#have no idea if all this translates into the story so i. wanted to show some of steve's thoughts too? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysteria157 · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Doggystyle, Fingering, Oral (m! receiving)…

WC: ~10k (grab your snacks)

Summary:

Nanami runs into a problem that every man dreads.

Now, you find yourself navigating the treacherous waters of his bruised ego and growing hysteria, armed with nothing but your unwavering love and a seemingly endless supply of patience, as you try to help him overcome this unexpected hurdle.

Notes: Hello! Trying to get back into the swing of writing again after so many weeks on a break and naturally Nanami is who I gravitate towards. I thought this one shot would be a funny idea, and as someone once told me, I wrote this with “my c*it on the keyboard.”

Please do not ask me for more related to this story. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

“Fuck, Kento,” you breathe, fingers digging into the satin of the pillow case beneath your head.

The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp bathes your intertwined bodies in a honeyed light, casting shadows that dance across your rich brown skin. Nanami’s lips, hot and insistent, trail a path of fire down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive hollow of your throat. He drags his teeth along your clavicle, brushes his lips between the skin of your breasts. A breathy moan escapes you as his tongue traces lazy, deliberate circles around an already-sensitive nipple, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

His hands, strong and sure, yet infinitely gentle, knead the soft flesh behind your knees, coaxing your legs to open wider, allowing him to sink deeper into the welcoming heat of your body. The blunt head of his cock grazes that sweet spot inside you with each measured thrust, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently begging for more.

Your hair, messy from his fingers, frames your face in a splatter of curls, some clinging to the sheen of sweat on your cheeks. The sight of you like this—open, wanting, completely his—nearly steals the breath from his lungs and makes him double down his efforts.

It’s been weeks since you’ve had this. Weeks of Kento stumbling home late from working overtime, collapsing into bed still fully clothed. Weeks of missed connections, family obligations, and movie nights cut short with you both passing out on the couch. But tonight, finally, you have each other, free from the demands of the world outside.

As Nanami moves within you, his honey-wheat hair, usually so perfectly styled, falls in soft, tousled waves across his forehead, clinging to the perspiration that glistens on his brow. The strong line of his jaw is taut with concentration, a muscle jumping beneath the skin in a way that makes your fingers itch to trace its contours. His eyes, normally a cool, observant umber, now burn with a fierce intensity, a volatile mix of desire and something else, something harder to define.

But even as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your lovemaking, in the exquisite slide of skin against skin, you can’t help but notice the weariness etched into the lines of Nanami’s face, the slight tremor in his hands as they map the contours of your body. He’s been working himself to the bone, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, and it shows in the tension of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. You had tried to get him to sleep when he sagged through the front door, but he was insistent, clawing at your too-big t-shirt, silent and too stubborn to listen to his body as he licked into your hot mouth.

He’s so tired. Mind still running through quarterly reports and half-completed project plans. But he won’t let that deter him. He’s determined to focus—to savor this moment, to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of your skin, to surrender to the tremors that course through him as your fingers ghost up his back. You marvel at the play of muscles beneath his skin, at the flex and release of his broad shoulders with each movement—a reminder of the strength he usually keeps so carefully controlled.

But as he leans in to capture your lips, that traitorous whisper of doubt in his mind grows in volume. That exhaustion that melted away from your touch has retreated to within him, to course through the blood in his veins and manifest again in its own, evil way at the apex of his thighs. Nanami’s movements falter, his rhythm turning erratic, unsure. You feel a change in him, a hesitation that wasn’t there before, and your heart clenches with concern. His brow furrows, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tries to hold onto the moment, to keep the passion burning between you. The confidence that usually radiates from him when you are both between the sheets seems to waver, leaving in its wake a man grappling with an unfamiliar sense of inadequacy.

He doesn’t want to believe it. He refuses to acknowledge the treacherous thought creeping into his mind. His cock, moments ago hard as a rock and pulsing within you, is betraying him. He digs one hand into the pillow beneath your head, fingers tangling in your curls, savoring the sharp gasp you shake out, desperately willing himself to focus on your heat, on your breath ghosting across his face—anything but the waning firmness of his erection.

With a low grunt, he thrusts deeper so there’s no room for his cock to leave you. The movement is sharper than usual, a force that has no trace of his care behind it and it immediately makes you blink through the fog of pleasure in your mind. You notice the change, concern filling you as you take in the tumultuous emotions on his face. His blonde hair falls in thick tufts over his forehead, brushing against the deepening crease between his eyebrows.

“Ken?” Your voice is soft, a gentle caress. You bring a hand to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as if your soft skin might anchor and keep him focused. “Is everything alright?”

Everything is far from alright.

It’s a nightmare scenario that Nanami can’t bring himself to voice. But he knows you feel it. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against your vanilla skin, his fingers digging almost painfully into the flesh of your hips. He drives his hips deeper, angling upwards, trying desperately to lose himself in your pliant body.

But with his next thrust, the cruel truth becomes undeniable. What was once hard steel is now unbearably soft, slipping out of you as his hips collide with yours. Your gasp mirrors his shock as he jerks his head up to meet your gaze. The mortification in his eyes is palpable, a stark contrast to the passion that burned there mere moments ago.

“Ken, it’s okay—” you begin, but he’s already retreating, both physically and emotionally, his walls slamming back into place, shutting you out. You can practically see him retreating into himself, his shoulders hunching, his jaw clenching with a stubbornness of wounded pride.

“Hey, no, we aren’t doing this,” you insist, voice firm and laced with quiet determination.

You reach for him, your fingers wrapping around a thick wrist, anchoring him to you. You’ve spent years chipping away at his defenses, learning every facet of his being, and you refuse to let him shut you out now over something like this. This isn’t just embarrassment—it’s a fundamental shaking of his self-image, a crack in the foundation of who Nanami believes himself to be. An affliction that every man prays to the gods never finds them.

Limp dick.

You gently pull Nanami back to rest between your thighs, his weight a comforting shield against the cool air of your shared bedroom. Your fingers weave through his hair, feeling the tension thrumming through his body as he settles against you.

“Kento,” you murmur, your voice a low, soothing melody in the quiet room. “Look at me.”

He stills for a heartbeat, two, before raising his head, his eyes meeting yours. In their depths, you see a swirling maelstrom of emotions—frustration, embarrassment, shame. He’s tousled hair and flushed cheeks, an overwhelming exhaustion and stress etched beneath his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, cradling his face in your hands. Your thumbs trace the high arch of his cheekbones, feeling the heat of his skin. “This happens. It doesn’t change a thing—not how I feel, not how much I love you, none of it.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches under your palms, the muscle pulsing, a physical manifestation of the turmoil brewing within him. His gaze falls, unable to hold yours, as if the weight of his perceived failure is too much to bear. “I should be able to—”

“To what?” you interject, your voice gentle but firm. “To be some infallible sex god?” A soft laugh escapes you, your lips curving into a tender smile. “To never have limp dick?”

Those warm eyes glare at you, not at all amused by your light-hearted but poignantly accurate joke. “Now is not the time for a joke,” he grits out, his voice tight, strained.

“Now is exactly the time for a joke,” you counter, your thumb tracing the slight cracks of his bottom lip. You can sense his next moves, your body attuned to his very soul, feeling his inclination to withdraw, to roll over and brood, to let this momentary setback fester into something more. You tighten your thighs around his waist, refusing to let him drift away. “How long have we been together, Kento?”

“Three years.” His answer is immediate, automatic, a testament to the depth of your bond.

“And in that time, has this ever happened before?”

Your eyes lock—a silent battle of wills, logic against stubborn pride. He understands your point, recognizes the truth in your words, but his stubbornness matches your own. “No,” he admits, the word a reluctant concession.

“You’re human, Kento. Wonderfully, beautifully human, and the sexiest man I’ve ever known. Performance issues or not.”

He scoffs, but you feel his shoulders slacken, his body melting into yours as he exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from his muscles. His arms tighten around you, calloused hands splaying across the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if your touch alone could chase away the demons of self-doubt. Those beautiful golden strands tickle your cheeks as he nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“Is that so?” he finally murmurs, and you can hear the small smile in his voice, a welcome change from the earlier tension. For as reserved as he is, Nanami preens under any sort of compliments you give him, a chink in his armor of cool composure.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, your hands sliding down to appreciate the firm planes of his back. “It’s a shame, really. You attract too much attention. I’ve been too generous with how long I let you out of the house.”

You feel more than hear his soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours. Nanami pulls back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability from before hasn’t completely faded, but it’s tempered by a familiar spark of determination kindling in their depths. You don’t know if the subject has completely dropped. But for now, he doesn’t seem to dwell on it, content to focus on you instead.

“Well,” he begins, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety tone that never fails to send shivers cascading down your spine, “I should ensure your satisfaction. Maybe then you’ll extend my hours outside.”

Before you can respond, he’s moving. He sits up on his knees, hot hands wrapping around your waist before yanking your hips closer to him, a delicious show of strength that has your breath catching in your throat. Your giggle of surprise quickly morphs into a gasp as his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue sliding against the skin before it trails down the rest of your body, leaving a path of desire that makes you shudder against him.

You expected a period of adjustment, a gradual return to the easy intimacy you and Nanami had always shared. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift, subtle at first, but growing more pronounced with each passing day.

That first sign of something odd presents itself on day three since that night, a quiet Saturday morning that dawns with a gentle golden light filtering through your bedroom curtains. You wake up to find Nanami’s side of the bed empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Puzzled, you pad into the living room, your bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor, your eyes roaming the space for any sign of him.

Nanami sits at the dining table, surrounded by a veritable fortress of books, their spines forming a colorful barricade around his hunched form. His laptop glows in the morning light, casting his features in a pale blue hue, multiple tabs visible on the screen. He’s hunched over and shirtless, his bare back a canvas of dark moles, constellations you’ve traced countless times with reverent fingers, your lips mapping a path between each celestial point.

As you circle the table, drawing closer to his absorbed form, you’re struck by the intensity of his concentration, the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. His fingers fly over the keyboard with a single-minded purpose, a man on a mission, lost in a world of his own making.

“What are you doing up so early?” you ask, running a hand through the short, silky hair at his nape.

He glances up, and the determined glint in his eye catches you off guard. “Research,” he replies simply, as if that single word explains everything.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you lean in to examine the book titles scattered across the table, your brow rising with each passing second:

Male Sexual Health

Nutrition and Libido

Stress Management for Peak Performance

What the—?

A mix of emotions bubbles up inside you—amusement at his determination, concern for his state of mind, a touch of exasperation at his stubbornness. Part of you wants to tease him mercilessly, to watch that adorable flush creep up his neck, to see him squirm under your playful attention. But you bite your tongue, sensing the fragility of the moment, the rawness of his exposed insecurities.

“Ken,” you begin, your voice a delicate balance of understanding and concern, “is this about what happened the other night? I thought we talked about this, baby.”

“We did,” he nods, not looking up from his screen. “And I appreciate your understanding. But I can’t let it happen again. I’m going to fix this.”

There’s so much you want to say, so many reassurances you want to offer. You want to tell him how normal this is, how surprised you are that it hasn’t happened more often given his grueling work schedule. But you bite your tongue, sensing that this is something Nanami needs to process on his own.

“Don’t you think this might be…a bit much?” you try one last time, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his bare shoulder, careful not to make him feel defensive and push him further into his own head.

“Nothing is too much when it comes to satisfying you.”

And with those words, spoken with such conviction, such raw honesty, your heart swells, a tidal wave of love and affection crashing over you. He won’t be swayed, and there’s no point in trying to argue with him when he’s set on something. You can’t help but sigh fondly, running your fingers through his hair again, your nails gently scratching his scalp in the way you know he loves. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, a low groan of appreciation rumbling from his chest as he guides your fingers to just the right spot.

As Nanami launches into an explanation of the benefits of Ashwagandha root, his fingers running along a line of text in one of the magazines, you can’t help but shake your head affectionately. You love this man, even (or perhaps especially) when he’s being ridiculously over-the-top, his determination to be the best partner he can be, even if it means diving headfirst into a world of herbal remedies and performance-enhancing techniques.

The days slip by, each one blurring into the next, a haze of normalcy tinged with an undercurrent of unease. It’s not until the morning of day ten that the true extent of Nanami’s newfound obsession becomes impossible to ignore.

The soft schick of his razor fills the bathroom, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rush of running water. He stands before the mirror, shirtless, a towel draped over his broad shoulders to catch stray flecks of shaving cream. You watch, transfixed, as he meticulously glides the razor along the sharp line of his jaw, each stroke precise, measured.

You stand beside him, your own morning ritual underway, massaging a rich, creamy lotion into your melanin-kissed skin. Your favorite scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with the crisp, clean aroma of Nanami’s shaving cream. It’s a familiar dance, this shared moment of grooming, of preparation for the day ahead.

But as you reach for your leave-in, your eyes catch on something new, something that sends a jolt of surprise through your system. There, amidst the clutter of skincare products and toiletries, sits a new addition to the growing collection of bottles on the counter. The mustard-yellow label boldly proclaims: “Maca Root: For Vitality and Stamina”.

“Ken?” you murmur, plucking the bottle from the counter, your eyebrows dipping in confusion. “What’s this?”

Nanami’s eyes flick to yours in the mirror, his hand pausing mid-stroke, the razor hovering just above his skin. “Just a supplement,” he evades, his voice carefully neutral, a forced casualness he uses to avoid arguments he won’t win that always sets your teeth on edge. “For…overall health.”

You turn the bottle in your hands, eyebrow arching higher in disbelief with each word you read as you take in the bold, almost aggressive labeling. Your gaze darts to the other bottles littering the counter, a growing sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you take them in for the first time.

“Uh-huh. And the Zinc? The Ginseng? The…” you squint at another label, your voice dripping with skepticism, “L-arginine? All for ‘overall health’ too?”

He clears his throat, his gaze darting away from yours, focusing intently on his reflection as he studiously avoids your probing stare. “That’s right.”

“Baby—” you begin, but he cuts you off, setting down his razor with a definitive clink and shutting the water off, turning to face you fully.

The sight of him, bare-chested and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent light, sends a bolt of desire through you, a hunger that’s been left unsatiated for far too long. The thick cords of muscle that stretch across his chest and arms, the taut planes of his abdomen, the trail of dark blonde hair that disappears beneath the low-slung waistband of his sweatpants—it’s exquisite torture, a feast for your senses after days of famine.

But there’s a tension in the set of his shoulders, a skittishness in his gaze that sets off warning bells in your head.

“It’s the research I’ve been doing,” he admits, almost apologetic as he pulls the towel from his shoulders, wiping away the last traces of shaving cream from his jaw. “From what I’ve read, these have proven benefits for…various aspects of wellbeing.”

He seems almost afraid, as if he’s bracing himself for your reaction, steeling himself against the inevitability of your displeasure. Fortunately for him, the words are like a match to kindling, a spark that ignites a flame of mischief in your belly. You step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, the supplement bottle forgotten on the counter behind you.

“Various aspects, huh?” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. This moment—when he smells of fresh soap, shaving cream, and mint toothpaste before cologne masks his natural scent—is one of many favorites. It’s one of the most arousing forms of Nanami Kento before he slides on his work clothes and gives the world a straight face and measured words. “Care to demonstrate some of these benefits?”

