#// I had to set the background and the scene

[kunareads]

how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things

actor!satoru x popstar!reader

you and satoru fulfill the prophecy (he picks you up, pulls them down, turns you around).

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wc: 4.7k

satoru "filthy mouth" gojo!!! i had to stop writing this multiple times because of what he does to me. PART 3 VALENTINE'S DAY (comment for taglist)

content: fluff and SMUT! even more tension, you and satoru are once again the subjects of internet speculation, making out, 69, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, pronebone, cowgirl, he's very much in control here

18+ please i block children <3

+++

the internet does what it does best: fill in the blanks.

neither of you say anything. no statements, no denials, no acknowledgments. but speculation spreads like wildfire.

it started small. the blurry afterparty photos, the red carpet chemistry dissection, the think pieces about hollywood's most unexpected flirtation. the usual.

then you post an instagram story.

nothing special. just a close-up of a wine glass, city lights blurred in the background. no context, no caption. but the fans? they think they know.

twitter erupts.

@/satorumess: not to be crazy but i mapped out their locations based on timestamps and—

@/fulltimeshipper: this is worse than when the CIA redacted half that UFO document

@/ynupdates: y/n posting a cryptic story the same night satoru is spotted downtown… oh we are in the trenches forreal

then, satoru likes a tiktok.

a slow-motion edit of you in your red carpet and afterparty looks, set to some dramatic song, captioned this woman is dangerous, your honor.

he doesn't comment, doesn't follow the account. just leaves one single like. and the internet implodes.

@/fandomedits: nah this isn't pr this is a man down BAD

@/popcultupdates: GOJO SATORU LIKING THIRST EDITS IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT WE HAVE LOST HIM COMPLETELY

@/ynstan: this man saw a slo-mo thirst edit and said "yeah let me cosign that"

but it gets worse.

an old clip resurfaces. a red carpet from last year. you and satoru, near each other but never interacting. a moment that meant nothing—until now.

fans slow it down, zoom in, analyze every tiny detail:

satoru steps onto the carpet, and your eyes flick toward him, barely noticeable.

he glances in your direction.

there's a beat where he exhales, seems to collect himself—something no one caught before.

and suddenly, it's evidence.

@/fathergojo: why do their interactions feel like deleted scenes from a romcom

@/yninvestigator: guys. GUYS. what do you MEAN she looked at him FIRST. what do you MEAN HE TOOK A BREATH AND LOOKED AWAY.

@/stanwars: suddenly i believe in fate. suddenly i understand greek tragedies.

apparently, none of this is new.

you and satoru are just catching up.

+++

+++

satoru isn't good at waiting.

patience isn't exactly his strong suit, but when the reward is this good? he doesn't mind.

you walk in like the last week never happened. like the chaos never even registered.

the rooftop lighting catches the silk of your dress, the shine of your jewelry, the sheen of your lips. it makes you look untouchable.

attention follows you effortlessly. heads turn, backs straighten. someone says something, you smile—polite, charming, distant. you're impossible not to watch.

and satoru watches.

he's become acquainted with the effect you have, but it hits harder tonight than it did a week ago.

because now he knows how you taste.

the glass in his hand is cool, condensation falling between his fingers. he takes a sip, tracking you, cataloging details no one else would catch.

the way your shoulders shift, subtle, as you get closer.

the flick of your gaze toward him before you fully reach him.

you stop beside him, close enough for the scent of your perfume to settle between you.

a pause before you meet his eyes.

"so… how's your week been?" you ask, tone light, a smile gracing your features.

satoru exhales a laugh, tipping his glass like a toast. "surprisingly quiet. you?"

as you talk, your fingers trace the rim of your glass. he watches. you let him.

he leans in when he speaks. you don't move away.

he notices the way the waiter lingers, the way you dismiss it with a polite, distant smile.

you notice the way his expression shifts at that, just slightly. neither of you acknowledge it.

"you're kind of a nightmare," you tease.

satoru grins, unbothered. "funny. some people call me a dream."

you laugh and roll your eyes at him. he takes his time with his next sip, letting the tension settle. you're watching him watch you.

it would be easy to let you play this game, to see how long you can act like you're not as impatient as he is. but he leans in, voice quiet, just for you.

"you gonna make me wait?" low, taunting.

you could, but you don't. instead, you lean in too, meeting him halfway. you set your glass down carefully. he mirrors you.

someone—a bartender, another guest—tries to pull you into conversation, but you don't reply.

you lean into him, your voice calm but sure.

"let's go."

+++

streetlights skim over sleek black paint as the car pulls up, satoru swinging the door open. you barely take a step before his hand finds the small of your back, fingers pressing just enough to guide you.

he grins lazily. "last chance."

you roll your eyes as you step in. "so dramatic."

he closes the door after you and circles the car, the driver pulling off.

the backseat feels too small.

you cross your legs. his knee brushes against yours, and he doesn't move away. his hand rests on his thigh, relaxed, too close to yours. deliberate.

you pretend not to notice, but he knows better.

the silence is louder than words. the city blurs past the tinted windows, neon bleeding into the dark. the hum of the engine, the distant murmur of traffic, the faint pulse of something unsaid.

satoru exhales slowly, gliding his tongue over his teeth, thinking. he pushes a button, the partition rising.

you're both quiet, but it's a silent signal: stop pretending.

the second it clicks into place, he moves. or maybe you do. it doesn't matter. he's closer now, facing you, and you're already leaning in.

a beat. a sharp inhale.

his fingers skim your thigh, higher this time.

"i was trying to be good," you say quietly.

his voice drops, tight with restraint, and your breath catches. "don't."

the second the word leaves his lips, you're on him. a hand finds the back of his neck, drawing him in.

the first kiss is slow, but not reluctant. he drags it out because he can. he tilts his head, deepening it. he hums against your lips when you press closer, pleased.

his fingers tease higher. yours twist into his hair, nails scraping just enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

the car rolls to a stop.

neither of you move. not right away.

satoru's grip tightens, like he's considering pulling you onto his lap. like he could keep you here a little longer, let the city blur beyond the tinted glass while he takes his time.

instead, he drags his lips down your jaw, then lower. he breathes you in before murmuring, "upstairs."

+++

the door clicks shut, sealing you in. no music, no distant hum of the city, just quiet, dense and charged.

neither of you break the silence.

satoru steps in first. the air seems to crackle around him here the same way it does everywhere else.

you hold his stare, challenging. he waits.

a test. a game.

then, finally, you reach for him. his grin is lazy, knowing. like he was waiting for you to break first.

this kiss is purposeful. his lips brush yours—once, then again. a silent question, just the slow press of his mouth, the barely-there slide of his hands down your waist.

your fingers slip under his shirt, nails grazing skin, just enough to pull a slow, amused breath from him.

his hands find your hips, insistent, pulling you in until there's no space left. the shift makes you gasp into his mouth, and he drinks it in, looking smug, like he expected it.

like he's been waiting for this all week.

his grip tenses, like he's about to pull you closer—but then he's gone. his heat vanishes, his lips just a ghost of pressure before they disappear completely.

he barely moves when you chase him a bit, just tilts his chin, smiling. like he knew you wouldn't let him go. like he was counting on it.

you inhale, frustration sparking low in your chest, and you move before you think. your hands find his shirt, tugging him back in—but before you can, his fingers close around your wrists, catching you with ease.

his grin is knowing, his grip firm but teasing. he tilts his head, amusement spreading across his face.

"easy, princess," he murmurs, voice low, eyes flicking to your lips. "what's the rush?"

you arch a brow, fingers flexing in his grasp. "you did haul me out of the car."

his grin widens. "not like you put up a fight."

you push.

you press into him, backing him towards the wall. he lets you. lets you kiss him deeper, hands still wrapped around your wrists but relaxing, giving you room to move.

for a second, you think you've won.

then the world tilts and your back meets the wall with a gentle thud, your head tipping back slightly as he crowds you.

he smiles at you, eyes sparkling, enjoying himself too much. his hands settle at your waist, keeping you where he wants you.

you should be annoyed. instead, you match him and smirk right back.

you like the way he handles you.

+++

his touch is maddening.

his fingertips skate over your ribs, your stomach, but never where you need them. it's intentional and exploratory, like he has all the time in the world.

and he does. his apartment is a sanctuary from the mess of the last week. no prying eyes or a disgruntled kento to interrupt here.

you shift, trying to lead him downward, but he only chuckles, barely making a sound.

"you can be patient for me, can't you?" his voice dips lower, "or are you already too far gone?"

he's mocking you, and reflex kicks in—your thighs squeeze together, and you feel the heat creep up your neck when he notices.

his fingers ghost up your inner thighs, teasing warmth into your skin before retreating. every near-touch is calculated, just enough to remind you of how easily he could give you what you want.

he watches as impatience builds in your expression, as your breath stutters when his hands graze your waist again.

your nails press into his shoulders, a silent dare. before he can smirk, before he can gloat, you roll your hips against him, slow, deliberate. the response is immediate.

his breath falters, a groan through gritted teeth. his jaw tightens like he wasn't expecting you to test him. for a split second, he stills entirely.

you smile at him. message received.

"if you wanna ruin me, do it right, satoru." a taunt disguised as a whisper, just enough to chip at his restraint.

his hold turns bruising, like he wants to leave something behind. the teasing tone vanishes, his smirk dissolving into something darker. your breath catches—not in surprise, but excitement as something kindles in your stomach.

because suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

the realization barely registers before he has you pinned, wrists above your head, mouth at your ear.

"hope you know what you're asking for," he murmurs, hips flush against yours. his voice is different now—rough, heat twisting through every syllable. you shudder at the sound, your body responding. he makes good on his words immediately.

his hands find the backs of your thighs—then, suddenly, you're weightless, gasping, clutching at his shoulders. your legs draw around his hips, heat pooling fast.

a startled breath leaves you, but he's already moving, carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing at all.

+++

he drops you onto his bed, grinning at the glare you send him when you bounce.

you don't even get the chance to scold—his hands are already on you, pulling your panties down.

his teeth graze your inner thigh before he bites down, sharp enough to make you whine, hips squirming. he exhales with a smile. "thought so." his tongue follows—slow, indulgent, a promise to ruin you.

you've barely found your breath when he shifts, broad hands pressing into your thighs, spreading you open. his gaze lifts, dark and teasing.

"comfortable?" he asks, lips skimming the inside of your knee.

you roll your eyes, about to retort—but your fingers curl into the sheets instead when his mouth finds your core, hot and devastating.

your hips shift, back arching, and he hums against you, content.

you move the moment he adjusts—quick, decisive, hands pushing into his shoulders. he lets you shift the balance, rolling onto his back, breath catching when he opens his eyes to find you above him.

your fingers work fast, tugging at his belt, yanking it free with a sharp pull. you work on the button, the zipper, pulling the fabric down just enough to free him.

he was so fucking cocky a second ago. now, he's not even breathing right, body taut under your hands. so you stroke once, then twice, then take him into your mouth.

no warning, no reluctance.

his grip tightens on your thigh, breath punching out like you knocked it loose. his head tilts back, jaw tensing, a soft "fuck—just like that, baby" escaping him.

you hum around him, pleased, tongue teasing, and he swears again under his breath. his hands fist into the sheets, trying to ground himself.

but satoru doesn't like being outmatched.

his fingers skate up your thigh, squeezing. and then his mouth is on you, tongue dragging through your folds, slow and deep.

you gasp against him, body tensing, and he grins.

"that's better," he mutters against you, lips brushing sensitive skin before his tongue circles once, twice.

the sound you make is muffled around him, and he groans in response, the vibration rolling through you both.

you try to keep a rhythm, fingers curling at the base as you sink down, but every time his tongue moves just right, every time he sucks at your clit, you falter.

he notices, and he loves it.

his hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as he buries his face deeper, determined, fucking into you with his tongue, sending you to the edge without mercy.

you try to keep going, try to keep your lips wrapped around him, but every nerve in your body is on fire, pressure winding as you moan around him.

he grins against you. "that's it, princess. lemme hear it."

his fingers dig into your skin, tightening as he licks into you with purpose, drawing desperate sounds from your throat.

it's too much. you pull your mouth off of him, panting, lips slick and hips twitching against his face as the bliss hits all at once, unraveling you from the inside out.

"satoru, fuck," you gasp, the words nearly unintelligible through your moans. you can't do anything but let it consume you, your body seizing before the release finally drives through you.

you gasp, sharp and unsteady, his name tumbling past your lips again, voice cracking into a whine.

satoru doesn't stop until you're shaking, your legs weak, pleasure rolling over you in dizzying, tormenting waves.

only when your thighs twitch, too sensitive, does he finally pull away. his face is wet, and he's breathless. he presses one last kiss to the inside of your thigh before looking up at you, eyes dark and lazy.

"you're fucking perfect," he murmurs, voice hoarse, before flipping you onto your stomach, pressing you into the mattress.

+++

you're still coming down when he lifts your hips, tucking a pillow underneath them.

his breath is warm against your shoulder, steady and grounding. his lips trail down your spine, flirting, savoring the way you squirm. a hand settles on your hip possessively, making sure you don't slip away.

his other hand trails lower, sliding between your legs, fingers pressing in—gradually, unhurried, teasing the mess he left behind.

"fuck, baby—you're dripping for me." his voice is all rough edges and satisfaction, murmured against your ear. you shiver. his fingers slide through your folds, spreading your slick, teasing the spot he knows will make you gasp.

"been thinking about this all week," he mumbles, kissing the curve of your neck. his fingers dip lower, pushing inside, slow and deep. "bet you have, too."

you whimper, and he smirks against your skin.

"should've had you like this that night. should've fucked you right up against that wall."

his fingers move at an unbearable pace, curling, pressing into the spot that makes your knees weak. your hips jerk, but he holds you still.

"needy, huh?" his breath is burning against your ear, teasing, smug. "tell me how bad you want it, baby."

your fingers clutch the sheets, patience fraying. you should fight him— push back, make him work for it—but you're too far gone for games.

"satoru—"

his fingers stall. "mm, not good enough."

"want you," you gasp, growing desperate. "need you inside me."

he groans like you just hit him where it hurts. he pulls his hand away, leaving you empty for barely a second before the thick of him replaces them.

he slips the tip through your folds, slick and teasing, but doesn't push in. "this what you wanted?" he asks, rougher now.

"yes."

"say it again."

your breath stutters, but you give him what he wants. "yes. please," you gasp.

his hands flex against your hips, keeping you still as he pushes forward, stretching you open with an unrelenting drag that knocks the air from your lungs. it's almost too much—almost—but you want all of it. you take all of him.

he moves in slowly, and a shaky gasp escapes as he bottoms out, deep inside you, holding himself there, letting you feel it.

his breath is ragged now, his exhale hot against your skin. "fuck."

his hands slide up your sides, guiding you, holding you where he needs you.

"you feel so fucking good," he breathes, voice dipping into something ruined.

his hips roll, deep and slow, like he wants to feel everything. like he wants to make this last.

you think for a second that you won't survive at this pace.

satoru brings his body lower, pressing his chest flush against your back, all heat and tension, breath ghosting over your shoulder as he sinks in.

his arms slip under yours, palms spreading over your shoulders, drawing you into him. not just pulling you back, but owning the space between you.

hi thrusts are indulgent, stretching, coating himself in you. his breath is uneven, satisfaction humming in your ear.

you push your hips back into him, matching his rhythm.

satoru exhales a sharp breath, fingers digging in. "you trying to make me lose it?"

you don't answer, just push back harder on instinct.

his response is immediate—a sharp, precise thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, ripping a moan from your throat before you can swallow it down.

