moment.

It was you.

You were standing there, wearing the most beautiful wedding dress he had ever seen. Your hair was braided into a stunning plait; speckled with daisies. His heart skipped another beat; pumping pure love through his veins.

But the problem was the same. He couldn’t remember. This never happened. He never had the chance to finally marry-

Loki couldn't believe his eyes. All the people on the chairs, his family standing beside the archway, you... Suddenly everybody turned to face him. Suddenly, every pair of eyes was on him; leaving the god even more confused. Can they see me? Can she see me? Is this real?

Loki felt how the emotions got stuck in his throat. This moment... He had waited for this to happen such a long time. And all of a sudden, it was within reach.

Tears clouded his eyes, as he found himself running again towards you - towards his future; towards everything he ever desired and wanted.

This time, he actually managed to reach you - and for a moment, Loki believed that this was truly happening. That he was going to finally marry you right here, right now. You stretched out your arm towards him. Loki breathed out a teary laugh; reaching for you. He wanted to take your smaller hand into his bigger one; feeling your warm, soft skin finally against his - but he couldn't. His hand just slipped through yours, as if you were a ghost. He tried again - with the same result.

"Take my hand. Come on, Lokes..." You suddenly spoke up; smiling brightly. Your bright Y/E/C eyes were literally shining. "What are you waiting for?"

Loki felt like crying. His happiness washed away like sand on a beach - within a few seconds.

Frantically, he tried to reach for you again. "I-I want to, my love! I want to, b-but... I can't... I-" Loki's body froze once more; signalling him exactly what was about to happen. "No! Please!" He was powerless. He couldn't do anything against it as he got pulled away from you - again.

Another familiar setting, but no familiar memory. It felt like everything happened faster and faster; draining his physical and emotional energy. Whatever this was... Whatever Mobius had thrown him into... It was cruel. Torture.

Loki's body hit the very soft ground with a thud. It was softer than ever before. His palms glided over the surface; realising that he had landed undoubtedly on his bed - and the furniture around him belonged to his chambers.

He would've loved to just stay there and close his eyes to make it all stop, but when he heard the sound of bare feet touching the floor, he got up. Loki's head turned to follow the steps and when his eyes found you, did they widen immediately.

You were standing in the doorway; leading towards his bathing chambers. Nothing but a flimsy satin robe covered your body - which glided off your shoulders and fell to the floor, just in the moment when Loki's eyes settled on you.

The god swallowed hard; jaw slacking. You wore nothing underneath. He just stared. Stared at the holy temple which was your body. Memories flooded his head of endless nights (and days) he spent with you beneath the sheets; worshipping this temple - like you deserved. Like the goddess you were. It shot a warm feeling throughout his whole body; nerve ends tingling with desire - but it also left another gaping hole in his already bruised and battered heart.

He'd be never able to touch you again. To feel your beautiful curves underneath his fingertips; to touch your warm skin with his lips and kiss every square inch of your body.

"Are you finally joining me, my prince?" The sound of your angelic voice grabbed his attention; eyes focusing on your face - which was directed at him now. You were looking over your shoulder; hands working on freeing your hair from the plait.

"Time to consummate our marriage, husband."

It was the last thing you said, before you vanished inside the god's bathing chambers. Loki's feet and hands twitched. He desperately wanted to rip his clothes off his body and follow you, but he wasn't even able to finish that thought.

Darkness swallowed him whole once more.

Loki found himself kneeling on the stony surface of his balcony once again; exhausted. He couldn't take this anymore. His heart couldn't take this anymore. He just wanted it to stop. Unless he was going to break - and little did he know that what was coming now really did break him. The straw that broke the camel's back.

Sure, Loki could've just kept his eyes glued to the ground and not look up, in order to spare himself some pain - but being the fool in love he was, he couldn't. No matter how much it hurt... Seeing you was just too tempting. So, he somehow managed to stand on both feet again and looked up.