Your fingertips trace the muscles of his chest, slide along his skin with more purpose, your nails dragging lightly over his nipples, a teasing hint of pain that you know drives him wild. He inhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your hands, his jaw clenched tight, a reaction that’s as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

For a moment, you think you have him, that he’ll give in to the desire that darkens his eyes, that he’ll roughly bunch your skirt up around your waist, hike your legs up and around him and make the bathroom mirror knock against your back until you’re gasping out his name as you tighten around his cock.

But then he’s stepping back, his hands coming up to gently catch your wrists, pulling your hands away from his skin.

“We’ll be late for work,” voice strained, conveying his own battling desire. He brings your hands to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the delicate skin of your wrists, your forehead, your mouth.“Let me make you breakfast instead.”

And then he’s gone, slipping past you and out of the bathroom, leaving you standing alone, frustration and disappointment warring in your chest. Your gaze falls on the supplement bottles, a physical manifestation of his growing hysteria, and for a moment, you’re seized by the urge to sweep them all into the trash, to rid your home of these unwelcome interlopers.

But you resist, drawing in a deep, steadying breath, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you silently repeat the mantra that’s become your lifeline in recent days: I love him. I love him. I love him.

But as you square your shoulders and stalk out of the bathroom to start your day, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s got to give, that this tenuous balance can’t hold forever.

Day seventeen. It feels like an eternity, a cruel and unusual punishment for a crime you didn’t commit. You’re a prisoner in your own home, trapped in a world where the man you love is just out of reach, tantalizingly close but impossibly distant.

Seventeen days too long when you live with a man as loving, kind, and attentive as Nanami Kento. Seventeen excruciating days since the concept of getting dicked down was a given, a pleasure you could indulge in whenever the mood struck. Now, you’re reduced to grasping at sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths—anything for a crumb of cock, a fleeting taste of the intimacy you crave.

You’ve become a connoisseur of stolen moments, of fleeting glances and brushing touches that once held the promise of so much more. A shared look in the bathroom mirror that used to lead to soapy sex in the shower. The brush of his hand against the small of your back as you pass in the hallway, a touch that used to lead to him pulling you flush against his body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. Now, you’re like an addict, desperately chasing the ghost of a high, sucking at nicotine-stained fingers for the essence of a hit.

In a last-ditch effort to reignite the spark to show him just how much he’s overreacting, you’ve taken to wearing his shirts around the house. You leave the top buttons undone, a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage on display, the hem riding high on your thighs to reveal the faint marks that he likes to lick against. But each night when you reach for him, Nanami simply presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips trailing a path down your body in a reverent exploration, worshiping you with his mouth and fingers until you’re trembling and spent.

But never with his cock. Never with the part of him you crave most, the part that once made you feel so deliciously full, so utterly claimed.

You feel dramatic when you think about it because it always brings tears to your eyes, hot and stinging with frustration and despair. Like you’re a petulant toddler wanting a cookie that’s been sitting on the counter all morning.

You’ve never been one to let a man dictate your life, to let his whims and insecurities hold sway over your own desires. But Nanami has always been a man to put you above and beyond anything before himself. If the women of the world knew what they were missing, if they could experience even a fraction of the pleasure Nanami Kento can provide, they’d be falling to their knees in supplication, just like you.

How far you’ve fallen.

And how little you care.

Tonight, you vow, will be different. You slip into the silk nightgown he loves, the one that clings to your every curve like a second skin, the baby blue fabric whispering against your heated flesh as you step out of the bathroom. Your heart races with anticipation, your body thrumming with need as you picture his reaction, the way his eyes will darken with desire, the way he’ll pull you into his arms and finally, finally give you what you both so desperately need.

But the bedroom is empty, the sheets still neatly made, mocking you with their pristine perfection. You frown, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you pad down the hallway, your bare feet whispering against the cool hardwood. As you approach the kitchen, a pungent, almost medicinal smell hits your senses, growing stronger with each step, mingling with the whir of a blender.

You round the corner and freeze, taking in the scene before you. Nanami stands at the kitchen counter, surrounded by an alchemist’s array of strange-looking roots and powders. The blender in front of him churns away, filled with a murky-greenish-brown liquid that looks more like something out of a horror movie than anything fit for human consumption.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice thin and strained, confusion and exasperation warring for dominance in your tone.

He looks up, startled, nearly knocking over a jar of what looks like dried herbs. “It’s…a health shake.”

You want to argue, to shake his shoulders and scream that this has gone too far, that he’s lost sight of what really matters in his quest for some unattainable ideal. But the determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he grimaces as he chokes down a sip of the vile concoction—it all speaks to a desperation that breaks your heart even as it fuels your frustration.

As he takes another sip, nose twisted to the side to avoid the foul smell, his eyes catch your frame. They roam over you, taking in the nightgown, giving you the exact reaction you pictured before coming out here.

For a moment, you see that flicker of desire in his eyes that you’ve been craving.

But then it’s gone, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“I’ll come to bed soon,” he promises, grimacing through another sip of his vile brew. “Get some rest. I know today was rough at work.”

His words are like a knife to your gut, a reminder of the distance that’s grown between you, the way his obsession has consumed him so completely that he can’t even see the pain it’s causing you both.

All of this, because of one night.

You press your toes into the hardwood, your fingers twisting in the hem of your nightgown as you fight back the tears that burn the corners of your eyes.

“You…you don’t want to come to bed with me?” you whisper, hating the way your voice breaks, the way the hope that once buoyed your words has been replaced by a hollow, aching despair and annoyance.

“I want to finish this and catch up on a few things for work before I come to bed.” His gaze slides away from yours, unable to meet the hurt and frustration in your eyes. Unable to see just how in his head he has become with all of this. “It’ll be a little while. Sleep for me? Please?”

The rejection, however gentle, leaves you feeling exposed and bereft, a physical blow to your gut. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore, and turn to head back to the bedroom, your vision blurring.

There’s so much more to this than just you wanting to have sex. You want to be supportive, to give him time and space to work through whatever this is. But you hate just how disillusioned he has become. His gaze and his touch are tainted now—held back by shame and fear of disappointing you. And you can’t help but feel like this is getting more out of control instead of getting better.

You love him, more than anything. But right now, listening to the distant sounds of him choking down that awful-smelling shake, you’ve never felt further apart.

It all comes to a head on day twenty-five. The day dawns like any other, the sun’s warm rays filtering through the windows of your shared apartment, casting a soft glow on the well-worn furniture and the mementos of your life together. It’s your day off, a rare respite from the chaos of the work week, and you find yourself moving through the space with a sense of purpose, straightening and cleaning, trying to bring order to the disarray that seems to mirror the state of certain parts of your relationship.

As you work, your mind wanders, replaying the events of the past month like a melancholy film reel. The distance, the tension, the way Nanami has been pulling away from you, retreating into himself in a desperate attempt to fix what he perceives as a fundamental flaw in his being. Insisting that he won’t let this happen again even though he won’t actually fuck you.

It’s a weight that’s been bearing down on you both, a shadow that’s slowly suffocating the light and love that once filled every corner of your lives.

Your feet carry you to the bedroom, to the closet you share. As you reach for Nanami’s side, intent on straightening his crisp dress shirts, your hand brushes against something unfamiliar, tucked away in the shadows. Curiosity piqued, you pull it out, revealing a plain, unmarked brown box.

For a moment, your heart stutters in your chest, a cold fear gripping your insides as you lift the lid, praying that it’s nothing that would point your partner in the direction of infidelity. But no, you shake your head, banishing the thought before it can fully form. Nanami would never betray you, never seek solace in the arms of another because there’s only has and ever been you.

It makes complete sense in your head, but lately—

You yank open the lid and gape.

Inside, nestled among crumpled tissue paper, are items you never expected to find in Nanami’s possession. Your fingers tremble slightly as you examine them—a cylindrical pump, clear save for the rubber base, and an orange prescription bottle, its label stark against the translucent plastic.

You stare at the objects, your mind whirling with a chaotic storm of emotions. Shock, disbelief, a rising tide of frustration and despair. This isn’t just Nanami being health-conscious anymore, not just a passing phase or a well-intentioned attempt at self-improvement. This is something deeper, something more desperate, a manifestation of the fear and inadequacy that’s been eating away at him since that fateful night.

Carefully, you replace the items, your movements mechanical, your thoughts a jumbled mess. A part of you wants to laugh, to find the absurdity in the situation, to release the tension that’s been building in your chest like a pressure cooker. But you can’t bring yourself to even stifle a giggle, the weight of your worry too heavy.

You sink down onto the bed, the cool sheets soothing the heat of your legs, and draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The weeks of distance, avoidance, the way Nanami has been retreating further and further into himself, straying more and more from reason. There’s so much more to your relationship than just sex, but it’s a big part, a well-practiced part that you both can be your rawest selves during.

But all of this is a spiral that’s slowly dragging you both down, a vortex of unspoken fears and mounting frustrations on both ends.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your shared life in your apartment, the photos and trinkets that chronicle your love story, you know that something has to give. And it looks like you’ll have to take matters into your own hands. This ends today.

Tonight, when Nanami gets home, you’ll address this head-on. No more dancing around the issue, no more swallowing your grievances in the name of patience and nonexistent understanding. It’s time to remind him of who he is, of the man you fell in love with, the man who’s always been more than enough for you.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you from your thoughts, the soft shuffle of Nanami’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. “Love, I’m home,” he calls out, his voice weary but warm, a balm to your frayed nerves.

He appears in the doorway, his tie loosened, speckled black on yellow draped over his shoulders, the top buttons of his blue shirt undone. His glasses are gone, discarded in his haste to shed the trappings of the office, to leave the stresses of the day behind. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they land on you, a reverent smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So beautiful.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, at the love and adoration that shines in his gaze, even though you’re in a ratty t-shirt and shorts, your curls thrown into a careless and messy bun.

“You always speak as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen me,” you tease, tilting your head back to accept his kiss, a chaste press of his lips that nonetheless ignites a spark of longing in your core.

“Because it’s true,” he replies simply, his fingers brushing a stray curl behind your ear. “I’m going to shower.” He sounds despondent, unbelievably ragged with the weight of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

“Rough day?”

“A very rough day, my love,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, disrupting the sharp part that he makes every morning. He reaches a hand out to you, an invitation, a plea for your company. “Join me?”

The bathroom is a sanctuary of steam and heat, the air thick with the mingled scents of your body washes—cucumber melon and sandalwood. You perch on the counter, a fluffy towel wrapped around your body, watching as Nanami goes through his post-shower routine, his movements methodical, almost meditative.

Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing tantalizing paths down the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your fingers itching to follow those rivulets, to map the contours of his body with your lips and tongue.

“Let me,” you murmur, your voice husky with repressed longing. Your legs spread, the open lapels of your towel exposing a creamy brown thigh that Nanami’s eyes flicker to before he meets your gaze. You reach for him, pulling closer until he’s standing between your parted thighs, the heat of his waist seeping through the thin barrier of your towel.

With gentle fingers, you work through the rest of his skincare routine—toner, serum, smoothing eye cream over the delicate skin beneath his lashes. The domesticity of the moment, the intimacy of caring for him like this in whatever way you can, it’s a way to show him that you’re here—that you’re not going anywhere, no matter how lost he may feel.

Your fingertips glide over his skin, applying the last of the face cream with gentle circular motions. As you finish, your hands move to his damp hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead. The strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes that crease faintly when he smiles.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, a soft smile playing on your lips. Nanami’s hands come to rest on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on your towel-covered skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, thickly. His eyes, those warm pools of mahogany, are soft with gratitude and affection.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with love for this man.

Nanami leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It’s meant to be a simple gesture of gratitude, but something shifts in the air around you. Whether it’s the intimacy of you both so close or the heat on your skin—the kiss deepens, slow and exploratory, as if you’re rediscovering each other after a long absence.

Your fingers thread through his damp hair, tangling in the strands as his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue slides along his bottom lip, tasting the coffee he must have had on the way home, the hint of want that he wants to crumble into. He returns with equal fervor, pressing closer to you, sliding his tongue against yours, shivering from the soft moan that shakes from your wet lips when you both finally break apart. A gossamer thread of saliva connects you before he pecks your lips one last time. Nanami’s chest rises and falls deeply, coiled masculinity oozing from his pores, tangling with the downy hairs on his chest.

“Kento,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, “we…we need to talk about what’s been going on.”

Your hands train down his chest as you speak, mapping the familiar terrain of his body. Beneath your fingertips, his heart thunders like a trapped bird, betraying the melting calm facade he’s trying to maintain. The defined muscles of his abdomen twitch under your touch, a visceral reaction he can’t control.

“The magazines, the supplements, the smoothies,” you continue, gentle but firm. “This has gone too far. One off night, Kento. That’s all it was. Yet here you are, acting like you’re broken, like every moment we’ve shared before was somehow lacking.”

Nanami tenses, his body coiling like a spring beneath your hands. But you’re not letting him retreat—not like that night—and certainly not right now. Your legs wrap around his waist, the gap of your towel widening as you yank him closer, anchoring him to you, skin to skin.

“You think that I would look at you differently?” you murmur, catching his distressed eyes every time they try to evade your gaze, willing him to understand. “Think I would think of you as a failure? You like logic, Kento and I’m telling you the facts. You were tired, case closed.”

“But I—” he starts, his voice rough with emotion, eyes narrowing in frustration as he tries to defend himself. You silence him with a thumb to the plump skin of his bottom lip, tracing the divots of soft, pink flesh.

“You’re the healthiest man I know, Ken.” Your other hand drifts lower, brushing through the trail of dark golden hair that disappears beneath his towel. “You take such good care of us. And you never, ever fail to satisfy me.”

His breath catches as your fingers ghost over his hipbones, alternating between soft cotton and the sharp cut of his skin. “One night doesn’t change that,” you whisper, the hand on his face sliding to card through his hair, you lean in to press your lips to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers dig into your waist from your touch, Adams apple bobbing against your gliding lips as he swallows the burning desire that’s slowly searing him from the inside out. “It doesn’t make you any less amazing, any less desirable.”

You pull back, meeting his eyes. In their warm depths, you see a swirling mix of vulnerability that makes your heartache.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you again. While I know that you don’t care, being unable to provide for you fully is something that I never wanted to experience.” The confession is thick in the air, sloshing with what remains of the steam from the shower, coating your skin.

“Oh, Kento,” you sigh, pressing your forehead to his. The scent of his skin—clean soap and something uniquely him—envelops you, offers that blanket of protection that you couldn’t imagine going away. “The only thing disappointing me is how you’ve been pulling away. I’m tired of you feeling inadequate when you’re anything but.”

You pause, weighing the options in your head before you take a bounding leap, throwing care to the wind. Slowly, deliberately, you slide off the counter, your body brushing against his as you descend. The cool tile of the bathroom floor contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from your skin.

Kneeling before him, you look up, your gaze never leaving his. Hands slide up thick thighs, the hair on his legs brushing against your fingertips as you travel further toward the rigid heat of where you need him most. The hitch in his breath is faint, almost nonexistent when your fingers toy with the towel’s edge around his waist. You only wait a moment, three seconds too many as your hand undoes the tight knot and the towel pools at his feet and your knees on the floor.