"thought so," he murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder.

his pace turns deep and steady—controlled, measured. he brings his face close to yours, wanting to watch you react, to feel you tighten around him with every movement.

but you're impatient. you shift, pressing up onto your elbows, angling your hips just enough to take him deeper.

his pace stutters. he swears under his breath, voice raw, and one arm locks around your waist. he holds you in place as he fucks into you now, hard enough to leave you trembling, helpless against the bed.

his name leaves your lips, breathless and desperate.

"fuck—it's so good," he groans, half-choked, messy. his face buries into your neck, hands gripping like he's holding on for dear life. "let me hear you, baby."

you can barely think, barely breathe. his hand slides between your legs, fingers finding that spot, pressing slow, teasing circles.

"satoru—"

he chuckles, low and smug, but there's an edge to it now, a tension in the way his hips stutter, his movements losing their precision.

and then you tighten around him, body seizing, pleasure cresting all at once—

"fuck," he bites out, breathless, grip tightening like he's trying to hold on.

and then—he pulls out.

a sharp inhale, the loss making you gasp, but before you can even form a thought—

he flips you over.

"not done with you yet," he mutters, voice rough, gaze dark as he hovers over you.

+++

and just like that, everything shifts.

his hands find you the second he pulls out—a sharp, dizzying shift as he flips you over, settling beneath you. his hands slide up your ribs, brush over your breasts, then slide back down.

his fingers splay wide on your hips, steadying you, but it's his gaze that pins you in place. "wanna see you like this," he murmurs, voice low, still rough from before.

your lips part, but the way he looks at you makes it hard to tease. instead, your nails drag down his chest, unhurried, feeling his abs tense beneath your touch.

"yeah?" you breathe.

his fingers flex, tightening just slightly. "yeah, baby. show me how bad you want it."

you wrap your fingers around him, stroking once, slow and teasing, just to watch him squirm.

his jaw clenches, but he doesn't push. he lets you take your time, lets you set the pace, struggling to hold back.

you don't make him wait long.

you line him up and sink down, savoring the stretch—the way he exhales, sharp and shaky, fingers digging in.

"fuck," he breathes, watching you, eyes dark, half-lidded, all heat.

one of your hands finds his shoulders, nails scraping lightly as you start to move. the other moves down to where you're connected, feeling just how far he spreads you open.

at first, it's slow—like you're figuring each other out all over again. a careful roll of your hips, tension simmering, teasing at something deeper.

but it doesn't last.

his grip firms, guiding you down, matching your rhythm. he thrusts up to meet you with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs.

"you feel me, princess?" he asks, pulling you down harder, deeper.

you answer him with a desperate little whimper that makes him melt.

both of your movements are messy, desperate—like you both know exactly where this is going and you need to get there.

your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping, tugging just slightly, and he hisses, eyes squeezing shut for a second.

his hands slide up your spine, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing to yours, breathing hard.

"you feel so fucking good," he murmurs, almost a whine. "so wet for me, so fucking perfect."

you can't even speak. your thoughts blur, pleasure winding tight, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

he shifts beneath you, angling deeper, hitting exactly where you need him. the sudden jolt of pleasure makes your whole body tighten, makes you let out a sound you didn't mean to make—

a loud, broken moan, breathy, helpless.

his head snaps up, eyes wild, something cracking behind them—like he just lost his last thread of control.

"oh," his breath shudders, grip tightening. "oh."

and then he's gone.

he snaps his hips into yours, his hands gripping, guiding, setting a pace that's relentless, that has you gasping, nails biting into his shoulders.

your vision goes hazy, body tightening, winding up unbearably fast. you try to tell him you're close, but all that comes out is a shaky, broken "satoru—"

"oh, fuck—there it is," he breathes, voice dropping, eyes dark and triumphant. "knew you'd sound so fucking sweet falling apart for me."

his hand finds your clit, pressing just right—teeth gritting as he holds on, watching you break first.

and you shatter.

it slams into you, sharp and consuming, a shockwave rolling through your body. your breath stutters, a broken gasp stumbling free as you tighten around him, locking him in.

he feels it—the way you pulse around him, the way you tremble, how your moans dissolve into something helpless. it undoes him. his arm slides your waist, his other hand finding the back of your neck, and he pulls you closer like he needs you.

he curses as you tremble against him, holding you close, burying himself deep in you as he falls apart.

your name leaves his lips like a prayer, breathless, reverent. he groans against your skin as he finally spills into you. pleasure crashes through him, and for a moment, all he can do is feel **the heat of you, the way you throb around him, the way your body takes him like you were made for this.

for a second, you both stay still; the only sound between you is the sharp, uneven puff of breath.

your hands shake against his chest. his fingers are still locked around your waist.

he exhales a wrecked laugh, warm and lazy against your temple.

"so fucking worth the wait," he murmurs, voice low, sated. he kisses all over your face, palm smoothing down your spine. "knew you'd be perfect for me."

+++

the morning light spills through the curtains, golden and soft, warming tangled sheets and bare skin. everything is still. quiet, but not empty. satoru is warm against you, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. at some point in the night, your leg found its way between his, one of his arms draped lazily over your waist.

you shift, stretching slightly, and his fingers flex at your hip, like some part of him refuses to let you go.

he murmurs something unintelligible, voice low and drowsy. then, with a slow, easy smile against your skin, "stay."

you huff a quiet laugh. "clingy."

"mmm," he hums, voice is thick with sleep. "you're warm."

he still hasn't opened his eyes. he just shifts a little, nestling deeper into you. his fingers pressing idly into your hip, like he's memorizing the shape of you beneath them.

you stay like that for a while.

you steal a button-up from his closet when you finally get up, slipping it over your shoulders before following him into the bathroom. he doesn't comment, just flicks his gaze over you, lips twitching, before rummaging through a drawer. a moment later, he presses a spare toothbrush into your palm.

"definitely took you for the clingy type."

he grins, stretching lazily against the counter. "not my fault you're so soft."

you brush your teeth side by side, bleary-eyed in the mirror. he stands just a little too close, bumping into your arm like he can't help himself.

and when you head back to bed, he follows, catching your wrist just before you climb in, guiding you back under the covers with ease.

"wait." his lips brush your shoulder. "just stay there."

"i am staying," you point out, amused.

"good," he hums, pressing one last kiss to your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

satoru returns minutes later, two mugs in hand. he sets yours on the nightstand before wordlessly disappearing back to the kitchen.

you wait until you smell breakfast, then you get up and follow the scent out to his kitchen island.

he doesn't ask if you're hungry. he just plates your food and sets it in front of you without a second thought.

you steal sips from his juice between bites, and he lets you, just watching, amused, eyes flicking toward you over the rim of his glass.

soft touches happen naturally, thoughtlessly.

his palm finds the small of your back when he moves past you, warm and steady.

your fingers brush when you both reach for the same thing.

his knuckles graze your thigh when he leans back against the counter.

none of it feels unfamiliar.

you stay longer than you expected to. he doesn't call you out on it.

the goodbye is unserious, drawn out in a way that makes it obvious neither of you is in a rush.

"try not to miss me too much," you tease, pulling on your shoes with a grin.

he smiles, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. "oh, i will."

his tone is playful, but something about the way he says them makes you hesitate, just for a second.

and as you step out, just before it closes behind you, he calls after you.

"i'll be thinking about you, y'know."

tags (ongoing): @moonchhu @httpstoyosi @lavnder311 @harryzcherry @perkypeony @katecupcakekate @hellicify @oh-my-god-donald @jupiterbinnie @i88b0nten @satxoru @chuuminn @moncher-ire @r0ckst4rjk @flwerie @raendarkfaerie @pinksdump @blkmystery @pearlessance @satoruxsc

[slut4hee]

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

{Paring: Subscriber Jake Sim x OF Model Blk Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, cyber sex, onlyfans au, Jake’s a college student, 18+ so mdni).

{Synopsis: In which jake has found himself addicted to getting off by watching ebony porn, but ever since he’s stumbled upon your OF account, he’s become your number one supporter.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, video call sex, fingering, jerking off, dirty talk, usage of toys, body worshipping, Jake likes to be praised, ass lover Jake, lmk if I missed anything too lazy.

—————————————————————————

Jake was hooked, ever since he came across your post on twitter promoting your onlyfans account, he’s been draining his pockets on you every single week. He legit spoils you, from sending you cute little outfits he wants to see you wear on your streams, and all types of toys for you to play with yourself, while he abuses his dick until he can’t go on anymore.

Jake can remember the first time he ever watched Ebony porn, he was painfully hard scrolling through different porn sites, just trying to find that one good flick that would relieve all his stress from work. His usual search browser consisted of hentai porno, and of course Asian girls. But that night, he stumbled across a video titled “Big Booty Ebony girl gets pounded into mattress”.

He bit down on his bottom lip nervously, he was so hesitant at first, because of what background he comes from and out of fear of being judged by his friends and family. But Jake couldn’t resist the undying twitch in his pants, he couldn’t lie and say his cock wasn’t getting harder, as he stared at the erotic thumbnail of the video.

Finally he stopped hesitating and clicked on the video, and fuck was it the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He watched so intently while pumping his cock furiously, it was the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life. Ever since then, it’s the only porno he can get off to, saving various videos and pictures of Black pornstar models.

//

Jake tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently, watching as customer after customer flooded into the comic store. He had 10 minutes left in his shift, which was feeling like forever. He tried not to show his irritation towards the customer, checking his watch every second he could, his coworker was running late like always he was over it.

Thankfully his coworker finally walked through the door, yawning dramatically, as he greeted Jake. Jake simply nodded real quick, rushing from behind the counter to get to the time clock. You’re probably wondering why Jake is rushing to get back to his apartment, well, recently you hosted a raffle for a chance to have a private video call session, for your dear subscribers.

The rules were simple, never miss a single one of your streams, endless gifting, and last but not least, a picture of a dick that’s bigger than 6 inches. Lucky for Jake, he never misses your streams, always being the first person to join, gifting you almost everything off your wishlist, and not to brag, but Jake had a cock of 8inches.

It was no surprise that Jake had won, but it was still so shocking to see a dm from none other then yourself. His heart racing as he read your message, announcing that he had won the video call session, and setting up a date and time.

He then made it to his apartment, the familiar smell of his once burning candle welcomed him back.

He quickly kicked off his shoes, dropping his backpack on the couch, and making his way upstairs to his bedroom. His dick was already throbbing in his pants, as the dirty thoughts of tonight’s affairs clouded his mind.

He took a nice hot shower, shaving his pubic hair, to make sure he’s nice and smooth for you. It almost felt like he was getting ready for a date, spraying on cologne as if you could smell it through the screen, and making sure his hair looked presentable.

//

Jake laid in his bed, only wearing his boxers, with his laptop in front of him. You had sent him a dm, asking if he was ready to start the video call, Jake was so nervous but aroused at the same time. Finally a notification of an incoming video call popped up on Jake’s computer screen, causing him to jump at the ringing sound.

He touched up his hair a little before answering the call. His jaw dropped when he took in the sight of you sitting at your usual desk setup, your room covered in pink and white. You were just so beautiful, you were clad in a pink bikini bra, a pink thong, and your hair was braided in pink and black braids.

He just stared at you in awe, too stunned to speak, as he started to drool from the mouth. Finally your sweet voice knocked him out of his trance, his heart racing like crazy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Simjaeyun1115, I’ve been excited all day for our special session” You smiled at him, twirling the ends of your braids, as you enjoy the view of Jaeyun. Honestly you were thinking that he was probably some old guy, hiding behind the screen, being that Jaeyun didn’t have a profile picture. What you weren’t expecting was Jake to be this fucking sexy, his silky black hair falling down his face nicely, his slim yet toned physique pleasing to the eye, and he has a fucking Australian accent?!

“Hi Y/n, y-you’re so pretty wow I- wow” He tripped over his words, running his hands through his hair, biting his lip because he was so distracted by your beautiful body in the camera, you made him shit nervous. You giggled at his nervous expression, smirking and biting your lip as well, he was so freaking cute.

“How was your day Jaeyun?” You inquired, getting close to the camera and adjusting the too little bra that’s barely holding your tits in. Jake eyes followed, swallowing hard before answering your question, he was surprised you even cared about his day and he couldn’t lie and say that didn’t give him butterflies.

“My day was good, just went to class and work, that’s pretty much it” He nodded, licking his lips as he goes from staring at your pretty face, to your soft looking plush thighs. You giggled again, before putting your hands on your boobs.

“Do you like my boobies Jaeyun?, is that why you can’t pay attention to anything I’m saying?” You purr seductively, rubbing and fondling your own tits. Jake’s breath hitched, his cock jumping at the action, fuck you were his guilty pleasure.

“Y-Yes I do, s-sorry it’s just like, you’re so goddamn sexy and I’ve been waiting for this moment since I found your account and- Fuck I sound like a desperate loser I’m sorry” He rambled, nervously looking away and running his hands through his fluffy hair. You cooed at his shy expression, blowing a kiss at him through the screen.

“No need to apologize baby boy, I like your desperation so much, it’s my favorite thing in the world” You said softly, playing with your nipples as you let out little sighs of pleasure.

“Also you can call me Jake, if you don’t mind, I mean Jaeyun is my real name but I go by Jake- I’m rambling haha” He nervously laughed, adjusting his position on the bed, letting you get a peak of his boner straining through his gray boxers. You moaned out loud at the sight of it, his big bulge making your mouth water.

“Damn Jakey, you really do have a big cock, at first I thought the picture was photoshopped, but you really are packing” You said kinda in disbelief, feeling yourself growing wet in your panties. Jake’s face became beet red, nodding and swallowing hard, as your words went straight to his dick.

“Are you ready to play with me baby?” You smirked, unraveling the tie of your bikini bra, your boobs bouncing free. Jake let out a pathetic gasp, squeezing on his hard cock through his boxers, as if he’s trying to tame it.

“Fuck they’re so big, wanna suck on your pretty brown erect nipples so bad baby” He groaned, palming himself, as he watched you bounce your tits up and down in front of the camera, you know he loves when you do that.

“Would you squeeze them too baby? Would you rub and tease my sensitive nipples between your fingertips hm?” You moaned, sticking your fingers inside your mouth, as your other hand rubbed your wet pussy through your panties.

“Fuck yeah baby, I’ll suck on them, abuse those cute little nips of yours” He smirked, biting his lips, his Aussie accent was so strong and sexy fuck he was turning you on so much.

“Take your dick out please, wanna see it so badly” You purr, already lifting your body up from the chair and taking off your pink thong, a string of your clear sticky arousal following behind. Jake looked at you with hazy hooded eyes, as he lifted his body from the mattress, tugging his boxers down, his hard cock spring free with precum dripping from his pink slit.

“Such a pretty fucking cock, shit wanna suck the life out of you Jakey” You whined, his cock looked so firm, standing tall and proud, as it twitched at your praise. He smeared the precum that stained his mushroom tip, using it as lubrication and stroking his base.

“Would you suck it nice and slowly? Or would you deep throat and make it really messy for me” He asked, groaning as he stroked his cock at a slow pace, making sure not to overdo it or he would blow his load too quickly.

“I like to give messy head, lots of spit, I like my throat fucked daddy” You whined, spreading your legs open, exposing your glistening pussy to his eyes to feast on. Jake sped up his movements slightly, curses falling under his breath, as took in the sinful sight of your melaninated pussy on display for him.

“Shittt, look at that pretty little pussy, god she’s so wet, I can tell you want this just as much as I do darling” He whined, his breathing becoming harsher, as he edges himself from coming undone. You stood up from the chair disappearing from the camera, Jake frowned and pouted, asking where did you go. You came back into frame, your full nude body in the camera as you held something behind your back.

