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#Come now bite through these wires
threadsun · 11 months
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Gonna be real with you the gender studies degree made it MORE complicated for you probably. (This is not a bad thing)
I tend to go with vagina-haver or penis-haver myself tho if I'm angling for a specific genital setup ngl.
Yeahhhhhhhhh 😔 ngl so many of my professors in that degree were terfs who didn't know what intersex people were that I have like... an instinctive contrarian reaction to these things. And I've done so much research into sex and gender and sex assignment and the language used around them that my brain feels like a fried microwave when I try to come up with a simple answer for my silly fun blog that is meant to be stress free.
I absolutely prefer part-specific language like... in general. Just in general life, I think it's more important when talking about sex (the body configuration, not the act) to reference specific parts than to try to use gender language to describe it. Amab and afab come with all sorts of assumptions about the body that are often untrue for intersex people or trans people who have had surgery or disabled people whose disabilities altered their primary or secondary sex characteristics or hormones. And like, probably also a bunch of other people I'm forgetting too. Because people are complicated and the medical ideal of what a perisex cisgender man and woman look like don't account for a significant percent of the population.
But yeah, like ideally people would specify pronouns/gender/body parts if they care about any of those and want something specific. But then there's also the inherent idea that someone with a penis won't have breasts, for example, when plenty of bodies have both. Or the assumption that someone who has a penis also has a pair of testicles, or someone with a vagina doesn't also have a penis or clitoromegaly, or that they haven't had medical intervention (consensual or nonconsensual) to change sex traits. It's messy!! It's all so messy and confusing and we don't have the right language for it to be concise and clear because our whole language was developed by a society that actively wants to pretend these variations don't exist and/or make sure they don't exist.
And this doesn't take into account the innate assumptions that have to be made to write a reader insert story with any level of detail. Assumptions about the number of limbs someone has, whether or not they have hair, whether or not they can walk and talk and hear and see. But if you completely scrub a reader insert story of anything that might make an assumption about the reader, then what are you left with? Nothing worth reading, that's for sure.
Idk idk sorry I think I might just be going a lil insane tonight? That scrupulous OCD is hitting hard. But yeah, my brain feels like maybe its exploded a little or possibly been submerged under water.
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lilithisms · 3 months
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tags.
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soap-ify · 2 months
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NSFW
https://www.tumblr.com/cornoeputassa/123594506236/adoro-espiar
Would you wire a little of depraved soap offered to stay the night at the Riley’s home, he’s snooping and hears the sweet sound of Simon’s wife’s moans and peeks through the keyhole 🫢
tumblr porn link. OH BOY. pure filth incoming.
cw — non-consensual voyeurism (as in reader is not aware of soap peeking through the keyhole, he's doing it without their permission), p in v, male masturbation, soap's horny as fuck.
soap peeks through the keyhole to watch ghost fuck you.
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soap from five minutes ago would have been ashamed for doing such an act, but not this one. greedily kneeling outside of the bedroom door with his eyes desperately trying to look through the tiny keyhole, he was far too gone to stop himself now.
ghost had gladly let soap stay in his house for the night, not wanting him to sleep in his freezing flat which was currently going through some power outage. oh boy, he’d never let that happen. soap was closest to ghost, second to you, of course. he was ghost’s best friend, the man who’d seen the worst with him.
soap felt somewhat horrible deep within for taking advantage of a situation like this, for hearing your sweet squeals and moans echo through the room while ghost’s cock slammed into you firmly, as if on a personal mission to make you even louder than you already are.
like some nasty mutt awaiting its owner, he sat outside the door of the bedroom you and ghost were in, his hand clumsily rubbing his aching boner through the fabric of his jeans, his other hand clasped against his mouth to hold in his heavy breathing, drool sliding down his chin.
“oh fuck, look at you. takin’ me so well, love. my perfect wife.” ghost gruffly chuckled, large calloused hands spreading your legs a bit more, easing them around his waist before pulling you down onto his cock once more.
unable to produce comprehensible words, all you could do was moan deliriously, momentarily forgetting that you had a guest at home.
soap internally cursed the keyhole for being so damn tiny, barely able to make out how both you and ghost were looking right now. shamefully needy for both his lieutenant and his wife, he continued to rub himself through his jeans, his cock greedily twitching within the confinements of his clothes. a good pair of boxers all wasted. oh how he wished he could see you both right now, or even be with you and ghost. images of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock while ghost rammed into you filled his head, bringing him closer to the edge.
“si, i’m so close-!” your choked moan almost caused soap to moan as well, biting hardly onto his hand while his other proceeded to rub himself faster, breathing growing shallower, trying to memorise the wet noises of your squelching cunt taking in his cock alongside the noises of the bed creaking a bit. he wondered if the bed had ever been broken before.
soap came right alongside you, shooting thick ropes inside his boxers, cringing a bit at the sensation of his clothes getting dirty. he breathed shakily and tried not to lose his balance, eyes feasting upon the barely visible sight of you coming apart on ghost’s cock, the lieutenant’s heavy breathing and your whimpers making his head almost blank out.
ghost’s head tilted to the side slightly, eyes falling onto the closed door, a knowing smirk slowly adorning his lips while you panted obliviously beneath him.
soap could make out ghost’s head turning over to the door, and he knew that he was fucked.
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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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bruisedboys · 5 months
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Jealous Finnick part 2?
Instead it’s with Peeta and training for the Quarter Quell? 👀
of course honey! thank you for requesting x
finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader
Finnick's not exactly pleased when he finishes in the training simulation and finds you teaching Peeta how to make a fish hook. Your fingers are quick and delicate as they work thin bronze wire around a makeshift hook. Peeta copies you, pressed far too close to your side for Finnick's liking. The younger blonde is totally enraptured, and sure, Finnick doesn't blame him, you're beautiful, but still — a frown works onto his face on it's own accord.
"Hey," he makes himself known as he approaches your workstation, because you're too focused on your work, and Peeta's too focused on you.
You look up at the sound of his voice and beam. It makes Finnick feel a little better you're so happy to see him. "Finnick, hey. You're done already?"
Finnick's frown deepens. "Yeah. I got bored."
"You got bored of chucking your spear at stuff?" You tease.
Peeta laughs next to you. Something claws at Finnick’s heart.
"Very funny, sweetheart," he tells you, ignoring Peeta. He rounds the table to get an arm around your hips, tucking his chin over your shoulder, his front pressed to your back. "What are you making?"
You warm at his closeness. "Just a hook. It’s not very good. Mags showed me how, remember?"
Finnick hums, watching your hands over your shoulder. "Mm, I remember. It looks good to me."
"Peeta's looks better," you say. "Pete, hun, show him yours."
Pete? Hun? Finnick feels suddenly like he's been punched in the throat. He can’t focus as Peeta hands his hook over and you show it to Finnick, raving about the attention to detail, or something. He‘a hardly listening, too busy trying not to kick Peeta in the leg. Pins and needles bite at his skin and dance over his palms. He accidentally digs his fingers too hard into your hip and you twist in his hold to look up at him, concerned.
"Hey, are you okay?" You ask him. You forget the hooks, setting them on the table and twisting to look at Finnick properly. You touch his arm. “Baby, you're really stiff."
Finnick pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “Am I?"
You hum and take his jaw in your hand. "Yeah, honey." You pout at him, your hand dropping to his shoulder where you dig your thumb into the muscle there. "Could I give you a massage later, would that help?"
Finnick swallows hard. "I— yeah, okay." You want to give him a massage? You’re the loveliest person on the planet, he thinks.
"Okay,” you nod. “Remind me tonight, yeah?"
You beam at him and push up onto your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. Finnick feels far too overwhelmed to kiss back. He’s still dazed when you pull away and turn back to Peeta, who looks half embarrassed, like he shouldn’t be watching such an unabashed show of affection.
“Peeta was gonna show me some of his camouflage tricks,” you tell Finnick. “Did you wanna come, too?"
Finnick doesn’t answer right away, and at his pause, you lace your fingers through his and smile up at him, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“Please?” You ask, all sugary sweet, practically dripping in fondness.
“Okay,” Finnick nods, feeling a bit like you’ve put him under a spell. “Yeah.”
You beam at him and then drag him with you to follow Peeta to the opposite corner of the training room. Finnick doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but he knows for sure now he never had any reason to be jealous.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months
Text
Hands to myself
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pairings - drew starkey x reader
summary - getting high with Drew.
warnings - unprotected sex, masterbation, hair pulling, language, drugs. (18+)
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Smoke swirled above you, fanning throughout the basement. You took another puff and passed the joint to Drew, his greedy fingers nabbed it instantly.
Dropping your head to the back cushion, your bloodshot eyes stared at his lips. He brought the joint to them, taking in a deep breath. Your hooded eyes closed for but a second to reopen, his lips circled and he started puffing o’s into the air. You can’t help the rolling of your eyes, “Show off” you scoffed, nudging him in the ribs. He gave you a sloppy grin and took another drag, handing the joint to whoever occupied the seat next to him.
“Fuck your pretty” he states, his hand palms your face, thumb brushing at the apples of your cheeks that now sported a shade of pink. “Fuck your high” you chuckled, you stare at each other for what seems like 2 seconds but your being tapped on the shoulder and handed back the blunt so it had to have been longer.
You're quick to take it and look around the room, everyone is mellowed out. Chatting amongst themselves not caring what anyone was doing. The music drowned out the conversations, you felt like you were in your own bubble. You didn’t know too many at this party, it was mainly celebrities. The only reason you said yes to coming was because you couldn’t keep away from Drew, he was the reason you breathed.
You feel his hand on your thigh, giving you a soft squeeze. You take another drag of the blunt and pass it to him, he copies your actions, his eyes never leave yours as he passes it along. “No seriously, your so fucking pretty”.
“Kiss me”.
He pulls you to his lap, groping the flesh of your ass as his lips work against yours. Your fingers rake through his grown out buzz cut, a soft moan trickles up his throat and into your mouth. “You like that?” You mumbled, he’s quick to chase your lips and bring them back against his own. He answers you by biting down on your lower lip, rolling your hips down onto his. “Drew I-”
He silences you by kissing you again, you feel drunk on his touch. Your skin tingles all over, your chest feels heavy. You want him closer to you, you want to feel him all over your skin. “I need you” you whined, your favorite thing to do when high was fuck Drew. He had this new found stamina when he was off his chops, his cock stayed hard for hours. He had you cumming until your pussy was swollen. “Please” you beg, he’s quick to pull you both to stand. Neither of you cared what people around thought, moments later he was dropping you on the bathroom sink and locking the door swiftly.
“What did you want, pretty girl?” You're reaching for his shirt, balling the material in your fist and pulling him towards you. Your lips are quick to envelope his . Your tongue exploring the inside of his mouth, his fingers ran up the expanse of your stomach until they hit the wire of your bra. “Let’s get rid of this” he says, pulling the material of your shirt away from your body and unclipping your bra.
Your nipples hardened under his stare, head dropping towards your breasts. Suckling on your nipple, your back arched in his hand. Your head leant against the mirror as he sucked and palmed at your tits “I’m so wet” you announce, you can feel your arousal in your panties. It’s uncomfortable and sticky, you reach down to your shorts and unbutton them. “Uh uh” he tuts, slapping your hand away. He pulls his own shirt over his head and helps you pull the remaining off your clothes off, bringing the heels of your feet to the edge of the counter as he drops his pants.
Your wet cunt stares at him, begging him to touch. “Fuck… you really are wet” he hums, but he doesn’t touch you. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, he palms his aching cock between his fist, your pussy clenched at the sight and his eyes zoned in on your opening. “Please Drew!” You're begging again, your head feels fuzzy from the weed and your body warm. “Touch yourself”
You shake your head, you want him to touch you. You needed to feel his fingers inside of you. Your small ones never did the trick, his eyes snap to yours and he steps closer. You can almost feel the tip of his cock on your folds but he holds it away from you. “Touch yourself”.
You nod, reaching between legs and toying with your clit. You almost fall off the counter as your body juts at the sensation, he’s quick to hold you in place. He jerks his cock so close to your fingers, you could grab him and angle him to your hole, but you don’t.
Instead you close your eyes, bite your tongue and push your fingers inside of you. The palm of your hand rubs softly against your clit, your fingers are soaked with your arousal. “Fuck.. you look so fucking good baby girl”.
“Yeah? Oh fuck.. drew this feels so good” you moans, your hips roll into your hand. You needed more, you needed him. “Feel as good as my hands?”
“Fuck no.. I need your hands! I need your cock” you state, but you don’t let up your movement. You can feel the flutters in your lower belly. Your walls clench around three of your fingers. “Want my cock?” “Please oh god please!”
His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your fingers out of you with a ‘pop’. “Not god baby, just me” His eyes are on yours as he brings your fingers to his open mouth, and sucks them clean, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.
His cock pressed between your folds, you grind your hips against him. “I could taste you every second of the day”.
“Mhmm but right now I need you to fuck me”
He chuckles, pulling your face to his for a kiss. He grabs you from the counter and turns you around, your eyes meet in the mirror.