He’s just as he always is—thick and heavy from your proximity alone, hard and filled with the blood that pumps wildly in his veins. When you wrap your hand around him, the heft of his cock makes your cunt squeeze. You know exactly what it feels like to have the most intimate part of him carving out your insides, and god do you need it right now.

You give only one stroke and the effect is instant; Nanami hisses, fingers flexing at his sides, extending and then curling in a fist as a means to keep his hands to himself, the head of his mushroom tip red and prickles with a thick gathering of precum. Just the sight makes your mouth water.

“I found those things in your closet, you know,” you purr softly, stroking him at an excruciating pace. “You actually think you need something like that, baby?”

A flush creeps up Nanami’s neck, blooming across his cheeks in rushing embarrassment even though his pupils are dilated from the sight of you on your knees. He opens his mouth to speak, fumbling for words that choke around another hitch with your next stroke.

“You don’t feel like you would need something like that.” And you don’t wait a second longer, opening your mouth, dragging the flat of your tongue up the backside of his cock. Each taste bud slides against rigid bumps of veins, gathering with more spit as he groans from your attention. You offer a gentle kiss to his tip, licking the salty taste of his precum from your lips. “You sure don’t taste like you would need something like that.”

The rise and fall of his chest is quickly leaving the pace of steady, his eyes locked on you and jaw flexing with growing desperation. You squeeze his cock on an upward stroke, your own body beginning to heat up just from watching him fall apart.

“Look at you now,” you tease, widening the gap between your knees, the heat between your legs radiating against your ankles. “You don’t look like you need help. Responding so beautifully to me. Not a hint of hesitation.”

The velvety hardness of him in your palm twitches from your words, hard steel that’s blazing hot, and just the sight of him above you is more than enough for a whine to build in your belly, an innate urge to have any part of him inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes flutter, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones as you lean in. When you finally take him into your mouth, your name falls from his lips like a prayer, brown eyes rolling halfway to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowing in equal confusion and pleasure.

You’re too eager to give him time to adjust—tongue swirling around the crown of his head and softening underneath him before building a nice, slobbery rhythm. In and out, in and out. Every stroke of your mouth around his cock makes your mouth water even more and your body relax, the dig of the tile on your knees forgotten.

“Fuck,” he pants, the rare curse slipping from his lips as one hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head. You hum in appreciation—in encouragement—building his confidence to squeeze the curly strands. The vibration of your hum of attention causes Nanami’s hips to buck involuntarily and you let your throat relax without thinking, let him hit the back before you swallow around him. “I-” he bites his lip, groaning from deep in his chest.

The heat of the bathroom is suffocating, your neck covered in curls prickling with sweat, sliding down your clavicle and onto the towel around your breasts that’s quickly loosening. Or maybe it’s your own body burning from the inside out, your blood pounding and surging to your core, swelling with arousal that leaks from you without even touching yourself.

And you’re dripping. The hand not at the base of him—stroking what you can’t swallow—reaches between your thighs, rubbing a clit that’s sopping wet with slick that drips between your fingers and onto the tile floor.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar ache to build in your jaw, a growing reminder of the thick cock between your mouth. But his throaty moans keep you going, keep your cunt pulsing and squeezing around the two fingers that quickly slide inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes, dark with desire, take you in—your messy hand twisting at the base of his cock, the hint of saliva on your chin, the prickle of tears at the corners of your eyes from the way he keeps hitting the back of your throat. Only he gets to see you like this. Only he gets to be with someone who will stop at nothing to make him feel supported and loved over something as trivial as a night of bad luck.

“I…you’re…” he gasps, unable to complete his thoughts when you moan around him. “Please just—just keep…don’t stop…don’t—”

As the tension builds, Nanami’s control begins to slip. His thrusts lose their measured control, the hands in your hair tighten, the quick breath from his mouth becomes tight as he bares his teeth and fucks your mouth. His abs are glistening with sweat, tight and flexing as he fights to stay sane.

You’re ready to burst from the seams, pleasure coiling at the base of your spine with each curl of your fingers inside of you, moans tight and sporadic in a familiar sign of your impending orgasm.

It’s when his eyes catch you fingering yourself that his control snaps in half, setting him off. He’s grabbing at you, yanking you from your knees with a strength that shocks you, your towel finally falling off your body and exposing you to the heat of the bathroom. Before you can protest, Nanami moves in a flourish, the last threads of his control dissolving at the shocked but excited gasp that leaves your lips.

In one fluid motion, he spins you around to face the bathroom mirror. Your breath catches at the sight of you both—flushed, desire-drunk, tanned and freckled muscles pressed against your back. His eyes meet yours in the reflection, a primal hunger burning in their depths, black eating away the warm brown.

The press of his cock against your lower back makes you arch your back, leaning over the counter without a second thought, taking him in through the mirror. His hands roam over your body with renewed confidence, cupping the heaviness of your breasts, sliding down tiger-striped brown skin to grip your hips. His eyes trail over the mess of curls on your sweaty back, the curve of your ass, the glistening of your cunt as it catches in the bathroom light.

He looks focused, almost angry—determined to make sure he does exactly what he’s supposed to do. Your body shivers in anticipation. This is the Nanami you’ve been missing—strong, confident, and utterly, deliciously yours.

Without preamble, you part your legs more, opening yourself up to his leering gaze as he watches you slide two fingers through your sopping folds. “I need you,” you whisper, your other hand kneading the flesh of a breast, pinching the nipple to make you arch your back more into him.

He presses forward at the sound of your voice, a beacon for him to bring you whatever you desire. “You have me.”

You feel him, hot and hard against you, and you can’t stifle the moan that escapes you. “All of you Kento,” you whimper, pushing back against him and stroking your clit faster, your slick sliding down your fingers to the center of your palm. “No more holding back, no more doubts. Show me how much you want me.”

In the mirror, the trepidation in his eyes, the worry between his brows. The disappointment from that night is surely playing in his head, teasing him evilly that he will never be able to make love to you again. But you won’t let him feel that way again, you’ll never let him feel inadequate. So you turn slightly to reach behind you, smooth a hand up the side of his face, caressing his jaw, angling your head to the side to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect,” you breathe, the words barely a whisper between you both, the perfect combination to relax the subtle tension in his shoulders. “So perfect for me, Kento.”

He releases a shaky exhale against your lips from your words, the vibration traveling through your body where you’re pressed together. With one hand braced on your waist, the other guiding himself, his eyes not leaving yours, Nanami pushes into you slowly. Finally. Twenty-five days too late and the feeling of completeness, of absolute rightness, is overwhelming. It’s as if a missing piece of you has been slotted back into place.

You whimper, panting into his mouth, sliding your lips messily against his. Your body stretches to accommodate him, a delicious burn that makes your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him.

“Oh fuck, Kento,” you keen, “you’re so fucking big—fill me so well—” His hips snap forward, cutting you off, a sharp cry punching from your lungs.

“I-I shouldn’t have—” he pants against your lips, ready to apologize from the force but you don’t let him finish.

“Yes,” you encourage, your voice breathy from the delicious zing of pleasure that throbs between your legs. “You feel amazing, Ken. So perfect.”

He shivers from your words and starts a slow, almost tentative rhythm. But your continued praise spurs him on. His thrusts become more confident, more forceful, driving you both higher in the stifling heat of your bathroom.

The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slick smack of skin on skin, breathless moans from his full lips, whispered praises from your mouth.

“So good,” you moan softly. “You feel so good inside me.” The hand on your clit resumes its pace, wanting Nanami to be fully immersed in focusing so he can get past this terrible roadblock in his mind.

“More,” he demands, kissing you deeply, the side of your jaw, nibbling your ear, begging you silently for more love and praise. “I-I have to know I’m doing well. That I’m making you feel good—"

“You are,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes white spots blot the edges of your vision. “You are—you are, Kento—shit fuck me harder. Give it to me.”

He bends to your will immediately, the pull of your voice—of your demands as easy as breathing, and he’ll give whatever it takes to make sure he can lay everything at your feet. “Fuck,” he groans, digging his fingers into the meat behind your knee, yanking it up onto the counter and you’re opening more, wider for him to slide in further.

It’s messy and animalistic, a building of sweat between your sliding bodies, a gradual intensifying thrum between your legs with each smack of his balls against you. Your body jerks with each thrust, pleasure scratching down your skin with sharp nails as your mind grows hazy, mouth falling open as the tip of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, over and over and over with each inward stroke. The hand on your clit flies up to grab the sweaty porcelain of the sink in front of you, fingernails digging into the rubbery sealant along the sides. The other hand reaches back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

You’ve gone almost a month without him in the most primal way and your body is struggling to keep up. Your lungs struggle to pull in enough air, your slick-coated fingers slip against the sink, your hips burn from the open angle of one leg up on the counter.

But you can’t bring it in yourself to care, too deep in bliss to worry about your wellbeing, the pressure at the base of your spine building and building, molten pleasure bubbling in your gut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” you gasp as you both climb together, meeting his thrusts as the tension coils tighter in your core. “You’re so strong. Love me so well. Fuck me so well.” Nanami groans harshly, shivering from your praise, reaching down to stroke your neglected clit, and you tense around him, choking at the pleasure that wraps around your throat, your cunt pulsing as it tries to swallow his cock and never let it leave.

You watch in the mirror as Nanami loses himself in the moment, all his doubts and insecurities forgotten. His face is a mask of pleasure and concentration, his body moving with a grace and power that takes your breath away. His hips falter, stuttering briefly to signal his match of mounting pleasure. He leans over you, his face in the crease of your neck, body bowing over to make you press further into the counter, teeth grazing your skin as he groans and pants against you with feral need.

He presses his fingers harder against your clit, rubs with a practiced motion and you’re tensing against the counter, scrambling for purchase on the sink as high-pitched keens shake from your throat. “Fuck right there, Kentooo,” you moan tightly. He moans harshly into the skin of your neck, relishing in the way your hot and wet walls tighten around him, doubling down, the fingers on your waist digging crescent moons into your skin. “Make me cum. Oh fuck, make me cum pleasepleaseplease—”

The hand in his hair tightens around silky strands, your body tenses up, your nose scrunching, pleasure pulsing and building in your cunt as you climb and climb and climb until you shatter.

A cry of his name, loud and primal, rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Ecstasy floods your system in overwhelming waves, each one threatening to pull you under. Tears gather in the corners of your tightly shut eyes, born from the sheer intensity of your release.

And like always, your pulsing walls are the final push Nanami needs. He thrusts into you harshly with deep punctuating strokes until his balls draw tight, fingers digging deeper, a deep, guttural groan shaking from his body as he finally climbs up that wall of shame and follows you over the edge, his release pulsing hot and deep inside you as your body continues to shudder with aftershocks.

Nanami doesn’t have the energy to pull out, collapsing onto you without grace. The cool counter against your cheek is a balm for your burning skin. As you both come down from your high, trembling and panting, you stroke his scalp with the hand still twisted in his sweaty hair, fading spots behind closed eyelids painting your vision.

After a few moments, Nanami stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before carefully withdrawing from your body. You whimper at the loss, but he soothes you with another soft kiss on your temple. You hear the sound of running water, the tub filling slowly as Nanami retrieves a warm, damp washcloth.

With tender care, he cleans you up, the soft cloth gliding over your sensitive skin. His touch is reverent, worshipful, as if he’s handling something precious beyond measure, and you melt further onto the counter. Once you’re clean, he guides your leg down from the counter, massaging the muscles of your hips and thighs to ease any lingering tension.

You let him lead you to the tub, sighing in bliss as you sink in the hot, soothing water. Nanami climbs in behind you, pulling you back against his chest as he settles you between his legs. The heat seeps into your aching muscles, the steam smelling faintly of lavender, the gentle lapping of the water against your skin a soothing lullaby.

For a long moment, you simply rest together, your head tipped back on his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as a thumb strokes the skin. The bathroom is quiet, save for the occasional drip of the faucet and your slow, even breathing.

Your mind drifts to the vulnerability you’ve witnessed in Nanami, the raw, unguarded moments he’s bared his deepest fears and insecurities. And only you will be the one to see that. You’ll be the only one to build him back up when he’s stripped down, to remind him of his worth, to love through every storm. Even storms that are as weak and barely damaging as limp dick.

“Thank you,” he finally speaks, rich voice vibrating against your skin, filling you with warmth from the inside out. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply as if to memorize the smell of your leave-in. “For being patient with me…for being supportive…” You feel the tension drain from his body as he exhales, slowly, as if he’s releasing the last of his worries into the steam-filled air. “I love you. Deeply.”

You smile softly to yourself at the declaration and turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with a mix of adoration and mischief.

“This wasn’t an easy assignment you know,” you tease, your voice lighthearted even as emotion threatens to overwhelm you. “I expect payment for my unwavering devotion.”

Nanami’s eyes, hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, roll playfully, a smile tugging the edges of his lips. “What’s my bill?”

"Moissanite,” you declare matter-of-factly, nestling back against his broad chest with a contented sigh. “The carats are up to you, but—“

“A gold band,” Nanami interjects, warm with affection and certainty. “Emerald cut. I have it memorized, my love.”

He punctuates his words with a tender kiss to your temple, his arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, a kaleidoscope of butterflies set free by his words.

“The box in the closet? Throw the penis pump and the Viagra in the trash,” you add, playfully jabbing your elbow into his side. “You won’t be needing those anymore.”

Nanami’s laughter rumbles through you, a deep, satisfying sound that fills the room and washes over your skin like a physical caress. “And if I want to be prepared, just in case?” he counters, his tone light and teasing.

“You’re 28, not 50,” you remind him, your own laughter mingling with his.

“Humor me.”

“I guess I could gather up all the magazines, powders, supplements, and various “aids” and present them to you in a nice box for you to use one day. Of course, you’d be single, so I’m not sure what good they’d do you then.”

Nanami’s body shakes with mirth, his breath puffing warm and sweet against your hair. “In the trash they go.”

You hum in agreement, an eyebrow raised before you tilt your chin. And like always, because you never have to ask, Nanami obliges, his lips slanting over yours in a slow, deep caress that steals your breath and fills your heart all at once.

Thanks for reading!

603 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 months

Text

a really great (love?) story, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: Hot summer. South of France. On vacation with your younger brother's friends. Uh. Well, might as well make the most of it, despite Kim Taehyung making his weird comments every now and then. That damn French waiter put ideas in his head.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Taehyung is obv trying to rizz up reader and reader is having none of it (but secretly likes it, keke); smut (fem reader, fingering, m-receiving oral); romantic and hella fluff; non-idol!AU; friends-to-lovers

I bought Tae's photobook and this is the result, what can I say, he's really pretty

“We’d make a really great love story.”

You grimaced and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

He frowned. His tan skin sparkled in the sun while you stayed curled up under the shade of a white beach umbrella, extra bundled in a wide straw hat and a flowy white linen cover up over a black and red sporty bikini. Even in this heat, you kept a bright yellow beach towel over your legs, not taking any chances with the blaring fireball in the sky.

Kim Taehyung asked you a question.

“Would you date me?”

You answered honestly.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“You're too good-looking and that'll only bring trouble.”