“What are you hiding princess, show me” He moaned, halting his movements as he waits for you to show him what you’re hiding.

“I got something special for you today my love” You smiled, before pulling what’s behind your back, and showing it to the camera. It was 8inch dildo, it looked exactly like Jake’s, the tip pink with veins running down the sides of it.

“Fuck baby, is that supposed to be my dick?” He said breathless, stroking himself again, as he imagines how you’re going to fuck yourself with the dildo. You nodded, biting your lip as you centered the toy on the chair.

“I searched all around to find a cock that looked identical to yours, I was able to find the perfect one online. Just wanted to make it as realistic as possible” You moaned, as you sat back down on the chair, lifting your legs and spreading them wide.

“That’s so damn hot babe, can’t wait to see you stretch that tight little cunt out” He grunted, squeezing his balls and smearing more precum on his tip that leaks out.

“How do you want me to fuck myself Jakey?” You smiled mischievously at him, playing with your boobs again.

“Want you to fuck yourself reverse cowgirl, I want to see your ass bouncing on it” He said through gritted teeth, sitting up straighter, as he leaned his back on the headboard.

“That’s your favorite huh? You like to see my fat ass bouncing on cock baby boy?” You turned your body around, your plump ass now facing the camera, as you smacked your own asscheek. Jake whined, begging for you to stop teasing and make him cum already.

You started to play with your pussy, rubbing little circles on your puffy clit. Jake watched you so intensely, his cock so stiff and wet.

“Spread that pussy open for me beautiful, I wanna see how tight she is” He said, licking his lips that’s now going dry, sweat drips down his forehead and his room now feels hot and stuffy. You obliged immediately, spreading open your slippery folds, showing off your pretty pussy.

Jake almost busted his nut, your brown pussy lips with pink inner shell, had him holding his breath. You slid two fingers inside your tight cunt, prepping yourself to take the 8inch toy. The squelching sound of your fingers penetrating your pussy, comes through Jake’s computer, He whined at the filthy sound.

“Come on baby no more teasing please, I need to see you riding my cock now” He begged, eyes wide and lust clouded. You nodded frantically, obeying his commands, you lined your hole up with the tip of the dildo, making sure you’re looking back at the camera as you start to slowly sink down on it.

You let out a little squeak, the thick mushroom tip breaching your tight little hole. Jake’s shoots worlds of praise and encouragement towards you, calling you a “good girl” or “you can take it sweetheart”.

“Oh my, oh fuck so big shit” You whined, your lips already quivering from the intense stretch. Jake chuckles softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“Sit all the way down on it babe, if I was actually there right now I won’t be nice to you I’ll make you feel it” Jake smirked, as he watched you slowly sit all the way down, letting out a pained moan. You stayed still, as you let yourself adjust to the size of it, your chest heaving up and down.

Finally the pain turned into pleasure, as you start to rock your hips back and forth slowly.

“Ahh shittt Jake, you’re so deep inside me oh my god” You screamed out, looking back at him, as you fastened your movements. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, throwing his head back as he matches your pace stroking his heavy length.

“Hell yeah baby girl, take that fucking dick just like that” Jake moaned loudly, his voice husky and deep with ecstasy. You adjusted your position, getting into a squatting position, as you started to bounce on the toy faster. The feeling of the dildo reaching so deep inside your guts, touching your cervix had you crying out loud, chanting Jake’s name like a mantra.

“Jake Jake, oh god Jake your cock feels so good, please don’t stop” You whined, feeling your stomach tightening, drool dripping from your mouth.

“Fuuuck that’s it, feels good huh? Like how I’m deep inside that kitty baby? Spread your asscheeks open for me I wanna see that little pussy being torn apart” He sighed in pleasure, pumping his cock at an almost inhuman speed. You bit your bottom lip, spreading both asscheeks apart, a ring of your creamy arousal coated on the base of the dildo.

Jake let out a pathetic whine, feeling himself getting painfully close to his breaking point, he had been edging himself for quite some time now, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“God baby, I’m close I’m close, need you to cum with me okay?” He panted, his strong accent pushing to the edge. You were already dangerously close as well, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. You reach down between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast circular motions, pushing yourself to the edge.

“JAKE! I’m gonna cum oh shit I’m gonna fucking cum” You cried out, a sudden wave of pleasure coursing through your body, as you came hard around the dildo, your creamy sticky essence, dripping down the sides of the cock. Jake followed right behind you, releasing a guttural moan, shooting thick spurts of white cum, making a mess of himself.

You both path heavily, trying to catch each other’s breath from the intense orgasms. You whined out of sensitivity, your legs trembling as you slowly pulled off of the toy, collapsing in the chair. Jake looked at you with drowsy hooded eyes, smiling at you like a lovesick idiot.

“That was the best nut i ever had in my life” Jake murmured, his body feeling weak and limp. You nodded in agreement, smiling like a lovesick fool as well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard with anyone else but you Jakey” You giggled, wiping the wet off your forehead and getting closer to the camera.

“Does that mean I have chance for another video call?” He smirked.

“Fuck a video call, how would you like to meet up?” You winked.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖤𝗇𝖽…

A/n: Gir- I- he’s so hot I’m sorry no words no words I absolutely enjoyed writing this bc wtf he’s so damn sexy😤 but I hope you guys like it! Reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated🫶🏽 not proofreading shii homegirl😀

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Cotton Candy

MDNI!!!

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to my bby girl @ethanhoewke! Ily mwa <3 as always, beta read by @teaflavoredwitch. Bucky Barnes x female reader, established relationship, PORN, p in v sex, blow job, oral fixation, finger sucking, biting, choking, unprotected sex, size kink, praise kink, hair pulling, lingerie, slow dancing, light dom/sub, gentle dom Bucky, sweet & fluffy, boyfriend Bucky, TFATWS Bucky

My 200 follower fic raffle is going on here!

Word count: 9.2k

“Hi Bucky,” You chirp sweetly as his front door swings open, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You looked up at Bucky, your eyes sparkling with excitement and nervous anticipation. The pink fabric of your dress swished around your thighs and hugged your body like it was made just for you. You tried your best to look perfect for your first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, hair done in that style you know he likes, minimal makeup only to accentuate your natural beauty. Bucky always had a way of making you feel like the prettiest woman in the world, even when you had food poisoning and he came over to take care of you. And tonight, you hoped it would be your first time sleeping with Bucky, so you felt the need to go the extra mile.

Bucky couldn't help but let his eyes roam appreciatively over your figure as he stood there, taking in every curve of your body draped in that soft, pretty pink dress. The color suited you perfectly, bringing a rosy glow to your cheeks and a sparkle to your eyes that made his heart do funny things in his chest. He had to remind himself to close his mouth, snapping it shut as he met your shy gaze. A slow, warm smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Well, don't you look like a dream come true," he murmured, his deep voice soft and slightly rough, like velvet wrapped in sandpaper. He stepped closer, reaching out to take your hand, his calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin as he brought it to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

He lingered for a moment, his lips still pressed against your hand, before he reluctantly let it go. The scent of your perfume, something sweet like vanilla, filled his nose and made him want to pull you closer. But he resisted, knowing he had to take this slow. He wanted tonight to be perfect for you.

Bucky stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. As you crossed the threshold, he couldn't help but admire the sway of your hips, the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves in all the right places. He swallowed hard, feeling a familiar heat pooling in his gut. But he pushed those thoughts aside, wanting to focus on making this a night you’d never forget.

Once inside, Bucky took your coat, hanging it up in the closet before turning back to you with a soft smile. The apartment was dimly lit, candles flickering on every surface, casting a warm glow over everything. Soft jazz music played softly in the background, the kind of music he knew you loved. He had even gone out of his way to dig his record player and collection of vintage vinyl records out of storage to set the mood.

But the real piece de resistance was the table set up in the living room. A white tablecloth draped over a small, round table, with two place settings, complete with fine china and crystal glassware. A bucket of ice chilled a bottle of champagne, while a single red rose tucked into a vase in the center of the table. The scent of Italian food wafted from the kitchen, the aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air.

Bucky watched as you took in the scene, your eyes widening in surprise and delight. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, knowing that he had done all of this for you. It may not have been much, but it was a start. A promise of so much more to come.

"I wanted tonight to be special," he explained softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. "I know we’ve only been dating for a little while but I really like you and I wanted to give you a reason to smile. To remind you that you deserve to be cherished and adored." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "And I want to be the one to do that. I want to be the one to make you feel loved, babygirl."

His voice was low and rough with emotion, a raw honesty to his words that sent a shiver down your spine. He could feel the way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat. It spurred him on, made him want to do so much more. He wanted to worship every inch of your body, to show you exactly what you meant to him.

But he knew he had to take this slow. Knew that he had to let you set the pace, to make sure you were ready for this step. So he pulled back slightly, his hand falling away from your cheek as he looked down at you with a soft, tender smile.

“What do you say we have dinner first, huh? Then maybe we can cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, see where the night takes us?" He smirked, a playful glint in his blue eyes as he held out his hand for you to take. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior. At least until after dessert." He winked, trying to keep the mood light and teasing, even as a heady promise lingered beneath his words.

He knew what he wanted tonight to end with. Knew that he wanted to make love to you, to show you the depths of his feelings and the commitment he was willing to make to you.

A huge smile spread across your lips, making your nose crinkle slightly. You brought a hand up to your chest, clasping it over your heart as if to contain the fluttery feeling growing there.

“Wow," You breathed out happily, "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, Bucky! I can't believe you did all of this for little old me." Your voice was filled with genuine awe and appreciation, a light blush blooming across your cheeks.

You did a slow turn, taking in every detail - the flickering candles casting a warm glow, the record player spinning a vinyl, the table set for romance with the finest china and crystal. The aroma of Italian cuisine teased your nose, making your stomach rumble softly. You felt like a princess in a fairy tale, and Bucky was your dashing prince. You turned back to face him, looking up at him, your eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy.

"Bucky, this is...I don't even have words. It's like a dream come true," You murmured, reaching out to take his hand. Your fingers trembled slightly as they entwined with his much larger, calloused ones. You could feel the heat and strength of his touch, and it made your heart race in anticipation. And in that moment, standing there in his apartment, you had never looked more beautiful to him.

You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to Bucky's cheek, your lips soft and warm and tempting. When you pulled back, you smiled up at him shyly, a newfound confidence and hunger burning in your eyes. Bucky couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and satisfaction as he watched you take in the romantic scene he had so carefully crafted just for you. The way your eyes widened in awe and your cheeks flushed a soft, rosy hue was all the confirmation he needed to know that he had done something special. Something right.

When you turned to face him, your hand reaching out to take his, Bucky felt a jolt of electricity course through his body at your touch. Your fingers were so small and delicate in comparison to his calloused, work-roughened hand. He could have easily crushed them, but instead, he held them gently, reverently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world to him.

And in that moment, they were. You were.

Bucky listened as you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a genuine enthusiasm that made his heart swell in his chest. He had done this for you. He had gone above and beyond to make you feel cherished and special, and the fact that it had worked only served to encourage him further.

But then you leaned in, your lips brushing against his cheek in the softest of kisses. And Bucky felt like he had been struck by lightning. His skin tingled where your lips had touched, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the heat of the candles or the fireplace crackling in the corner.

He looked down at you, his blue eyes darkening with a hunger that was harder to ignore. The way you gazed up at him, your eyes filled with a myriad of emotions, made something aching and raw stir deep within him. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that you were his. That he would do anything, absolutely anything, to keep you by his side.

Bucky knew he should probably say something, should probably try to be charming and witty, to keep the mood light and playful. But all he could think about was the way your lips felt against his skin, and the way your body had felt pressed up against his. He wanted to touch you, to explore every curve and dip and hollow of your body until he had committed it all to memory.

Instead, he raised your hand to his lips, pressing another kiss to your knuckles that lingered perhaps a little too long. He could smell the scent of your perfume, it made his head swim with desire. It was a scent that he knew he would forever associate with you, with happiness and contentment and a feeling of coming home.

"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Because you deserve to be treated like a queen. You deserve to be worshipped and adored and cherished in every way possible."

He let your hand go reluctantly, but only so that he could wrap his arm around your waist and pull you flush against him. He could feel the warmth of your flesh, the soft give of your tummy, the flare of your hips. It made him want to groan out loud, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and just breathe you in.

But he didn't. Instead, he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of your cheek. He traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your throat, the delicate arch of your eyebrow. He committed every detail to memory, knowing that he would need to draw on these memories in the dark, lonely nights when you were not by his side.

You glanced up at him with a playful smirk, eyes sparkling with mirth, you tilted your head to the side, "I must say, Sergeant Barnes, I'm really am amazed by all of this..." You hummed, gesturing around at the candlelit table and the romantic ambiance. "I didn't realize you had it in you to be such a hopeless romantic. So tell me, did you slave away all day in the kitchen to whip up this feast?" You teased, batting your long lashes at him flirtatiously.

Bucky chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that rumbled in his chest and made your toes curl in your pretty shoes. He shook his head, his brown hair falling across his forehead in a way that made him look even more handsome if that was possible. At the same time, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers splaying across your skin and giving you a little squeeze, a gentle reminder of how strong he was.

"Nah, doll. I may be many things, but a gourmet chef ain't one of them," he said with a smirk and a wink. "I ordered from that fancy Italian place downtown. The one with the red and white checkered tablecloths and the old guy who keeps trying to sell you wine and take you on a date."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But don't you worry, babygirl. I made sure to get one of everything on the menu. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you, so I pulled out all the stops." With that, he took your hand and led you towards the dining table. He pulled out your chair for you like the gentleman he was, waiting for you to take your seat before pushing it back in and leaning down to press a lingering kiss to the shell of your ear.

"I hope you're hungry, sweetheart. Because I plan on feeding you until you're stuffed. Then, if you're still hungry after that..." His voice dropped to a low, husky tone as he nipped lightly at your earlobe. "Well, I might have a few more ideas on how to satisfy your appetite."

He straightened up and walked around the table to take his own seat across from you. As he sat down, he grabbed the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and popped the cork, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet of the apartment. He poured the bubbly liquid into your glass, the golden color catching the flickering light of the candles, before filling his own glass.

He raised his glass in your direction, a slow, roguish smile spreading across his handsome face. "To us, babygirl. To the start of something amazing."

He clinked his glass against yours, the sound ringing out like a promise, a vow. His blue eyes never left yours as he brought the glass to his lips and took a long, slow sip. He swallowed, his throat working with the motion, before setting the glass back down on the table. Then, he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the soft strains of jazz music filling the air. 

A moment later, he returned with two plates piled high with food - pasta, pizza, calzones, garlic bread, the works. He set a plate down in front of you before taking his own seat, looking at you with a proud, almost smug smile. "There you go, doll. Eat up now. You're gonna need your energy for later." He winked, his voice a low, wicked promise as he reached for his fork and knife. "And don't worry, babygirl. I'll make sure you get dessert later...no matter what it takes."

He smirked, a dark glint in his blue eyes as he cut into the pasta, the fork and knife screeching against the fine china. Then, he brought the fork to his mouth and took a bite, his eyes never leaving yours as he chewed, savored, and swallowed. All the while, his gaze remained locked with yours, a silent conversation passing between you. A conversation of unspoken words and unspoken desires, of promises and expectations and a hunger that had nothing to do with the food in front of you.