He pushes his palm between your shoulder blades and kicks his foot between your legs, you widen them for him and stick your ass out high. “Such a good girl”
“Such a good girl who needs to be fucked right now”
You were getting impatient, your cunt was practically weeping to be filled up. “Needy baby” he chuckled, he ran the tip of his cock between your folds. You pushed back on him when he pressed your opening, you all but growled when he pushed inside, your hands clenched around the bathroom taps. “Jesus Christ baby, relax” he grunted, you squeezed him so tight not wanting him to remove himself from you just yet. “If you don’t relax I’m going to cum” he warned, you're quick to unclench around him. His hands held your hips, thrusting him in and out at a painfully slow pace. “Please Drew.. I’ll get on my goddamn knees and beg for you to fuck me harder” you whined, his hand on your back stopped you from pulling yourself up and doing exactly what you had said. “Damn baby, this weed has really made you whiny!”
You're about to protest but he shuts you up by pounding into you, your tits smack against the vanity table. The grip he has on your hips has you mewling and crying, his hips meet your ass with such force you're worried he’s going to send you through the mirror.
“Oh fuck.. Drew! I- oh”
The sound of wet skin slapping drowns out the music from behind the bathroom door, your eyes rolled back so far and mouth wide open. You can’t breath, his cock buried so deep inside of you has you dick drunk. “Come on baby girl… look at me”.
When you don’t immediately do as he says he’s pulling your ponytail, your eyes stare at him through the mirror. The grip he has on your hair is aching, his fingers grip at the root of your scalp. “Don’t stop looking”.
You nod your head numbly, his eyes switch between you and where you both meet. The look on his face could have you coming around his cock but he’s quick to pull out of you when he feels that familiar pulsating. “Hey’” you whined, he moved back onto the sink. Pushing himself into you again, your ass is cold on the marble sending a shiver down your spine. “You feel so fucking good” he groans, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His chest is hot against yours, his lips leaving behind small bruises on your neck. Your fingers scratch up and down his back, trying to pull him closer to you. “Such a perfect pussy”
He’s mumbling praise into your chest, pounding ruthlessly into your hole. “Like that! O-oh! Drew”.
You cry out in pleasure, his hand sliding from your hair to your throat. He gives it a slight squeeze, the breath getting caught for a moment. “Fuck” you breath when he lets go, that breathless daze you get when your running out of breath washes over you. “Again!”.
He gives you another squeeze and you cling to his forearm, rolling your hips against his. Your clit rubs against his lower stomach.
“Kiss me please” you beg, he grips your throat and presses his lips to yours. It’s hungry and sloppy and you never want it to end. “Oh shit.. I-”
The all too familiar feelings bleed through your veins, “I’m going to cum” you warn, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down onto your lip. He grabs your waist and angles himself deeper. He lets out a groan of pleasure, breathing harshly through his nose.
You can no longer hold on, letting the wave of pleasure hit you at full force. Physically shaking around him, a buzzing spreads through your eardrums and your visions splotches. You're soaking his cock, pure arousal dripping from every inch of you.
He’s quick to follow, rutting his hips into you a few more times before dropping his load deep inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch against your swollen walls.
“I need another blunt” you laugh, the high had been flattened by your orgasm. Your body buzzed from a different kind of euphoria.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 6 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader
Summary: All the buildup, all the teasing, finally leads to this: Simon is back and ready to act on all those filthy things you two had been teasing each other with. Will you make it home before you both explode? Or will the car have to do to break the tension?
Word Count: 5.1 k
Warnings:
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Part 2:
Unsteady hands gripped hard into the steering wheel, knuckles white as you tightly held on while headed straight to the military base. Your heart pounding furiously inside your chest, breath quick and short the closer you got, it was nearly impossible to keep your eyes focused on the road. Christ were you gnawing at the bit to get there and once again see that beast of a man, the one keeping you begging for release for the past three months.
Those breathtaking bits of personalized porn you two had sent each other had done nothing other than made that inconvenient ache into a raging monster that could not be quenched. Hours spent furiously working yourselves, silently begging for a little ease in the constant throbbing had gotten nowhere except to drain the battery life on your phones from the constant re-watching of videos.
…though that last photo he sent you of his abdomen covered in his milky white cum after having watched your little romp into amateur pornography had left you feeling on top of the world for a couple days.
And just as you were on that last leg of desperation, finally the light at the end of the tunnel that led up to you driving where you were today. It had been exactly one week from when you got the text you had been waiting on from Simon:
“I’m coming home, baby. Fucking finally; Christ I thought I was going to rub myself raw. Best not wear anything you want to remain intact, you hear me? Cause the minute I get my paws on you, that's it.”
Thank fuck, the suffering was almost over.
That entire week seemed to drag on endlessly, each day crawling through at a snails pace, but here you were now only a few more minutes away from your destination. Even as you checked in at the entrance to the base, antsy and squirming in the seat of your car, you couldn’t believe that you had actually made it.
You took Simon’s message to heart when you got ready that morning, choosing a simple, flowy dress that he could literally shred off of you and you wouldn’t give a shit. It was just long enough that it could easily conceal the fact that you had done away with the panties today, opting for ease of access over anything else, but low cut enough in the front that he could get a nice eyeful of your full chest; you had no idea what would happen the moment you saw each other again and you weren’t taking any chances.
This reunion was bound to be explosive after all the visual edging you two had been doing lately and having to waste even a second more of time before your bodies could be joined felt like a crime.
You walked through the base, heartbeat rapidly increasing with each step as you got closer to where you knew you'd find that hulking Lieutenant hanging around.
And then you turned a corner and there he was like a specter brought back to life, standing idly beside the outside wall smoking as he watched the privates of his troop find their families and suddenly the wind was knocked from you.
“Simon,” you called out to him and he turned to face you.
That instant connection of your eyes felt like a shock from a live wire; Simon could feel the electricity run through his veins and tingle its way up his spine until the first prickles of sweat dotted across his body as his cigarette slipped from his fingers. It felt like he couldn’t breathe and the closer you got the worse it became; you knew what you were doing wearing that pretty little dress.
Fuck did he want to take a bite of those thick thighs he could see just under the hem that popped out every time you took a step and if his hands didn’t get their fill of your breast spilling out of his grip soon, he might just keel over and die. You were more than tempting, you were a feast sent to make him completely lose his goddamn mind.
His entire body was sent into shock as that ache that he had tried to keep from ripping him apart all day as he waited for your arrival overtook him until his balls pulsed and he had to adjust himself or get caught sporting a stiffy that would instantly tent the crotch of his pants and make it even more painfully obvious to any curious eyes just how gone he fucking was.
Coming to a stop you stood before him, your stomach doing back flips as you struggled to form words that weren’t just pleas for him to just rip the waistband of his pants down and take you right then.
“Hey you,” you said through unsteady breaths, trying to keep calm. “Long time no see, huh?”
Simon nodded. “Too fuckin’ long sweetheart. Ya look...” he had to clear his throat, “incredible.” He had to keep it short, there were still too many people about and even his words would cause him to lose composure.
“Well, it is a special occasion after all,” you chuckled. “Got to remind you what you leave behind every time you go.”
The need to take your hand and give it squeeze, that customary greeting that you both did when in public, made him hesitate. If he touched you right now, any bare part that met skin with skin, he may not be able to stop, not once those weathered and brutish fingers got their fill of all that sweet softness. There as still a little time left that he had to be there and the agony was already eating away at him.
“Believe me, I fuckin’ know,” he said as he shot you a look; I’ve been in hell waitin’ to get back to it, it whispered to you.
Taking a few calming breaths, he risked lacing his broad fingers in between the empty spaces in your own. Simon could feel the rapid thump, thump, thump, of your pulse against his palm; good, you were just as excited for this reunion as he was.
Somehow that made it a bit easier, knowing that the feeling was mutual.
“Can we go?” you asked eagerly, hopeful that you were closer to the end of your joint suffering sooner rather than later.
Simon stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. “Gotta be here just a bit longer,” he muttered dejectedly under his breath. “God, I want ya so bad I can’t see straight.”
You squeezed his hand back. “It’ll go fast,” you assured. “And…I mean… no one’s looking this way if you wanted to touch me a little more. Maybe you’ll find something you’ll like.”
It was dangerous, but he took a chance with even more touch as he released your hand and loosely wrapped his arm around your waist, bring you in to him until your hips were touching. You were warm against him, warmer than the day would suggest, and the curve of your hip that he ran his fingers over delicately to retrace the lines he had dreamed about felt even better than he remembered.
Silently you peaked over at his face, watching as his head faced firmly forward to watch for any prying eyes, but it was clear he hadn’t noticed it yet. Not wanting to spoil the surprise, you kept quiet; he’d figure it out eventually. Those exploring fingers were beginning to stray more towards the back of you to the small dip at the base of your spine.
…and then lower still…
That’s when you felt it; he risked a lingering stroke over the contour of your ass when he noticed it. Where was that distinct seam of your panty line? He had grabbed your backside so many times over the course of your relationship that he knew the feeling of what should have been there. Quickly he ran his hand over the area again and still the same, there was nothing. Christ, you’d really prepared for today, hadn’t you?
Good fuckin’ girl.
His chest began to grow tight with his quickened breathing… along with that engorged appendage down below. He was in fucking trouble now; would he even be able to make it to the car at this point? The moan that desperately tried to escape through his throat he swallowed down, but who knows how long it would stay.
He was in the thick of it now.
Simon leaned down to rest his face against the side of your head, his warm breath still able to be felt against your ear even through the mask. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, no panties?” he whispered intrigued. “Christ, how the fuck am I supposed to hang on now?”
You smirked, trying to pick even though you were falling apart at the seams, a wetness gathering between your thighs as you pressed them together. “You complaining? Cause I can head back home and put some on real quick if you want.”
A harsh squeeze along the underside of your ass cheek made you gasp before he removed his hand and gave you your answer. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he warned, a playfully lilt to his tone. “That sweet little pussy is about to be filled and I don’t wanna waste a goddamn second havin’ to rip those fuckin’ things off ya.”
Dear God he was about to fuckin’ explode, say screw it and pin you up against the nearest wall right in front of the entire goddamn squad to plow into your tight, wet cunt with months worth of unrequited need that had built up to this monster of desire churning away inside of him. His teeth bit at the skin of his lower lip, his fists clenching and unclenching as he failed to calm himself while he again checked the time.
The moment that those amber eyes watched the second hand on his watch hit and the minutes change to the millisecond he could be released, his oversized mitt wrapped around your wrist, securing it in his harsh grasp, and quickly he began making his way to your car with you being dragged alongside.
“Where the hell are ya parked?” he questioned in a huff, that gruff voice nothing more than a growl, and you pointed towards the back of the lot in the corner.
You could barely keep up with his intense pace, nearly tripping over your own feet several times to match his long strides. It didn’t help that your heart was pounding furiously, nearly beating out of your chest the closer you got to being in a tight, secluded spot with him; could you even make it back to his apartment?
All signs were pointing to not a fucking chance.
Simon only released you so that you could both get inside, separating at the tail of the vehicle with you headed towards the driver side and him the other. The slam from the car door rung through the interior of the vehicle and before you could even insert the key into the ignition, Simon had moved in silent as a specter to place his large palm against the side of your cheek. The endless ache he had endured over the past months apart had been unbearable as you both edged each other to the brink of insanity and now that he was so close to you again it felt like he was in a dream.
The tension that suddenly filled the car was overwhelmingly electric as Simon closed what little distance there still sat between you both, his hand moving to the back of your head. Those bulky, calloused fingers that had missed having any part of you against them laced themselves through your hair with harsh abandon, pulling your face closer.
He held your head steady and pointedly at his face so that you had to stare into his intense, unwavering gaze; it made your skin tingle with anticipation of what was on the horizon and barreling down fast. Those sparkling brown eyes drew you in to hold your own captive as he drug his thick thumb across the length of your bottom lip as if to test that all this was actually real. His entire hand palmed the back of your head which left you completely at his mercy, not that you were complaining.
After all, you needed him just as badly.
Without warning he wrenched the bottom hem of his balaclava up over the top of his head and off his face before his mouth crashed violently against your own, hungry and greedy to steal kiss after fiery kiss from those soft, supple lips he had been eyeing with a burning desire to ruin since the minute he saw you again. Desperately his tongue parted your lips as he plunged it inside your mouth to reclaim it.
God it felt euphoric to finally be given the very thing you had been aching for for months, feeling as if your body had pined for his for an eternity, as it was finally released from it’s torture. And by the way his tongue was nearly shoved down the back of your throat you knew Simon felt that same kind of relief and it only spurred him on further.
“Fuck,” he groaned against your parted lips, nothing but hot, sticky breath being shared. “Ugh…fuck, baby, I’ve missed you so goddamn much I thought I was gonna fuckin’ die before I could feel ya again.”
Crawling over the small console in the center between the car seats, Simon shoved his body weight into you, making your smaller frame slam against the driver-side door. The raised panelling along the inside dug roughly into the muscles of your back as the backside of your head was shoved harshly into the glass of the window. There was no pause in his assault of your mouth until your lips began to burn from the constant contact and yet even the pain still felt like heaven.
He tasted so strongly of tobacco from the chain of cigarettes he must have smoked to calm his nerves until you arrived, but even through the distinct flavor you still drank every last drop of him down like you would cease to function without him.