His crochet shirt was gone, leaving him in hip-hugging dark teal baggy shorts with white stripes down the sides. His dark brown hair was damp from the ocean, tangled over his forehead. When he smiled at your reply, he showed all his teeth in a boxy grin. Your indifferent expression didn’t change. You held onto your book. You continued to show your displeasure as he ran off, long legs and rippling back muscles, knowing full well you would soon be bothered again. Sigh. You turned the next page of your book, listening to the sounds of a rambunctious volleyball game, and wondered again why you had accepted your younger brother’s request.

Damn kid fractured his ankle right before his vacation. Non-refundable plane ticket to Europe. South of France, to be exact. Hot as fuck this time of year. He didn’t want to go because it would be a pain for his friends and he wouldn’t be able to have fun, he said. That and you knew he would rather your parents dote on him all day in prime air conditioning rather than sweat it out with fear-of-missing-out. You told him you had plenty of male friends that would be interested, but your brother insisted you needed to get that stick out of your ass and have a vacation.

So, here you were.

On vacation with your younger brother’s friends. On a beach, reading a book, and, oh, look, here comes Kim Taehyung with a bowl of frozen grapes, yelling your name.

Being annoyed.

The other guys were polite. They always asked if you wanted to join in any of the activities. Some days you stayed back at the rented beach property and puttered around, reading, resting, staring at the view. To be fair, you did try some of activities, such as spending all day on the golf course being really terrible at golf. When your head turned away, some of the boys would move your ball closer to the hole so you could maintain some dignity. Nice kids. You even accompanied them to a night beach club – and saw some things that you will never speak of, yikes – and danced with a couple European guys. At some places, you translated for them when you could. Thankfully, a lot of people in the touristy areas spoke some English. Studying English literature at university hadn’t been useless after all. Although, watching a bunch of Korean guys try to hand-gesture their way in conversations was pretty damn funny. In short, so far it was a surprisingly fun and nice vacation.

Until you went with Taehyung to a fancy café wanted to visit, you being his just-in-case English translator, and the waiter mistook you two as a couple.

That was awkward.

“Oh, no, sorry. Just friends.”

It was probably Taehyung feeding you his chocolate croissant. At first, you were going to refuse, but the pastries had been pretty expensive, and you had wanted to try a bite so he had held it out and let you chomp. Then things got weird once he lifted his hand with a laugh and wiped away from chocolate from the edge of your lip, licking it off his thumb.

You did get a free lemon macaron for being a cute couple once you immediately clarified that you weren’t.

The waiter had winked. Taehyung had just smiled because he didn’t understand.

Awesome.

Once you explained, the relentless teasing began. Well, maybe teasing was the wrong word. Taehyung would just say weird shit with a grin and those sparkly brown eyes of his. Because the other guys were not interested in cute pastries or pretty photo ops spots as seen on TikTok, Taehyung finally had a chance to see these places, using you as an excuse to drag you around at dawn or dusk when the main activities weren’t happening. You had probably taken about five hundred photos of Taehyung by now.

He was very photogenic, at least.

“I think you would look good in these,” he would say during one of the many shopping trips, holding up a pair of chocolate brown, slim sunglasses.

“I’m not as a dress-up doll,” you would grumble as you removed your current cat-eye-shaped dark lenses so he could delicately place the new ones on your nose and survey his handiwork. He would tilt your head this way and that and nod to himself solidly.

“I’m going to buy them, so you have to wear them.”

Thus, you now ticked your new sunglasses down and raised your eyebrow at him as he handed you the bowl of frozen grapes. You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but then he ran off to the guys playing volleyball and act like he hadn’t done anything strange. Hah. You would catch him looking back at you while you were sucking on said grapes and roll your eyes. Was that a smirk or a residual smile from the game?

“A hot summer romance sounds fun, right?”

“Go off, then,” you replied dryly, turning the page of your book.

It was nighttime now. The guys were getting ready to go bar-hopping. You heard some hushed whispers of coming back to jump into the sea at night while drunk. Idiots. You would possibly have to play lifeguard if they followed through on being idiots. Sigh. You elected to stay behind this time, to keep the lights on and all that. You had a few packs of ramyeon in your suitcase for such drunken nights. Nothing like spicy Buldak to finish off a spicy night.

Taehyung poked your shoulder. You knew it was him because of his low whisper and his inability to stop giggling at saying ridiculous shit. You waved a hand.

“Come with us.”

“I don’t need to see you boys twerking on table again. No thanks.”

You heard him suck on his teeth, disappointed. “Join in then.”

“That is a little too weird to be doing around my lil bro’s friends, even for me.”

You glanced at him. Despite his dark, strong features, Taehyung still held that boyish charm. Or maybe it was because you couldn’t see past him being your younger brother’s friend, so he always seemed like a kid to you. He was very popular among the locals. Every time you all stepped out, people would be flocking to speak to him even though Taehyung didn’t know any French (or English, for that matter). Didn’t seem to bother anyone though.

It must be his unquestionably handsome, expressive face.

Hm.

You looked up from your book about science, sex, and murder, to encounter Kim Taehyung’s pouty expression. He was wearing a linen white and sky-blue two-piece set. Short sleeve button up and shorts, complete with floppy brown sandals. He perked up at your acknowledgement. In contrast to his summer heartthrob vibe, you wore a low-waisted long black maxi skirt, a tight black tank, and a draping dark brown lace cardigan. The cardigan color matched his eyes and the slim sunglasses perched on your head that you soon wouldn’t need anymore. The sun was slipping down to bed.

One of the guys called out to you. “Noona, do you want anything while we’re out?”

“We can pick up a man for ya!” Another chimed in loudly with a snort.

Taehyung’s expression darkened.

“Just make sure to do a head count,” you shot back. “Everyone better stay safe or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Ooookay!”

You caught Taehyung’s look. Didn’t say anything about it. He sighed and headed off to the kitchen with purpose as the other men began to pile out of the room. You figured he was pre-gaming or getting some water. You went back to the pages, only to start as you saw a glass and a chilled bottle of white wine slide in front of you.

Dark eyes looked down at you.

You gazed at him over the top of your book.

Reached up and untangled the sunglasses Kim Taehyung had gifted you. You placed them on the counter, next to the wine glass. He turned and left. The guys crowded by the door, gathering their things and laughing. One of them came back and handed you their gold watch – “I don’t want to break it by accident” “You mean, you don’t want to accidentally give it away because you get too happy when drunk?” – giggling with a silly grin and thanking you quickly before running out the door.

Before the door closed, you noticed Taehyung shooting you an enigmatic expression.

You ticked your head and looked back without much expression.

The wine was pretty good, but you didn’t have more than two glasses.

You remembered to put the watch on the appropriate nightstand before heading out to the back porch and reading as the sun went down. It was nice to read by the sunset waves in relative calm. You must have fallen asleep somehow, breathing in the sea and sounds of summer, only to be woken up by a gentle hand on your shoulder, calling your name from far away.

Hazy and deep.

“Hm?”

You shook your head and sat up, seeing Kim Taehyung looking back at you.

“Oh? What are you doing back so soon?” you yawned behind your hand, tucking your bookmark between the pages. “Or is it later than I thought?”

He shook his head of dark waves. He smelled a little like alcohol, but not too bad. “They’re still out. I told them my tummy didn’t feel too good.”

“Ah.” You chuckled. “Too much cheese this afternoon?”

There was a lantern on the back porch, along with a few lounge chairs and low lights that snapped away any pesky bugs. An orange glow dipped over you both. Taehyung had this look in his eyes that you had seen before, although not from him specifically. You were pretty sure every guy on this vacation had considered the same thing, although you had given them none of them a reason to fuck around and find out.

He gave you his puppy-like smile.

You gave him your usual cat-like expression that didn’t mean anything at all.

“You should go lie down,” you recommended.

“You’re my total opposite, I think,” Taehyung responded, which had nothing to do with anything. You didn’t respond to that, but you didn’t tell him he was wrong either. “I wonder what you’re like with your friends.”

You thought about the last time you were in a karaoke session with your few female friends. It had ended with one friend ragdolled on a stretcher and another girl dead asleep in your bathroom until noon of the next day. Stretcher girl was fine after some fluids and a nice, cute, hot male nurse making sure she was okay.

You had hooked up with him as a thanks. For yourself. And him, sorta.

“Girls are different than boys,” and you left it at that.

He raised his hand, spreading his fingers out.

You stared at it.

Taehyung reached over with his other hand and took yours, lifting it up and placing your palm to his.

You blinked slowly.

He was warm, as was the night air. Your hand was smaller, of course, but he wouldn’t be able to engulf it that easily. His palm was rough and worn from summer. From sun, from spiking a volleyball, from swimming in the salty sea. Yours was still soft from turning pages and sipping wine.

“I always thought you would want a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys pink, parties, and flowers,” you commented, not yet removing your hand.

You did not go around perusing thoughts of your younger brother’s friends’ love lives, because that would be fucking weird. But it was a thought. Especially when you witnessed them get into or fall out of relationships. High school had been… yup. You had covered for lil bro and the boys a few too many times; you were a much better liar. With your parents usually gone for work, you were usually the one in charge, which meant you often played babysitter to way too many idiots. For some reason, over the years, they liked to ask for your opinion of their prospective girlfriends. You suspected it was because this course of action was safer than immediately introducing them to their mothers who were much scarier when it came to their sons. After all the question was always, what would my mom think of this person? You had tried to distance yourself as they all became older, but, alas.

Somehow you always got dragged back in to looking after them.

“There has to be a flower you like,” Taehyung insisted. “There are so many flowers in the world.”

You thought about it for a moment. “I like snowdrops.”

His face brightened. “Ah, yeah, that suits you. I see it.”

Your hands were still touching, palm-to-palm.

You tilted your head.

Taehyung didn’t move his hand away.

“I always thought you were a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys black, quiet time, and snowdrops,” he said slowly, dreamily, his words turned into honey by his smooth, low voice.

You pointed out the obvious. “I only just told you I like snowdrops.” You scoffed lightheartedly. “And I enjoy quiet time because you all are so damn noisy.”

The sparkle in Taehyung’s eyes dulled a bit.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

You recalled him saying he told the others his stomach hurt. He must have picked up a thing or two from you over the years.

“About candlelit dinners? About going on night walks, buying convenience store snacks, and eating it at the kids’ playground when no one is around?” Taehyung asked one question after another. “About standing in the rain? Sharing an umbrella? Holding hands? About that leather jacket I have, borrowing it when you’re a bit cold, standing beside each other, waiting for the midnight train?”

He interlocked his fingers with yours.

You didn’t react much, other than saying, “You do look like the male lead in a romance drama, Kim Taehyung.”

The obvious was being avoided.

After a long moment, Taehyung let go of your hand, stood up, and went to his room.

You tried to put it out of your mind.

The night was warm enough that you napped a little more. Woke up a few hours later to make ramyeon and hydrate the group, earning many drunken handshakes of enthusiastic thanks. You stayed up a bit with them, learning of the night’s exploits despite the incoherent mess of their speech, and then sent them off to bed, one by one. Cleaned up, stared at the moon for a long time, and then headed to your room. Unlike the others, you weren’t sharing a room. It was small and cozy, as expected. You placed your book by your nightstand and sat in the dark.

You weren’t quite sleepy yet, but you got ready for bed anyway.

A few years ago, you and Taehyung had a… moment.

A very fleeting moment.

It had happened at bar. You had been turning the corner in the hallway to the bathrooms, and a hand grabbed your arm, yanking hard. Your body twisted, instantly on alert, but one look at the other person, and the shock had stopped you from pulling away, thereby allowing a drunken Kim Taehyung kiss you.

The contact had been in less than a second.

He had smelled like warm leather and musky embers.

Taehyung had immediately pulled away, sputtering your name, surprised that you both found yourselves at the same bar, the inopportune fate causing this fateful accident.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else – how… when…?”

You had shaken your head quickly, turning, your passing whisper by his ear.

“Forget about it.”

You entered the bathroom as a girl rounded the corner and fell into Taehyung’s arms.

At that time, you had chalked it up to weird timing. A random encounter. You had been hooking up with a different guy in Daegu. Taehyung was from there, so it wasn’t totally improbable that you could cross paths. Bold move by him. Wasn’t unheard of, though. Guys could be like that. Girls liked that stuff. When you left the bathroom, the couple was gone, which was a relief. You had gone about your night and it ended as expected. That guy had a great ass. It had ended on good terms, but ended all the same.

You wondered what made him bring it up again.

After all, he was the type of man he was, always surrounded by people vying for his attention.

He knew the type of woman you were.

Well, you had started getting a reputation among Daegu men.

After a moment of reminiscing, you stood up to pull back the curtain at your window. Your room was on the lower floor, next to the back porch, and, like a dream, there he was, Kim Taehyung against the rail, leaning over it to look towards the ocean.

You blinked slowly.

He wasn’t exactly looking inside the house, but he must have noticed your movement, because his head turned, and now you were entangled in eye contact broken by a thin pane of glass.

The shadows danced across his face. The lantern light was off but the lower lights along the ground path were still on. For safety, likely. He was only wearing a pair of white, tie-front linen pants. You wondered if Taehyung had been waiting for you or if he was simply admiring the summer night. Hard to tell. A soft breeze ruffled through his dark hair. You stood in your room, one hand on the floral curtain, the other on the button placket of your black silk pajamas. Short sleeved and shorts, breezy and slinky, perfect for the summer weather.

Moonlight shimmered off his bare chest.

After a moment, Taehyung backed away from the rail. You watched him step down the porch and walk over to stand under your window.

He tapped the glass.

You opened it.

Those dark eyes stared at you, blocking the light with his frame.

The window opened inward, a vintage latch at the center to split the two panes. You leaned out a bit, bending slightly, and now you and him were at eye level, surrounded by the salted scent of the sea instead of the dark hallway of a bar next to the bathrooms.

“You stomach didn’t actually hurt, did it?” you asked.

Taehyung smiled, but didn’t reply.

Instead, he too leaned forward a bit, inhaling softly. You had a tendency to spray your perfume in your hair. It lasted longer that way. He could probably smell it off your hair right now.

“I thought I would be fine,” he said, looking into your eyes.

You didn’t say anything.

“I thought I could forget about it,” he breathed in that deep honey voice of his.

Your eyes shifted past his, then back.

You placed your elbows on the windowsill and leaned out. You inside. Him outside. Taehyung seemed like he was searching for something in your expression. You didn’t give him anything. You wondered what he would do. The alcohol must have worn off by now. You weren’t feeling the glasses of excellent white wine anymore, at least. You remembered how the French women at the night beach club had held his arms and leaned against him, complimenting his smile and cooing over his perfect skin and beautiful dark hair. He hadn’t stopped them.

But, also, Taehyung was closing the distance right now, his warm cologne entering your private space.

“Why couldn’t you forget?” you asked, his lips centimeters from yours, viewing him through lashes.

His head was already tilted. His eyes flickered up, having lowered by instinct.

“Couldn’t help but think that you would make a wonderful female lead in a romance novel.”

You smiled, noting the detail between your words and his.

His lips pressed against yours.

You held it for a moment. Soft, deep, breathing in the scent of each other. You drew apart, hearing him suck in a breath hastily. Half-smiled, amused by his nervousness. He raised his head. You shared a questioning look. The night ocean sang, soft waves lapping at the shore.