You were leaning against the beautifully crafted railing. You hair was flying in the warm summer breeze. You were clearly enjoying the warm rays of sunshine on your face and the naked skin which wasn't wrapped in the beautiful emerald green dress you were wearing.

A goddess. You looked like a goddess.

Loki's eyes wandered over your body - but suddenly froze in place. He felt his heart drop for the millionth time; but this time it shattered into a trillion pieces. The god's knees buckled; legs almost giving in. Pregnant. You were visibly pregnant. There was no doubt - and with the next blink of his eyes, the tears started to mercilessly fall; wetting his ragged shirt.

"N-No, please... Please..." He didn't even know what he was begging for. For his eyes to betray him? For this to end? For you to finally be able to notice him? For the illusion to fall?

The smile on your face was brighter than the sun itself, as you ran your palms absent-mindedly over your swollen stomach - until it dropped and your eyes widened for a moment; looking shocked. Loki's heart was jumping over the cliff alongside your smile - but then you breathed out a laugh.

"Loki, I... I can feel her!" Her? "She's kicking! Come, feel!"

Your words caused even more tears to roll down the god's cheeks, as he began to shake his head. "I-I can't, Y/N, I-I can't..." Loki whispered; voice filled with despair and sadness.

But you couldn't hear him - and perhaps didn't even see him. That hadn't changed. But it didn't stop you from doing something you hadn't done the last three times the TVA had tortured him with your presence. You walked over to Loki; stopping mere inches in front of him. To feel you so close almost caused his heart to explode. He inhaled a shaky breath; swearing that he was able to smell you.

"Feel, my love," you repeated - and without blinking grabbed his hand to press it against the side of your stomach. Loki gasped; his whole body shivering. Your warm, clothed skin suddenly on his; the soft fabric of the dress underneath his fingertips; the clearly noticeable kicks against his palm. It was overwhelming. So overwhelming, he didn't even question why you were able to actually touch him.

It was a small moment of bliss, before he broke entirely...

In this moment of bliss and blinding love, he wanted to reach for your hand and bury his head against your baby bump to feel more - but like before, he couldn't. His hand slipped through yours, as if he was trying to capture air. This realisation dragged him back down to earth, reminding him that this was nothing but a cruel game the TVA played. It wasn't real.

Loki broke. His legs gave in as he sunk to his knees; palm slipping from your body. His vision went blurry.

"Mobius, please... D-Don't do this to me, please... I can't anymore. I can't. I-I know this isn't real. I know it isn't. Please stop it. I can't have that w-with her - I-I never will. She is n-not truly here. Please. Have mercy. I can't take this any longer." He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. It was all too much.

All of a sudden, everything got quiet around him. All Loki could hear were his own muffled cries and sobs. The god had curled himself up into a ball - nothing more than a picture of misery.

He didn't know how long he was half kneeling, half laying on the cold ground. Perhaps only a few seconds; perhaps a few hours - but at some point he could hear quiet steps approaching. Brown dress shoes came into his field of few. Definitely not you.

"Loki, I... I didn't know, I... I am sorry." A soft, familiar voice urged to Loki's ears. "I didn't know that Ravonna would send you through this..." Mobius.

The god lifted his head; looked straight into the sorrowful, compassionate face of his 'friend'. The agent offered him his hand, which Loki took to lift his exhausted body off the ground. "W-What... What was that? Torture, I assume." The man opposite him swallowed visibly. "It... It was a glimpse into the future, but also an illusion." Loki's eyebrows slanted into a frown, causing Mobius to explain further.

"What you saw was everything that happened... and could've happened."

Now he understood; a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You showed me something I'd die for to have but never could. She's out of reach - and she'll forever be. Just like what you showed me. Am I right?" Mobius swallowed again; didn't dare to say something. So, he just nodded carefully.

Loki's heart broke all over again; another bitter laugh finding its way past his lips. It truly hurt Mobius to see him this way.