Those thick digits of his free hand eagerly pawed at your supple thighs until he was able to divide them so that his hand could slip in between. There was a damp heat gathered near your unclothed sex and it only made him more wild to feel it. His palm cupped around your entire mound and you whimpered directly into his mouth.
“Fuck,” he hissed one of the only words he could recall in that moment as the damp heat filled his palm. “All for me?”
Words, what the hell were they again? You couldn’t remember how speech worked as you were far too busy try to simply breathe through the conquering of your body by him. All you could do was mewl like a kitten as he massaged the petals of your cunt before taking his middle finger and slipping it between them. Your back arched in a jolt as he ran one finger along the length of your cunt, mouth falling agape as Simon gathered as much of your juices on his finger as he could.
Even this small amount of contact already had you dripping and coming apart at the seams; it had been so long since you had felt that familiar touch and pressure against your clit, the one that only he could provide.
Simon couldn’t help himself once he got his first real feel again of how soft and slick you were, goddamn it had been too long that he’d only been able to play with himself, and greedily he drew upon your clit in concise circles with the pad of his rough finger. There was a second where he tried to remain calm, to take his time drawing out your pleasure as he would normally do, but as your back arched and your breathy music filled the silence of the car, he could not hold off from unleashing weeks of pent up need onto you.
Removing his lips from your own, he moved down to the soft skin of your neck with teeth ready to leave the flesh marked with his seal. It burned him alive with desire at the thought that he would be able to see your pretty skin marred by him, that everyone who came in to contact with you in the coming days after today would see it too.
You could not stop the way your body writhed and squirmed as his finger collected a friend to join it and spread your entrance open so they could both slide inside. The heightened tension of the moment with the man you had yearned for only made you more sensitive and the way his fingers filled your tight, aching hole after it had been left empty for too long thrilled you. As natural as breathing, your hips ground down on his fingers, using them as your own living dildo.
God, he wanted nothing more than for you to ride his cock as well as you rode his fingers just now and send him straight to hell. Shit, he couldn’t catch his breath, his need was just too much. “That’s it. Use me; make my fingers yours.”
Both of your hands moved to behind your head and onto the window; you needed more leverage to ground onto him harder, as hard as you could. Nothing compared to him, not your own fingers, not a toy; you could not stop yourself. You could feel the condensation already gathering on the glass as you moved and you had to wipe it away so that you could get better purchase on the surface so you wouldn’t slide.
There was nothing that was going to ruin this.
“Oh god, baby,” you squeaked out as that overwhelming deep warmth of your release gathered in your abdomen.
The corners of his mouth upturned against your neck at the sound of you falling apart because of him. Images conquered in his mind about your moans and cries reaching outside the car so that anyone who walked by would hear them before they caught a glimpse of the show. Why wouldn’t he want to show you off like this? You looked so fucking beautiful falling apart to his ferocity.
Just the way your muscles strained and your cries became more pathetic, Simon knew you were close. “Are ya gonna come for me already, pretty girl?” his gruff voice purred against your collar bone. “Come on then, give it to me. Clench down on my fingers. Let me feel it.”
Pumping his fingers in and out of you, keeping the pace as steady as he could, he felt those velvety walls flutter around his digits as he rocked his upper body with you to simulate the movements he’d soon be doing when he was really inside you. The air was so thick with moisture it almost felt hard to breathe right, the windows filmed with the stuff as with a few more strokes at your clit you came hard and fast, shaking as he continued to work you until ever single ounce of your orgasm had been spent.
Simon was gone then, replaced by a feral beast fueled by his ability to make you come… and wanting to do it again, but this time with his cock.
He pulled those thick fingers out of you, glistening with the wetness of your cum and brought them to his lips. You watched wide eyed as he stuck them in his mouth and licked them good and clean; goddamn you tasted just as delicious as he remembered. Could you blame the man? You had kept him starving since your video popped up on his phone and he had to get a bit of it all.
“I need more of ya,” he groaned in whispers as he leaned back into you, desperate hands pawing at your breast still sadly inside your dress as he kissed you again, now with the taste of you on his breath.
“We need to move, someone’s bound to come see what all the noise is about,” you said, able to think a little more clearly now that you had come once, but Simon was still gone and there was only one thing that would bring him back.
“Don’t care, can’t wait. Get in the back. Now.”
The primal growl in his gruff voice was enough to make you comply without another word; once was not enough anyway, not after how you had suffered. You needed to be filled with more than his fingers. With a nod you immediately began climbing over the cushions towards the backseat of the car as he got out and moved into the back with you. You leaned back into the front long enough to shove the seats forward all the way to give you more space.
Simon needed room to work.
Scooting over, he planted himself directly in the middle of the back seat and pulled you over top of his lap to straddle him, shins digging into the edge of the cushion. Shit, he as so hard you couldn’t properly sit over top of him without leaving a wet spot right where his cock tented the fabric.
Clothes could be washed, as if he would care at all if anything got on him right now. Pushing your hips down, he made you grind your overstimulated clit hard on that throbbing shaft and you mewled into his face. A devilish grin spread from ear to ear as he rocked your hips to dry hump him.
“Someone ‘ere begged to be bred and that’s what she’s gonna fuckin’ get,” he hissed, sucking in the air harshly between his teeth at the feeling of you on top of him. “Can’t take it back now, luv. I have been fuckin’ dreamin’ of doin’ this, ever since you sent me that goddamn video and I ‘eard you say those sweet fuckin’ words. Been fuckin’ gnawin’ at the bit to stuff you full.”
Taking both of his hands, he pulled at the low neckline of your dress until your breasts came spilling out of the top. Angling his face in, he placed his nose right between the two to suffocate himself within them. There was a hint of your perfume still lingering there, that scent he had bought you for your birthday last year, the one that occasionally lingered on his clothes and had done for the first couple weeks of his mission.
The flesh was so enticing that he sucked in the supple top of one breast before he bit down, not enough to break the skin, but enough that it would definitely leave a nice red outline of his teeth; more signaturea that you could both admire.
“Simon,” you moaned his name.
Your own hands roamed up under his shirt, pushing the fabric up until you reached his chest and you could run your hands over the sparse bit of hair you adored; it would be so nice to get to nuzzle against it again. As your fingers ran between his pectorals you could feel the moment his breath hitched.
“Please, Simon,” you begged. “I need it.”
Those breasts he would get back to later, your words brought him back and his need to fuck you senseless slammed into him full force.
Rushed, he laid you back over the console between the seats as he sat up and forward, undoing his belt before ripping his pants down enough that he could pull his cock out of his boxers. The angle was slightly awkward, but as he aligned the leaking head of his phallus with your entrance and gave that first thrust to fully enter you, everything else fell away.
“Oh fuck…fuck… oh fuck,” that deep agonized whimper echoed through the car as Simon’s hands bore down his grip on the top of the seat cushions. “Goddammit, luv…s-shit…ah…”
Nothing, absolutely nothing in this fucking world could ever compare to the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: how silky and warm and tight it was. There was no way with his limited brain function could he accurately describe how mind-numblingly amazing it was to be inside you again. Those restless nights where he just couldn’t seem to stay satisfied, the pictures and video that made it worse, the dreams that woke him to stained boxers, it was all undone in that moment as your soft walls held him snugly.
Your head flew back over the lip of the console as he filled you completely to the hilt, stretching you out to your limit. It was almost too much after so much time apart, but goddamn was it exactly as you had wanted. You swallowed the saliva gathering in your mouth, wanting to say the words you had first brought to life in your video, but in person this time.
“Breed me, please Simon. I need you to fucking breed me.”
Never had a more beautiful sentence ever been spoken to him in all his years than to hear your desperate and depraved voice telling him to claim you in the most ultimate way; it was even more beautiful in person than it was that first time he heard it. His fingernails nearly tore holes in the seat as gripped with all this strength to stop himself from coming too fast from all the excitement.
The car began to shake forward and back as Simon snapped his hips into you with a feverish intensity. Even within the first few minutes he was already pussy drunk, slamming into you with a feral roughness that left his rhythm scattered for a bit as his brain only had one objective now: to come.
Your legs were absolutely burning and shaking from the intensity as you had to spread them wide so that he could fit in between, but it didn’t matter; you would have done anything to have him reclaim your cunt as his own again.
The scent of sex was heavy in the air of that enclosed space, the wet slapping sounds of two bodies connecting in that most erotic way keeping the beat.
Yet there was still one more thing he wanted, one more thing that he had been daydreaming about all by his lonesome. Even in this cramped space, he was determined to make it happen- for both of you. His hands were on your legs and before you knew what was happening, he had pulled out of you so that he could situate your calves up on his broad shoulders.
As he thrust back in, the new position helped him reach even deeper until he completely bottomed out. Goddamn it was like you could feel him in your stomach, so full with him that you were completely one being.
“F-fuck…” you stammered out the cry, choking on your words as you writhed uncontrollably. It was almost too much.
“There ya go baby,” he groaned as he started rocking his hips again, unable to contain himself at this consuming euphoria. “Gotta make good on my fuckin’ promise.”
He took you even rougher now, gripping into your hips hard enough to leave purple fingerprints where his hands rested as he pounded into you furiously, your body contorted and at his mercy. The windows of the car were completely fogged over now, the condensation not letting any clear visuals in or out as the axel squeaked with the force of Simon’s thrusts. The console you were still laid on scraped across your back to make it burn as your body was rocked, but the angle was so perfect that the stimulation made your brain blank to anything that wasn’t your second release creeping up on you quick.
There were no more words that could be said as you both devolved into beings hell bent on pleasure alone, just the depraved sounds of grunting and moans filling up the interior to capacity; that growing warmth in your belly nearly reaching its peak
Goddammit, he was closer than he thought due to all the pent up desire he'd been unable to sait for weeks, but he had to be sure you were almost there again too. "Are ya close?" he asked as more of a plea than a question, hips snapping desperately with a shudder as he was losing the battle to his orgasm.
"Yes," you groaned back. "Don't stop, please."
He closed his eyes tight, working to stay from blowing until he felt your thighs twitch and clamp down around him, keeping him locked in. A few more sloppy thrusts slipping through the cum covering your cunt, a few more bumps against your swollen clit, and that was it. The warmth shot through your limbs, coursing like electricity as you came once more.
"Yes, yes, yes!" you cried out and finally he let go and fuck did he come with a roar that stung your ears.
Simon's body convulsed, the muscles in his abdomen tensing and straining as he released weeks and weeks of need. You took it all riding out your orgasms in tandem until you both lay still a moment, simply breathing after such an explosive ending.
He moved back into the seat exhausted, pulling your body along with him as you stayed connected. Lightly he pushed up your dress to press his raw lips to your stomach to kiss down the lower half of your body. Each embrace was another silent praise he gave while he took deep breaths through the high of his ecstasy until his rapidly pounding slowed and he could final re-wet his dry mouth to speak.
“Fuck, I think we both needed that one,” he said against your skin, his warm breath wafting over the fine spread of moisture along your torso, making you tingle as he kept his cock buried inside. “Ya did so good for me sweetheart.”
You reached a hand out to him and he helped you to sit up and into his lap. Wrapping your arm around his neck you pulled him into a deep kiss, letting your mouths linger together with eyes closed for a few moments as you both finished coming down.
“I’m glad your back,” you whispered as your lips parted.
He cupped your cheek with his palm, staring back into your eyes as he smiled. “I’m glad to be back too,” he returned. "And I'm gonna make sure that I make up for all that lost time."
Tag list: @sillylittlereader @babygirl-riley @jarfullofjizz @jamieelol
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house-of-daena · 7 months
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IMAGINE...
[CONTENTS: nsfw, robotic anatomy, f/cking robots but with no penetration, just messing with his circuits, wires, screws, whatever (im not a mechanic, idk half i said here), sub dottore segment (omega), gn.mechanic.reader (co-created the segments)]
゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤"sit still, omega." you warn him, a serious lilt in your voice as you move your hands carefully into his open chest cavity, wires, and bits of his intricate parts all laid onto the metal surface of the table he was currently sitting on. "you wouldn't want me to mess up, right?"
and although your delicate hands, now covered in black soot that will be difficult to clean off, a smile adorned your lips, eyes bright and full of mischief. "this is the 3rd time you've visited my office, you know?"
omega merely scoffed, turning his face away from your teasing gaze. his cheeks, despite it being a cool surface composed of metal, were dusted with muted shades of reds and pinks, that spread down to his neck, and to his shoulders. it contradicted his dismissive attitude, and he cursed at the useless feature implemented in his system.