You tilted your head towards the inside of your room.

Taehyung hesitated for a second, but only for a second.

Less than a minute later, he slipped into your room. Opened and closed the door as quietly as the old wood would allow. You paused, wondering if he had a whole script memorized, being the romantic and all, but Taehyung lifted his eyes and it seemed like he forgot everything. It seemed you had to be the one to make a move. You still stood by the open window, in your black silk pajamas. Night bathed in moonlight.

Well, you did have a reputation among Daegu men. One more couldn’t hurt.

You lifted your hand, palm towards Taehyung.

He closed the distance, almost soundless, and lifted his hand too. Palm to palm. You looked down at your touching hands, then back up at him. He was quite tall, but he wasn’t imposing his presence over you.

“You think we would make a really great love story?”

The moon caught a hint of his blush.

“You don’t think so?” he replied, unsure in the wake of you teasing back for once.

You were honest with him.

“I really don’t know.”

You angled your hand slightly so your fingers and his no longer overlapped.

“You have to be sure that you’re okay with that.”

You let your eyes linger on his chest on purpose before raising your head to make eye contact. The memory of his lips lingered. It was just like how you remembered it, even from that rushed, barely a second, frozen-in-time moment.

His kiss, however brief, had a lasting, forever type of feeling.

“You asked me if I had ever thought about it.”

His eyes widened a little bit as you mentioned the previous conversation. Like a movie, the instances played back in your head. The accidental kiss. The awkward silences when you both found yourselves alone in the smallest of moments before brushing past each other. You noticed Taehyung dating on and off, yet not committing to anyone. The times when he would notice you with other guys and quickly look away, as if he witnessed something dirty or wrong. His behavior wasn’t intrusive. He didn’t push you towards anyone, but he didn’t pull you away either.

“Not really,” you admitted. “Mostly because I didn’t think you would want the challenge.”

Taehyung stared into your eyes, slipping his fingers in between yours, holding your hand tightly.

“I think I needed to grow up a little.”

You raised your eyebrows. Looked him up and down. “Seems like you grew a lot.”

He laughed, then toned it down despite the house currently snores abode. You knew what he meant and he knew the double meaning you implied. You lifted your other hand. His chuckling died down, watching. He tensed as the pads of your fingers made contact with his forearm, walking up his muscle.

“You had a plan, hm?”

Your whisper melted into the moonlight.

“I was…” His breath stilled when you stopped. You glanced up, your fingertips poised at the bend of his elbow. “I was… going to ask you what kind of lover you are.”

You ticked your head, not yet moving your hand. “What about you?”

Taehyung’s dark eyes were barely visible under his hair fallen over his forehead.

“Yours.”

You paused.

His shoulder lifted in the lightest of shrugs.

“I heard you’re really good. Sometimes rough.”

Word got around then.

“I’m really good. Sometimes soft. So, we will balance out,” he said with a smile.

You removed your hand from his skin.

Your whisper so low it was nearly a growl.

“Is that what you think?”

The fingers of your raised hand spread. Curved. Danced over his neck. Taehyung started slightly at the contact of your middle finger sliding over his throat, your eyes locked with his, and you traced up, into the pocket of his jaw, closing your fingers around the back of his head and pulling his face down to yours.

And you kissed him.

Slow. Soft and intense at the same time, drawing in your breath. For a moment, Taehyung was suspended in surprise before leaning in, gasping against your lips, tangled in your tongue before he knew it. His own hand came up to cup your cheek, more to stabilize himself than for the passion, but then it all meshed together, kiss after kiss. One hand tangled in his hair and the other resting in the dip of his warm chest. He had one hand on your face and the other skimming along your elbow.

Surrounded by salt air and shadows.

You broke the kiss, pulling back with a sigh.

You half-expected him to retreat. Taehyung was one to flirt and not back it up. You were one to not flirt; instead, the first to move. He must have known that. For once, you played the role of the gentlemen this time, waiting for his choice. Toying with a half-smile on your lips, the erratic rise and fall of his built chest under your fingertips. Racing heart. Lingering taste. His dark eyes surveyed you under the messiness of his beach-loved hair.

In silence, you stared into his eyes, daring him to sin.

There must have been something in the French night air.

Taehyung tilted his head, feathering air-light kisses over your jaw. Your neck. You tilted your head back, to the side, letting out a sensual exhale at the tingling of your pulse. Your fingers touched the button placket of your pajamas, leisurely unbuttoning one by one. You felt his fingers ghost over one shoulder, pushing it down, exposing skin to air.

He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest.

You leaned your head back against his collarbone, silk draping down your arms.

Felt him whisper your name into your ear, low and tainted with lust.

His hands covered your chest, fingers spread, large palms hovering, statuesque in pose. Demure for half a second. Moonlight streaming over your torso. You arched your back, and Taehyung sucked in a breath, feeling your naked breasts fill his hands. His lips brushed against your neck, shuddering, and you rubbed your hard nipples into his rough palms, grazing your ass over his crotch.

“Fuck…”

You turned your head, viewing him from your periphery, melting into his touch without a word.

Your hands migrated to his sides, sliding down, adorning his hips with your curved fingers.

Taehyung moaned softly, his eyes closing. Hands all over your chest, igniting desire. Hungry but deliberate, no sense in rushing, moving to the sound of the sea. His erection pressed into the dip of your ass, linen and silk separating the skin to skin but not enough to hide the hardness to softness. Exhale. His arms crossed over your chest, soft lips on the base of your neck, and you felt him ghost his fingers down, down, past your bellybutton, dancing over the waistband of your shorts.

With one swift movement, you turned your wrist and covered the back of his hand with yours, dragging him in between the layers.

He gasped as he felt your slick wetness coat his fingertips.

Your other hand slid into his pants, grabbing his ass, pinning Taehyung to you while you pressed his fingers into the outer lips, rocking your hips into it, grinding on his growing arousal, grinning when you heard him swear under his breath again.

He shoved a finger into you.

You both moaned at the same time, the sound drowned by the crashing tide outside.

You pressed another in, and he got the hint. Middle and ring finger, his palm pressed to your throbbing clit, and you rode his hand before he moved, blossoming the pleasure all on your own. His moan rumbled in his chest, biting his lip to avoid any obvious noise. The wet sucking sound was conspicuous enough, and you tightened your core, your pussy clenching around his fingers, prompting Taehyung to lean his chin onto your shoulder, his dark hair brushing against your cheekbone, one hand teasing your nipples, the other between your legs, delicious sparks flying through your body knowing he was actively watching.

“The sounds you make… are insane…”

You weren’t aware until he said it. Soft, breathless gasps drifted out of your own lips, inaudible to anyone except for the inescapable closeness of Taehyung pinning you to his tense body. You could feel the shake creep down to your legs, your silk shorts slipping down your thighs, the fullness of each thrust making your lightheaded. And then, you felt Taehyung slightly curve his fingers.

You sucked in a breath, your eyes shutting, seeing stars, pleasure and want increasing tenfold.

“A-Ah, yes… Taehyung…”

His name polluted by sensuality. Foreign but not unwelcome. A sudden arousing surge of lovely wrongness – after all, you should not be fucking one of your younger brother’s closest friends – but you could tell it had an effect on him too. He squeezed your nipple, making you hiss, and then you felt his tongue flat against the side of your neck, sliding up, his breath hot, his impossibly deep voice husky, his command pleading.

“Cum for me.”

You raised yourself to tiptoes, the curve of your ass against his twitching bulge, and sank your nails into his hip as you came, spilling onto his palm in vibrating shivers, delicately moaning to the ceiling. The intense high rushed up your center, through your limbs, all over your nerves, and you let it take over, shuddering, growing limp in Taehyung’s flexed arms.

As expected, he did not drop you.

You stayed in the heady fog of orgasm, slowly waking as if in a lucid dream. Turned your head and found his lips, or perhaps his lips found yours. It was hard to tell. You drew his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it, sensing a growing desperation in the shallowness of his breath.

You pried your fingernails from his hip, rueful. “I got carried away. My bad.”

A hint of a mischievous smirk on Taehyung’s lips. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

You questioned him with half-moon eyes.

“Someone might see.”

The smirk morphed into more of a roguish smile. There he was. “I can say I got scratched up while roughhousing. They’re not gonna think twice about it,” he teased.

“Tch. Tricky, tricky, aren’t you, Kim Taehyung?”

You twisted like a dancer, breaking from his embrace. He let you go, somewhat reluctantly. His right hand was still glistening, covered in your orgasm. He glanced at it, mesmerized, before realizing you were kicking away your shorts and panties, tossing your unbuttoned top onto the bed. His eyes widened when your hand came into contact with his chest. You slid down. In one swift movement, you lowered to a squat, right in front of the massive tent in his pants.

Taehyung had but a second to intake a breath.

You grazed your palm down his stomach, his bellybutton, to the tie of his pants. Tugged on it, unlacing it, and then you hooked your thumbs onto the sides of the waistband and pushed them down.

Part of you was mildly shocked Taehyung was going commando.

The other part of you thought that was pretty on brand for him.

You weren’t too surprised by what you saw. He was well-kept, clean, and not fully hard yet. The latter was mostly a guess from experience. It wasn’t polite to stereotype Daegu men, but, well. If the shoe fit and all that. You raised your eyes, amused at his stunned expression, and then leaned forward to lick along the thickening length.

“Oh, shit…”

He must have expected you to simply put his cock in your mouth or wrap your hand around it. Instead, you pressed your lips to the hot, velvety skin, decorating him with kisses before flickering out your tongue and wrapping it over the head, rubbing your lips against the underside. Back and forth, curling your tongue around the swelling tip, licking off the leaking pre-cum.

He tasted strong. More enjoyable than most.

You looked up as you worked his shaft. Taehyung gasped and his cock twitched as if to affirm his attraction.

“F-Fuck, what…?”

“You should taste my cum while I suck you off,” you murmured against his balls, licking them all over as you spoke.

He wasn’t used to the multiple sensations. You could tell by his heavy pants and the tension rippling all over his torso. How unfortunate, but you would make up for that right now.

“O-Okay… fuck…”

You watched Taehyung slide his fingers into his open lips and his eyes rolled back, groaning deeply as your essence hit his tongue. In one fluid flick of your head, you swallowed his cock, relaxing as your lips pressed to the base, feeling his girth stretch out your throat. You lowered your tongue, bringing him deeper, and perhaps it was a good idea to have Taehyung lick his fingers off. His shocked whine was stifled by his own hand. You paid it no mind, slowly pulling back and diving forward, his scent filling your nose every time you inhaled, catching glimpses of him sliding his fingers in out of his mouth with each ascent.

Somehow Taehyung made the depraved act look almost dreamy.

Your fingertips balanced on the floorboards, lowering your knees to better support yourself. Not using your hands out of pride. You even leaned your head back, both to gain more air and to take him deeper with less resistance. You saw Taehyung pull his fingers out of his mouth, strings of saliva beading on his lower lip, balancing his fingers by his shivering exhales as he watched you, entranced.

You let the pleasure reflect in your eyes.

“How… wow… fuck, your tits and thighs look so good at this angle…”

The strain was prickling through your limbs. You were far too engrossed in your task to care, feeling your pussy dampen from the intoxicating adrenaline, closing your eyes to focus on the pace. Steady, intense, listening to the deepening sound of his groan, his cock throbbing in your throat, signaling he was close, and then his voice ceased, suspended, lost in the warm, encompassing reverie.

His hips tensed, snapping forward, and Taehyung gasped your name.

His hot orgasm gushed onto the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the viscous, heady flavor, making you as lightheaded as he sounded. Through his jerking length you could feel the flinches ravage his body, and all of a sudden his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you down to the brink of danger.

You swallowed, trying to grasp for a sliver of oxygen.

Taehyung almost doubled over, his erotic cry muffled by his other hand slapping over his mouth, and he half-pulled out of your closed lips, only to slide back in again, slowly, groaning above your head. He was trying to keep quiet and contain his sound within the walls of this room. Everyone else in the house was probably too drunk to string a sentence together, let alone figure out sex was happening under the same roof, but it was best not to take any chances.

His expansive girth was trembling, softening as his sensitivity increased. None of that stopped him from continuing to thrust in post-orgasmic bliss, lengthening his pleasure. You swirled your tongue around him and Taehyung trembled, whispering sweet nothings like smoke, his words melding with the melodic sound of ocean waves.

After a few more thrusts, his grip lessened, backing off.

You drew back, licking your lips, throwing your head back, breathing in a long, greedy gulp of fresh salty air. There was something ethereal about the whole scene. If it wasn’t for the ache in your knees, you might have been deceived into thinking it never happened. His memorable taste was still on your tongue. You swallowed again, and then felt a hand on your elbow.

Wordlessly, you opened your eyes and let Taehyung lift you to your feet.

He stared at you, his hair over his eyes, breathing hard. His chest glistened in the moonlight. The rest of him was shadowed by your naked body.

“I…”

You waited.

“I… I should have asked if you…” He trailed off, grasping your arm tightly.

You half-smiled. “You thought I wouldn’t want to?”

There seemed to be a pink flush on his cheeks. His ears were certainly turning red. “I first wanted to ask you… No, Invite you on a proper date. Not on this vacation but… sometime soon?”

You couldn’t help but tease him. “Why so nervous when we’re naked in front of each other?”

Taehyung spared a glance down and then blushed deeper, clearing his throat. “I don’t know. I’m not usually nervous.” His dark eyes drifted back to your face. “I always thought you were beautiful. But too good for me.”

That almost made you laugh. “Too good? You know my reputation, Taehyung, and ‘good’ does not describe it.”

He shook his head.

Tugged on your arm, pulling you towards him.

“Yin and yang.”

He brought his forehead down, touching yours.

“You need both to have a really great love story.”

You breathed in his rich, warm scent, and leaned in to kiss him again. The sea, the salt air, the heat between you and him, burning, and the next day you were sitting under the beach umbrella again, laying on a teak lounger, book in hand, chocolate brown sunglasses perched on the end of your nose, secretly observing sun-kissed Kim Taehyung diving into the foamy waves as he snuck glances back at you, admiring your watchful form.

You smiled in shade as Taehyung dazzled in the sun.

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #bts smut #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you

413 notes · View notes

ladyylesbian · 3 months

Text

Sorority Rules (18+)

Pairing: dom!wandanat x sub!fem!original character

Summary: ‘New Year, New Me’ can start in September...right?

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Pet names, mommy kink, daddy kink, reader has a name? (Honestly idk anymore, tell me if I missed something?)

Word Count: 11.2k

A/N: This really was just me proving something to myself, but I hope you enjoy it all the same :) Continuation of this story is on AO3

you do not have permission to translate/repost my works anywhere! all mistakes are mine and mine alone. likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated <3

Freshman year left you beat down on the floor. You had been roomed with a girl named Hela. The two of you had hit it off instantly. In fact, you spent so much time together that everyone would know if they found one of you, then they could find the other nearby, definitely helped that you somehow had the exact same class schedule. By the end of the first semester, Hela asked you out and one week later, she asked you to be her girlfriend.