"I am sorry. I didn't know that Y/N-" The god shook his head, interrupting him immediately. "Don't. Just stop, please."

Defeated, the TVA agent nodded.

A few beats of silence passed, before a small whirring sound announced the opening of a portal. "Come on. Let's get you out of here and talk, huh?" Loki nodded; wordlessly following Mobius.

There was no point in arguing or stepping up against him. Loki's glorious purpose was gone. He had lost - everything which ever meant something to him. His brother. His mother. His life. But especially, he had lost you - and the life he could've had with you. Love. A happy marriage. A child. Everything was gone within the blink of an eye; and only now did he realise, that he already had lost all of it the second he made that one wrong step which got him here.

There was no point in fighting anymore. He had nothing left to fight for. All that was left, was a gaping hole in his broken heart.

No hope. No love. No happy ending.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #Spotify

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holymusicalmothman · 7 months

Text

Sweet Nothings -- OPLA!Sanji x Reader

I've only seen the Live Action, so this is new for me. I started reading the manga a few hours ago and the anime is bookmarked on my Crunchyroll. But for now, I'm working with what I've got. So this is exclusively the Live Action. Best friends to Lovers Trope cause I wanted to. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out so I might redo it at some point.

Also, shoutout to @avidanadvocacy who managed to like and reblog this within, like, five seconds of me posting it. They're probably the only reason I sat down and wrote this lol

Warnings: vague mentions of canon typical violence, reader is very cautious of showing the fact they're rather soft (not sure if that counts as a warning or makes sense, I'm tired lol)

No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

You had known Sanji since you were young. You had both been around twelve at the time Zeff took you in, after you had been abandoned rather unceremoniously at the Baratie. You couldn’t remember much about the pirates who had left you behind, not that it mattered to you. You were thankful, even after all the years since, that Zeff had taken you in. You weren’t a skilled cook, but you were diligent and hard working, so you worked as a head waiter.

Having grown up around Sanji, you were used to his…antics. He was a flirt to each and every female customer, but whenever you asked, he would wave you off and laugh about it being how he simply ‘gets the customers to keep coming back.’ And you’d roll your eyes and continue on with your business. He had been your best friend for years. When you had initially met, you had simply clicked and that was that. Nothing to it.

He would make you smile on your worst days and you’d do the same for him. Because that’s what friends do. Right?

The first moment you had doubted that his friendship was just that was the day he lent you his coat.

You had just stopped in the kitchen to drop off orders and take a quick breather. The lunch rush at the Baratie was merciless on a good day.

The winds had shifted earlier in the day and despite the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, a chill passed through you and you shivered.

Within moments, a navy blue suit jacket had been deposited around your shoulders.

You turned to see Sanji grinning at you.

“Wouldn’t do for our favorite waiter to catch cold now, would it?” He said before walking deeper into the kitchen.

You smiled at his retreating form, then slipped your arms into the coat properly and rolled the sleeves so that you’d be able to work.

A bit of time had passed since then, and you stopped to survey the tables around the restaurant, putting your hands into the pockets of Sanji’s jacket.

Your fingers brushed against something and you pulled it out in confusion.

A pebble sat in the palm of your hand. Just as blue as the day you had initially found it two years back.

Zeff had sent you both for supplies and you had spotted it. It was a stunning cerulean blue and you had immediately thought of your best friend. He had told you of the All Blue, and ever since that moment you had associated the color with him. Not every shade of blue, of course, but only the ones that were the most beautiful. One’s that caught the eye and seemed to shimmer.

You had almost forgotten the tiny pebble. But this jacket…Sanji’s favorite. There would be no way he’d be unaware of it being in the pocket.

You put the stone back. Your mind racing.

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The one thing you didn’t like about the Baratie was the fighting. You knew it was inevitable, especially with pirates. You were old enough now to look past it. It was a fact of life. Sometimes it was genuine fighting, other times customers simply got into little spats that were easier to ignore.