"awww, flustered now, are we?" you cooed, lips brushing against the edge of the panel that's usually covered by his mask. your hot breath fanned against his skin, and though he was a machine, he shivered at the feeling, biting his bottom lip as you pressed a kiss onto his star-shaped sensors. you chuckled when it glowed a brilliant red, his pale skin, now flushed, as he grits his teeth in anticipation. "you're so adorable, omega, so hot and bothered just with some words."
you hear a faint 'click' inside his titanium rib cage, where his core and other frail components lie. curiously, you pull back to see what activated in his system, only to break into a big, shit-eating grin to see his automatic internal cooling system begin to gleam blue. "oh my, don't go all shy on me! not after coming in here inside my workshop~"
"j-just get it done," omega finally finds it in himself to speak, his voice breaking easily as his trembling hands grip your shoulders, holding himself back on wrapping his legs around your waist. "i have important matters to attend to, and prime won't be happy if i report late— a-aAHN!"
he was cut off by his own moan, writhing and panting at the feeling of your hands rubbing and fondling his metallic spine, aiming for the sensitive spots of his system, thumbing between the joints of his fragile parts. omega couldn't help but arch his back and whimper your name out loud when you've begun tugging on his complicated wiring. you relished at how his bottom lip shook, his body instinctively mimicking organic reactions when it comes to pleasure, his shoulders rose and fell as he pants at each tantalizing touch.
you shook your head as you clicked your tongue, plunging your arms deeper into his chest, making him gasp and choke on a moan, fingers brushing against his convoluted circuits. "this doesn't usually happen, you know?" humming, you began to unscrew a bolt to access an even more complex section of his body, though you did it agonizingly slow, making sure omega could feel each twist and turn of your tool. "unless someone else messed with your circuits… but that's impossible. each segment has a different screw, nut, and bolt, all custom-made and unique, courtesy to me, so that only prime and i could have access to your very fragile and very complicated machinery."
before omega could even make an excuse, trying to save himself from this utter embarrassment, he throws his head back and almost falls off the table as his body is suddenly electrified with intense shocks of pleasure, his system overwhelmed as he felt sparks coursing through his wirings. drool seeped at the corner of his lips, he keens when your hands didn't relent on reattaching wires back to their proper place, and tweaking the numerous gears inside of him.
he couldn't stop shaking, hands pawing at your shoulders as he tries to keep still, lest he wants you to fuck up his system even more… although the thought made his fans whir faster, to have your hands touch every single intricate piece of his metallic body, your hands warm to the touch and expertly assaulting his every weak spot he had. he was at the verge of an overload, senses making him lightheaded.
"this is a very calculated error, so much so that only a person or a machine with high intelligence can pull it off, rather than it being due to the humid air of sumeru." omega lets out a cry when you tightened a screw, making him curl his toes and fall back onto the table, back so beautifully arched against the metal surface and rattling his mechanical parts. "you know very well that i built you more resilient than that, darling~"
omega swallowed down his moans, trying to catch his breath as he glares unto your eyes, a weak scowl on his trembling lips. "p-perhaps the mechanic lacks the utter skill to—h-hahnn! t...to even complete proper maintenance o-of their own creation... f-fuck!" he argues in between his whorish moans, cursing and stumbling over his words, "l-leading to this 'calculated error', as you've said..." you knew if he had eyes, he'd shed tears.
you laughed at his poor attempt of an excuse, especially when he's been letting out perfect mimicry of hiccups and sobs, pretty sensors flashing red, fingers digging rather painfully against your biceps as his joints creaked. "oh darling, you and the other segments are all the same," you tease, leaning towards him and pressed kisses on his neck, all the way up to his jawline, paying attention to how his body reacted to everything you do to him. "knocking on my office door, saying that they're having calibration errors, or they need an early tune-up, begging me to fix them."
omega felt like he was perpetually on edge, the pure ecstasy driving his system into a frenzy, his body struggling to cool down his processor. he couldn't even cum if he wanted to; you didn't build him like that. it was maddening—each caress made him mewl how a slut would, each tug of his wiring made him quiver weakly beneath you, the desire to be absolutely ravished by you growing stronger at each passing second.
"are you all so jealous that i can fuck your very own creator so good that he's crying my name all night long, but can't do the same to you?" you purr into his ear, and he bucks his hips upwards, taut against yours as he whines in desperation, "so you'd mess up your insides so i can fix them? hoping for me to touch you in ways only i know that will make you feel good?"
and he nods, tongue lolling out between his lips, looking absolutely wrecked. again, you laughed mockingly at his pitiful display. you kiss him all over his face, and he cries, begging you to be gentle with his insides, that he can't take anymore. he's so sensitive that he could feel it through his mechanical bones, the electric currents flowing through his body giving you small shocks whenever you touch him, and his system making loud beeping sounds, indicating that he was overloading.
but you found it too amusing, for what was supposed to be an unfeeling robot, melting into putty in your hands as you stroke, palm, pull, knead his pieces to the point he's seeing stars. "if only i had known you segments were all pathetic whores for me, then we should've gone for a more organic approach..."
"although," your hands paused, and omega took big gulps of air, his back somehow began to ache for how long he's had it arched in burning bliss, his sensors focused on you, body twitching. "i could stimulate a feature that could mimic a human orgasm..." omega visibly lights up, gripping onto the sleeves of your shirt as raspy pleads slip from his lips, but you shush him, smiling sickeningly sweet for reassurance. and yet, omega could feel regret creeping up his circuits in the dark and wicked intent behind your eyes.
"alright... it will take a few hours," your hands began to move again, and omega screamed, voice caught in his throat as you pressed a button that made him extra sensitive to stimulation, head clanging against the metal table. he could feel his inside buzz with delight, every single command prime had given him was left forgotten, and he could only think about your hands, tinkering away on his engine.
"try to keep your system stable until i finish, okay~?"
a/n - haiiii @brenbosan this is for u... i've had this thought for a while, saw ur post and my brain just. buzzed,, this was so fun to write hehe,, okay i will answer u guys asks now 🥹🥹
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helluvapoison · 2 months
Note
hey! saw your blog n thought u were like super fuckin cool- so yk can I request a vox x wife!teader and vox accidentally forget their anniversary? it's fine if jot, have a good day/night!!
Vox x Reader
Sitting in Hell’s Kitchen, the finest restaurant of Pride Ring, staring at an empty chair across from you, you decide to find out for yourself just where the fuck your husband is today of all days
• Vox was zipping through cables and wires all over the house to look for you. He checked your favorite spots first but, to his chagrin, you weren’t there
• The money making, signature smile he always wore began slipping on one side when his phone buzzed to life, your icon taking over his screen
• “Darling! I just got home,” Irritation had his voice glitching, “Where are you?”
• “Hm. Late night?” You asked, pettily avoiding the question
• “I-? Yeah, yes,” He sighed, slipping back into work mode for a minute, “Back to back meetings and I had to reshoot yesterday's episode because—“ Minute over, “Wait, that doesn’t matter! What matters is I wanted to come home to my darling partner and you’re nowhere to be found! Where are you!?”
• “Oh me? I went out for a bite to eat. An hour ago. There should be a notification somewhere in your planner, why don’t you check it.”
• Vox huffs and rolls his eyes. He pulls the phone away from his face and quickly swipes through today’s agenda. Anything regarding you is always his top priority—
• x/xx/xxxx: congratulations! today is your anniversary! you have a reservation at 8pm!
• “Fuck.”
• “Mhm.”
• Your phone goes silent. Only half of a second passes before your husband materializes from the wires at the front desk. The panicked expression on his screen is almost enough to satisfy the tornado of emotions inside you. Of course he recognizes there’s people around and there’s an image to project so he gathers himself all too quickly
• His steps over are hurried and clumsy. He presses a kiss to your cheek that buzzes softly on your skin as he sits down, taking your hands into his own in case you decide to leave. Or throw your wine at him. Or both. “Happy Anniversary, darling!”
• Your brow quirks, unimpressed and irate
• “I know it seems like I did, but I didn’t forget. Look I planned this dinner—“
• “That you were late to.”
• “And I have your present right here! Look! I made it months ago just for this.”
• A part of you expects a new phone or watch that hasn’t hit the market yet. Instead Vox pulls out a thin screen from behind his back (Somehow. You’ve learned not to question how he does that) and forces it into your hands
• It scanned your fingerprints the minute you touched it and bloomed to life. For a few seconds it showed you and Vox closer to when you first met, slowly and silently moving as you both laughed. Then it faded and brought a new image of when Vox poured coffee in Val’s lap because he was staring at you. You couldn’t help but snort at that one despite trying very hard not
• “It’s an electronic picture frame,” Vox explained excitedly, “Only this one scans and recognizes your favorite memories. I, uh, already put mine in there for you.” His eyes dart away for a moment, a light blush making his screen glow slightly, “Don’t let anyone else see this.”
• You’re really torn now and he can clearly see it. As a businessman he wants to go in for the final kill, but as your husband he wants to reassure you
• “I didn’t forget, not really. I knew I was missing something all day. I’ll clear my calendar next year— or tomorrow! We can redo the whole day just you and me!”
• You purse your lips together and tilt your head at him with narrowed eyes. Something you did right before you forgave him. “No work at all? No taking calls from Val or Vel? Not even watching yourself on tv?”
• “Let me take care of everything! No one will bother us for an entire 24 hours. Just me and you, my dear. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
• You give him a final skeptical look before your gaze drops to the picture frame with significantly more fondness. You inevitably give in with a sigh, “Fine.”
• Vox is standing up and bringing you with him, his claw on your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant, “Excellent! You won’t regret it baby, I’ll make it our best anniversary yet.”
• To the host at the front his smile doesn’t waver but his voice drops to an octave that leaves no room for arguments, “We’ll be back here tomorrow, same time but we’ll take the table by the window instead. You can put that under Vox. Thanks.”
• “Vox, what are you doing!?“ You whisper loudly in disbelief
• He doesn’t stop, continuing to push you out and onto the sidewalk where a VoxTech limo already awaits. Suddenly his hands are on your shoulders. His eyes meet yours and they’re devoid of the facade he puts on for everyone else
• “When something goes wrong at VoxTech, I have to scrap the plans and start all over to get it right. And I want to do this right for you. I’m going to fix everything, my dear. One hour and I’ll meet you back home with all your favorites.” Despite the tv-ready tone, Vox’s words are coated in sincerity that has you inclined to believe him
• You allow him to help you into the limo, “I don’t need it perfect, y’know. I just need you there.”
• “And I will be! You’ll get both; myself and perfection. Don’t I always say you deserve it all?” Vox kisses the back of your hand before closing the door. He stands there with a smile and waves until you’re out of sight
• He keeps his word, he’s at home with you 45 minutes later. He brings dinner, dessert and wine, all your favorites, and a few extra presents
• The 24 workless hours begin as soon as he walks through the door. He turns off his phone and puts himself on “do not disturb”
• All he needs is you and you’re right here. Happily sitting in his lap while he feeds you cake, your favorite movie in the background. The sound of your laughter or wine glasses clinking together is a far better sound than his ringtone
• (He’ll need a new assistant when he returns to work… and someone to repair that window on the 13th floor. That’s probably why he has 237 notifications from Velvette and Valentino when he turns his phone on after your anniversary do-over)
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ OMG YOU’RE SO SWEET!!!! please enjoy!
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trashmouth-richie · 8 days
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞
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꧁ eddie x female reader
a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain
listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)
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summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.
triggers: 18+ smut
author’s note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.
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The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.
His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.
The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.
If you would have looked back at him you’d have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadn’t been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the window— he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.
Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.
The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.
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Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.
He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.
The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.
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Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you haven’t seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didn’t mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didn’t have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.
Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.
Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.
Please don’t stop, please please.
The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you weren’t interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.
Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.
You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.
“Pretty hot out today… need a lift?”
The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth you’d never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.
You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and you’d be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.
“Baby don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere,” his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so he’d get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.
Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.
His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambi’s colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.
When he spoke it was clear that his intentions weren’t to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.
“Hey, do you wanna see the West with me?”
It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy you’d never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.
The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.
He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.
You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.
Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if you’d known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?
Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.
His smile didn’t fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.
He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.
Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. “What?” he chirped, a little twist to his lips, “don’t believe in stuff like that?”
This bastard clearly didn’t know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, “honey, love’s never meant much to me, but I’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.”
After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasn’t real. But hell, you’d humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?
A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, “I’m Eddie.”
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And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything he’d ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.
He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you weren’t sure about at first.
The roads were desolate, and you couldn’t imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing you’d ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.
But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.
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That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.
That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, “you uhm,” he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark, “you don’t have to worry about using that with me… I’m not that kind of guy.”
His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadn’t said, showing you that he wasn’t lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasn’t long before you whisper, “okay.”
When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples you’d ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.
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The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.
“Shit, ‘m sorry, how long did I sleep?” you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.
Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, “don’t apologize for sleeping when you’re tired,” he said, shrugging, “besides, you probably would’ve woken up if I crashed.”
A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, “where are we?”
“Still in Texas believe it or not,” he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, “I hoped we could’ve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but I’m starting to think that ain’t gonna happen.”
You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. “I can drive while you take a nap.”
“Nah,” he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, “not that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus… I need a shower.”
Taking a whore’s bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldn’t care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.
You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. “It’s really not a big deal, I promise I’m a good driver.”
The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed weren’t lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, “deodorant only lasts so long before we’ll have to ride with our heads outta the window.”
He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.
“C’mon,” he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. “We survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I would’ve done it already.”
“It’s not that,” you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, “I wasn’t walking because I wanted too…”
Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.
“Don’t worry about it,” he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasn’t a big deal that you’d be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didn’t change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, “seriously sweets, you’re doing me a favor keeping me company, ‘m not gonna make you pay for a trip you didn’t plan, okay?”
You sighed, and shook your head yes.