What was the happiest month turned dark and lonely. Hela spent more and more of her time focused on her sorority since being officially accepted. She had set completely insane restraints on you. You had to text her every hour whenever you were apart, it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t acknowledge your messages. She even would rarely show up at the dorm room to sleep, claiming that the sorority house was where she needed to be, but demanded a picture of you in bed every night.

You had long since given up expecting to see her anywhere but during classes, however, when she sat down with the other girls in her sorority looking you right in the eyes as she did, you finally broke. That was your time together and she was so obviously picking them.

That only snowballed into her eating lunch in the quad with them too. She took you to a few sorority parties and introduced you to her ‘favorite person’ and sorority big sister, Carol. The two were attached at the hip which quickly left you to nurse a drink off in the corner.

You didn’t have the backbone to say anything, blindly hoping she would realize how much she missed you and run back.

It wasn’t until right before the end of year finals that Hela had stayed back in the dorm room once again. The two of you would study nonstop and laugh and joke. Everything you had spent months wishing for was happening. The girl you liked was back.

After finishing your last final before Summer break, you waited for her in the hallway. Less than 15 minutes later she pushed open the classroom door and stepped out. You locked eyes and she rushed up and gave you a hug. “Thank you so much, Madelyn. I really could not have passed these finals without you.”

Smiling warmly at the raven haired girl, “Always. It’s you and me all the time. I couldn’t show up to sophomore year without you next to me.”

Her eyes fell downwards before slowly reaching yours again. “About that, Madelyn, I think we should end things. You are just in such a different place than me and I am changing my major, so we won’t be in the same classes anyways. Not to mention, you can really blow up my phone and I am just not into that. But thank you so much for the help this year.” You can’t help but stare at her wide eyed, blinking repeatedly as you try to process her words. She pats your cheek before turning around and walking down the hall “Have a good summer!”

The only thought running thought your mind is ‘what the fuck.”

You cannot believe this day is finally here, sophomore year of college. After a thoroughly disastrous freshman year, you are determined to completely turn your life around. A new roommate, new classes, if you can be picky, then hopefully a solid friend group will be thrown in there too.

It was still a few days before the actual first day of classes, but you wanted to get into your new dorm and settle in. There were quite a lot of other students with the same idea, all unpacking their parents cars that were stuffed full. You quickly paid the taxi driver and hopped out the back seat. He opened the trunk and lifted your suitcase onto the road.

Dragging your bag up the sidewalk and settling in the line waiting for the booth to find your new dorm room and collect the room key. You look around, wondering if your new roommate is in this same crowd, thinking if her parents are holding back tears as they hug her goodbye.

Thankfully, before you can stumble too far down that path, you reach the front of the line. “Name and year?”

“Oh, uh, Madelyn Andrews. Sophomore.” She flips through the pages and finds your name with ease. Looking down into her organized box of keys, she picks up on set, “Room 616.”

With a soft smile, you accept the key and head towards the sophomore dorms.

Thankfully, there’s an elevator in all the dorm buildings once you’re no longer a freshman. You always joked that it was the university’s way of hazing the entire freshman class.

The slow elevator had you wondering if you could have walked the stairs and ended up there faster, but eventually, opened onto the sixth floor. You held your breath as you walked up to your door.

Pressing your ear against the wooden surface and straining to try and hear any movement. It sounded completely empty inside. With a quick ‘thank you’ to the skies above, you push the key into the lock and turn, opening the door.

Unsurprisingly, it is the same layout as your freshman year dorm, not that you were superstitious, but in the spirit of completely turning your life around you opted for the bed on the right this time.

It didn’t take more than an hour for you to put away your clothes and set up the small mementos of your friends from back home. Walking back over to your suitcase, you pull out a small blanket that barely is long enough to cover your legs and hide it under your pillow.

Laying on your new bed and scrolling your university’s Instagram page, trying to find something to do that can pass the time. That’s when you see there is an early bird trivia event being hosted at the student center in ten minutes.

Taking a second to think, you come to the conclusion that this is the perfect chance to meet new people. Reinvent yourself as someone social, someone beyond only one friend turned girlfriend.

Softly pushing yourself off the elevated bed, you walk over to the shared closet and pull out your favorite white crew neck in case the temperature drops after sunset. With an unbalanced turn, you spin around and pull on your black and gray checkered vans. Hopping over to the mirror to give yourself a fast once over then heading straight out the door.

It’s only a short walk to the student center from your dorm this year, which you’re thankful for, perfect for meeting new people.

Remembering how heavy the student center door is, you pull hard on the handle. The universe must be laughing at you because that seemed to be the wrong choice. The usually heavy door was light this year and you have just thrown the door as wide as it would go, causing a decently loud sound.

A few students near the door look at you, but thankfully the other students further into the building haven’t seemed to notice a thing. Which is where the trivia is being held, so you awkwardly walk through the doors and inside.

“Hello, welcome to early bird trivia: musicals. Are you joining a team or registering a new one?” states a wide eyed brunette woman.

“Oh, I didn’t know we had to have a team..” you begin to look around for anyone you might vaguely recognize. “Not a worry, dear. We have another girl looking for a team too. You two can partner up.” She starts to wave over a blonde, who’s smiling bigger than you would think possible.

She continues, “This is..” she pauses waiting for you. “Madelyn.”

“And she needs a team as well. So, what will the team name be?”

Before you even have a moment to think of something clever, the blonde speaks up, “Mac n Cheese Lovers.” You cannot help but snort at her abruptness. The brunette hands you a paper and pencil to write down your answers on, “Good luck ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers.”

Following the blonde over to a table near the smoothie bar along the left wall, as she sits down she introduces herself, “Hey. My name is Yelena. I hope you like Mac n Cheese or this team name will be super awkward,” she snickers.

You shake your head slightly, “The name is perfectly fitting. I’m a huge fan,” you laugh, “My name is Madelyn. It’s nice to meet you. So what year are you in?”

“Sophomore,” the blonde replies, “How about you?”

“Same, sophomore.” The two of you continue with small talk for a couple minutes until you hear the game host start speaking. He gives a quick introduction of his name and lets everyone know he’s the student activity director, so he plans all university approved events. Which leads him to a quick warning that means no drinking or drugs at these events since he’s required to report them to the Dean. Then, he gets into the trivia rules.

Once he finishes, Yelena leans over to you, “We have to win. Or at least beat my annoying sister and her girlfriend.”

You raise your eyebrow at the woman, “If you knew people, how come you didn’t team up with them?”

She waves off your question before pointing them out, “See those two redheads? That’s them. They are insufferable at any sort of competition. We need to show them up and win, so I hope you’re a musical lover because I am most certainly not a musical theater major,” she chuckles as she finishes her sentence.

“They do look insufferable,” you agree with the blonde, “and lucky for you, while I am not a musical theater major, I am a lover of Broadway, so get ready to kick some ass.”

Yelena claps you on the back and laughs, “I like you, Madelyn. Let's do this.”

“Okay, everyone, first question. What musical movie has the song ‘It's the Hard-Knock Life’?”

You quickly write down ‘Annie’ on the paper next to the number one as he repeats the first question.

“Second question, the musical Hairspray is set in what American city?”

Once again, you write down ‘Baltimore’ immediately next to the number two as he repeats the question.

And the process repeats itself all the way to the end. You, unsurprisingly, knew every answer, besides two. Thankfully Yelena seemed very confident in the answers, which led you to learning that while she was not an overall musical lover, she was obsessed with ‘SIX’, claiming ‘they all should have just murdered that idiotic king’.

By the end, you and Yelena are laughing together and being shushed by other teams around you trying to think. Yelena pays them no mind while she tries to watch and see if her sister and her girlfriend are guessing the answers correctly by the way she’s writing. You tried to tell her that would be impossible to know, but the blonde paid you as little mind as she did the surrounding teams.

Finally, the host announces for everyone to settle down and starts going over the list of correct answers. Yelena is practically levitating off the seat with how excited she is. Your team got every question right. “Okay everyone, count up your total of correct answers.” He waits a few seconds before beginning again, “raise your hand if your team got more than five correct.”

Faster than lightning, Yelena's hand is in the air, yours follows quickly. “Raise your hand if your team got more than ten correct.” Three other teams' hands go down. “Raise your hand if your team got more than fifteen correct.” Another two teams’ hands lower. Leaving your team, two other teams, and Yelena’s sister’s team, much to the blonde’s annoyance.

“Raise your hand if you got more than seventeen correct.” One team puts their hands down. “Raise your hand if you got more than eighteen correct.” The other team drops their hands. Making the final two teams, ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers’ and ‘Traitors’, if you were to believe Yelena.

“Looks like we have a tight race everyone, how exciting, keep your hands up if you got all twenty questions correct.” A moment of tense silence falls over the room, the redheads slowly lower their hands. A loud, piercing scream sounds off beside you, “Yes! Ha! I won! So much for ‘Yelena you don't know anything about musicals. Go find your own team’.” The blonde begins doing her victory dance as you laugh. She grabs your hand and motions for you to victory dance with her. And how could you say no when you are equally excited about the win.

“We have our winners, everyone congratulations to..” the host drags off his sentence.

“Mac n Cheese Lovers!” the two of you say while laughing and dancing together.

“Congratulations to ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers’. Thank you to everyone for coming out and starting off this year with a bang! I will see you at the next activity!” Slowly everyone staggers out of the student center and into the night as you’re exchanging Instagrams with Yelena and saying your goodbyes.

Not even three steps away from the table, you hear someone speaking to Yelena, “Clearly, you didn’t win with your own lack of knowledge. So, what’s her name?” Not wanting to look back and have them know you’re listening, you keep walking as you hear Yelena reply “Madelyn. Why?”

Cursing yourself for not slowing down because now you’re too far away to keep trying to listen, you look over your shoulder right before walking out the doors. Locking eyes with two pairs of green eyes staring back at you.

Spending most of your days walking around campus and figuring out the quickest way to each of your classes, then finding a second route.., and a third route, just in case. Eventually making your way to the cafeteria since it’s the only food place open on campus until classes begin and sitting out in the quad people watching as more and more people arrive. You haven’t met up with the blonde, or the two mysterious redheads, you met at trivia since. However, you are often sending memes back and forth which you take as a small step towards your first new friend of the year.

It’s officially one day until classes start and you still haven’t met your roommate. You have considered walking back to the welcome booth and asking if you even have a roommate since it’s extremely uncommon to not be moved into the dorms by this time.

As much as most people would love to strike luck and get a free single, that is the absolute last thing you want.

The universe finally seems to answer your silent worrying and wishing as you hear someone fumbling with the keys outside your door. Quickly, you hop from the bed and rush to open the door. Coming face to face with a dark haired brunette.

“Oh, good, you’re moved in already!” Taken aback by the woman’s words, your focus shifts between her and the large number of boxes next to her in the hallway.

“Do, uh, do you need help?”

“That’d be great. My name’s Kate. You’re Madelyn, right?”

A wave of shock hits you at hearing someone you’ve never met know your name. Seeing the look on your face causes Kate to laugh. She starts to shimmy inside and you hurriedly move to the side, so she can walk in easier. Once she’s in, you step out of the room and pick up one of the boxes. “It is, yeah. So, where do you want this?”

“You can just throw everything on the bed.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to move everything into the small dorm. Laughing as you both try to move around with the now limited floor space since Kate’s bed was quickly filled up with boxes.

After an offer to help the brunette unpack her things, you figure out she is quite uncaring about her clothes, but she is very particular about her bow. You learn she joined the school archery team last year, but already stands to make captain for her second year.

She tells you about how last year, on a dare, she hit the bell tower with an arrow. “So, you were the one who caused the crack in the bell tower?” Covering your mouth to try and hide your laugh. She looks at you with wide eyes, “I can’t confirm or deny which clock tower it was.”

Which only causes you to lose all control and laugh wildly out loud.

Successfully surviving the first four weeks of your second year in college, you get to celebrate at the first football game of the season. Thankfully, Kate is not into the sorority scene like your ex was, so you can go to the game together rather than alone.

With your back against your bed and your feet up the side of the wall, you’re waiting for Kate to get back from her archery practice. She made captain last week which led to you both sneaking out of the dorm at midnight and walking to the nearest pizzeria for a celebratory pizza. Your memory was promptly interrupted by the door slamming into the wall, “Shit. Sorry.”

Laughing at Kate’s mumbled apology to the girls next door who always complain about you two being unnecessarily loud. The brunette throws her sweaty t-shirt at your face which you quickly launch back at her as she softly shuts the door.

“Hurry up and get ready, Bishop. The game starts in thirty minutes and you smell like a wet dog.”

“Your words are so sweet. Dipped in honey I would say,” Kate’s words laced with sarcasm as she playfully flips you off while kicking off her shoes.

“Only in honey? You don’t get the soft rose petals or melted chocolate too?” Your words only earn you a deadpan stare from the archer. With a grunt, you push yourself off the wall and sit upright, “Don’t forget that tonight is a black out game, so you need to be in all black to show support.”

“Oh yes, I would hate not to show support. Unfortunately, all my black clothes are currently dirty-”

“I know, which is why I took the liberty of doing our laundry earlier today. Your outfit is laid out on the bed.” You say with a smile and move to make your fingers into the shape of a heart.

Kate can’t help but roll her eyes and laugh, “Of course, you did.” Walking up to her shower bag and picking it up, she heads to the door. “I will be back in no less than 10 minutes, Sargeant,” winking at you, knowing you hate the nickname, before quickly mumbling out, “and thank you for doing my laundry. You’re the best.” and walking out of the room.

Rushing a quick ‘You’re welcome’ out before the door shut. You begin getting dressed yourself, deciding on a black halter top and some black jean shorts with your black high-top converses. Throwing your hair up into a high ponytail, then pulling out your baby hairs so you don’t look like an egg.

True to her word, Kate walks back in 10 minutes later as you put headphones in and stare at the ceiling, you give your roommate privacy to get ready.

Feeling your headphones ripped out of your ears causes you to face the archer as she smiles, “How do I look? Andrews approved?” Kate stands in front of you in black long sleeve cropped top and blacked ripped jeans.

Jokingly, you raise an eyebrow at her, faking a moment of contemplation before returning the smile, “You look hot. You will definitely grab whoever’s attention you want.”

“I don’t want anyone's attention, '' the brunette scoffs.

“Sure you don’t and I don’t hope that my 7am professor is sick on Monday,” you retort.

“I don’t even think she is gonna be there,” Kate starts pulling on the sleeves of her shirt, “I don’t think football games are her thing.”

You take a moment to consider what to say. It’s been months since you had a crush on anyone and wanted to try and impress a girl. When you first found out your roommate started crushing on someone, you had been relentless in attempting to have her confess who it was. But as stubborn as you were, Kate was also head strong in keeping her secret.

“Her loss then. We can post a picture and she’ll see everything she misses out on by skipping the game,” you wink. Linking arms, you and Kate walk out of the dorm and head to the field.

The first stop you both make is the concession stand since food is the top priority any time the two of you leave the dorm together. Ordering you both an ICEE, yours being coke flavored and Kate’s cherry, and a hot dog each.

Once arriving at your seats, you turn around and ask the girls behind you if they could take a picture for you. You both hold up your ICEEs, smiling as you cheer for the picture.