You sighed and wandered into the kitchen. Zeff had stepped out to smooth the wrinkles on whatever argument had broken out. To be entirely honest, the dinner shift had taken it out of you and you were exhausted.

You plopped down in a chair off to the side with another heavy sigh and shut your eyes.

The clink of dishware being set before you and a chair scraping the ground next to you brought you to open your eyes again.

A rice dish sat in front of you, a glass of water next to it. Sanji’s eyes watched you carefully.

“What is it?” You knew the Baratie menu inside and out, and this was definitely not on it.

A signature smile graced his face. “Seafood risotto. Nothing terribly fancy, just terribly good.”

“Does Zeff know about this?” You asked, taking a bite. It was divine.

Blue eyes twinkled. “What the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Sanji paused, smile fading and voice growing soft. “You seem tired, sweetheart.”

You tried to squash the flutter in your chest. It had been months since you found the pebble in Sanji’s coat, and you had found out that he always carried it. Your heart had run away with that information. And while the blond had called you by the same pet name for years, it felt different now that your affections towards your best friend had shifted. You kept the information to yourself, afraid of change.

So instead you shrugged, continuing to eat. “I guess I’m a little tired? The dining room has kept me on my toes all day and I didn’t sleep very easy last night.”

Sanji’s brows furrow in concern at that. “Well, make sure you finish eating. And try and get some better sleep tonight. For me, yeah?”

You swallowed. He always looked at you so sweetly. Always treated you so differently than the girls he flirted with for good tips. Now he was giving you that small smile, blond hair in his face as always, but the softness in his eyes was unmistakable.

You nodded, “Of course, Sanji.”

Your heart was doing somersaults.

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

Monkey D Luffy came barrelling into both your lives like a cannonball. One moment life was as it had been for years, the next finds both you and Sanji preparing to leave the Baratie and join the crew of the Going Merry

You weren’t sure why Luffy had insisted you come too. When you had asked him, he had only shrugged with a smile, saying that it had felt like the right thing to do.

So, you made yourself useful where you could. Whether it be helping Sanji, or any of the other Straw Hats.

Luffy had soon after discovered that you enjoyed writing.

It was the day before everything went wrong.

You and Sanji had left the Baratie that afternoon, Zorro was on the road to recovery from his battle against Dracule Mihawk, and everything seemed fine .

A conversation of dreams had even arisen over a meal, and you had shyly mentioned how you enjoyed writing. Not that there was time for it while waiting tables.

Sanji was surprised and intrigued to find a new side of you. You had never mentioned it to him. It was just a silly little hobby in your eyes and, in the life you led, you had always kept those simple things to yourself. Not even sharing them with your best friend.

Luffy, however, had been delighted and immediately asked if you would document the voyage.

Granted, his wording had been more along the lines of “write down our adventures”, but same thing.

Later that night, Sanji had found you on the deck, a new journal in your hand.

“A writer, eh?” He had that soft voice again.

You nodded, refusing to look at him properly. “I want to be a famous poet someday.” You whispered, inwardly afraid of making such an admission.

The years on the Baratie had led you to shove all the soft spoken emotions deep down, gentleness was not a trait most pirates were fond of. But your new captain was the exact opposite, his kindness earning your trust instantly. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you had found a new and true friend in Luffy.

But you’d never replace Sanji.

Your heart seemed to clench and you opened your mouth to apologize for keeping it from him, but when you looked at him, your breath caught and your voice failed you.

The chef was always sweet on you, but he looked at you in that moment as if you had hung the stars.

“What a mind.” He said quietly, as if he was simply in awe of you.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji had been looking at you like that for years. There was a reason he called you sweetheart, why you were always the first to try his new creations, why he treated you so differently than all the other girls. A reason why he was so sweet on you.

Everyone could see it. Zorro knew. Nami knew. Usopp knew. Luffy knew. The young captain had made sure to bring you both from the Baratie. If it meant he had to separate the two of you, then Luffy would have never had Sanji come aboard as Chef.