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The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldn’t be bothered wondering how long they’d been spinning in the warmer.
His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time you’d seen just how tall he was.
He squints in the sun and cocks his head, “bet you a dollar the carpet is orange.”
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Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.
Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.
Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.
“How’s the hotdog?” you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.
A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, “rubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.”
You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.
“Hotdogs for breakfast… don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time he’d ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.
“Stick with me, we’ll have breakfast for dinner, too,” his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.
You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. “Do I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?”
Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and that’s about all you could ask for at this point.
Eddie’s eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, “mind if I shower ‘fore I fall asleep?”
“Not at all,” you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, “take all the time you need.”
He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.
Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, “you’re not gonna run away, are you?”
You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, “think you’re stuck with me, if that’s cool with you?”
His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he won’t be long, promising to save some hot water.
Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters “cool,” to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.
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Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. “Never know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,” he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.
Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.
He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.
Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states you’d scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.
That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you haven’t talked about in years.
When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didn’t mind, he wanted to know more.
The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the table—ice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, “two eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.”
Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.
Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.
Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, “Nothing like home, huh?”
A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, “definitely not, the air is dry here.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burnt— probably microwaved— concoction, “it is, but that’s the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.”
He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadn’t noticed before and you ask, “you keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?”
A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, “in all the years I’ve been on the road, I never have, not until you,” he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, “guess I haven’t run out of luck just yet.”
You hide your own smile, itching your nose, “how long has it been?”
Eddie thinks for a minute, “well, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,” he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, “… shit,” he says with a smirk, “almost nine years now.”
He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.
But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.
“Do you ever miss it?”
He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, “Nah, I’ll go back someday, me and my girl.”
That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.
You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.
Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.
🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire @aropodcastfuck
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steddielations · 8 months
Text
Dom Steve Fic Recs
Strange as Angels (soft dom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie hasn't been able to get himself off in months, and now he's high, sweaty, and horny, thinking about the very man sitting in his room in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of tiny athletic shorts, and he thinks he might die. Steve notices. Of course, Steve fucking notices, what, with all the squirming Eddie's doing. Steve offers to help get Eddie off. As friends do. (As long as those friends are completely in love with each other.)
Like The Hero Who Never Ran (dom awakening series) by callmejude
While Steve and Dustin are searching for survivors, they're surprised to find Eddie alive, hiding out in Rick's cabin. Steve takes up the task of caring for him while staying in his trailer.
Genius Loci (dom bottom, magic steve) by @sayesayes
It’s 1986, and Steve falls in love with a boy who is leaving. It’s 1990, and Eddie comes back home. The fic where Steve is a selectively mute, homesteading, truck-driving witch with head injuries and also somehow it's canonverse.
(Don't) cream your pants (soft dom steve awakening series) by @corrodedbisexual
“Don’t know how to cream your pants, huh?” Steve asks, unable to conceal a smirk. He hears a quiet whine as Eddie seems to try and make himself disappear inside the couch. “Want me to show you how?”
Gilded (dom steve, blindfolds, ice play) by @cheshiredogao3
Steve and Eddie are looking forward to a weekend all to themselves, but it doesn’t go as planned.
Trouble Looks Good On You (wip, spanking, kink discovery) by me indelicate
It happens like a fever dream. The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that. But then, it happens again. Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.
You Make Me Feel Like I Am Whole Again (wip, dom top and dom bottom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie has never felt like his body belongs to him. It gets worse after he's nearly mauled to death, left with scars and healing wounds, a lopsided chest, and more trauma stacked on top of everything already wrong with him. Steve Harrington finds out Eddie's trans by accident after the bats, and Eddie finds out Steve's surprisingly okay with it. More than okay with it.
Bite Through These Wires (soft dom steve's strap game series 🤭) by @steves-strapcollection
“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?” Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline. “I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.
Relax (Lay it Back) (soft dom yoga instructor steve) by @wynnyfryd
Five times yoga instructor Steve teaches Eddie how to chill the fuck out, and the one time he learns his lesson.
Melt Me On Your Tongue (soft dom, bathing) by me indelicate
“This okay?” “Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.” “… you’re crying, Eds.” Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob. “No one’s ever done this to me before.” He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really. Eddie's never had a Steve before.
Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight) (pleasure dom steve, virgin eddie) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Eddie has never been kissed. Steve apparently would very much like to volunteer to fix this.
Getting Lost in the Dark is My Favorite Part (wip, masochist virgin eddie, kink discovery) by queerontilmorning
After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.
You're a Sweet Shot of Kerosene (When I Threw it Back, it Poisoned Me) (wip, mob boss steve) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Whatever fucked up shit Eddie’s father had inadvertently roped him into simply by being what he was — a shit-stain excuse for a sperm donor who preferred sticking a needle in his arm to taking care of his family — well, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about to be him that pays that price. And maybe Eddie’s delirious, because by the time it’s apparently his turn and they’re dragging him down some hallway (and yeah, it’s not like Eddie’s not trying to put up a fight, but it feels almost performative at this point considering he’s pretty much hogtied here), the only real thought he has when they deposit him on yet another cold, wet tile floor is this: Uncle Wayne is gonna be so pissed at me if I get shot in the head tonight.
closer to you (soft dom steve) by @natesfwl
“C’mon baby, where's my little rockstar?” Steve spanks him, groans when he feels Eddie tense up around him from the impact, “Perform for me.” “You let me penetrate you” Eddie stutters out the line as he lifts himself up with his knees. “There you go,” Steve whispers, watching as Eddie fights to keep his eyes locked onto Steve’s when he sinks back down. or the really self-indulgent fic of steddie fucking to the song closer by NIN.
Destroy The Silence (drummer steve) by @artaxlivs
Steve becomes the drummer for Corroded Coffin and Eddie can't handle his thirst
Trouble and Temptation (series wip, businessman dilf steve) by @heartharps
“Come on, Harrington. I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly.” When Steve looked up, he was glaring, as stern and serious as ever. “Eddie, let me remind you that as far as I'm concerned, nothing has ever happened between us other than of a professional nature.”
Sting, and Other Brainworms (series with switching) by @riality-check
“Do you need to go down, baby?” Eddie gets like this, sometimes. Stuck between overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Steve watches until he remembers that they have a way to fix this. Eddie calls it a hard reset. Steve calls it fucking him until he can’t see straight.
Edification (sadist steve) by aristal
“Alright Munson.” She bares her teeth and grins like a wolf. “Tell the class: what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” A slow smile creeps into his features, and his dark eyes flash. “Oh, you’re asking the good questions, Wheeler.” He takes another long pull of his joint, dragging the moment out for dramatic effect. Steve doesn’t care. He wants to know the answer. He needs to know. Eventually, Eddie blows out the smoke, eyes a little hazy as he grins at the ceiling. “I’ve always liked the idea of being slapped around and choked in someone’s car.”
In My Boxers, Half Stoned (dom bottom Steve) by eddywow
"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"
Insatiable (public, skirts, cages) by @cheshiredogao3
When their club ritual is rudely interrupted, Steve and Eddie make a point of proving their bond—rather publicly.
Done Deal (series with switching) by @morningberriesao3
Steve Harrington doesn't have any money with him, so he offers to pay Eddie Munson some other way.
Lovebite (sub vampire eddie) by hellcore
It shouldn’t feel so good, being tasted.
* The next few don't have the tag but in my opinion they have dom Steve vibes and I want to include them here (:
Cyclical (wip, time loop fic, rimming, switching, lots of smut with plot) by @cuips-not-cute
steve keeps finding himself back in the boathouse where everything started, wrapped up in the arms of a boy who can’t stop dying. he's desperate to rewrite the timeline, trying everything he can think of to fix it. including falling in love.
Dirty Words by @morningberriesao3
Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Memorize My Number, That's Why I Got A Phone (phone sex) by queerontilmorning
while on tour with Corroded Coffin, Eddie makes an important phone call to Steve.
My Right Hand Man (spanking, kink discovery) by @entanglednow
In which movie night takes an unexpected turn, and it's surprisingly easy to just let it happen.
Shot Right Through (pierced eddie) by @entanglednow
Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.
Pleased To Meet You (demon steve) by midnightdrive
Eddie accidentally summons a demon who is bound to fulfill his every wish. He, somehow, gets more than he had bargained for.
1K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
the compound part one
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words: 2k
warnings: alien apocalypse au!, violence, reader gets injured, hunger/starvation, mentions of death
part one / part two
you take a deep breath as your eyes focus on the pile of supplies. you know it's bait. you know it's purposely set up near the border of the compound to entice thieves, that someone elses eyes are likely on it right now.
but you have no choice. your stomach growls. you can see canned food. it's been so long since you had something from before. you've resorted to killing wild animals and gathering as much edible berries and plants as you can find, but even those are hard to come by. everything is hard to come by.
you look at the fence separating you. it's chain link, easy enough to climb. there's barbed wire placed on the top, fashioned together with zip ties, but plenty of space for you to fit between.
your eyes adjust as darkness falls, glad your hiding spot is shielding you from most of the wind. now that winter is rolling through the north carolina woods, you need to come up with a new plan. whether it's moving south or finding others to survive with that you trust enough to not kill you for using their resources or leaving you behind as alien bait.
a cloud passes over the moon, sending the world into even further darkness. you don't allow yourself time to second guess, shooting forward as fast as your legs can carry you, praying that your speed makes up for the sound as you scurry over the fence.
you groan when in your haste you cut your leg on the barbed wire, but you have no time to stop and see if the gash is deep.
you make it to the stack of supplies seemingly without notice, but the second your hands touch the box of canned food, a floodlight illuminates the yard of the compound.
“shit.” you allow yourself to mutter a curse word, picking up the small box and tucking it under your arm as you head towards the fence, knowing the other side means safety. 
“stop!” someone shouts from behind as you begin to climb, moving slower now that you have less mobility of one arm.
you let out a scream when someone grabs your leg, you try to kick them away, but then your other foot is grabbed, being pulled down by compound men. you struggle the best you can, even dropping your precious cans of much needed food in hope it hits one of them, but your hands can only hang on for so long before you succumb to their pulling, falling backwards with a thump, head hitting the ground and darkness enveloping you.
--
your head pounds as you try to blink your eyes open before realizing that they're covered by a blindfold. 
what a shitty way to go out, you think to yourself. blindfolded and gagged by compound men. at the end of the world, you don't meet your end in an aliens bite but rather from other humans.
it makes you question if along with the apocalypse people lost their humanity, or if they're just finally able to show their true colors without the expectations of society.
you slowly become more aware of your body. your hands are restricted behind your back to some kind of chair. your fingers reach out to touch the rope and then the chair, sighing when it's cold and smooth. wood you could possibly break, but you have no chance with metal.
your feet aren't restricted. you try to feel around for anything, but the floor around you seems clear.
you consider tipping your chair over, but you have a feeling that would only result in more pain for you.
“you awake?” the question is asked. it's a male voice, of course. it's widely known the compound is almost completely male. only a few rare women have ever been seen behind the fence. you're not sure what their recruitment process is, but you've heard whispers that they bring impressive people in. people that try to steal from them and get caught or defend their stash when the compound men leave on their raids.
you thrash in your seat since you're not able to respond. no use delaying the inevitable. if they're going to kill you, you don't want to wait around for it to happen.
“good.” the voice says, and then all of a sudden the blindfold is tugged off your eyes. it takes you a second to adjust before you can properly look around the room, realizing you're up on a stage, auditorium seats in front of you with a few men in them, all heavily armed.
you realize quickly that the military base the compound men took over must have had some sort of stage for speeches, and that you're now center spotlight.
“she did pretty good.” one of the men in the auditorium hums from the seats as the one who took of your blindfold exits down the stairs to join them. “got to the fence. most people don't even get that far.”
you try to tune out their words, eyes sweeping from some sort of escape, or help. you've learned not to rely on human help after the aliens came, but you might not have any choice.
“yeah, but she got caught.” one man huffs out.
“shit, billy, shut up. we need more women around here.” a new man says, his eyes feeling predatory as he looks over your body, making you press your thighs tightly together. you manage to look to the side to realize there's an armed man on either side of the stage, tucked slightly into the wings, but their dark eyes on you.
“we shouldn't even be arguing.” the man who untied your blindfold says. “wait for him.”
him. the infamous leader of the compound. you've never seen him or even heard his name, but he has a reputation from the bit of gossip you've managed to pick up. cruel. not bloodthirsty or barbaric like some of the men under him, but unflinching in his standards. refusing to give out any sort of help or aid even if a mother is on her knees begging at the fence.
you've heard from some that he doesn't care, you've heard from others that it's because his men come first.
you also know every time the compound men leave on a raid, they're looking for more than just food. someone. someone that the leader lost. presumed dead, just like most of the people after the aliens came, but that doesn't stop him from looking.
your heart breaks for him despite his cruelty. you wonder if it's a son. a daughter. a sister, mother or wife.
you refuse to let your mind turn to the ones you lost. you weren't close with your parents when it happened, but your friends… your boyfriend. you shake your head, willing the thoughts to leave. no use getting emotional right at the end.
you hear footsteps, the men scattered around the first few rows moving to situate themselves, sitting a little straighter, making sure their makeshift uniforms are done properly.
the doors at the back of the auditorium open. you wait for the figure to step out of the darkness, the emerge from the shadow from the mezzanine above.