Kate posts the picture on her Instagram, tagging you, and captions the post ‘I’m only here for the ICEEs’.

Quickly commenting ‘and my amazing company’ under her post. Then posting the picture onto your story with hearts underneath.

It’s not until the third quarter that you both finally relent and head to the bathrooms. While standing in line chatting about nothing and everything, the archer tenses beside you and presses herself between you and the wall, “what are yo-”

Kates proceeds to shush you and shrinks further into her hiding spot. Looking around to try and see what has your roommate acting so strange, you come up short since you don’t recognize anyone.

That is until you glance over to the concession line and notice Yelena, who you met your first day back on campus. Quickly turning around to Kate, “Oh, Kate. Do you remember how I told you I met this hilarious girl my first day back?“ You point over to the blonde, “She’s right there. Her name is Yelena.”

The brunette’s face pales suddenly. Worry rushes through you and your eyes immediately start scanning for what’s upset your friend so badly. Until it clicks, “Kate…Oh, Katie,” you start to whisper, “ is Yelena who you have a crush on?”

Her eyes met yours and you can tell you’re right. “I totally know her. I can introduce you if you want. Granted, I haven’t actually spoken with her for over a month, BUT we regularly exchange memes.”

Before Kate could give any response to you, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around.

“Madelyn, I thought it was you! How have you been?” Yelena says with a big smile on her face.

“I’m great. Settling into my classes and wishing I didn’t sign up for a 7am lecture that I completely don’t understand and will need to find a tutor for, the usual. How about you?”

As the blonde opens her mouth to reply, she notices Kate, “Bishop? Madelyn and Bishop? You two know each other?” .

“Roommates,” You both say at the same time before you continue, “We’re roommates. How do you know Kate?”

“She’s my lab partner,” she leans around you and looks at the brunette, “We have a project coming up and I’ve been meaning to reach out and figure out a time that works for you,” she runs her fingers through her blonde hair nervously.

A sneaky smile goes across your face, realizing that Yelena also seems to have a crush on Kate.

The archer stands up suddenly at her crush’s words, “I have archery practice most days, but I’m free on Tuesdays after 3pm, if that works.”

Yelena simply smiles back, “Tuesdays are great, except, I’m in class until 4. How about you come to my apartment, it’s five minutes from campus, and we can eat and start our research?”

“Off campus?”

“Yeah, my sister and her girlfriend wanted to have a secluded place away from the sorority and invited me to stay there too.”

You nod, listening to the two speak while also trying to give them privacy by looking anywhere else in the slowest moving restroom line.

Suddenly, Yelena’s phone goes off, “Speaking of the devil,” she answers.

You can’t hear whoever it is super well over the crowd cheering at what must have been the best touchdown of the game but once they quiet down you hear that voice again from trivia night, the redheaded sister of Yelena.

The blonde turns over her shoulder to look near the concession line she just came from, “I just want a coke.” You look over in the same direction as Yelena, “No, I don’t want anything else. I will be right back. I was just saying ‘hey’ to Madelyn and Bishop. Get your underwear out of a twist. I’m heading back now. Bye.”

Your heart leaps out of your chest when you finally notice the redhead in line. Making eye contact with her deep green eyes for longer than normal which causes Kate to nudge your shoulder as it’s finally your turn to walk into the restroom.

“Sorry,” you mumble to your roommate before turning back with one final look, receiving a wink from both women.

Kate gives a quick goodbye to Yelena before she walks away and then pushes you through the door.

Your roommate tries to ask you about it in the restroom, but you firmly shut down that topic and turn the conversation around on her. If you had known her crush was on Yelena, then you would have tried long ago to set them up on a blind date. Which is probably why the brunette didn't say who she was spending her days thinking about.

Making your way back to the seats, thankfully, without running into anyone else, you try to wipe the redhead’s face out of your memory, feeling incredibly embarrassed for your behavior when seeing her.

The last quarter of the game passes in a blur that you aren’t even aware the game ended until you notice the football players celebrating on the field and groups of people moving around you to leave at the same time. You glance up to the scoreboard and see the score, 30-28, your team winning.

Pulling out your phone, you swipe to pull up Instagram and post the scoreboard to your story, ‘our blood, our sweat, your tears’.

Linking your arm with Kate to make sure neither of you get lost on the way out of the stadium, the cool fall breeze whips at your shoulders the second you make it outside, but you welcome it after squeezing against every sweaty jock trying to get out of the stadium at the same time.

The two of you quietly laugh together when you look back to see people squeezing through the doors you just came through.

Neither of you are paying attention and accidentally bump into someone, to your dismay it was Yelena’s sister. Your body goes rigid at the sight of her. A scowl on her face until she settles her eyes on you then she gives you a soft smile.

“So, so, so sorry about that. We should have paid more attention.” The redhead’s smile slowly grows bigger as you continue talking. “Sorry again.”

You go to turn away and drag Kate along when you feel a warm hand softly wrap around your bicep, “No, I should be ashamed for not giving you more attention when you’re around,” smirking slightly at you.

A small blush rushes to your cheeks, opening and closing your mouth a few times before giving a gentle nod to the woman before turning around again.

Once you are out of hearing range from the redhead, Kate starts laughing, “Oh, you’re like a fly trapped in the spider's web.”

With a quick glare to your roommate and a prompt slap to the arm, “Shut up.”

As you lay on your bed, winding down your night time routine, you decide to scroll Instagram. Liking posts from your roommate and best friend, Kate’s, account. You didn’t think you would get as close to the girl as you had, but the two of you got along surprisingly well. Usually, you would be watching a new episode of Grey's Anatomy together tonight, however, Kate finally gathered her nerves and asked out Yelena, her lab partner, on a date.

Squealing and bouncing in your tiny dorm room bed, “Shut up! You did it? You finally admitted you have a crush on her?”

“I wouldn’t go that far!” The brunette laughs in response, “I just asked if she would want to go out to the new ax-throwing bar that just opened up.” She throws herself down on her back onto your bed, frowning and sounding much more somber. “But, Madelyn, Yelena asked if we could go this Thursday. She has to go to the sorority party this Friday.”

Moving around until you're laying down shoulder to shoulder with her, “Psh. Don’t even start, you are going and maybe even getting a second date for Friday.” Wiggling your eyebrows at her and shoving your body slightly into her.

“If that happens, then you’re coming with me. You need to get out and finally move on from your ex.” Placing your hand over your heart, you playfully scoff and wave off a mumbled agreement, trying to steer away from another possible conversation to find out who your ex is.

Smiling as you recall the memory, you suddenly hear the door to your dorm unlock.

Kate whispers to someone in the hall, who you assume to be Yelena, “Of course, I’d love to. See you tomorrow.”

Quickly, she walks in and immediately places her back on the door to close it. A wide grin on your roommate's face as she looks over to your bed. First kicking off her shoes, then running to jump into your bed. You stare at her, waiting for her to begin.

Kate sighs before exclaiming, “SHE ASKED ME OUT TO THE SORORITY PARTY TOMORROW!” Wrapping your arms around your friend as you jump together over the great news.”Get ready, Madelyn, you and I are going to a party!”

“Wait, Kate,” You pull back to look at her wide eyed, “I thought you were kidding.”

The party started at least an hour ago, but because of your indecisiveness on what to wear, which ended up just being a simple v cut blue dress with white high tops. As you both walk up, you stare at the brick house bursting with music. You hear Kate talking, “Party Rules 101. Don’t forget not to go upstairs with anyone. Do not accept a drink from anyone who is not me. I know you will want to leave early, so do not go without telling or texting that you’re heading out either. Okay?”

You blink a few times before you recognize she wants a reply, “Got it.” She smiles at you and takes your hands before walking up the porch steps.

Kate knocks on the white door. You wonder how anyone would be able to hear the knock inside with how loud the music is playing, but not even five seconds later the door is open. The sound of the music makes you take a step back. Anxiety washing over you instantly as you look down. You don’t even hear the words spoken between your friend and the redhead opening the door.

Kate’s hold on your hand tightens in hopes to reassure you before she pulls you along to step inside. It isn’t until Kate’s other hand waves to get your attention off the floor that you look up and realize both girls are staring at you expectedly. “I’m sorry, what?” you say softly.

The redhead chuckles and repeats herself, “Hi, I’m Wanda and the Vice President here. We have two bathrooms downstairs, one by the kitchen and one by the laundry room. Also, two upstairs just in case. Drinks, of course, are in the kitchen or the backyard. Is there anyone you are looking for that I can direct you towards? Or anything I can get you to drink?”

“I’m looking for Yelena actually. Do you know where she is?” Kate quickly replies. “She’s in the living room playing beer pong,” Wanda points over to her left, “Go right through there and you will find her.”

With lightning speed, Kate drops your hand and rushes off to find the blonde. Your mouth hangs open as you stare off in the direction she flew.

The redhead laughs as she looks at you before offering her arm, “Can I escort you anywhere?” Glancing around the foyer, you can't recognize anyone, so you nervously agree and link your arm with hers, “I don’t think I know anyone else here, so anywhere you want to go is fine with me.”

A bright smile spreads on the Vice President's face as she guides you out of the foyer and into the backyard to watch someone attempt a keg stand. You can’t help but look stunned as you watch the girl drink. “Would you like to try?” Wanda startles you with the question. Shaking your head no with absolute certainty that you could never have arm strength or lung capacity.

After a few moments more of watching, she slowly guides you over to the pool. The redhead kicks off her shoes and motions for you to do the same. The two of you sit down along the edge and place your feet in the water. You start to mindlessly kick your feet along to the music that is playing throughout the speakers. “So, am I allowed to ask your name?”

Multiple memories come to mind with times the Vice President has heard your name, “I’m pretty sure you know my name.”

Wanda’s tongue drags underneath the bottom of her teeth, “Oh, I do, but I want to hear it from your pretty, little mouth.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, taking a moment to settle your racing heart, you slowly speak, “Madelyn.”

Deciding to try and control the conversation you cut her off before she could say anything else. “Do you usually take interest in random people that show up to your sorority’s parties?”

She chuckles at your question, “No, not usually. But I would not say you’re a random person. Plus I have never had the pleasure of someone as captivating as you walk through those doors.”

“Yeah, right.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the redhead.

She grabs your chin and makes you look up at her, “Oh I didn’t take you for the bratty type.” You could have sworn that her eyes sparkled when she said that.

You shutter, trying to think of a reply. Your brain is completely lagging at the touch and sound of her voice. Wanda’s thumb moves and pushes between your lips, “Is there anything even going through that little head of yours?”

A small groan rips it way out your throat and your eyelids droop slightly. The redhead pushes down slightly onto your tongue.

Mumbling around her thumb, “Yes.”

The Vice President’s smirks at your reply, “Yes,” She mocks you, “Yes, to what?”

You shift your eyes back to her as you take in the specific color of her eyes, a sparkling green, this time a soft moan comes out of your lips, “Please..”

You think Wanda must take pity on you because suddenly she drops her hand from your mouth. Everything about her seems to return back to when you first walked in the house. She’s back to being sweet and polite, it makes your head spin. “What brings you to the party tonight, Madelyn? Well besides escorting Bishop, of course.”

This was a question you didn’t know how to answer. Why were you here in the backyard of your ex’s sorority spending time with her Vice President? Glancing around the backyard, noticing that you still don't know anyone here, you sigh, “Honestly, I’m not sure. Kate said I needed to come if she got a second date because, apparently, I need to move on.”

“And do you want to?” She looks at you expectantly, “Move on, that is.”

“I don’t even know what I would have to move on from. It’s been months since we broke up. And she didn’t care about me long before that anyways.” You let out a dry laugh, “I don’t even think she liked me. She just liked sex with me.”

The look on the redhead’s face makes you stop your ranting, “Sorry, that is not proper party conversation,” you force out a laugh, “way too depressing.”

She smiles, dragging her eyes down your torso and onto your legs then pulling them back up before landing her eyes back on your face. “How would you like to find something to drink?”

Thankful for her change in conversation, you smile slightly, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The two of you make your way through the house and into the kitchen, “What will it be? Beer? Vodka?” walking around the kitchen as you listen to her talk. “... Or maybe a juice box?”

Whipping your head around, you glare at the Vice President, scoffing, “I’m not a child. I can drink alcohol.”

Right after you speak, you hear someone laughing from the archway. “Oh, Wands, what a delightful surprise,” she steps further into the small kitchen, “Tell me you were able to get us this cute little thing to play.”

This makes you snap your head quickly around again. A rush of arousal runs through you when your eyes lock onto the redhead, “And who the hell are you?”

The cheshire smile on her face makes it clear she remembers you, she moves towards you before gently lifting up your hand as she bows her head to place a soft kiss on it, “To you, Madam President.”

“What the fuck.” You snatch your hand away and look towards the sparkling green eyed woman before returning your gaze in front of you.

“Oh, what a dirty mouth, I will have to clean that out.” The redhead smirks at you. Another wave of arousal hits you, gulping as you maintain eye contact, “Like you’d get the chance.”

Wanda speaks up, breaking the growing tension in the room, “Darling, wouldn’t she just be…” walking up and placing a finger under your chin, her voice dropping, “...divine?”

You shutter at her words. Eyes bouncing between the two redheads suddenly much closer to you than before. Realizing they have successfully surrounded you, your arousal spiking but you choose to mask with slight panic. “So what is this then? Two spiders trapping someone in their web and then going in for the kill?” Puffing out your chest slightly, trying to gain back some more control. “You think the President and Vice President would require consent.”

Wanda chuckles in your ear behind you, “Oh dear, we do.” Bringing her finger up to brush some hair behind your ear before speaking softly, “We only accept enthusiastic consent. Absolute begging.”

Your knees wobble slightly at her words. “A little archer told us that you needed to move on, and typically we wouldn’t do rebound sex, but you…” The President takes a sharp inhale through her teeth, “You are too special to pass up.”

“So what do you say, baby, want to be ours for the night?” Wanda whispers.

A million thoughts race through your mind. Most importantly, the fact you’ve never had a threesome or sex with people you don’t really know. You look around the kitchen and notice how nobody else even acknowledges the two redheads circling you like prey.

“I say,” You gulp, mustering all the fake confidence you can find. “I say show me a good time first and we will see.”

The two women share a sinister smile before they each drape an arm around you and walk you out of the kitchen and into a room that only stores a pool table and some chairs.

“We have the next game.” The President says to the small group finishing up their game before walking you over to the side of the room. She lowers her hands to your hips and lifts you with ease onto the barstool behind you.

Shock fills your face at her actions before you glare at her, “Excuse you. I am perfectly capable of sitting in a seat by myself.”

The redhead simply smiles at you before moving to stand next to the side of your chair, absentmindedly running fingers through your hair.

“Hello? Earth to you. Usually, when someone speaks to you it's polite to respond.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. She gently turns your head to look at her. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, baby. I won’t do it again.”

“Madelyn, I have a name and it’s not baby.” You scoff, “What is your name anyways?”

She winks at you before smirking, “I told you. To you, it’s Madam President.”

“That’s not a name. That’s a title. What’s your name?” Your eyes met the redhead locked in a standstill. You already know you won’t last long. Her eyes trap you in endless pools of deep green. They are powerful and unmoving, you huff, “What’s your name, Madam President?”