Even Zeff knew. Which was why he had let you both go.

However, you couldn’t see it.

But in that moment, with Sanji looking at you, you were ready to throw it all away. Willing to possibly ruin years of friendship if it just meant you could kiss him once.

'Cause they said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Nami’s betrayal had shocked you all to the core. You had only known her for such a short time, but it had still hurt.

Sanji was convinced that her alliance with Arlong wasn’t something she had chosen. Zorro seemed to only see it in black and white, positive that she had made her choice.

Luffy simply wanted to hear the truth from Nami herself. And only then would he believe it.

So the Going Merry was currently sailing for the Conomi Islands just to hear that truth.

It was once again late at night, but sleep would not come. The day’s events play over and over in your mind, keeping you wide awake.

So you headed quietly to the kitchen only to find the light on and an equally awake Sanji sitting quietly with a cup of tea, humming to himself.

You froze. You had almost kissed him the night before, fear holding you back.

But he had already seen you.

“Can’t sleep either, can you, sweetheart?”

You gave up on resisting, going to sit beside him.

Without speaking, he poured you a cup of tea, setting it before you.

“Chamomile. Should help.” Was all he said.

The day had left you both content with each other’s silence as you sat next to each other, shoulders brushing lightly. Sanji eventually went back to humming.

You couldn’t tell if it was the gentle movement of the ship as it sailed, the tea, or even Sanji himself humming softly next to you, but eventually your eyes shut.

Vaguely, you were aware of being carried and eventually set down gently in your hammock.

Something brushed your forehead and you thought you heard Sanji’s voice before you drifted fully into sleep. You felt almost certain it was a kiss, but you were too deep in the fog of sleep to deem that true. It had most likely been your imagination.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

The fight against Arlong and his pirates had once again changed everything overnight. You wouldn’t lie, it was terrifying. But you had prevailed. The Straw Hats won in the end. Nami and her village were safe.

It had brought so many things to light for you. As soon as you had all reboarded the Going Merry, you dutifully recorded the events of the day, from the villagers of Coco Village to the fight at Arlong Park, you made your way to the kitchen, needing solace from your best friend.

Your emotions had been bottled the whole day. Yes, fighting was inevitable. You were a pirate, it was simply a fact of life. But you still didn’t like it.

“Sanji?” You called.

The kitchen was empty to your surprise, so you made your way to the deck, finding him by the tangerine trees.

He had the pebble in his hand as you walked up and your heart began to race. He slipped it back into his pocket as he noticed you and you pretended not to see.

Instead you wrapped your arms around his middle, and Sanji instantly returned your hug, holding you close.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. I think…” you trailed off.

Sanji released you from the hug, but still kept you within his arms. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded. “I think…I’m too soft for all this sometimes.” You admitted slowly. “I mean, I can do it, don’t get me wrong. But, Sanji, today was terrifying. And the Grand Line is supposed to be worse.”

That twinkle and smile were back again. “You’re not too soft, sweetheart. You’re perfect. You were strong today, and I know you don’t like fighting. But you’re brave, and you protect those you care about. Being soft doesn’t make you weak.”

“But what if it does?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “Because–”

You stopped, confessions halting on your lips.

“Because what, sweetheart? Stop hiding yourself, it’s just me.”

“That’s exactly why I’m hiding.”

He frowned in confusion, silently imploring you to continue.

“Because you make me feel soft. I kept my writing to myself because somehow it always ended up being about you. Whether it be the way you look at me or even the fact you kept that pebble.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently he had genuinely thought you hadn’t noticed.

“We’re supposed to be pirates, Sanji. There’s no softness allowed in this profession.”

He gently pulled you a little closer, warm breath now able to be felt on your face as he spoke, “I think we’ve already proven we’re a different sort of pirate than what’s expected, sweetheart.”