You ate your food languidly, taking small, savoring bites. You closed your eyes, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rich, buttery flavors exploded on your tongue - the crispy garlic bread, the creamy risotto, the tangy red sauce. Each morsel was a taste of heaven, a sensual indulgence. You could feel the warmth of the champagne tingling in your chest, bubbling through your veins.

You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, relishing the crisp effervescence that danced on your tongue and slid down your throat with a satisfying smoothness. The alcohol buzzed lightly in your head, heightening your senses, making every touch and taste and sound feel amplified, “I’m surprised by all this. You’re so quiet and broody, I didn’t realize you were so suave, Sergeant Barnes,” You tease, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system.

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, a rich, heartfelt sound that filled the room and made your chest feel warm and fluttery. He shook his head, as he looked at you with a rueful smile. "Quiet and broody, huh?" he said, arching one dark eyebrow. "I guess I can see how you might think that, doll. I ain't exactly known for my silver tongue and charm."

He reached across the table to take your hand, his calloused fingers brushing against your soft skin and sending a shiver running up your arm. He brought your hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles. "But for you, sweetheart, I'm willing to learn. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel special. To make you feel cherished and worshipped and like the angel you are."

He turned your hand over in his, his thumb tracing the lines of your palm in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. His touch was firm and sure, the touch of a soldier who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. "I never realized that a romantic gesture could feel so good," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sounded like it was meant only for your ears. "But with you, it's different. Everything feels different. It's like I'm seeing the world through a whole new set of eyes."

He lifted your hand to his cheek, holding it against the stubble that darkened his jawline. He closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing you in, your scent and your warmth and the feeling of your skin against his. "And maybe it's too soon to say this, but fuck, doll...I think I'm falling in love with you. I think I'm falling in love with everything about you, from the way your mind works to the way your body moves to the way your fucking soul shines out of your eyes."

He opened his eyes to look at you, his gaze intense and burning with a fierceness that made your heart race and your toes curl. There was a vulnerability in his expression that you hadn't seen before, a raw and naked emotion that made you want to reach out and pull him close and never let him go. But instead, you just looked at him, your own eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness and gratitude. Your heart felt so full that you thought it might burst, so stuffed with affection and adoration and a feeling of belonging that you never wanted to let go. Bucky must have seen the way your eyes glistened with emotion, because he smiled softly and brushed his thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear before it could fall.

"Hey, sweetheart...no crying now," he said, his voice low and gentle and filled with care. "Tonight's supposed to be a happy occasion, yeah? So why don't you give me that pretty smile of yours, and let me take care of everything else?"

You gazed up at Bucky with tear-filled eyes, your pouty lips curled into a radiant, trembling smile. You licked your lips nervously, tasting the salt of your tears and the sweetness of the champagne on your tongue. Your voice was a breathy, delighted whisper as you spoke, "Oh, Bucky...I thought it was just me. I never dreamed you felt the same way. But hearing you say it..." A single tear slipped down your soft, flushed cheek, glistening in the candlelight. "I'm falling for you too. Hard. So hard it scares me sometimes."

You reached up with a shaking hand to cup Bucky's stubbled cheek, your fingers trembling slightly as you traced his strong jawline. Your heart raced in your chest, pounding against your ribs like a drumbeat of desire and anticipation. "I'm not usually one for grand gestures or fancy words, but this...you...it's everything. It's more than everything. It's like you see me in a way no one else ever has, like you understand every part of me, inside and out."

Your voice hitched on a sob, but you pressed on, unable to hold back the words any longer. "I want to give myself to you, all of myself. Body, heart, and soul. I want to be yours, completely and totally. Forever and always."

You leaned in closer, until your lips were a mere breath away from Bucky's. "So please, kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it, like you want to devour me whole. Kiss me like you'll never stop, because I don't think I can bear to live without your lips on mine for even a moment longer."

With that, you closed your eyes and parted your lips, a silent plea and a promise all in one. You were offering yourself to him, completely and wholly. 

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at you, his heart swelling with a fierce, all-consuming love that threatened to overwhelm him. He had felt many things in his long life - hunger, pain, rage, sorrow, guilt...but this feeling, this overwhelming tenderness and devotion, was something entirely new and terrifying in its intensity.

He saw the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, the way your bottom lip trembled with emotion and anticipation. He heard the breathy whisper of your voice, the hitch in your throat as you poured out your heart to him. And he knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that you were offering him everything. Everything you had, everything you were, everything you could ever hope to be.

And god, he wanted it. He wanted to take it all, to grab it with both hands and hold it close and never, ever let it go. He wanted to possess you, to claim you, to make you his in every way possible. But most of all, he wanted to cherish you. To worship you and adore you and love you with every fiber of his being, for as long as he lived and drew breath.

So when you leaned in, your lips parting in a silent plea, Bucky didn't hesitate. He closed the scant distance between you, his mouth coming down on yours in a kiss that was hungry and desperate and full of a need that bordered on rabid. He kissed you like a drowning man seeking air, his lips moving over yours with a fierce, almost bruising intensity. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth scraping against the tender flesh before soothing it with his tongue. He licked into your mouth, his tongue delving deep to taste the sweet champagne and the salt of your tears, the unique flavor that was purely, uniquely you.

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through the soft curls of your hair. He gripped the strands tight, holding you in place as he angled your head to deepen the kiss, to plunder your mouth with a single-minded purpose. He kissed you until you were breathless, until your lungs burned for air and your head spun with the force of it. He kissed you until he felt your knees buckle, until he had to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you upright, to pull you flush against him.

And even then, he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Because now that he had tasted paradise, now that he had held heaven in his arms...he knew he would never be able to let you go. He broke the kiss only when absolutely necessary, when the need for air became too great to ignore. As he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps that matched your own.

"Fuck, doll..." he rasped, his voice a low, guttural growl that sent shivers down your spine. "I never...I mean, I don't...I can't..."

He swallowed hard, his throat working with the effort of trying to find the right words. But there were no words, not for a feeling this big, this all-encompassing. So he just held you tighter, pulling you so close that you could feel the pounding of his heart against your own.

"I love you," he said finally, the words a vow and a promise and a statement of fact all rolled into one. "I fucking love you so much, babygirl. More than anything in this goddamn world."

He kissed you again then, softer this time, slower. A kiss full of tenderness and care and a quiet, steady devotion. A kiss that said 'I'm yours, forever and always, no matter what.'

You smile into the kiss, giggling breathlessly as you melt into Bucky's strong arms. After a moment, you feel him begin to sway, and realize he's leading you in a slow dance, moving in time to the soft jazz music playing on the record player. Pressing closer, you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. You can feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, the firmness of his muscles, the cool metal ridge of his dog tags. It makes you feel so small and delicate, so protected and cherished.

As you dance, you let your fingers walk playfully up his chest, feeling the contours and dips. You tilt your head to look up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief and adoration. "You're such a sap, aren't you Sergeant Barnes?" You tease softly, a pretty blush coloring your cheeks. "I never would've guessed you had these kinds of moves."

Bucky just smirks and spins you out, before pulling you back in close, fitting your soft curves against his hard planes. "I got many moves, doll. Haven't even scratched the surface yet."

You shudder at the promise in his voice, a thrill running through you. Your breasts press against him as you slip your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his dark hair. As you sway, you can't help but feel like you’re living in a dream. Or maybe, a fairytale. It's hard to believe that a man like Bucky, so strong, so fierce, once so scary...could love you. But the way he holds you, touches you, kisses you...tells you he means it.

"Take me to bed, Bucky," You breathe against his neck, nipping at his ear. "Please...I need you." Your voice is soft, almost pleading. But there's a strength in it too. A sureness, a knowing. You know what you want. And you want him.

Bucky felt a shudder run through him at your breathy plea, your words igniting a fire in his blood that he couldn't ignore. He had been holding himself back, determined to make this night perfect for you, to show you the depth of his feelings and his commitment to you. But now, with the feel of your soft curves pressed so deliciously against him, your fingers playing in his hair and your lips brushing against his ear...fuck. He was done waiting.

In one swift, smooth motion, he swept you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he strode purposefully towards the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him, not wanting any interruptions, any distractions, as he laid you down gently on the plush comforter. He stood over you for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you - your hair spreading out around your head like a halo, your cheeks flushed and your lips kiss-swollen, your chest heaving with anticipation. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one to reveal the expanse of his tanned, muscular chest. His vibranium arm gleamed in the low light, a testament to his past, but his other hand was soft and sure as it pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. His dog tags hung proudly from his neck, causing a small small smile to grace your lips. Bucky’s pants quickly join the pile of clothes on the floor, earning a blush from you. This is the most you’ve seen him undressed during your relationship and the sight goes straight to your cunt, gooey and slick and hot. He climbs onto the bed, covering your body with his own, the heat of his skin seeping into yours. He brushed your hair back from your face, his fingers tracing the delicate line of your jaw, the soft swell of your bottom lip.

"I want to take my time with you, babygirl," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I want to worship every inch of this gorgeous body of yours, to make you feel so, so good."

He dipped his head to press a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point and making you gasp. He paused for a moment, just looking at you in the candlelight, his eyes dark and hungry as they took in the sight of you beneath him in your dress. "Fuck, doll," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You're so goddamn beautiful. I can't believe you're really here, that you're really mine."

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as he slowly peeled your dress off your body, revealing the luscious curves that lay beneath. As the fabric slipped away, he beheld a vision that made his heart stutter and his cock jump to attention. You lay before him, clad in a sinful scrap of maroon lace and satin that clung to every generous curve. The teddy cupped and lifted your ample breasts, the delicate lace barely containing their full, rounded shape. Rosy nipples peaked prominently through the thin fabric, begging to be tasted and teased. His gaze drifted down the sweetheart neckline to your nipped-in waist and the flare of your hips. The lingerie hugged the swell of your ass, the lace disappearing between the tempting globes.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed, his voice a guttural rasp. "babygirl, that...fuck. You're a goddamn knockout."

He ran a calloused hand reverently over the swell of your breast, feeling the way your nipple pebbled at his touch. Hooking a finger under the lace, he slowly, torturously dragged it down, watching your skin flush and your chest heave with anticipation. His other hand traced the dip and curve of your waist, the flare of your hip, before gripping the generous flesh of your ass. He squeezed, relishing the way it yielded to his touch, before suddenly flipping you onto your stomach.

“Wait, wait,” You whisper, feeling far more bold than usual. Perhaps it’s the champagne, perhaps it’s the way Bucky makes you feel like the most precious thing in the world. You want to return the feeling tenfold, so you lick your lips and sit up slowly in the center of the mattress, “I…I want to do something for you. Switch spots with me, here, sit on the edge of the bed.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at your sudden boldness, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He had never seen this side of you before, this tantalizing glimmer of mischief and desire. It made his blood run hot and his cock twitch with anticipation. But he was nothing if not accommodating, especially to his beloved girl. So he sat back on his heels, watching you with a hungry, appreciative gaze as you sat up and patted the space in front of you. He moved to comply, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, his naked chest on full display. The candlelight flickered over the hard planes and angles, casting shadows that danced across his skin. He looked like a god, all power and strength and raw, masculine beauty.

You settle between his powerful thighs, the heat of his skin seeping into yours as you kneel before him. Catching his gaze with your own, you press your cheek against the firm muscle of his thigh, feeling the strength that lies beneath. Your fingers dance along the metallic surface of his vibranium hand, tracing the cool, hard ridges and grooves.

You bring his metal fingers to your soft, spit-slick lips, brushing them back and forth until you reach his thumb. Maintaining eye contact,you part your lips and draw his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth, suckling gently at first before increasing the pressure. Your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the cool metal as you hold his captivated gaze.

Your other hand slowly, teasingly runs up his muscular calf, nails lightly scraping over his skin. You can feel the coarseness of his leg hair beneath your fingertips, the strength of his leg muscles flexing slightly in response to your touch. Higher and higher your hand roams, not stopping until you reach the thick, heavy length of his cock. You wrap your fingers around it, feeling it throb against your palm, already hard and ready, all because of you.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as your soft, warm lips closed around his thumb, your tongue swirling and teasing the cool vibranium. He had felt many things in his life, but the sensation of your mouth on his metal hand was unlike anything he had experienced before - electric, intense, and fucking incredible. He watched, mesmerized, as you slowly pumped his thick, hard cock with your small, delicate hand. The contrast of your soft, flushed skin against his own weathered, tanned flesh was erotic as hell, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to grab you, pin you down under him, and rail you into oblivion.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and fisted his hand in the bed sheets beneath him, fighting the urge to take control. He wanted to let you lead this, wanted to see what you would do, wanted to feel your passion and your hunger. But fuck if it wasn't the hardest thing he had ever done, holding himself back when every instinct screamed at him to take, to possess, to fucking ruin you with pleasure. He swallowed hard and forced himself to ask, his voice a low, strangled growl, "Is that how you want to use your mouth, babygirl? Because if you keep that up, I’m worried I won’t last long.”

Bucky shuddered as your soft, slick lips peppered playful kisses along each of his metal fingers, the sensation electric even through the material. He clenched his organic fist, knuckles white, as your attention turned to his aching cock. There was no warning, no hesitation, just the immediate heat of your eager mouth engulfing him.

"Ohhhh fuck," he groaned, head falling back as your lips wrapped around his thick girth and your tongue flicked out to tease the sensitive underside. His hips jerked reflexively, fighting the urge to thrust into the welcome warmth. Bucky squirmed as he felt your free hand roaming boldly over his muscular thigh, your blunt nails scraping deliciously across his skin. He flexed involuntarily, groaning low in his throat. But then your fingers found his cloth-covered balls and he nearly punched through the mattress as a bolt of pure lust shot through him. The contrast of your softness and his aching, swollen flesh was dizzying and he fisted a hand in your hair to anchor himself.

"It's...oh god, babygirl, your mouth feels...fuck...so damn good," he panted, iron will battling the instinct to grab your hair and fuck your face until he spilled down your throat. "If you keep that up, can't...Christ...can't promise I'll last."

Bucky’s reaction spurs you on, so you whine, batting your lashes in silent communication. You scoot forward, impossibly closer and take even more of his rigid length into your mouth, drool leaking out around it and dripping down your chin.

Bucky let out a low, feral growl as he felt your lips stretch around his thick, throbbing cock. The wet heat of your mouth was incredible, your tongue like velvet as it teased and stroked along the sensitive flesh. He could feel every flick, every swirl, every dip and curve of the velvety muscle as it explored his shaft. His grip tightened in your hair, his metal hand flexing and tensing as he fought the urge to take control, to fuck your pretty face until tears streamed down your cheeks and you choked and sputtered around his thick cock. He could feel the desperation building in his balls, the ache of impending release coiling hot and tight in his belly. Fuck, he had never been this turned on in his life, never felt a hunger this primal, this consuming. But goddamn if he wasn't determined to make this good for you too. Determined to worship your heavenly  body, to make you scream and shake and come undone all over his cock.

He tugged gently on your hair, urging you off his shaft with a hiss of regret. "Babygirl, wait..." he growled, voice strained and ragged. "I...fuck, I need to taste you too. Need to make you feel good, sweetheart."

He pulled you up his body, his bionic arm wrapping around your waist to crush you against his muscular chest. His mouth found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep to claim your mouth, to fuck your face the way he ached to fuck your other holes. He kissed you until you were breathless and clinging to his broad shoulders, until your panties were soaked through and your cunt was clenching around nothing. Then he flipped you onto your back and settled his hard, muscular body between your softer, curvier one. He looked down at you with hot, hungry eyes that blazed with lust and adoration.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you," he rasped, his weight pressing down on you, pinning you to the mattress. "Need to feel this sweet little cunt squeezing my cock, baby. You ready for me, sweetheart?"