“untie her. now.” the voice rings out, so familiar it hurts as the men from the wings move quickly to undo your gag. you feel the sudden coolness of a blade against your wrist, but it slashes away at the rope.
the man is moving quicker now, your eyes widening when you realize who he is.
“rafe!” you scream, shooting up from the chair. tears are already streaming down your cheeks as you run, sprint as fast as you can across the stage, rafe also breaking into a run as you take the stairs so fast you're worried you'll fall.
“y/n!” rafe yells out as you reach each other. you're lifted into the air behind him, sobs racking your body as you press your face into his neck, legs wrapping around his hips.
“you're alive!” you can hear the disbelief in rafes voice. 
“i-i thought you were dead rafe.” you whimper into his neck, pressing kisses to his skin between the words. “i came to tanneyhill after they arrived and it was-” you can't finish your sentence. partly because the pain of having to describe what happened to tanneyhill, the home you spent so much time at. but mostly you don't finish because rafe sets you down, moving your head out from his neck to press his lips against yours.
you sigh with relief before kissing back, hands fisting in his uniform, just now realizing how bulky his clothing is, various weapons hanging from them.
“i-i love you so much.” you tell rafe, pressing your fingers against his cheeks, the plains of them still as smooth as you remember. you look into his eyes. it's the same rafe, your rafe, but at the same time he's different. clearly hardened by the apocalypse, aged quicker from the stress.
“i love you.” rafe kisses you again. “i never stopped looking for you.”
you. you're the one. not a son or a sister, but the person the compound men were looking for.
“i-i didn't know you were here.” you wish you saw rafe out on a raid, but just like everyone else in the north carolina woods, you scatter when the compound men leave their base, almost as much of a threat as the aliens are.
“otherwise you wouldn't have stole from me, huh?” rafe smirks, making you giggle. he clearly hasn't lost his sense of humor.
he pulls you close to his chest as he looks to his men. “dismissed. i will be in my chambers. no disturbances unless it's an emergency.”
the men instantly scatter. rafe waits until they all leave before turning to look at you, hands skirting down your body to your wrists. he sighs deeply when he sees the marks from the rope, red and bleeding in some places.
“let me get you cleaned up.” rafe says, and you just nod. it feels surreal to finally be back with him, your boyfriend who you could have sworn was dead. you didn't stay long in the outer banks, not with the limited resources of an island, but you looked every day for rafe to see if he somehow survived the aliens before you fled into the woods.
you feel like your eyes are still glazed over as rafe leads you out of the auditorium, promising you a full tour of the compound later as he moves swiftly down the halls, two men walking in front of him and two men behind him.
you should have known rafe would get himself into some sort of leadership position even after the apocalypse. he might not be the most well versed in combat or shooting, but he can lead and throw commands around like he was born for it.
“this is my- our chambers.” rafe pushes the door open, the four men remaining outside as rafe leads you in. it's surprisingly comfortable inside, suddenly feeling like you're in a home rather than a military base.
“i-i think i may have died when i fell off the fence. there's no way this is real.” you genuinely have to run your hands along your arms, pinching yourself to make sure you aren't dreaming.
“it's real, baby.” rafe sighs with relief as he strips off the weapons, placing them at the table near the door before stripping off his fatigues until he's just in a plain white tshirt and shorts, looking just like the boy you knew before the end came.
as he steps closer, arms wrapping around you and allowing you to relax into his hold, reality comes rushing to you. you try to keep your cries quiet, but in no time sobs are racking your body, rafe lowering you both to the ground as you cry, loud sobs, even interlaced with screams from all the horrors you saw surviving without him. you let it all go, finally safe enough to.
rafe doesn't say anything, just holds you until your cries lessen and you pass out, exhaustion pulling you to sleep.
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pedroshotwifey · 3 months
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Beg For It
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Pairing: Virgin!Din Djarin x afab!reader
Word count: 3.9k
Tags/warnings: piv sex, oral (m), cock worship, virgin din, premature ejaculation, teasing, humiliation, sub din, dom reader, degradation, cockpit sex™, embarrassment, age gap (younger reader), din djarin's monster cock, helmet stays on, pet names, snarky reader, experienced reader, stuff I'm forgetting (c'mon guys, it's me.)
Summary: You make a shocking discovery about Din and decide to do something about it.
A/N: Hey babes! Sorry if you're waiting on TTF or FB rn, but my brain does not want to cooperate atm. TTF 4 should be out relatively soon, but I'm not sure about FB. I hope you like this fic, bc I have no idea where it came from 🤣 My asks are always open in the meantime!!
***
“Fuck, it’s tight in here,” you complain as you stuff yourself into the small alcove exposed by the panel that was just removed from the Crest’s wall. 
“And a fucking mess. Do you ever organize this shit, Din?” 
The exasperated sigh that comes from behind you is enough to answer your question. 
You roll your eyes as you reach for the tangled ball of wires in front of you. No wonder the lights have been flickering. You’re lucky it wasn’t anything worse than that. 
“Who would even be doing this shit if you didn’t have me? Not like your broad ass could fit in here.” 
Mando scoffs behind you. 
“We got along perfectly fine before you,” he argues. “Grogu could fit in there, I’d have him do it.” 
Now it’s your turn to laugh. 
“Yeah, that would go over well.” 
Din ignores your quip as he comes up to your side and nudges you with his boot. 
“Hey! Can you not?” You turn your head to bite out at him even though he can’t see you. 
“Scootch over,” he demands. “I need to see what you’re doing so you don’t blow the ship up or something.” 
“Wow, it’s really reassuring to know how much faith you have in me, Mando.”
You swear you hear him bite down on a laugh and you smile despite yourself. You squash yourself to the side as much as you can, allowing a small gap so Din can peek in beside you. He groans as he lowers himself to his belly. 
“Poor old man,” you can’t help but tease. “Bad knees getting to you?” 
“Shut up,” Din quips. 
You don’t actually know how old Din is, but you’re placing your bets on late thirties or early forties. Definitely older than you either way, but not quite old enough to be deserving of your quips. That’s not going to stop you, of course. 
By the time he’s looking inside, you’ve untangled the mess of wires and separated the two that need to be switched. 
“Damn it, Mando, you’re blocking my light. I can’t see shit.” 
He sighs for the umpteenth time today. 
“Really? There’s plenty of light,” he argues. 
“Yeah, maybe when you have a fucking night vision mod in your helmet. Get up and tell me what to do from there.” 
He obeys but you swear you hear him mutter something about being bossy through a groan. 
“What have you done so far?” 
“I’ve separated the red and blue wires from the rest.” 
“Okay, go ahead and pull them both from their outlets.” 
You try to pull them off, but you can’t quite reach the outlets on the back wall. 
“Damn it,” you mutter. 
You shove your knees under yourself and arch your back in attempt to push yourself further into the wall. Straining a bit, you’re able to grasp both ends and successfully tug them towards yourself. 
“Got it, what now?” 
“Put the red wire where the blue wire was, and the blue where the red was,” Mando instructs. His voice sounds much raspier than it had a second ago, making you quirk a brow. 
“You okay there?” you ask as you finish the task. 
“Yup,” he croaks. 
“Okay, I’m coming out.” 
You start to wriggle yourself back, and you hear Din make a strangled sound before biting down on it. It’s not until you feel your ass waggling with your movement that you realize what has him so worked up. A sly smirk quickly spreads across your face as you decide there’s no harm in teasing him a bit. 
You groan and arch your back further as you back out, your ass up in the air as much as you can get it. You take your sweet time sitting up once you're out, and you can almost feel the heat coming from Mando by the time you do. You turn around to face him only to find that he’s avoiding your gaze, his hands clasped together casually in front of his crotch. You honestly wonder who he thinks he’s fooling—there’s not much that could hide a tent that size. 
“What’s the matter, big boy?” you ask sweetly. “You look a bit flustered.” 
“N-nothing.” 
You have to physically bite down on your lip to avoid laughing at his voice crack. You’ve never heard him struggle so much. He clears his throat and tries again. 
“Nothing’s wrong, cyar’ika.” 
“Hm. You sure? Because I’m pretty sure you were checking my ass out a second ago.” 
Din chokes on nothing as soon as the words are out of your mouth. 
“I was not!” He bites out in a panicked tone. 
“Nothing wrong with it, I get it. I’d check out my ass, too,” you laugh and shrug. He looks down at his feet and your brows furrow. This might be the most flustered you’ve ever seen him. 
“Dude, it was just an ass, not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve seen much more than that,” you chuckle lightly. 
He slowly looks up at that, and time comes to a stop as things click into place in your head. 
“Holy shit,” you say, bewildered. “You haven’t seen more than that. You’re a virgin aren’t you?” 
You grin when he says nothing in response. No fucking way the Mandalorian hasn’t fucked or been fucked before. Hell, you’ve wanted to fuck him since you came aboard this junk pile of a ship. Damn, you’re going to take this opportunity and fucking run with it. 
“Poor baby Din, never had pussy before,” you coo at him as you stand all the way up. “What’s the matter? Is it too small? Maybe you don’t even like pussy. You want a big strong man to fuck your ass?” You know you’re just spouting anything you think might get under his skin at this point. 
“N-no,” he bites out, though there’s not much conviction behind it. You continue walking towards him, forcing him toward the cockpit’s pilot seat. 
“No? You don’t like cock, Din?” 
“I think you need some help, big guy. You clearly need someone to dominate you, since you don’t have the balls to step up yourself. You’re lucky I’m here, I can show you how good it can be.”
Din’s hands move closer to his clothed cock to hide the twitch that ensues from your words. You see the movement and it only spurs you on. He gulps again as you keep walking toward him.
“No, I-”
“Take a seat, Mando.” 
He crosses his arms and stands up straighter, leveling you with a defiant stare you can practically feel through his beskar helmet. 
“I will do no such thing.” 
“Oh,” you reply, crossing your arms and returning the look. “But you will.”
You glance down at the impressive bulge in his flight suit, smirking when you catch him shift ever so slightly under the weight of your gaze. 
“I think you want to sit down for me, Mando. And I think you’re going to be begging for my cunt by the time I’m done with you.”
You take a step toward him, and you can see the subtle way he stops himself from taking a step back in response. You stop in front of him and let your hand down to graze his covered length. There’s a sharp intake of breath barely heard throughout the hull. If you had been standing where you were a few seconds ago, you would have missed it. 
“Sounds like you already want to, actually.” 
You cup him fully now, and a strangled sound slips through his tightly sealed lips. 
“Poor little virgin Din, doesn’t even know how good he could have been feeling all this time,” you tease, giving him a light squeeze. 
“S-stop,” he grits out, uncrossing his arms to grab your wrist with one hand. Your movements come to a swift stop. 
“Ask me again, and I will,” you tell him. “But I don’t think you really want that, do you? I think you want to stick your dick inside my warm pussy and come your dumb little brains out.”
There’s a brief silence as you stare each other down, and you can almost feel the way he starts to consider his options. 
“I-”
You give him another squeeze, tighter this time, and his hips buck forward as another animalistic sound tumbles from his tongue. 
“Fuck, please,” Din whines as he gives up trying to hold back. You grin wildly at the sound. 
“Please, what, Din? What do you want?” 
“P-please fuck me!” 
Your hand flattens against him and starts to rub sensually up and down, giving him enough friction to have him shivering with each pass. 
“Okay, baby. Sit down like I told you to, and I’ll take care of you.” 
He nods as you start to lead him backwards, the back of his knees hitting the cockpit chair and forcing him to follow your instructions. 
“What a good boy,” you lean forward to coo at the side of his helmet, right where his ear would be. “Why don’t you take your cock out for me?” 
You push yourself away from him, your hands placed on either arm rest as you lean over him. Din hesitates for a moment, clearly not used to the kind of vulnerability you’re asking him to surrender. 
“Go ahead, baby. I promise I won’t make fun.” In fact, you know you won’t. Judging by the massive tent in his pants, there is absolutely no way that Din Djarin is anywhere near small. Not that you’ll tell him that, of course. 
You stare intently as he gulps and lets his hands trail down to unbuckle his belt and shakily pull his zipper down, revealing his boxers. He waits a beat before pulling himself completely out, and you have to fight to keep your jaw from dropping when he does. 
“Holy shit, Djarin,” you gawk. “Well, your dick definitely wasn’t the problem. Scared some people off if anything.” Honestly, it almost scares you. You don’t think your hand could even fully wrap around it if you grabbed it right now. 
You look back to his helmet, making what you hope is eye contact. Judging by the way he shifts in the seat, you’re pretty sure you’re spot-on. 
“You’re so pretty, Din. It’s a shame nobody’s ever told you.” 
“T-thank you,” he breathes, his head turning slightly. 
“I want you to put your hands on the armrests while I show you how pretty I think you are.” 
He hesitates, obviously still not sure about any of this. 
“Go ahead,” you prompt. “Unless you want me to cuff you to the damn chair.” 
At this, he quickly obeys your request and lets his hands go to grip the rests. His cock slaps up, hard and leaking against his covered stomach. He twists his neck all the way to the side, avoiding eye contact as much as he can manage. As much as he’s resisting giving in, you can see how his chest heaves with desire. In this case, the lust is simply stronger than the embarrassment. 