You were drowning in an ocean of greyish blue. The little nickname. That tiny sweet nothing. It wore down any and all of the final doubts and reserves in your mind and the two of you melted into each other.

He held you tightly, arms around you as both your hands grabbed tightly to his shirt, the both of you lost in a kiss that seemed like forever.

Eventually it ended, and he rested his forehead gently against yours.

“I’m in love with you, sweetheart.” He said gently. “How’s that for being soft, hmm?”

A small smile formed upon your face. The both of you had been oblivious to the other, yes. But at the same time, all of Sanji’s little sweet nothings over the years–both in words and actions–played quickly through your head. The past week had pulled everything straight to the surface.

“I love you, too.”

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothings.

Not entirely happy with this but it's late. Let me know what you think. I'm still new to this fandom, and there's a lot of content that I've yet to learn about. But I'll get there.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece live action x reader #thismothwrites

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psychedelic-ink · 11 months

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell

genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni

word count: 7.2k

summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.

warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging

a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️‍🔥

**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.

The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen.

While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside.

“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?”

“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?”

As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.

“His name is Oberyn.”

For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap.

“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?”

“Or something.”

You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.”

“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke.

“We’re both polyamorous.”

“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.”

She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.”

“Is he nice to you?”

You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything.

Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze.

“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.”

“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.”

“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.”

“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.”

“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment.

“Ah, that must be Oberyn.”

Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately.

With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat.

No matter how good she looks.

You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb.

A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look.

While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly.

“Likewise.”

Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria.

“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.”

You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand.

“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.”

A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”

You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look.

“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts.

You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."

Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.

A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body.

"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.”

“You’re a professor?”

He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls."

His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him.

Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply.

“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.”

His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer.

Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss.

You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?”

That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.”

“She. . . does?”

“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.”

And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to.

You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger?

When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties.

“Oberyn. . .”

You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs.

Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips.

“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?”

Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?”

You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both.

“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.”

“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better.

Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.

“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.”

“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. “Do you, little one?”

You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck.

“Words, love.” Ellaria commands.

“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.”

Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds.

Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head.

Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.”

“You saw that?”

“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.”

You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears.

He feels. . . big.

“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—

He bites you.

With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving.

“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?”

“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.”

Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips.

Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more.

When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states.

With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw.

“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.”

Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.”

Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.”

“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?”

“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.”

“Ellaria!”

“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.”

“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.”

Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling.

“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead.

Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least.

Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape.

You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.

“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.”

“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?”

“Yes.”

Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more.

When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles.

You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh.

“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.”

If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?”

Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.

Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling.

“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.”

“You don’t think I’m boring?”

“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.”

When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria.

Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip.

“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear.

An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?”

“Only slightly.”

She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze.

“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.”

You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.”

With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs.

“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.”

It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye.

She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.”

The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him.

“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.”

Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper.

You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress.

Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses.

“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.”

“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers.

He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat.

“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?”

Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard.

Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in.

“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.”

Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her.

His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded.

“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse.

Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.”

“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess.

“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass.

You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind.

Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?”

Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.”

“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck.

“Green,” you say with a whimper.

Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently. She hums with approval.

“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn.

“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.”

You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick.

Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria.

It’s a beautiful mess.

You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once.

Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth.

Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well.

Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens.

You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure.

“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”

fuckfuckfuck

The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him.

“You like that?”

Shit, he noticed.

“I—I—”

He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue.

“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.”

Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.”

“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you.

Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn.

Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet.

“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.”

You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?”

“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.”

Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over.

It doesn’t take you long after that.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria.

She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick.

You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?”

“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.”

When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression.

You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere.

“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination.

“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching.

Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth.

He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs.

“It’ll be over soon.”

The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of. And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so.

They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache.

“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.”

The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.”

You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.”

“Is it really?” you ask.

Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.”

Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.”

“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.”

As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will.

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