You bit your plump bottom lip shyly, peering up at him through long, curling lashes as you slowly, teasingly spread your plush thighs apart. Exposing yourself to his ravenous gaze, you arched your back slightly to present your glistening sex. Your blushing cheeks and nose scrunched up adorably as you fluttered your lashes. “I'm ready, Bucky,” you breathed, your voice a needy whisper. The scent of your arousal mingled with the lingering aroma of vanilla and champagne perfuming the air between you.

Your perky breasts heaved with each anticipating breath, the rosy nipples hardened into tight little peaks. Nuzzling your chin against his chest, you gazed up at him with hooded, desire-drunk eyes, your breathless plea unmistakable. “Please, Bucky... I need you. I'm all yours... every inch of me is yours to take.'"

Bucky shuddered as your legs fell open, revealing the glistening perfection of your bare cunt. The scent of your arousal and sight of you finally bare for him made his mouth water and his cock throb. He could see how wet you were, how ready and eager for him. Your puffy lips were slick and swollen, just begging to be spread open around his thick, hard flesh. He wanted to bury his face in your sweet little pussy, to lap up every drop of your slick until you were writhing and screaming his name. But more than that, he needed to be inside you. Needed to feel your velvet heat clamping down around him, needed to hear you moan and gasp as he stretched you open and filled you up. He reached down to grip your thighs, his fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh as he pushed them further apart, opening you even more to him. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch, could sense your anticipation and your need.

"Fuck, babygirl," he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. "You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. So goddamn sexy spread out like this for me."

He notched the broad head of his cock against your entrance, feeling the slick, scorching heat of you kissing the tip of his cock. He rolled his hips, coating his tip in your juices, getting himself slick and ready.

"I'm gonna fuck this needy little cunt so good," he promised darkly. "Gonna make you scream and shake and come all over my big, thick cock. You want that, babygirl? Want me to split you open and fuck you raw?" He looked down at your cute, flushed face, at your big eyes clouded with lust and desire, and he knew he had never wanted anything more in his life. 

He drank in every inch of your exposed flesh, from your blushing cheeks and cute little nose to your heaving, perfect tits and the dusting of freckles across your cleavage. You looked like a goddamn wet dream come to life, a fucking goddess of lust and desire. And when you arched that back to present yourself to him, your pleading words tumbling from your kiss-swollen lips, he was done for. Completely, utterly done.

"Fuck, babygirl," he groaned, his voice rough and low and dripping with desire. "You're mine, all mine. Gonna make you feel so fucking good."

He reached down with his human hand to line himself up, the swollen head of his cock nudging against your slick, wet entrance. He teasingly rubbed himself from clit to hole, before slowly, inch by tortuous inch, he pushed forward. Your velvety walls stretched around him, hugging his thick shaft as he pressed deeper and deeper inside you. He had to grit his teeth and take it slow, fighting the urge to slam forward and bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. But goddamn, the feeling of your tight, hot cunt enveloping him, squeezing him like a fucking vice, was indescribable. Incredible. Better than anything he had ever felt before.

“Shit, sweetheart," he grunted as he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls nestling against your ass. "So fucking tight. Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy, babygirl. Gonna fuck you so hard, so deep, you'll be feeling me for days."

You gasp brokenly, eyes rolling back as Bucky sinks to the hilt inside you. Your hands shoot up to grasp his biceps, nails digging into the flesh of his organic arm. "Jesus," you wheeze out, overwhelmed by the sensation of being impaled on his cock, "I've never felt so full in my life." Your hips squirm and roll instinctively, trying to adjust to his sheer size as you pant softly against his neck.

Bucky groaned deeply as he felt your fingers digging into his biceps, your petite body squirming and rolling beneath him as you familiarized yourself with his massive size. He could feel every flutter, every clench, every desperate little movement of your velvet walls as they struggled to accommodate his thick, aching cock. "Take your time, babygirl," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Take all the time you need. Gonna make this so good for you, sweetheart."

He brushed a strand of hair back from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as he gazed down at you with a tender, almost reverent expression. He loved seeing you like this - dazed, drunk on lust, worshipping every inch of his cock with your tight, perfect pussy.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, doll. Spread out beneath me, stuffed full of my dick. Knew you'd have a hot little cunt, but shit... never imagined it would feel this good." His thumb brushed across your trembling lower lip, his eyes darkening with hunger as he watched your breathless pants. He rolled his hips slowly, shallowly, letting you feel every thick inch of him as he ground against your sensitive walls. "Shit baby, your pussy is gripping me like a fucking fist. Gonna ruin this cute little cunt, doll. Gonna fucking wreck you."

Bucky raked his lips and tongue over your slender neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses and sharp little nips in their wake. He lavished attention on your delicate collarbone before dipping down to worship your heaving tits, his metal hand cupping the soft, plush mound reverently. He circled his thumb pads around your areolas, teasing the sensitive skin until they pebbled and strained against his touch. Then, with a low groan, he hauled one aching peak into his mouth, suckling greedily as his metal fingers plucked at the other. You whimpered and writhed beneath him, the rough drag of his teeth and tongue on your tender nipples sending jolts of electricity zinging straight to your dripping core. Your thighs clenched around his waist, sharp heels digging into the firm globes of his muscular ass.

Bucky could feel your velvet walls starting to relax, to soften and flutter around his throbbing shaft as you adjusted to his size. He rolled his hips, stroking along your inner walls, loving the slick glide of your juices coating his thick cock. Sliding a hand down to where you were connected, he ran a finger through your soaked folds, circling your swollen clit and feeling you tremble. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, voice a low, lust-rough rasp. "Gonna make this pussy feel so fucking good."

Bucky began to move, slowly at first, easing you into the thick, heavy thrusts of his hips. He watched your face as he fucked into you, memorizing every gasp, every whimper, every flash of pure pleasure that crossed your expressive features. His pace increased gradually, building to a steady, pounding rhythm. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the creaking of the bed and your breathless cries.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy feels incredible," he groaned, his eyes burning into yours. "So fucking tight, so fucking hot. Gonna - ungh - fuck, gonna fill this cunt up so good. Pump you full of my cum, sweetheart."

He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening you up, driving even deeper into your molten core. His metal hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into the plush flesh as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts rocking you against the headboard. You giggled breathlessly as Bucky’s dog tags bounced and swayed in front of your face with each powerful thrust of his hips. The metallic clink-clink sound mingled with the erotic symphony of your lovemaking, spurring him on.

He reached down to grab the swinging tags, his fingers brushing against your lips. His grin widened and in one swift motion, he grabbed the tags in his teeth. The sight of him- all rugged and dominant with his dog tags clutched between white teeth and his piercing blue eyes drunk on lust as he fucked into you - made you clench hard around his pistoning shaft.

"Bucky!" You gasped, your back arching off the bed. "Oh my god, yes!" Your nails scrabbled at his back as you clung to him. Bucky snarled around the dog tags clenched in his teeth, the sound reverberating through his chest. The sight of you arching beneath him, your back bowed, your tits bouncing with each fierce thrust, your nails raking down his back, drove him absolutely wild. He released the tags, letting them fall against his chest as he crashed his mouth against yours in a bruising, demanding kiss. His tongue plundered your mouth, fucking your face with the same brutal rhythm he used to slam into your cunt.

"Fuck yeah, scream for me babygirl," he growled against your lips, his hips never faltering. "Wanna hear you, sweetheart. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to."

His metal hand slid down to grip your ass, kneading the round cheek, pulling you harder against him. His other hand found your wrists, pinning them above your head as he loomed over you, a dark, dominant figure intent on claiming every inch of your body. He could feel your cunt starting to flutter around him, your juices dripping down his shaft, your walls squeezing him like a vice. He fucked you through it, his rhythm never stopping, never letting up, determined to make you come undone on his cock. His metal hand wrapped around your slender throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch into him. At the same time, his human hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your neck to his greedy mouth.

Bucky wasted no time, his lips and teeth and tongue attacking the smooth expanse of your skin. He sucked dark marks into your flesh, surely he would leave a collar of love bites around your throat. His teeth sank into the soft spot where your neck met your shoulder, marking you, claiming you.

"Fuck, come for me babygirl," he growled against your skin, his hips slamming into yours with brutal force. "I can feel this cunt getting tight, sweetheart. Gonna fucking drench my cock, aren’t you? Fuck, I'm gonna pump you so full of my cum. Breed this sweet little pussy, babygirl."

His metal fingers flexed around your throat as his human hand gripped your hair tighter. He could feel your body tensing, your legs starting to shake, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. He knew you were close, could feel your release approaching like a freight train.

You whimper and squirm, trembling and arching wantonly into Bucky as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as ecstasy consumes you, your velvet walls clenching rhythmically around his throbbing shaft. You’re drowning in sensation, lost to the intense, pulsing bliss radiating from where you’re joined.

"That's it, fuck, yes! Take it, babygirl! Take my fucking load!" he groaned, slamming into you one, two, three more times before burying himself to the hilt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he came hard, painting your fluttering walls with thick ropes of his hot seed. He collapsed against you, hips still twitching, metal hand still wrapped loosely around your throat, as he filled you with spurt after spurt of his cum. He could feel it leaking out around his shaft, dripping down to soak into the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck sweetheart," he panted, nuzzling into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline. "That was - ungh - goddamn, babygirl. You okay?" He pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes filled with concern and satisfaction, his expression softening as he took in your dazed, blissed-out face.

“Hah, I think you killed me," you breathed out in a giggle, your voice hoarse from moaning. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused as you gazed up at Bucky. You could barely think straight, your mind still hazy from the intense fucking you just received. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the musky scent of his skin mixed with the sweet aroma of your arousal. Between your thighs, his seed was leaking out, dripping onto the damp sheets below. You could feel it, warm and sticky and plentiful, a testament to Bucky's virility and stamina thanks to the serum. You knew you’d be feeling this for days, your pussy sore but so wonderfully satisfied.

Bucky chuckled low in his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your body. He brushed your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear gently. His calloused fingers trailed down your cheek, tracing the delicate line of your jaw, the curve of your lips. “Did I though, doll? Killed you with pleasure? I'd say I brought you to life instead," he murmured, a smug smirk on his handsome face. "Shit babygirl, you look so fucking beautiful right now. Sated, fucked out, dripping with my cum. I've never seen a more perfect sight."

He rolled his hips slowly, his semi-hard cock stirring the mess inside your sensitive pussy. A low groan escaped him at the sensation, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before opening to gaze at you with heated intensity. "Feel that, sweetheart? Feel all that cum sloshing around in this greedy little cunt? Fuck, I pumped you so full, babygirl. Knew this pussy would milk me dry the second I sank into it."

Bucky's hand slid down to your chest, cupping the soft swell of your breast. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, feeling it pebble at his touch. He leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss, pouring all his desire and satisfaction into it. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Gonna keep this pussy full, baby. Gonna fuck you so full of my seed, you'll be dripping with it for days. Everyone will know this cunt belongs to me, sweetheart." His smile turned wicked, promising all sorts of indulgent, pleasurable debauchery in the near future.

You gazed up at Bucky with hazy, lovestruck eyes, your lips curled into a dreamy, satisfied smile. You tangled slender fingers in his dark hair, giving a gentle tug as you turned your face to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, breathing in the addictive scent of your coupling mixed with his natural, rugged aroma.

"Mmm, Happy Valentine's day, Sergeant Barnes," you murmured softly, your voice a husky rasp from the enthusiastic screaming match you had indulged in mere moments prior. "I love...I love you." You punctuated the heartfelt confession with a tender, lingering kiss pressed to his chiseled jawline, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the closeness and intimacy of the moment.

Bucky went still for a long moment as your softly spoken words washed over him, the tender kiss you placed on his jaw sending a shiver down his spine. He knew he hadn't misheard you, could feel the sincerity radiating off you in waves. But still, he needed to be sure, needed to hear you say it again when he could see the truth shining clear in your eyes. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he pulled back to look at you. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, seeing the love and affection swimming in their depths. Then he smiled, soft and sweet, breathtaking in its gentle sincerity. He cupped your face in his large hands, calloused thumbs brushing away the last of your tears. He leaned in closer, his forehead coming to rest against yours, so close he could feel your breath mingling with his own.

Then, in a low, gravelly murmur, he said, "You love me, sweetheart? You sure about that? Cause I love you too, babygirl. So fuckin' much it scares me sometimes. Thought I couldn't love anyone after...after everything. But you? You make me feel alive again. Make me believe in happy endings."

Bucky sealed his confession with a slow, deep kiss, pouring every ounce of love and tenderness he had into it. He kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him...because you were. When he finally pulled back, there was a new light in his eyes. A soft, warm glow that had nothing to do with lust or desire...and everything to do with love.

[xhoess]

Midnight Melodies

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Warnings: Strong languag, Sexual content, Emotional tension, Intimate/romantic scenes, Fluff and angst, Mentions of uncertainty in relationships, Explicit content.

Wc: 10,3 K

Masterlist

If there was one thing everyone at Eden Academy could agree on, it was that Kim Hongjoong was perfect.

Student council president. Straight A’s. Teachers loved him, students respected him, and somehow, he made wearing a uniform look effortless. If someone needed help, Hongjoong was the first to offer. If there was an issue, he fixed it before anyone else even noticed.

You, on the other hand, were a little more… invisible. Not a bad student, not a standout. Just another face in the music club, trying to keep things afloat.

Which is why you were standing outside the student council room, gripping the petition for your club’s funding like a lifeline. This is fine, you told yourself. Just go in, ask him for help, and leave.

Taking a breath, you knocked.

"Come in,” a voice called.

The room was pristine, every file and folder stacked with precise care. And there, at the center of it all, was him.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, a black pen twirling between his fingers. His eyes lifted when you entered, scanning you in that unreadable way that made people nervous.

“Ah,” he said, setting his pen down. “You’re from the music club, right?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling too aware of yourself. “Yeah. I—uh—wanted to talk about the budget cuts. We’re supposed to compete next month, but without funding, we can’t afford equipment or travel costs.” You placed the petition on his desk. “We got over a hundred signatures. I was hoping you could—”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples like he already knew where this was going.

"The school board’s been strict this year,” he said. “They want to prioritize ‘academic-focused’ programs.”

Your stomach dropped. “So, what? We just get pushed aside?”

He gave you a look. Not unkind, but unreadable. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. But I can’t promise anything.”

You stared at him, frustration bubbling in your chest. “You’re the president. If anyone can convince them, it’s you.”

For the first time, Hongjoong hesitated. His fingers tapped against the desk, his gaze flickering—just for a second—before settling back into his usual cool expression.

“I’ll try.”

The words felt like a deflection. Something was off about his tone, but before you could question it, he stood, effectively ending the conversation.

“Was there anything else?”

You clenched your jaw. “No. Thanks for your time, President Kim.”

Turning on your heel, you left, irritation simmering under your skin.

Why did it feel like he already knew the answer before you even walked in?

The school was quiet, unnervingly so. The usual bustle of students, the sounds of lockers slamming and chatter filling the hallways—gone. Only the steady ticking of the clock seemed to echo in the silence.

You had no intention of staying this late. The last few hours had been a blur of rewriting your club’s proposal, attempting to salvage any chance of getting the funding you desperately needed. But time had slipped away, and now it was far past curfew.

10:42 PM flashed on your phone screen as you stuffed your papers into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You hurried down the hallway toward the nearest exit, hoping the janitors hadn’t locked the gates yet.

Just as you reached the door, though, a sound stopped you cold.

Music.