You quickly bring a hand up to grab at the bottom of his helmet, roughly jerking his head back to look at you. 
“You’re going to watch me while I suck your cock. If I see you look away, you’re not going to like what happens after.” 
Din shivers and nods, shaken slightly by your authoritative tone. 
“Say ‘yes, ma’am’.” 
You watch his throat bob as he gulps down his nervousness. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes out. 
“See, you can be such a good boy when you put your mind to it.”
You slink down to your knees and place your hands on his thick, tense thighs. With your eyes level with his cock, you’re able to watch the way a spurt of precum dribbles down from the tip. 
“Look at that, baby. Little dick is drooling already and I haven’t even touched you.” 
Din tenses and clenches his hand but makes a point not to look away. Good, at least you know he’s listening. Who knew how easy it is to tame a Mandalorian? A little humiliation and degradation can go a long way. 
You lean forward, grabbing hard onto his thighs in reminder to keep his hands where they are as you stick your tongue out to scoop up the precum leaking down his shaft. His hips jut forward, and you swear you hear a quiet whine from his helmet. You can’t help but chuckle lightly.
You decide not to waste your time with little licks, and instead lean forward to take his entire tip into your mouth. Now you definitely hear a whine. You struggle to shove more of him into your mouth and down your throat, his girth making it much more of a task than it needs to be. 
You can feel yourself getting wetter just from the thought of how deliciously he would stretch you out in other places. It really is a damn shame he’s kept this absolute monster tucked away for so long. 
His fingers twitch at the same time his head slams back into the headrest, though he keeps it angled down so he can keep watching you. You have to swallow a few times to work him all the way down, and by that time you can almost feel the way he’s tightened up to restrain himself. 
You take pity on him and pull back, resisting the urge to gag as his weight drags across your throat again. A string of spit connects you to his shiny cock as you smirk up at him. 
“Tell me how it feels, sweet boy.” 
“F-feels s-so good, c-cyare,” Din squeaks. 
“Yeah, you want more?” 
He nods furiously and you immediately flick the tip of his swollen cock, earning you a strangled yelp as his hips buck wildly. 
“What’s the matter? Finally got your dick wet and suddenly you forget how to speak?” 
He begins to shake his head before catching himself and giving you a verbal response. 
“N-no–I mean, yes, yes I want more! Please touch me,” he thrusts his hips forward again, though you're not sure if it’s voluntary or not. 
“Alright, since you asked so nicely.” 
You quickly grasp him and start to pump him furiously, leaning to him again to drool on his tip. The extra lubricant makes your hand glide more smoothly, your pace picking up to the point where you can see his balls drawing up. 
You work your mouth in tandem with your fist, worshiping his throbbing cock with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips on the exposed skin. You close your eyes for a second to savor the way he feels between your lips, and the salty flavor that graces your tongue. If you died with Din Djarin’s dick in your mouth, you would die a happy woman.
“C-cyare, I-” 
He cuts himself off as you quickly pull yourself away, leaving him with nothing but your cooling spit to focus on. 
“No, no, no–ung–I, p-please!” 
You laugh at him as he thrusts up, trying to find some kind of friction. His voice sounds wet, almost like there are tears in his eyes. 
“Aww,” you stand back to admire his writhing body. “Poor thing can’t remember anything but ‘please’. That’s cute. Not hard to get you dumb, is it, Mando?” 
You start to strip in front of him, and his hands come up from the armrests. 
“You better not be moving your fucking hands, Din,” you warn. “I know where you keep those damn binders, don’t think I won’t use them.” 
He groans but lets his wrists back down. His feet shift instead since there’s nothing else he’s able to move at the moment. He whines again as your top comes off with your bra, and then your pants with your panties. 
Fully naked and obviously soaked, you stalk toward him yet again, stopping to place your hand on his shoulder as you climb into his lap, careful not to touch his cock just yet. You settle your thighs over the tops of his and spread your legs. 
When you look up at him, he’s staring you back in your eyes, refusing to look down. You smirk once you realize why. 
“Don’t get shy on me now, baby boy,” you say. “Go ahead and look at my pussy, I know you want to.” 
You watch him slowly lower his gaze and breathe out a curse once it lands on your seam. Leaning forward, you whisper again to the side of his helmet. 
“You can move a hand, Din. Spread me open.” 
He visibly trembles at your command but lifts an arm none-the-less. You feel his fingers trail gently down to where you want him, but he stops just short. 
“T-take my glove off, please. Want to feel you, cyar’ika.” 
You smile at him and carefully bring his hand up to pull his glove off, his dick twitching as you do so. You lick your lips as a tanned and scarred hand is revealed. It’s ridiculous how attracted you are to that simple appendage. You wish you could see his entire body, but you know that’s not a likely scenario. 
Once his glove is discarded on the floor, he moves back to your cunt and sucks in a harsh breath as he feels you. 
“You’re s-so wet,” he says in a way that makes you unsure if he meant to say it out loud or not.
You laugh quietly and guide his hand so that he can prod at your hole, to which he chokes. 
“That’s all because of you, sweet boy.” 
You move your hips forward, and his fingers slip through your seam, your slick collecting on the rough pads. You grasp his wrist to bring his hand to your lips, opening your mouth to suck your tang of the digits at the same time as you let your pussy push against the underside of Din’s cock. 
Another animalistic noise accompanies the way his entire body jolts at the sudden contact. With a pop, you pull his fingers from your mouth to make room for the giggle that bubbles up from your throat. 
“Poor baby’s so sensitive!” you exclaim as you grind against him, making him groan with each pass. Both of his hands grip down hard, one on the rest and the other on your thigh. The man has a fucking grip, you’re sure there will be five little bruises littered across your skin tomorrow. You wonder how good that grip would feel on your hips as he drills himself into you from the back, and file that thought back for another day. 
You shudder as his tip bumps up against your clit, sending little shocks up your spine and making you dizzy. 
“Gonna fuck you now, baby boy,” you breathe. “You want that? Want to stick your cock inside me?” 
“I-ungh-yes, yes!” 
“Yeah?” you ask as you keep up your movements. “Beg for it.” 
“P-please,” Din asks a bit too quietly for your liking. You would bet all the credits you won that he’s blushing under that armor right now.
“Oh, come on now, you can do better than that.” 
There’s a short moment where you think Din isn’t going to do it, and a lump of disappointment gets stuck in your throat. Luckily, he doesn’t make you sit with it for too long. 
“Please, please put my d-dick in your pussy, want to feel you, please! I-I can’t–I want–”
In the middle of his babbling, you lift yourself up and line his cock with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. His hands fly to your hips at the same time his thoughts fly from his brain, unable to think of anything but the way your tight pussy is parting to welcome his fat tip. 
He’s never felt anything quite this pleasurable before, the sensation nearly blinding him as you work yourself down onto him. 
Your head tilts back as Din holds onto your hips for dear life. The combination of that pressure along with the burn from his cock stretching you out is almost too much. You can feel a heat bubbling at the base of your spine, and he’s not even all the way inside of you yet. 
“Oh, god, that’s so good, Din. You’re so good.” 
He whimpers in response, though part of that may be due to the fact that your hips are now flush to his. You’re both panting, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. You can’t see the perspiration on Din, but you can feel the moist heat emanating from him. 
You open your eyes, not realizing they had been closed in the first place. You’ve never been this fucking full in your life. You swear you can feel him all the way up to your throat.
“M–plea–please move,” Din begs and lets his helmet rest on your forehead. His entire body is shaking with the effort of not blowing his load too quickly. 
You grant his request, starting to rock your hips as you bring a hand to settle on his neck, delighted to find a damp mess of curls peeking out from his helmet at the nape. Din gasps as you tug lightly while lifting your hips. 
You start a slow but steady rhythm, your skin slapping against each other each time you bottom out. His heavy cock drags against your walls, making your toes curl. A little whine sneaks out from Din’s concealed lips every time you sink down on him. 
A lewd moan tumbles from your lips as you feel him punch against your cervix, tucking in further than you’ve ever been able to reach before. 
“Fuck, Din! You’re so deep, baby!” 
“I’m not g-going to last l-long, Meshla,” Din strains. 
You ride him harder, taking that as a challenge. The tight thatch of hair at the base of his cock catches on your clit as you slam down on him, bringing you further to the brink. Something white hot flashes within your body, blinding you momentarily. 
You’re not even able to tell him you’re close too before you’re clamping down on him, and he’s shouting as he loses control. Your moans tangle together as you soak his dick, your legs trembling unlike you’ve ever experienced before. 
Din wraps his arms around you as he thrusts up into you, spilling himself within your heat. You’ve never in your life seen or felt anyone come as much as he does. Every time you think he’s done, you feel another spurt of his seed clinging to your walls.
By the time you’re both coming down, your ears have started ringing and your breathing has calmed down enough for you to get a word out, though you’re not sure Mando’s quite capable of that yet. 
“Y-you good?” you manage to gasp. 
You feel Din nod against you, and give yourself permission to lean against him. You’re wrung fucking dry. If this is what it feels like when you’re on top, what might it be like when Din’s in charge? The thought makes your body shudder and your pussy quiver. You sit in silence with him for a while until he finally breaks it with a voice just above a whisper. 
“C-can we do that again?”
You laugh at hearing the last thing you expected to come from his mouth after that. 
“Fucking maker, Din.”
***
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fic-over-cannon · 5 months
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A Soft Touch (pt. 1)
jason todd x f!reader (implied)
summary: when the pit brought jason back, it heightened all of his senses. he learns to live with that.
tags: mild body horror, sensory overload, mentions of offscreen violence, implied future relationship
rated teen | wc: 1.9k
a/n: dedicated to @jasonsmirrorball my beloved, who was just as excited about this version of jason as i was. part one is mostly a retrospective about how super senses would have impacted jason. the romance part of this story (and nsfw) will be in part 2 coming soon!
link to part 2, ao3 link
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The Red Hood’s helmet isn’t just a precaution against an exposed secret identity or another piece of armour. It’s a necessity. It filters out sound, keeps out pungent smells and the associated tastes, controls light, and can restrict range of vision. For a regular person the helmet would be sensory deprivation of the worst kind. For Jason, it is the lifeline that keeps him alive to fight another day.
If anyone had asked Jason’s opinion before throwing him into the Lazarus Pit (not that he was in a fit state to respond, mind you) he would have told them that trusting a puddle of primordial green goo to know the limitations of the human body was incredibly stupid. Having come out of the experience irrevocably altered, he would point to his own body as an example of how much the pit didn’t know about humanity. Every scar he received before death had been removed (notably, the scars from after death were left untouched). He was over six feet tall when childhood malnutrition should have left him a good five inches shorter. His strength, rather than the result of packed on muscle and a good diet was definitely being supplemented by something unnatural. For a body built like a fridge, he was ridiculously light on his feet and agile. The physics of him just don’t make sense. Yet despite all of these changes, undoubtedly the worst was how all five of his senses had been heightened.
The Lazarus Pit burned through Jason Todd and woke him up screaming. It was the feel of it that was the worst sensation, the one that brought him up to consciousness first. The rough weave of his training pants grating against his skin like wire, clinging to his raw flesh with the dampness of the pit. Green water, oddly viscous and acrid, drenching his skin and burning like a grease fire. It drips down his nose and throat, the taste of tar and blood seared into his tongue, the scent of burnt hair and flesh imprinted into his nose. It drips into his eyes and brands them. The dark cave only lit by the green glow of the pool now so bright like it holds the light of one hundred stars. Burning and drowning and being flayed alive, Jason has no care for noise save that it deafens him. For those first few moments of awakening, Jason may as well have been truly deaf for the thunderous roar of nothingness in his ears. A rubber band snaps and at once his hearing is another ice pick to the brain. Voices that should have been a whisper ring through his skull and reverberate. The footsteps of shadows several floors away staccato through him. It is a living hell made worse by a screaming that won’t shut up. It is only when a slap cracks across his face (it feels like all the skin on his cheek has sloughed off) and the scream trails off to pitiful whines does Jason dimly recognize that the screaming was him. Two pairs of hands under his arms haul him to standing and it hurts oh it hurts. Iron meat hooks digging and clawing their way into him until he is too pinned to slip away. That is the start to the illustrious second life of Jason Todd, newly gifted.
As much training is dedicated to making Jason a better warrior, twice that is given over to training him to survive his own senses. It is rough, brutal work, dictated by trainers that have never felt the pit’s bite. It destroys whatever sanity he might have had left after his rebirth and he is grateful. He is remade with control, no longer a pitiful broken mind tied to a falling star, bracing to burn up on impact. He no longer aches at the feel of fabric on his skin, can smile and hold a conversation without wanting to claw the other person’s heart out for beating too loudly, can drink wine and not taste every molecule. He is so very grateful. But it is not enough. Talia warns him, in what might be her first true act of uncomplicated kindness to him, that those who have survived the pit don’t do well in places where life is concentrated.