At first, you thought it was an illusion. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, longing for some background noise after so much silence. But then the beat hit again—deep, pulsing, relentless. It wasn’t the usual classical stuff the school played during assemblies, nor was it anything you’d heard during practice with the club. This was… different.

Intrigued and a bit confused, you turned toward the source. The sound was coming from an old classroom at the end of the hallway, one that had long since been abandoned for more modern spaces. The door was slightly ajar, a thin strip of light spilling into the darkness of the hallway.

You hesitated, your heart starting to race. The music sounded raw, emotional—real.

As you quietly approached the door, you peered through the crack, eyes widening at what you saw.

There, sitting at an old desk cluttered with various music equipment, was Kim Hongjoong.

But not the Hongjoong you knew—the student council president who always kept his uniform crisp, his hair perfectly styled, his demeanor immaculate.

No, this Hongjoong was lost in the music, head tilted down as his fingers flew over a laptop’s touchpad. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing lean forearms. His tie was loosened, hanging sloppily around his neck. The usual sharpness in his eyes was softened by the dim glow of the screen, his expression focused, intense.

This wasn’t the perfect student—this was a person completely immersed in his art.

The music swelled, the bass pounding in your chest, and you could feel the energy in the room—a deep, throbbing force that seemed to pulse through the very walls. It was raw and unfiltered, the kind of sound that felt more like a confession than a performance. It wasn’t the kind of music that would be welcomed at Eden Academy’s polished events.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Hongjoong wasn’t just studying. He was creating something—something entirely different, something he had been hiding from everyone.

A sudden, loud beat made you flinch, your foot shifting on the floor with an audible creak.

He heard you.

Hongjoong’s head snapped up, eyes locking with yours in an instant. For a split second, there was only silence—the thrum of the music fading as he froze, his gaze sharp but not quite as controlled as usual.

You both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and then the music abruptly stopped, replaced by a tense stillness that filled the room.

“…What are you doing here?” His voice was low, more gravelly than you expected, his usual confident tone softened by something that felt closer to a mix of frustration and surprise.

Your heart was still pounding, but you stepped into the room, a challenge rising in your chest. "I could ask you the same thing."

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, clearly rattled. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, standing up and pushing his chair back. “I didn’t mean for anyone to find out.”

You looked at the screen of his laptop, where the remnants of the music project remained, the waveform still visible. "This isn’t school-approved music, is it?"

Hongjoong was quiet for a long moment, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as if he didn’t know whether to shut the laptop or leave it exposed.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temples. "No. It’s not."

You tilted your head, stepping closer to him. “Why? Why are you hiding this?"

The edge in his voice softened slightly, but his eyes remained guarded. “Because if they find out, it’s over. This isn’t what they want. I’m supposed to be the model student, the ‘perfect president,’ the one who plays by the rules.” He shook his head, almost as if he was frustrated with himself. “But I’m not. I don’t fit the image they want me to have.”

Your brow furrowed. “You love this, don’t you?”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickered, and for the first time in this conversation, he looked vulnerable. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost under his breath. “I do.”

He glanced at the desk, avoiding your eyes. You could see the conflict in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table—like he was torn between two worlds.

“You don’t have to hide it, Hongjoong,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “Why don’t you just fight for it? You’re the student council president. You can make a change. You can—”

He cut you off, his voice rough. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand.”

You took a step closer, and for a moment, the distance between you two felt like miles—emotional miles. You had never seen him like this before, so raw, so... real.

The tension in the room thickened, and your pulse quickened as Hongjoong’s gaze drifted to your lips. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but for a brief second, it felt like the world had shifted. Like the perfect, untouchable student president had become... something else entirely.

“Then explain it to me,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly, a mix of curiosity and something else.

His lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something—something that might have changed everything. But instead, he swallowed, his jaw tightening.

“Some things… you just can’t explain,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His hand, almost of its own volition, reached out, brushing against your wrist. The contact was electric.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped back, avoiding your eyes. He was pushing you away, but not quite in the way you expected.

“Go home, before someone catches you here,” he said, his tone colder now, but still laced with that underlying tension.

You stood still for a moment, processing everything—the music, his confession, the way his hand had lingered on yours.

Before you could speak, he was already turning back to his laptop, shutting the lid with finality.

“Go.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to argue, to demand more answers, but instead, you simply nodded, leaving the room with the weight of his secret pressing down on your chest.

Kim Hongjoong wasn’t who you thought he was.

And suddenly, you weren’t sure where this path was taking you anymore.

The days following that night were frustrating, to say the least.

You had seen him—the real Hongjoong, not the perfectly polished student council president. You had heard his music, felt the weight of his emotions in every note. And yet, when you saw him at school, he acted like nothing had happened.

In the hallways, he walked past you without a second glance. In class meetings, he spoke with the same cool authority, as if he hadn’t confessed something deeply personal just a few nights ago.

And it pissed you off.

Because now that you had seen that version of him, you couldn’t unsee it. Now that you had felt that tension crackle in the air between you, you couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.

So, on Friday night, when you found yourself standing in front of the abandoned classroom again, it wasn’t hesitation you felt. It was determination.

This time, you weren’t going to let him push you away.

You pushed the door open without knocking.

The music was already playing.

And there he was—exactly where you expected him to be.

Hongjoong sat hunched over his laptop, the dim glow of the screen casting a soft light on his face. He was dressed more casually tonight. His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, his white dress shirt slightly wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was gone, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of collarbone.

He looked comfortable.

He looked like himself.

But when the door clicked shut behind you, he didn’t look up.

“You’re back,” he murmured, fingers adjusting a sound level on his mixer.

“I had questions,” you said, stepping forward. “But you ignored me all day.”

A hint of amusement flickered across his face, but he still didn’t look at you. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“Oh, really?” You folded your arms. “So you just happened to walk past me five times today without seeing me?”

Now, he smirked. Smirked.

“Maybe,” he said.

The smugness in his voice made something snap in you.

“Fine,” you said. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

Before he could respond, you marched across the room and closed his laptop.

The music stopped abruptly.

Hongjoong froze, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard. Then, slowly, he looked up at you.

And that was when the tension shifted.

Because now, his eyes weren’t distant. They weren’t indifferent.

They were burning.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

You met his gaze, refusing to back down. “Then explain it to me.”

A heavy silence stretched between you. The only sound in the room was the soft buzz of the equipment and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Then, Hongjoong did something you didn’t expect.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then tugged you down into the chair beside him.

You yelped slightly as your knees brushed against his, your shoulder bumping his arm. The proximity sent a sharp jolt of awareness through your body.

Hongjoong leaned in, voice quieter now. “You really want to know?”

You nodded, trying not to focus on how warm he was next to you, how his scent—a mix of cologne, coffee, and something distinctly him—wrapped around you like an unintentional trap.

He reached for his laptop, flipping it back open.

“Then listen.”

The music started again, softer this time, as if he had adjusted it just for you.

You sat there, side by side, listening to the melody pour from the speakers. The beat was slower, deeper—less controlled, more raw. It wasn’t polished like the music you were used to hearing in school competitions.

It was honest.

As the song played, you found yourself leaning closer, drawn into the way Hongjoong’s fingers moved so effortlessly over the controls. The way he adjusted the sound with care, like each note meant something to him.

“You made this?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

“It’s…” You struggled to find the right words. “It feels personal.”

Hongjoong exhaled a quiet laugh. “That’s because it is.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

This wasn’t just music to him. It wasn’t just a hobby. It was something deeper—something he didn’t show to just anyone.

Your eyes flickered to his hands, the way his fingers traced over the laptop’s trackpad. He had artist’s hands—quick, precise, confident. Without thinking, you reached out, letting your fingertips ghost over the back of his hand.

Hongjoong stilled.

The air in the room shifted.

His eyes flickered up to yours, something dark and unreadable swirling behind them. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t move either.

“You’re not scared of getting caught, are you?” you murmured.

His lips parted slightly. His gaze dipped—to your lips, just for a second—before flickering back up.

“Not scared,” he said. “Just… aware.”

Your fingers were still touching his. Not a full hold, just the faintest brush of contact. But it was enough. Enough to send a pulse of heat through your veins, enough to make the space between you feel smaller than it was.

Something had shifted.

Something had changed.

You weren’t sure who moved first—him or you—but the next thing you knew, you were leaning closer, your breaths mingling in the space between you. The tension was thick, electric, alive.

Then, just as quickly as it happened, Hongjoong pulled back.

The loss of warmth was immediate.

You blinked, slightly dazed. “Hongjoong—”

“You should go,” he murmured, voice quieter now.

He wasn’t pushing you away out of anger.

He was pushing you away because he was scared of something.

You could see it in his eyes—the hesitation, the restraint. Like he had already let you get too close.

Like he knew that if he let you stay, something would happen that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Why do you do that?”

His gaze flickered to yours. “Do what?”

“Push people away when they start to care.”

His jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to answer—but he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled and turned back to his laptop.

“You should go,” he repeated, softer this time.

You hesitated.

Then, slowly, you rose from your seat.

But before you left, you leaned in—just enough for him to hear you—and whispered:

“You can keep pushing, Hongjoong. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Then, without waiting for a response, you walked out.

The moment you stepped out of the classroom that night, you knew this wasn’t over.

Hongjoong could push you away all he wanted, but something had shifted between you two. The tension, the glances, the way his fingers had lingered against yours—it was all leading somewhere.

And you weren’t going to be the one to turn away first.

---

The next week was different.

Hongjoong still played his role perfectly—the student council president, the model student, the untouchable leader. But you noticed things now.

The way his eyes subtly searched for you in the cafeteria. The way he tensed whenever you walked into a room, like he was hyper-aware of your presence. The way he hesitated before speaking whenever you were near.

He was unraveling.

And you wanted to see just how far he’d let himself go.

---

Friday night.

You didn’t even hesitate this time.

When you walked into the abandoned classroom, you found Hongjoong exactly where you expected him—but he wasn’t alone.

A small group of students was gathered around him, headphones slung around their necks, deep in conversation about something on his laptop. The energy in the room was different from before—louder, more alive.

You hovered near the door, watching.

Hongjoong was in his element. His hands moved as he spoke, his voice animated as he explained something on the screen. His sleeves were pushed up, his tie once again missing.

This version of him—the one who was passionate, focused, completely unguarded—was dangerously attractive.

And then he saw you.

His voice faltered for just a second. His hands stilled. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did.

You smirked. Gotcha.

“Yo, we should probably bounce before curfew,” one of the students said, stretching. “You coming, Hongjoong?”

He hesitated. His eyes flickered to you for the briefest second.

Then, he shook his head. “I’ll stay a little longer.”

Interesting.

The others packed up and left, their laughter fading down the hallway. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the two of you alone.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, watching you. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You shrugged, stepping closer. “Nope.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You should.”

“Should I?” You tilted your head, your voice quieter now. Daring.

His eyes darkened slightly. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pressed a button on his laptop, and the music started playing.

Not the kind of polished, rehearsed music the school expected of him.

This was different.

It was slower, deeper—seductive.

A heavy beat thumped through the speakers, vibrating through your skin. The bass was thick, pulsing like a heartbeat. The melody slithered through the air, wrapping around you, pulling you in.

Hongjoong watched you, his fingers tapping against the desk in rhythm with the beat.

You took a step closer. Then another.

And then you did something bold.

You reached out and tugged his headphones off his neck.

He froze.

Your fingers brushed against the skin just below his jaw, and you felt him tense.

The air between you shifted.

The music pounded, drowning out the silence.

Hongjoong’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his breath unsteady. His eyes flickered from your hand to your lips—just for a second—before he exhaled sharply and turned away.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice rough.

You smirked, tilting your head. “Or what?”

His jaw tightened. He stood up so suddenly that your heart jumped.

And then he was right in front of you.

Closer than he had ever been.

His scent—clean, musky, with the faintest trace of cologne—wrapped around you, and your breath hitched.

“Or you might not like what happens next,” he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, promising.

Your heart pounded.

Your fingers were still wrapped around the headphones, your knuckles barely brushing his chest.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you backed away.

And then—he did it.

He broke first.

One of his hands lifted, his fingers grazing the side of your face—slow, deliberate.

You inhaled sharply, your lips parting slightly at the unexpected touch. His fingertips were warm against your skin, his touch feather-light, almost hesitant.

But his eyes?

There was nothing hesitant about them.

They were dark. Intense. Focused entirely on you.

“I should stop,” he murmured.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his fingers traced down, barely skimming along your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Your pulse roared.

“You should,” you whispered.

But neither of you moved.

The music thrummed through the air, each beat thick with something unnamed, something dangerous.

Then—his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth.

A barely-there touch. A test. A warning.

Your breath hitched.

His gaze flickered to your lips again.

For a second, you thought he was going to do it.

You thought he was going to close the distance, finally let this fire consume you both.

But then—

A loud knock on the classroom door shattered the moment.

Hongjoong pulled back so fast it was like he had been burned.

The spell broke.

Your chest was heaving.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The knock came again, sharper this time.

Hongjoong exhaled harshly, his jaw tight. “It’s locked,” he called out, his voice slightly hoarse. “Give me a second.”

Your heart was still racing.

Your skin still buzzed where he had touched you.

You met his gaze one last time—a silent conversation neither of you dared to finish.

Then, before he could stop you, you turned on your heel and walked out.

Leaving him breathless in the dim light of the music room, staring after you like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

The tension was unbearable.

For days after that night, neither of you spoke about what had happened.

Not about the music. Not about the way his fingers had traced your jaw. Not about the way he had looked at you—like he wanted to do something reckless, something irreversible.

But silence didn’t mean nothing had changed.

Because it had.

It was in the way he watched you now—like he couldn’t help himself. It was in the way his breath hitched when you brushed past him in the hallways, in the way his fingers lingered just a second too long whenever he handed you something.

It was in the way he didn’t push you away anymore.

---

Friday night.

You weren’t sure if he would be there.

But the moment you stepped into the classroom, you found him—waiting.

Hongjoong was sitting at the desk, head bowed, fingers tapping idly against his laptop. His sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded, his top buttons undone just enough to make your throat go dry.

The tension in the room was instant.

The door clicked shut behind you.

His fingers stilled.

Slowly, he looked up.

And that was when you knew—tonight would be different.

---

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

The only sound in the room was the hum of his laptop, the quiet static of the speakers.

Then—

“You keep coming back,” he murmured.

You leaned against the desk beside him. “And you keep letting me.”

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists on his lap.

There it was again.

That barely contained tension. That dangerous edge of restraint.

Your heart pounded.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice low. “This isn’t a good idea.”

You tilted your head. “Then why haven’t you told me to leave?”

His breath stilled.

He had no answer.

Because he didn’t want you to.

Something shifted.

You weren’t sure who moved first.

All you knew was that one second, there was distance—and then there wasn’t.

One of his hands lifted—hesitant, searching.

Then his fingers ghosted along your wrist, curling just slightly around your skin. A shiver ran through you at the warmth of his touch, at the deliberate slowness of it.

Hongjoong wasn't rushing.

He was savoring.

Like he knew this was the moment before everything changed.

Your breath hitched.

And then, finally—finally—he broke.

In one smooth motion, he pushed off the desk, closing the last bit of space between you.

You barely had time to react.

One hand slid up to cup the side of your face—gentle but firm. The other settled low on your waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt, pulling you against him.

And then—

His lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It was desperate, consuming, weeks of pent-up tension unraveling all at once.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, clinging as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing flush against yours. He exhaled sharply against your lips, his grip tightening as if he was trying to memorize the way you felt.

Like he was afraid to let go.

The kiss was heat, urgency, unspoken emotions spilling over.