Returning to Gotham is not the triumph he pictured. Within minutes of touching down he is on a safe house floor convulsing from sensory overload. The city, with its people and the machinery that houses them, is too much of everything. There are so many voices overlaid with construction and traffic, the chemical rot of the harbour suffocating him, sewage and putrid fish thick on his tongue, fluorescent lights tearing through the soft space of his eyelids. Gunshots and sirens and the tang of old blood. It takes every one of his years of training to stop seizing. It takes iron will like he hadn’t known since the early days to come back to himself. It takes days before he can control himself enough to come face to face with the shadows Talia sent with him. His first order: to bring him a motorcycle helmet. The helmet is black and stinks of cigarette smoke, visor slightly scratched. It is the most powerful relief Jason has ever known. His plans are delayed by months as he figures out the specifications for the Red Hood’s helmet. Design after design prototyped and discarded. The helmet helps, but Jason refuses to let it become his crutch. He practices, minutes at first and then hours, retraining himself to be able to exist outside the confines of the helmet.
He fails in his revenge against Batman and the Replacement, the insidious demands of his heightened senses unraveling all his patience and planning. Sends him into a murderous frenzy that nearly ends in another dead Robin. Ribs broken and face beaten in by his own father, all Jason can concentrate on is the sensation of drying blood flaking on his skin. Delirious, he thinks, so this is what they meant about the killing rage the pit hands out. It is only by the thinnest of chances that nobody dies at all and that his senses remain a secret.
Reconciliation is hard earned. He never quite gets around to telling anyone about his new ‘gifts’. Let’s them think him much more observant and tactically sound then he really is. Learns to identify the joyful thwip of Dick’s grappling gun, the steady drumming of Tim’s fingers on a keyboard. Jason memorizes the smell of Alfred’s hugs, a mixture of silver polish and baked goods. Starts to categorize all the different ways Bruce’s eyes on him feel physically.
Life doesn’t stop when his revenge does either. Jason rents an apartment as his semi-permanent safe house. Consciously decides to make it a home and learns the art of the DIY renovation. Blackout curtains go up first, followed by a soft blue on the walls (Jason may be sensitive to light now but he still can’t stand total darkness). Sound proofing comes next. He’s had a few close calls when the upstairs neighbour blasted music a little too loud and had had to restrain himself from killing them. The lumpy mattress gets replaced with memory foam and new sheets at a ridiculously high silk thread count he can’t quite believe he shelled out for. Through trial and error he finds a laundry detergent that doesn’t make him nauseous and celebrates with all the loads he’d put off. He finds joy in cooking again, running through all the recipes Alfred had taught him and appreciating them more for the new way the flavours tasted on his tongue. To his chagrin, he also discovers he hates the lingering smell of cooked food in his apartment after he’s done eating. A range hood fixes that problem but causes a new one with the rattle of the fan. Sound cancelling headphones quickly become his new best friend. Piece by piece his little oasis comes together.
Eventually Jason learns to share his little home. Stilted conversations in door frames turn into invitations for a drink turn into semi-regular dinners. Family movie nights start happening before Jason realizes it, all of the Robins, former and current, curled up in his living room. In the top kitchen cupboard on the left, a shelf gets dedicated to popcorn seasonings. Extra throw blankets get added to the sofa after Tim makes a remark about never making it through a movie night because the blankets are too comfy. Dick will show up cheerfully demanding a brotherly talk but Jason has realized that with the strategic application of cereal he can avoid talking about his own emotions. Alfred visits regularly, brings his own tea and a new recipe for the two of them to try together. Alfred never leaves without remarking on how well Jason keeps his home (and Jason never fails to flush at the compliment). Strangely enough it is when Bruce comes knocking that Jason feels the most sure footed in his apartment. Invites Bruce in politely and goes through the motions of hosting. It baffles Bruce a little, to see the Red Hood so domestic but it soothes the part of him that sat up all night with Jaylad when he was sickly. Bruce, in his own way, makes it clear that Jason will always be part of the family no matter where he chooses to live.
This latest point of reconciliation couldn’t have been timed any better. Only a few days later Damian turns up on the doorstep of the Wayne Manor. Bruce brings him by the apartment to introduce Damian to Jason, hoping that the two most recent additions will at least get along better than Damian and Tim’s first shaky interaction. It goes a little too well. Damian, unused to the sensory nightmare that is Gotham, takes two steps into Jason’s apartment and demands to stay with his big brother. Jason, intimately aware of how uncomfortable the transition from the orderly League compound to Gotham was, is only too happy to see Damian too. It takes a whispered fight of yes, I knew him, and no, I didn’t know who his father was before Bruce eventually has to concede that Damian will at least be spending some time in Jason’s home. The split transition makes establishing a life in Gotham much easier for Damian than it was for Jason. Jason can at least recognizes the signs of sensory overload, can guide Damian through it without the cruel methods of his former instructors. In caring for Damian, Jason comes to realize that he deserved worlds better than the torture disguised as teaching that he received. In preparing Damian to be a part of society, he realizes that he wants more out of life than being a controlled weapon too.
Jason waits, and he plans. After all, if he could design and execute a months’ long campaign to take over the Gotham underworld, surely he’s capable of getting a social life. He picks his first target with care, intending only to get used to being around people outside of scripted settings and his helmet. He chooses a small library two blocks from the apartment with an attached coffee shop, sets himself little goals for each day with the option to bail as soon as it becomes too much. In the span of two weeks he’s ready to move from using the library to sitting in the coffee shop. It’s a daunting task. The smell of the coffee beans, the hiss of the milk frother, and the quiet rumble of conversation prove to be too much for him on his first attempt. It’s as he’s leaving that a bright laugh floats above the din and stirs his curiosity. The next day has him right back at the coffee shop staring up at the chalk board menu. Sweat is starting to bead on his forehead and he could swear he can feel the vibrations of the coffee grinder on his skin. He is just about getting ready to leave when he hears the laugh again. Turns around and the owner of it is standing right behind him (how did she get so close without him noticing?!) beaming up at him.
And oh.
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sprout-fics · 1 year
Note
Can I throw in a prompt for the Thursday Night Thots for a ghost/konig/soap x reader (either separate or all 3 together) in an A/B/O universe where they run into the reader who is a new rookie at the base and them slowly realizing that the reader is their mate? Thank youu ❤️
Warning: Alpha/Omega/Beta dynamics ahead. Please don't read if you don't like
You were used to this by now.
Staring up at some hulking, egotistical alpha, their arms crossed, eyes peering down at your smaller form in a way that you knew intimately. Their eyes narrowed with interest, disgust, shoulders tight and a growl ready in their throat as their nostrils flared and they drank in the muted scent of omega.
You’re prepared for your masked lieutenant to snarl at you, demand how you of all people made it onto his taskforce, strip you bare in spirit and leave you for the wolves as he destroys every ounce of courage you scraped and fought for to earn your place here. 
What you aren’t ready for, is for the lieutenant to breathe deeply, as if he’s scenting something dripping, heady, warm standing before him. The sound of it ripples through you as he makes no effort to hide it, and there’s no ounce of color in his eyes, pupils fully blown as he stares you down, doesn’t move. 
You meet his stare head-on, defiant, a live-wire on the obstacle course you just ran, sweat still dripping down your back, filling the air with your scent. You think maybe he’s getting a rush from it, from the raw dose of pheremones unhampered by the blockers in your system. Maybe he’s one of those sickos that likes omegas on his team with him, under him.
“Hit the showers.” He tells you instead with a jerk of his head, and you blink, furrow your brow, try to understand. Yet you don’t question him, offer a curt ‘Sir.’ and jog in the direction he’s sent you. 
You don’t see him breathe in the remainder of your presence, a growl grumbling in his chest as you vanish.
It’s…strange after that. You suddenly find yourself within the scopes of three of the officers within the taskforce. They pass you in the hallways, breathe in before you’re gone, rumble something that sounds vaguely like approval in their chests and leaving you lost in their wake. 
You come to know them. Ghost, the one who barks when the other recruits stand too close to you, snicker at your omega status. He’s no less soft on you than your comrades, a fact you appreciate, but his eyes watch you differently, tracing every step at a distance like he’s trying to imbue you into his orbit. 
There’s his massive friend- the Austrian on loan from some foreign organization. He’s nearby often, drawing close at the line in the mess hall, at the gym, near the firing range. Like he’s trying to rub his scent onto you without touching, trying to warn any others from coming too close. You find it helpful, his massive size warding off the other alphas who get too close, try and touch you until you bite back with snarling teeth and wild eyes. He brings you offerings, little snacks, extra meds, and it feels almost romantic, like he’s trying to court you. 
Then there’s Soap, the other omega, the one who does get close. He’s tactile, you learn, wedges himself in beside you and ruffles your hair like he would a pup, bumps his hip with yours, offering you little fist bumps and jeering grins at your laughter from his jokes. You’re looser, softer around him, don’t have your hackles up like the rest of them. You think it’s because he’s like you, but come to realize it’s just him, vibrant like the sun, would sear you with his eyes if you lingered too long. 
You don’t know that he brings your scent back with him to his mates, that they drink it in like the nectar of the gods in the absence of you. 
You don’t know what to make of it until your heat. You haven’t had one in years, the military standard suppressants enough to ward it off. Yet something has broken through, and you realize too late it’s them. Your chosens. Your mates.
The heat is vicious, tearing through your body, setting your skin ablaze, consuming your world in drunk fever. You don’t even have the mind or strength to try and find them on base, curling in your bunk in the scantly occupied omega quarters and trying to imagine them just by memory. 
It’s Konig that finds you, hushes beautiful, sweet German into your ear, gathers you in your blanket to muffle your scent and takes you with him. You curl into his chest with a whimper, a whine of “Alpha-” That has a protective growl echoing forth until it lulls you into stillness. 
It’s Soap who is allowed to touch you, who wipes the sweat from your brow and tucks his alphas’ clothes around you, murmuring encouragements to you but never truly touching you, refuses to allow himself no matter how you beg for him and the others. Instead he just holds you, rocks you to sleep as you’re swaddled in one of Simon’s jackets, drinking in the scent and letting the cool relief of him wash over your scorched senses.  Yet when you wake on the third day, it’s to three forms curled haphazardly around you, each of them finding some way to keep contact with you. You know you should try and wake them, try and understand how it’s not just one but all of them that fate has tied you to, but in the dewy morning light, with three bodies covering you from all sides, you fall further into sleep, surrendering to both fate, and to them.
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clockwayswrites · 8 months
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Danny/Jason, Catharsis
@roanawayspoons cw: blood
Jason watched the floor of the gym from behind his helmet. It was mostly empty at this time of the morning: late enough that the night owls were in bed but early enough that the early birds were still asleep. The last two who have been using the treadmills were shoving each other, laughing as they headed out.
That just left Jason, who knew he wouldn’t sleep that night, and the new guy.
That was a little unfair. The guy had been here for a few months already and others had joined after him, but no one knew him. He went by Puck, threw a mean punch, was good with kids and prostitutes, and kept to himself.
Tonight he seemed determined to break a punching bag open.
Slam.
The bag swung back and Puck dodged, light on his feet— lighter than he should be with how sloppy his footwork was.
Slam.
Puck shook his head, sweat flying. He had come in with his head shaved to nothing, but it was growing back in now, coming in mostly white with a swath of black along the bottom.
Slam.
The smear of blood was bright on the cream of the bag. Puck’s hands were wrapped, but he’d long ago worn through them.
Jason locked the doors before he stepped up and stopped the heavy bag from swinging.
Puck took a step back, but didn’t drop his stance. Smart.
“In the ring,” Jason ordered, not trying to soften the way it came out through the modulation of the helmet.
Puck gave a jerky nod and did as he was told. He slipped easily between the ropes. He really was a small thing, but the muscles wrapped around him like steel wire now. Jason had to pull the ropes apart to move into the ring himself. He rolled his shoulders back, shifted his feet, and motioned for Puck to come at him.
He really was quick as a whip, but Jason had fought better and blocked easily. And kept blocking. And blocking. And blocking.
“Fight me!” Puck yelled.
Jason stayed quiet and kept blocking.
“Fight me!” Puck’s punches lost their form, the next swing went wild.
Jason caught the fist, fingers wrapping easily around Puck’s too thin wrist.
Puck snarled, sharp teeth bared with the feral sound. For a moment Jason was sure that Puck was going to try to bite him, but instead the snarl stuttered and faltered into a keening sound.
With a sharp tug, Jason pulled Puck off balance. Puck’s free hand shot out to catch himself against Jason’s chest. Jason twisted them, pinning Puck against him with an iron tight arm. And Puck howled. He kicked and screamed and thrashed and snarled.
Jason stroked his thumb along the inside line of Puck’s wrist, ignoring the way the blood from Puck’s abused knuckles smeared with the gentle motion.
The snarling turned to keening again turned to body shaking sobs. Puck stopped fighting. Slowly Jason brought them to the mat, cradling Puck carefully the whole way. Puck felt so fragile, so small, as Jason tucked him into a tight hold in his lap. He let the wrist go, running fingers through the short white hair.
Puck just cried and Jason let him, let him get it all— what ever ghosts haunted him— out in a wail that cut Jason to the bones.
“You’re safe,” Jason murmured. He didn’t know if that was true, not really, but in the moment it was, and Jason could make sure it stayed that way. “I have you, you’re safe.”
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