When you finally broke apart, you were breathless.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, his other hand still resting on your waist.

Instead, you whispered, “Do it again.”

His eyes met yours—dazed, unreadable.

And then, barely above a whisper—

“Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, heart racing.

But you didn’t.

And just like that—the fire consumed you both.

"not here.." he Whispers.

He led you to the boy's dormitory wing, a place strictly off-limits to female students. The thrill of the forbidden made your steps quicken, your breath coming in short gasps. He opened the door to his room, ushering you inside.

"Hongjoong, are you sure about this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, closing the door behind you. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't. But we need to be quiet, okay? If the professors find out, I'll lose my whole reputation."

You nodded, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. The danger of it all was intoxicating.

He moved closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Thank you," you whispered back, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He leaned in, his lips softly meeting yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a tender exploration that deepened as you both surrendered to the moment. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you parted them, allowing him entrance. His taste was sweet, like the coffee he must have had earlier.

squirm with pleasure. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes," you managed to whisper.

He stood up, his hands moving to your jeans. He unbuttoned them, his fingers brushing against your stomach as he pulled them down. He took his time, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed your lacy panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, his gaze locked onto yours.

licked you slowly, his tongue flat against your clit. You moaned, your hips bucking against his mouth. He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through you.

He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit your G-spot. You cried out, your hands fisting the sheets. He added another finger, pumping them in and out while his tongue continued to work your clit.

You were close, your body tensing as the pleasure built. He sensed it, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to push you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you.

He crawled back up your body, his cock hard and ready. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "You taste so fucking good," he murmured.

He positioned himself at your entrance, looking into your eyes. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm. He pushed into you slowly, his cock stretching you as he filled you completely. You gasped, your nails digging into his back.

"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.

You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just...take it slow."

He nodded, his hips moving in slow, deliberate thrusts. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he moved in and out of you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to move faster. He obliged, his hips moving in quick, hard thrusts. You moaned with each one, your body eager for more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locked onto yours. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, yes, I do."

He flipped you over, pulling you to your hands and knees. He entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips. He pounded into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust. You cried out, your body pushed to the edge once again.

He reached around, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You came with a scream, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you.

He followed soon after, his body tensing as he came inside you. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling you with him, his body spooning yours.

You lay there, your body sated and exhausted, his arms wrapped around you. You listened to the sound of his heartbeat, slowing as he caught his breath.

"That was...incredible," you murmured, your voice soft and content.

But unfortunately this great moment had to come to an end. After hongjoong made sure you where alright and cleaned up you had to leave.

Oh god you feel so phatetic leaving like this but there is no other options, they will check the dorms every evening

The walk back to your dorm was hell.

Every step felt heavier than the last, the distance between you and Hongjoong’s dorm growing with each footfall, yet the warmth of his touch, the taste of his kiss, lingered like an invisible weight pressing on you. Your pulse still throbbed in your ears, your body still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened. The world outside seemed so distant, so disconnected from what had just unfolded behind closed doors.

You kept your head down, pretending that nothing had changed, trying to act normal, but you couldn’t escape the new reality that had just been carved into you. What had just happened?

His hands, his mouth, his scent—all of it was still imprinted on your skin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something much bigger than just a fleeting moment. It was dangerous—you both knew that.

But it had felt so right.

---

Once you crossed the threshold into your dorm, you felt the weight of the moment descend on you, that strange blend of guilt and excitement that came with sneaking around, with doing something you weren't supposed to. The door clicked shut softly behind you, but the silence that followed felt deafening. You had just done something you never imagined doing, and now, you were left alone with your thoughts.

Your roommate was already asleep, her light snores filling the otherwise quiet room. You sat down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. There was nothing to distract you, no escape from the overwhelming thoughts running through your head. You closed your eyes, and there he was again. Hongjoong, his body against yours, his hands, his lips, his voice murmuring your name.

It wasn’t just the physicality of it.

It was the connection. The chemistry. That undeniable pull that made you feel like you were being drawn into his orbit, over and over again.

But now, the silence that stretched between you two was almost suffocating. No texts, no calls, no awkward glances in the hallway. Had he regretted it? Or was this just part of his plan to keep you at arm’s length? You had no way of knowing.

You hated the uncertainty.

---

The Next Day

The day passed like a blur.

Classes felt like a distant memory as your thoughts kept drifting back to him, back to that night. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on your skin, his lips on yours.

You barely looked at him when you saw him between classes. His presence made your heart beat harder, faster, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Every time your eyes met his, you felt that pull again, that fire burning just beneath the surface. But he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word.

He was avoiding you.

At least, that’s how it felt.

Maybe it was easier for him. Maybe he knew what to do next, while you were left in the haze of the aftermath. What were you supposed to do now?

You hated that you couldn’t read him. You hated how he could make you feel so… so alive, yet leave you completely in the dark about what was really happening between you two.

But the worst part?

The worst part was how much you wanted to see him again.

---

That Night

The campus was quiet, the lights from the hallway casting long shadows across the floor. The hours ticked by slowly. You couldn’t stand the silence, couldn’t stand the thought of him, of that night, lingering in your mind without any resolution. You needed answers.

So, you decided to go to him.

You slipped out of your dorm, careful not to wake anyone, and made your way through the empty halls, heart pounding in your chest. The music room was your destination. You knew it, like a second home, but tonight it felt different. Everything felt different.

You reached the door and found it slightly ajar, the soft sound of something being typed filling the space beyond. Your breath caught as you pushed the door open a little more. There he was—Hongjoong.

His back was to you, and he was sitting at the desk, headphones on, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. His posture was relaxed, but there was something tense in the air.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him. For all the confidence you had before, now, your body felt uncertain. Your nerves were running wild, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to yell at him for ignoring you or pull him toward you again.

But then he turned, his eyes meeting yours, and just like that, everything else faded away.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. The world seemed to stop for a moment as the two of you locked eyes.

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He exhaled sharply, removing his headphones slowly, like he was steeling himself for something. “I haven’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Don’t lie to me, Hongjoong.”

He flinched, his eyes flicking down to his hands for a moment before they came back up to meet yours. The wall he had been hiding behind was crumbling, and you could see the uncertainty in his expression.

He hesitated. “It’s not…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. He took a step toward you, but his voice was quieter this time. “It’s not that simple.”

You took a step closer, not giving him the chance to distance himself. “Then what is it?”

He sighed, his hands resting on the desk behind him, almost like he was holding himself back. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Your stomach churned at his words. What was that supposed to mean? You weren’t the only one confused, but this wasn’t the time for him to retreat again. Not now.

“I don’t know either,” you whispered. “But running away from it won’t make it go away.”

His breath hitched, his gaze locking onto you with such intensity that it almost knocked the air from your lungs. He was standing so close now, his body tense with restraint. “I can’t just ignore it. I can’t just… forget what happened.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. You had been afraid of the same thing. What if this had been a mistake? What if he regretted it? But when his eyes softened slightly, when he took that step closer—you knew it wasn’t.

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours. “Then don’t. Don’t forget. Let’s figure this out together.”

His hand tightened around yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was holding onto you for dear life. He pulled you closer until you were standing right in front of him. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips barely brushing your forehead as he spoke.

“Do you even know what you’re asking?” His voice was hoarse, as though the weight of it all was pressing down on him.

You nodded, your fingers brushing his jawline, urging him to look at you. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”

His hands slid up your arms, cupping your face gently as he tilted your head up. “You make this harder than it needs to be,” he muttered, but his lips were already on yours before he could finish the thought.

It was slow at first, hesitant—as if both of you were testing the waters once more. But it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, to turn desperate, as the same need, the same fire from the night before reignited between you.

Hongjoong’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming. His lips moved from yours to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t know how to stop this,” he whispered.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you replied.

His hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending sparks through your body. Everything about him, everything about this moment felt inevitable—like you had been waiting for it, unknowingly, all along.

And when his lips found yours again, there was no hesitation. No questions. Just the overwhelming need to be close, to be more than just two bodies in a room. To be something real.

---

The night unfolded again, just like it had before—intense, electric, and full of emotions that you hadn’t known you were capable of feeling. But this time, it was different. There was no fear of the unknown anymore. There was only the certainty of the connection between you two. The understanding that this wasn’t a one-time thing.

And as the hours wore on, you found yourself in the same place again—lost in him.

When it ended, both of you were breathless, tangled in each other, yet something had shifted. There were still questions, still doubts, but for the first time in a long time, you were willing to face them.

---

The days that followed that night were a whirlwind of confusion and longing, neither of you knowing exactly how to navigate the space you’d created between yourselves. After that kiss, after everything that happened, the silence was the loudest thing in the room.

You saw him in passing, in the hallways, sometimes in classes, but each time you caught his gaze, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two. You wanted to reach out, to say something, but every time your thoughts started to gather into words, they fell apart in your chest. You were stuck in this space, hovering somewhere between wanting to pull away for the sake of your own sanity—and desperately needing to know what Hongjoong was thinking.

But as each day passed, you couldn’t keep pretending that things were normal.

You needed answers.

You needed to hear it from him. Again.

---

It was another late evening when you decided you couldn’t keep walking around in the fog of uncertainty. Hongjoong’s dorm room door was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint music playing inside—probably a track he was working on. The sight of it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You stood outside for a long moment, your breath catching as you tried to gather the courage to knock. You couldn’t avoid it anymore. No more games. No more pretending like everything was fine. You needed to hear it from him, needed to know whether what had happened between you two was real, or if you’d both just gotten caught up in the moment.

With a deep breath, you knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing Hongjoong, looking slightly startled to see you standing there. His hair was disheveled, his eyes still holding the remnants of the exhaustion that came from hours of working. But when he saw you, his expression softened.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice low and tentative.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. “We need to talk,” you said, and it felt like every word you spoke was dripping with the weight of everything that had happened between you two.

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, glancing behind him toward his desk, but he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. You did, your eyes scanning the room quickly, but all you could focus on was him.

You stood in front of him, the silence stretching between you two. The tension felt thicker than ever. Finally, Hongjoong spoke, breaking the quiet. “What’s going on? What do you want to talk about?”

You didn’t want to dance around it anymore. You couldn’t.

“I want to know what we’re doing here, Hongjoong,” you said, your voice shaking slightly, but the words were out before you could second guess them. “After everything... after last night—why are we pretending like nothing happened? Why are you using me?”

His face softened, but you could see the inner conflict in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s not that I’m using you... I just—I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know what to do with how I feel. It’s not that simple, you know?”

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. “I get that. I’m confused, too. But I can’t keep pretending that nothing’s different. That night meant something. I don’t know what exactly, but it wasn’t just some random moment.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened even more, and he took a deep breath. “It wasn’t just some random moment for me either,” he confessed, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ve been trying to figure it out—what this is between us. But I guess I was scared. Scared that if I admitted how I feel, things would get messed up... But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. For the first time, there were no walls between you. No ambiguity, no confusion—just raw honesty.

“Hongjoong…” You felt a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. “I don’t want to pretend either.”

His eyes softened as he stepped closer to you, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “So, you feel the same way?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

You nodded, feeling your heart race as you looked up at him. “Yeah. I feel the same way.”

A sigh of relief escaped Hongjoong, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, tender kiss. This time, it wasn’t filled with the frenzy of desire—it was filled with something softer, something more intimate, as if you were both acknowledging that you had just crossed a threshold.

When he pulled back, he didn’t let go of you. His forehead rested against yours, and there was a gentle smile on his lips. “So... you’re saying this is real? That we’re doing this?”

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of relief and joy. “Yeah, I think we are.”

---

EPILOGE

From that moment on, the change between you two was undeniable. The space you’d once kept between each other had melted away, replaced by an easy, comfortable closeness. Hongjoong wasn’t avoiding you anymore. In fact, he was more present than ever, his attention focused on you every chance he got.

It wasn’t all perfect—nothing ever is. But now that you knew where you both stood, it was easier to navigate the growing feelings between you two. There was no more guessing. There was no more distance. You were together, and the unspoken weight had been lifted.

You spent more time in his dorm after classes, enjoying the quiet moments where you could simply be with each other, no pretenses, no expectations. And every time he touched you, kissed you, or simply smiled at you, your heart swelled with something you couldn’t quite name—but you knew it was something that felt right.

No more doubts. No more hiding. You were both committed to whatever came next.

The First Date

A week later, Hongjoong invited you to a small cafe downtown, away from the prying eyes of the campus. It wasn’t flashy, but it was perfect. Just the two of you, sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing, laughing freely without the weight of fear or uncertainty hanging over you.

There, in that cozy corner, he reached for your hand across the table, his fingers brushing yours with a softness that made your heart skip.

“This is nice,” Hongjoong said, his voice full of contentment as he looked at you, his eyes filled with affection. “I don’t want to rush anything, but I want to make this work. With you.”

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “I want that, too.”

And in that moment, you both knew that this—this was just the beginning.

_____________________

Taglist: @oceanside-view97 @hwa-stars @hoe4yunho @hohongjoong

[leaderwon]

NIGHT OF A THOUSAND WHISPERS : PJS | 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 - 𝟗)

Synopsis : With the sun setting behind you and a gentle breeze in the air, Jay sweeps you off your feet for an impromptu date at the beach. Between shared laughter and tender glances, every moment with him feels like a perfectly written love story.

Warnings : Mild suggestive content, heavy skinship (hand holding, hugging, and kissing)

Wc : 1.9k+

masterlist

The ocean waves lapped softly against the shore, blending seamlessly with the distant calls of seabirds. The golden light of the setting sun painted the horizon in hues of amber and rose, and a gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the sea. As you strolled down the sandy path, your heart raced at the sight of Jay waiting near the edge of the beach.

He stood with his back to the water, a soft smile on his face as he caught sight of you. His hair was tousled perfectly by the wind, and the sight was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

"You're just in time," Jay greeted warmly, reaching out to take your hand as you approached. "In time for what?" you asked, allowing him to guide you toward a setup you hadn't noticed before. There was a neatly laid blanket surrounded by flickering lanterns and a basket of snacks resting on the side.

Jay grinned mischievously. "A spontaneous date. Thought we could escape reality for a while." "You really went all out," you teased, but warmth bloomed in your chest at the effort he'd put in.

Settling onto the blanket, you gazed out at the horizon. The colors of the sunset reflected on the shimmering waves, creating a breathtaking scene. Jay leaned back on his hands, eyes focused on you instead of the view. "You look beautiful," he murmured. Heat rose to your cheeks. "You flatter me too much." "I mean it," he insisted, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I love seeing you happy."

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you could only gaze at him, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes. The vulnerability between you was palpable, but Jay never shied away from it.

As the conversation flowed effortlessly, you shared stories and laughed until your sides hurt. Jay's warmth and presence made the world fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect bubble.

"Hey," Jay said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you remember our first date?" You chuckled. "How could I forget? You spilled soda all over your shirt, and I was too polite to laugh at you."

Jay groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Don't remind me. That was so embarrassing. I thought I ruined everything." "You didn't," you assured him, nudging his shoulder. "It was actually kind of cute."

He peeked at you through his fingers, eyes glinting with amusement. "So you're saying I should spill soda on myself more often?" "Please don't," you laughed. "But it definitely made the date memorable." Jay's expression softened. "Every moment with you is memorable."

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and looked down at your intertwined hands. The music playing from the speaker faded into the background as Jay's thumb brushed gently over your knuckles.

"Can I say something?" he asked quietly. You nodded, meeting his gaze.

"Being with you feels like home" he confessed. "I've never felt this way about anyone before, and it honestly scares me a little. But I know that I don't want to be anywhere else but here, with you."

Emotion surged through you, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. Jay had always been thoughtful and affectionate, but this confession touched a part of your heart you'd kept guarded.

"I feel the same way," you whispered. "You make me feel safe and cherished." Jay's breath hitched, and without hesitation, he cupped your face, his touch gentle yet firm. "Can I kiss you?" Your response was immediate. "Yeah"

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world faded into the background as you melted into him. Jay's hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you close as he poured all his emotions into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, Jay rested his forehead against yours. "You're incredible," he whispered. You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time you both settled back onto the blanket, content to watch the stars emerge. Jay's arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"This is perfect," you sighed. "It really is," Jay agreed. "Thank you for being you." You tilted your head to look at him. "And thank you for being you."

As the night deepened, Jay pulled out a small portable light from the basket and set it up, casting a warm glow around you. He opened a box of snacks and offered you a piece of chocolate.

"Sweet for my sweet," he said playfully. You rolled your eyes but took the chocolate anyway. "You're cheesy." "And you love it," he teased, nudging you playfully.

As the stars twinkled above and the sound of the ocean filled the air, you realized that moments like these were what made life beautiful. With Jay by your side, everything felt right.

The night ended with you lying in his arms, your fingers tracing random patterns on his chest as he hummed softly.

"Let's do this more often" Jay suggested. "What, spontaneous beach dates?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah" he nodded. "But more importantly, spending time together. Just us, no distractions." "I'd love that," you agreed. Jay pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Good. Because you're stuck with me now."

You laughed, snuggling closer to him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[vldunchartedregions]

Voltron Season 8 Meta - The Ground Work

Before we start our episode-by-episode deep dive & broader analysis of Voltron Season 8...

I wanted to address our main philosophy and themes we will be touching on our journey together.

Firstly, every frame, expression, shot, angle, storyboard, character placement, dialogue? It is all intentionally chosen to cater to the story. Animation is expensive and Dreamworks banked on this show being the success. It was greenlit for 78 episodes off the bat, sectioned into 3 parts (26 episodes each).

MM: Okay. So at that time did you know it was a 78-episode contract?

JDS: Yes.

LM: Yes we did. That was probably one of our biggest lies. You know, sadly. We try not to lie too much, but I’ll tell you, I’m gonna blow-blow the whole industry up right now: if an animated show tells you they don’t know if they have a second season, they probably know they have a second season.

Let's Voltron - Episode 175 - Transcript by Team Purple Lion

---

Oh yes, Dreamworks & Netflix were banking on this project. Budget comes into play and the show would've had an overall budget set in stone for animation, voice actors, writers, background artists, the showrunners, directors, marketing, events, etc. the works.

Moving forward, we must keep this philosophy in mind - every decision reflected within an episode - the title, all frames, shots, character placements, and dialogue choices within an episode that we'll be dissecting always has the following:

Intentions - The What?

Motivation & Purpose - The Why?

In a great audiobook I listened to from Reggie Fils-Aimé, called Disrupting the Game (highly encourage you to listen to it if you're curious about his time as President of Nintendo), he goes through his career journey chapter-by-chapter, tells important stories that helped shape him into who he is, and then ends each chapter with "The Why."

Why am I saying this? ADHD, but I do also have a point; walk with me here.

We will be looking at each episode with the lens of dissecting the double meaning of the episode titles - including the what and the why; identifying the layers in each episode that reflect the title's original intention and purpose. Neil Kaplan explains this notion well with "Launch Date" in his interview with Afterbuzz TV (Season 8, Episode 1 & 2 Recap)

[Timestamped: 3:07] 2. We will be dissecting scenes with the notion of the "What & "Why?" - from character expressions, to placement, to how the edits in post-production that were requested disrupts all of the original intentions of the episode and/or shots.

3. We will be looking towards my secret source (apologies to you all, but I'm NOT revealing who it is - sit down with some popcorn instead and enjoy the ride) with the information they have provided + other sources of information we've uncovered or have been informed of, to make informed conclusions with evidentiary support. Every step we take will be an informed conclusion.

In short, everything has a purpose and we will be walking through all of this with some lovely nuggets of (alleged) truth to feed our conclusions from my sources.

We also must keep in mind: explanations, intentions, and motivations can change throughout this meta. Our conclusions now might not be the ones we decipher later on. Not everything we know may be the truth, and even if we are to assume that what I've been told is all facts (allegedly; for entertainment purposes only), some facts even from my source may shift our current knowledge into a new truth.

When I tell you we have been binge watching these episodes again, and again, and tearing them apart limb from limb with the information we have, we are not exaggerating. We keep uncovering more with each rewatch and my friends, it is fascinating.

With ALL of this in mind, let's dive into some of the broader themes of Season 8:

In the first half of Season 8, we are shown that the paladins have not always made the correct decisions in their time defending the universe. Their actions DO have consequences, and their decision making from the past bites them in the ass.

...Case in point. 2. In the second half of Season 8, we unlock a few new themes: Love, Rebellion, & Redemption.

We will also address the Macross Theory™ Love Triangle.

Religious themes that go much deeper into the show than we initially thought. Further influence from many mecha shows (oh yes, this includes Evangelion here, friends - get in the robot, Lance).

Please see a screenshot from a DM from my valuable source from New Year's Day:

I was going to censor this message a little... however, I think it's a bit more fun to give you a teaser for what's to come. It's probably not what you're expecting.

Again, I must implore to you all - these changes were asked for last minute, hence why Season 8 is such a hard watch to old fans and new:

It was DONE. COMPLETE. FINISHED.

BEFORE Season 7 dropped.

They were ready to take a grand ol' break before Season 8 was meant to drop. Walk the dogs, paint some walls, eat some food. Y'know, they were on holiday mode - ready to book flights, job well done team!!

There was an incredible story awaiting us that unfortunately ended up on the cutting-room floor. This was even mentioned by LM at the NYCC panel in 2018, but for this purpose, I'll use a quote from the Afterbuzz TV podcast - February 25th, 2019:

LM: It was–there’s a ton of stuff that just hit the-hit the, kinda, cutting room floor, storyboard-wise, just because we didn’t have the time and so we’re looking like, it’s a kids’ show technically still, even though we’re trying to make it more than that. You have a-a scene that’s basically an act long that’s just in a white floaty space with people talking about, like, you know–

JDS: Bigger emotional stuff-

LM: Yeah. And, uh, you know, letting that go any longer than that is just like, “You can’t do it!”

ABTV Voltron February 25 Season Review with Showrunners in Studio - Transcript by Team Purple Lion

---

Now that's all addressed, I do want to lay some ground rules as we proceed through this meta. I'm going to sound like a broken record, but I want to make this clear to the fandom:

It was NEVER the crew, cast, or showrunners intention for Season 8 to pan out this way. They had an entirely different vision as to where the show was heading + they were probably confident it wouldn't be changed by the time they finished it. There was direct, last minute, executive intervention here. Do not hunt down all parties for this as it has been several years.

We implore you to approach this meta with empathy and kindness. How heartbreaking would it be to be the crew, let alone the showrunners, to be asked to amend and revise all of Season 8 after painstaking, hard work and having the season done already? With NO budget left? You can agree to disagree with me here, but this is how we will be approaching this meta. Be kind.

Your feelings are valid - abusive, unwarranted behaviours and opinions are not. We were not there and we don't know the full story and how it unfolded, no matter how much context and bits of information we were given. We DO have evidentiary support to fuel this meta and piece together a look at what may have been the original ending (allegedly; don't get me wrong) but I wanted to make this clear - no sending hate to anyone.

In light of all of this, let us begin with a teaser: I'll share one confirmation I had from my source...

Lotor was meant to be brought back to life.

Check out my Twitter page for any and all updates in regards to this insanely detailed meta; including teasers and screenshots! Please and thank you.

---

Disclaimer: The one thing I humbly request is PLEASE... No hate towards the showrunners, cast, crew, or the official Voltron IP holders. There's a lot that has changed culturally and intrinsically within the industry over the years and this outcome was not something they could simply control. Let's be adults, look at this open conversation with empathy and love, and respectfully, let's indulge in this topic with grace - your feelings, however, are incredibly valid when it comes to this meta and what we uncover, as there's many alleged finds that may shock the fandom.

[bob-artist]

I'm gonna nerd out about comic process for a second!

That screenshot was from about a month ago, when I was coloring the first two episodes of Into the Smoke chapter 2. My coloring process is a little unhinged. First, I set up palettes, do base shading, and color basic backgrounds kind of simultaneously across an entire scene. So I'm actively working on 4-6 600dpi files with 60-200 final layers at a time. I also usually have a few references open from previous episodes.

(My iMac has beefy specs, and I never have any lag or performance issues, but I'm probably still driving it into the ground, lol.)

I do this stage on a non-screen tablet because I like being able to see everything at a straight angle on a very nice screen. (Mac screens are nicer than Wacom screens.)

After that, I fire up the Cintiq and do the actual serious work of shading.

I do most character shading in ITS with Kyle's lasso fill in PS. Almost all my shading on all my pages is done with two grayscale swatches (incidentally, #c2c2c2 an #e0e0e0) with different layer effects, and I just hit x to toggle between the swatches. I'll sometimes use white or a pale color for highlights, but my shading work is much more extensive than my highlights, and the shading colors are handled with gradient maps.

Backgrounds, highlights/lighting, and most of my other projects outside ITS are painted with brushes instead of lasso-filled. In addition to organizing my brushes by category, I have brush folders for specific projects, and I organize them so I can use keyboard shortcuts to sequence through the ones I use the most.

The first two episodes of ITS chapter 2 were really difficult to color because I hadn't colored an episode in like 8 months, so I had to re-learn how to do it. My natural style is more painted, so I kept accidentally over-rendering. It really took me until episode 3 to get the hang of it again.

I'm also much more comfortable with warm color palettes and warm lighting, so the sorta grungy cool palette for the interrogation room was a challenge. I need to do more cool palette and cool lighting studies. Episode 3 is back to warm, though! :D

Anyway, here you can see the in-progress color vs the final color!

And a few warmer palette panels with more typical shading for good measure. :)

[kero-cure]

Yuki Hayama answered my question and my appreciation comment reached to him

This is sequel (or prequel?) of my latest post. And this is a big thing for me that I can't keep it to myself.

Last year around before Christmas, Stardust Promotion (Yuki's agency) announced that they opened a Q&A box to ask Yuki about Boonboomger. So I decided to sent some questions to him. For fun, I think. Because my luck aren't that good when it's about this lol.

And today, The video was out. I was so distracted by Haruhi's surprise appearing so I didn't check the q&a answering video. (lol) But when I checked... WAIT!? THAT'S MY QUESTION!!??

My question was...

Hello, Hayama-kun. I'm fan from overseas. At first I'm Ishiro fan but the more I watch (Boonboomger), The more I like you too. So, As I read your previous interviews, I saw you trying your best to understand Ishiro's character and give so much effort to acting perfectly as him. Did you have times that you couldn't understand him? If you had, What's your solution? Finally, I have something to tell you too. I really appreciate you for how you doing your best in your acting. I'm so glad that Ishiro Meita is portrayed by Yuki Hayama. And I'm looking forward for your future.

That was pretty long because it have my appreciation comment towards him lol. Details is similar to this post if you could remember.

His answer that he gave me is, Actually it was very rare for him to understand Ishiro easily in one time script-reading. If he have a problem to understand his role, He'll think back to the words, settings and guideline that he received from director. And he'll create his way to act based on those.

The hardest time for him to understand Ishiro is this scene in EP 14. He was surprised when he heard about how Ishiro cried because of the fishes in the aquarium and he was struggle to understand. But in the end he though about those based settings, Reanalyze him again and finally he found the way and his background to understand him.

Finally he gave a feedback to my comment that I said "I'm glad that Ishiro is portrayed by you"

What you said to me make me happy for sure. Thank you very much.

And his smile made my heart fluttered. I feel like my feeling of love, thankful and respect towards him reached to him directly and finally I can return something to him who's being part of my happiness for a long time.

Full video is here. My question is on 6:30. Make sure to watch this before February 16th, 23:59 PM (JST). I already downloaded it of course.

Since my birthday is near, I'll take this as one of my early birthday present. I love you so much, My boy. I'll keep continue support you from now on.

[sysig]

Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

[daily-hanamura]

[ithacanradio]

"do you miss kissing?" is a bonkers line to say to your newly acquired ghost friend as you're dying of hypothermia ily charles rowland

[thechaoticfanartist]

They're sparring and Grim is getting a little cocky (she loses immediately after this)

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed) : @padme--amygdala @soclonely @mrfandomwars @jgvfhl @starlonkedd @andorlorian @togrutanduin @jedi-valjean @one-real-imonkey @traygaming @keoxus @veiled-in-stars @sentineljedi @spicysucculentz @it-was-rose @thejediprincessqueenofnaboo @veradragonjedi @arrthurpendragon @shrinkthisviolet @thebrainofocto @forloveofcodywan @mandalorian-general

[apalestar]

@galefcrce plotted starter.

An eventful evening not for the soiree or clandestine deals Astarion had in store. No, tonight his palace played host to a friend of old. Admittedly, he and Gale had not ended off on the best of terms. A lover scorned and all. Already a small entourage of Baldur's Gate richest and finest had gathered. The palace had never been more livelier.

And many of Cazador's old clients and connections were all too eager to latch onto another influential person. The infamous moniker attached to his name: Hero of the Gate. Who could resist not coming to his social events? And how foolish Duke Ravengard had been to give him a noble's title! It made him respectable even if the eyes of those who knew him when he was but his slave.

This was the crux of why he even considered extending his lover of old an invitation. Gale wanted something from him; a deal. Something of import for him in exchange for magical tomes the late bastard Szarr kept in his collections. All were property of Lord Ancunín now, of course.

The musicians played a classical tune meant for partnered dancing. The wine and hors d'oeuvres flowed from the kitchens. A perfect evening for playing nobility's game.

Astarion's chamberlain, a slight thing of a woman, approached him. One of the few mortal servants in the household. Every vampire needed at least one for appearances. "My Lord, your guest of honor has arrived." She spoke quietly only once he signaled for her to do so.

"Splendid. The highlight of my evening barring any assassinations. Those always make for an entertaining affair." Astarion dismissed her. He weaved himself in and out of the crowd dodging conversations with a polite, well-practiced smile. His roguish tendencies hadn't diminished since the fall of the cult.

"Gale of Waterdeep." He greeted with the same fervor any good patriar would of an old friend; even one as estranged as him. "So pleased I am to—" A pause. "—see you. I'd fear you'd be half dead before you came to chat."

[per1w1nkl3]

the return of the archons is another 'machine panic beacuse its the 60s' episode and I mean it's okay but the costumes??? their little outfits?? spock and his cloak jim and white button up + black bow tie thing (how do you even call it???) slayed. also. james was wearing makeup this episode. I dont think I need to say more.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: SUR'KESH

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Urdnot Wrex With: Lt. Steve Cortez, Dr. Mordin Solus, Major Kirrahe, and Urdnot Bakara And a Special Guest Appearance by: Adm. Steven Hackett Alliance R&D has officially begun construction on the Prothean device. The team has dubbed it: "Project Crucible". We're throwing everybody who knows how to throw a hammer at it. This is gonna be the most ambitious undertaking in human history. I'm not saying it won't be a challenge- but we can do this, Shepard. You can do this. Never doubt that. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

+BONUS (the smirk™️)

[sunflowercider]

-keeps adding themes and blatant symbolism in scenes where none were needed nor originally written for- why is it taking so long to finish these scenes?