The President lifts her hand and holds your lower lip before pulling it down and out slightly, causing you to look through your lashes to maintain eye contact, the action making you feel as if you’re losing the last shreds of your control. The redhead presses down the slightest bit more before pinching your lip and releasing it, “Natasha.”

Wanda, who has been repeatedly running her fingers from your shoulder to the knee, leans over you slightly if only to be in your personal space, “Natty, it’s our turn now.”

You go to hop down, but yet again your hips are grabbed and you’re picked up and put down by Natasha’s hands. You give her a glare even as a blush starts covering your cheeks.

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t be like that. I would hate to have to spank that gorgeous ass for the first time surrounded by all these people.” Your blush deepens with your embarrassment at the volume the redhead spoke. The heat pooling between your legs only causes you more confusion.

The three of you walk towards the table. Natasha moves to rack the balls and Wanda takes you over to pick out a cue stick, grabbing one for Natasha as well.

It’s decided that you will be on your own team, which you tried to protest by saying you have never played a game of pool in your life, but your complaints fall on deaf ears.

Wanda starts off by breaking the balls, officially starting your unfair game. She gets a solid into a pocket, “That makes you stripes, baby.” She says in a sickeningly sweet voice before getting two more solid balls into pockets.

Standing there with your mouth open, you begin to complain, “This is so unfair. There is no way I will be able to even get close to hitting even one of these balls in!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you in the first round,” Wanda says, holding up her hands. She walks over to you and shows you how to bend down and how to aim your cue stick. You lean down like she showed you but still, you feel her hand press down between your shoulders as she speaks in your ear, “Like this, darling. Eyes level with your target.”

Acutely aware this position has almost completely folded in half on the pool table, you pull back the stick and then push it forward with a decent amount of force.

And you completely miss.

To make matters worse, you got one of their balls closer to the pocket instead. Groaning, you stand up and look unamused at the two redheads who are both trying to hold back their smiles at your reaction, “This game is stupid.”

Natasha comes up to the table, leans down, noticeably higher than the position Wanda moved you into. She breathes in and out, then hits the cue ball, causing it to sink a solid ball into the nearby pocket. She glances up at you, smirking, while still leaning down. Causing a completely automatic eye roll. The redhead arches her eyebrow at you before moving to a new spot. She leans down, breathes in and out, and.. misses. “HA!” You cheer as your stripe ball goes into the pocket instead of the solid ball that was next it.

You walk up to the table for your turn and glance to Wanda for her help again. Natasha subtly shakes her head, which you don’t notice since she was behind you. Wanda simply gives you a nod of her head, encouraging you to try by yourself. So you lean down and focus on which ball you’re aiming for and what pocket is your goal.

Breathing in and out a few times before pulling back your cue stick on your inhale and pushing it forward on your exhale. As the stick connects with the cue ball you feel a stinging on your ass. You immediately stand up and spin around with a glare, “Hey! That’s not fair.”

The President laughs as she looks over your head, “Well, it seemed like good luck because you got the ball in.”

Spinning around again to see if she was lying but there, clear as day, you see your stripe ball missing from the table and sitting in the pocket. “Don’t think for a second that I won't punish whiny, bratty behavior though, baby.” Natasha whispers in your ear, her front flush against your back, “Now, say thank you.”

You shiver at her words. The logical part of your brain can’t stop wondering why you should thank her for spanking you, but when you feel her hands on your hips as she pulls them closer to her own, that part of your mind goes blank. The heat between your legs grows even hotter and you let out a soft sigh before fingers hook under your chin and guide you to look up at Natasha, “Say thank you.” She softly growls.

“Thank you.” It comes out more as a pant than actual words but the redhead is pleased enough.

The rest of the game crawls by slowly as each redhead tries to work you up with innocent touches and whispered words. Your head becomes fuzzy in the best way, but even in this state you are completely aware that every other stripe ball that’s gone in is because of Wanda and Natasha simply trying to keep the game going.

With all solid and striped balls now off the table it’s down to whoever can sink the 8 ball in the game.

Wanda glances at you before smirking, “What if we make a little bet out of this?”

You can’t help but let out a dry laugh, “Are you joking? This whole thing is already a game of if you two can get me into bed.” Natasha licks her lips at your words, causing your cheeks to blush even more than they were.

The Vice President ignores your reply, “Great! So I was thinking, if we sink the 8 ball, then you give us a strip show,” you arch your eyebrow at the redhead, “and if you sink the 8 ball, then you give us a strip show.” She winks at you.

“That’s absolutely-” You're cut off by Natasha speaking, “Deal.”

“Deal?” You shriek as the two redheads shake each other's hand, “You two cannot agree on this without me also agreeing.”

They both come up to you and place a hand on your cheek, “And do, baby?” Wanda mumbles into your ear. Right after Natasha says, smirking, “Wanna make a deal?”

Your skin flushes at their voices, your mind hanging onto their every word. You slowly close your eyes and your head falls back slightly. Wanda lowers her head to breathe along your neck, occasionally brushing her tongue against it while Natasha’s fingers tangle around your hair, pulling it back.

A soft moan hits your ears, shocking you when you realize it came from you. Suddenly coming back to yourself, you lightly push off the women, clearing your throat to try and fake your control over yourself once again. “If I sink the 8 ball,” you take a deep breath, “then I decide the next time you touch me.”

Both redheads simply nod their heads in agreement before extending their arms to allow you space for your shot. Looking over the table and considering all the choices you quickly realize that you absolutely have no shot at winning. Ignoring every other reason besides the obvious one, you didn’t want to win.

But you wouldn’t make it apparent to the President and Vice President.

So you lean down, “Corner pocket.” You spend a considerable amount of time figuring out your angle and practicing the strength of your hit. With one more inhale, you pull back the cue stick then exhale and strike the cue ball.

You hit the 8 ball but it stops just short of falling into the pocket. You give a shy smile to the women before stepping back.

There’s a silent conversation going on between the redheads before Wanda nods and steps up to the table. “Corner pocket.” She winks at you before aiming at the cue ball and without any delay she strikes. The 8 ball disappearing into the corner pocket.

Without even a second to think, your feet are suddenly lifted into the air and over Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda comes up to grab the cue stick from you and places it on the pool table.

Once you realize the redhead plans to walk out of the parlor room with you over her shoulder, you begin to protest, “Wait. Wait. I can walk. You don’t have to think I’ll back out of the bet.”

You feel a soft hand brush the back of your thigh as the sparkling green eyed woman steps into your view.

“Oh, baby, we know, but Natty here is a very proud winner and wants to show you off,” her thin fingers smoothing down your hair. You stare at her dumbfounded as she swipes her thumb across your lower lip, “If you’re a good girl then we’ll give you an extra special reward. Can you do that for us?”

The Vice President allows you your time to process as you blink a few times before nodding your head.

A swift smack to your ass has you gasping as Natasha corrects your action, “Words baby.”

“Yes.” Another softer smack to your ass. “Yes, I can be a good girl.”

Both redheads make a pleased humming sound before walking out of the room. You try to avoid eye contact with all the partygoers. The blush across your face and chest only grows at your slight embarrassment.

It isn’t long until you're walking up to the stairs. Suddenly stopping right at the bottom, trying to turn your body at the sound of Kate’s voice. Mortification slams into you when she leans around the redhead holding you to look at your face.

Her tone relentlessly teasing, “Now, I thought I told you not to go upstairs with anyone,” the memory of her words at your arrival pulled to the front of your mind.

Rolling your eyes at your roommate only caused her to laugh further at your predicament.

Yelena speaking prompts the brunette to move back into the circle of conversation with her and the redheads, “Don’t kill the poor girl. It would severely ruin my chances with Bishop.”

Natasha laughs at her sister’s comment, “Please, the only thing she’ll get is mind altering pleasure,” pinching your ass when finishing the sentence. “Now, I’d love to chat, but I have a bet to cash in on.”

Wanda leading the way up the stairs, pausing as Kate speaks, looking up at your roommate, “She has a study group tomorrow morning at 10am! She can’t miss it!”

The redheads laugh, continuing up the stairs, the President turns slightly as she walks and salutes to the brunette, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Less than fifteen steps later, you’re carried into a large room. Your heart stopping completely at the sound of the door closing and locking. As if noticing the slight pure panic, Wanda stands by the door twisting the handle, “It locks from inside, so if you twist the handle, then it’s automatically unlocked,” then she relocks the door.

Nodding your head in thanks and understanding of her words, she gives you a reassuring smile in return.

Then, Natasha lightly throws you onto the bed, a grunt leaving your lips, leaning over you, she smirks. Wanda comes up to sit beside your head and gently rubs your forehead with her thumbs.

The deep green eyed woman locks her eyes with yours before placing a soft kiss on your chest, then throwing herself to the empty side of you.

“Now, don’t keep us waiting,” you turn your head to see sparkling green eyes looking at you.

They wait a few seconds before both women have another silent conversation. Suddenly, you startle the redheads by standing up.

Standing with your hands on your hips, stilling your voice and shifting on your feet, “Well, this will be rather awkward to do in silence.”

The President smirks at you before pulling out her phone and playing ‘Supermassive Black Hole by Muse!’ from her speaker.

Slowly you begin to sway your hips and drag your fingers across your chest. Kicking your shoes off as sexually as you can. You let the song play for about twenty seconds before you lean down and run your nails up your legs stopping where your thighs meet your center.

Turning around, you hook one finger under your right strap and pull it down, staring directly into sparkling green eyes. Then, turning your head to face the other direction and repeat the action, but slower, as you look into the deep green eyes.

Your dress only stays up from pushing out your chest. You continue to dance around until you slowly sit down onto your knees. Rolling onto the ground, your head closer to the women, arching your back as you begin to spread apart your knees. Never looking away from the redheads as your knees hit the floor. Watching as both women tighten their grips on the bed sheets.

Straightening your legs and bringing them back together, slowly using all your core strength to sit up rather than using your hands. You turn around and crawl over to the bed, standing before placing one foot on the President’s thigh.

She brings her hand up to gently hold onto your calf before digging her nails in. Biting your lip at the minimal pain before moving your hands across your chest, breathlessly Natasha speaks, “God, don’t be that much of a tease. Let Daddy see.”

Grabbing her hands, you bring them up to your chest, she squeezes before pulling down your dress exposing your breasts, strangely thanking yourself for foregoing a bra tonight.

The cool air in the room feeling amazing on your burning skin.

Lowering your foot, you walk over to the Vice President and bend how she showed you earlier during your game of pool. A loud hum of approval leaving her mouth.

Keeping your position, you gather the material at the hem of your dress and pull it over your head. Leaving Wanda staring directly at your covered center. Her finger gently travels up the inside of your thighs, never reaching the apex.

Noticing the dark patch on your light gray underwear, she speaks mockingly, “Do you want Mommy and Daddy to take care of that for you?”

A small moan slips out as you feel two different fingers suddenly press against the dark spot.

“Words, baby,” both women huskily say at the same time.

“Please, please,” you’re all but moaning.

A smack on your ass that you can tell was from Wanda by the feeling of rings soothing the sting, “Be specific, baby.”

You breathe in and out a few times before roughly swallowing, “Please, take care of me.”

The redheads, losing their lack of control, slowly decide that your answer was good enough for now, for the first time.

Natasha walks around to face you, her hands find your shoulders and makes you stand up. Wanda moves further back on the bed, removing her shirt and bra before leaning against the pillows.

Grabbing onto the President’s face, you stand on your tip toes and connect your lips to hers. She eagerly begins kissing you back, nipping at your lip. Moving her hands to your ass, smacking your ass lightly, so you’ll jump into her arms.

Continuing to kiss you as she walks to the side of the bed and places you down. Ending your kiss, a low whine comes from you. Sealing your lips quickly but both women have already heard you and have lust flashing through their eyes.

“Now, go ahead and make Mommy feel good while Daddy makes you feel good.” Nodding your head at the redhead’s directions, you turn around and crawl up the bed and between Wanda’s spread legs. She holds up her hands and guides your lips to her nipple.

Natasha begins to massage your ass and tease your slit over your underwear, soaking them further by the second.

Sucking and pulling on the Vice President’s left nipple, bringing your right hand up to roll her right nipple between your fingers. You continue this while feeling the unending teasing around your clit.

Popping off Wanda’s left nipple, you drag your tongue across her chest until you can wrap your lips around the right nipple, twirling your tongue around the nub.

On the first suck, you feel a rush of cool air hit your center as your underwear is pulled down your legs, moaning loudly at the sensation. Without even a second to spare you feel the redhead’s tongue lick up the wetness on your lips before softly pushing her tongue inside your entrance.

Your jaw slacks at the feeling, your head falls away from the needy nipples in front of you. The redhead pulls you back against her nipple, “That’s a good girl. You’re giving Mommy so much pleasure,” holding you close to feel every sound come from your lips, moans of her own filling the room.

Natasha licks her way up to your clit. Giving soft licks before wrapping her lips around your clit, humming, then pulling softly on the bundle of nerves.

Your knees start shaking at the pleasure, causing you to fall further onto Wanda.

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble around the nipple.

Bringing her fingers up to your clit, rubbing circles, “Come on, baby. You're such a good girl for us.”

Her fingers slowly push into you, curling slightly against your velvet walls. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Let Daddy make you cum, alright?”

A truly unholy sound fell from your lips, clenching around Natasha’s fingers, Wanda lifts your head slightly, so you could reply, “Please, make me cum.”

Lowering her mouth back to your clit as she sucks, licks, and nips all over while her fingers continue a relentless pace. Wanda brings her own finger to your nipples and begins rolling them between her fingers. “God, everything about you, baby. Everything is perfect,” pulling at the nubs blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” your voice cracking at exclamation. Shaking from the stimulation, the coil in your stomach tightens more with each second.

Wanda leans her head forward next to your ear, “Come for Mommy, baby. Come all over Daddy.”

A simultaneous pinch from the Vice President's fingers on your nipples and the President's pinch on your clit has a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a scream rips from your throat as you cum all over Natasha’s face and fingers and fall on top of Wanda.

Dragging out your orgasm not stopping until she's pulled every sound from your lips does she begin to lick up all traces of your orgasm, sitting up and moving towards the other. You look up just in time to see them share a deep kiss, each moaning at the taste of you on their tongues.

Breaking apart, deep green eyes look at you, “Do you have another one in you, baby? You came hard enough to drown me,” lust shining in her eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just make me cum that hard again,” your eyes pleading.

Smirking at you, Wanda moves you to scoot down the bed, tapping your thighs. It takes a second for you to realize where she wants you, but you quickly move to hover above her face. Natasha settles between her girlfriends thighs, removing her skirt and underwear in one pull, “Now, this will be a sight to see,” lowering her mouth immediately, sucking the redhead’s clit into her mouth the way she likes.

Biting your lip at the sight, you sit down, your eyes connecting with the deep green ones between the redhead’s thighs. Allowing the Vice President to move you where she’s most comfortable. Feeling her tongue push into your entrance has you arching your back.

Natasha’s fingers move to Wanda’s clit, rubbing at a brutal pace. Below you the redhead sucks in a sharp breath. Moving to drag her teeth along your clit.

Your hips arch at the feeling, soft grunts passing from your lips, “Shit.”

Pulling you back against the redhead’s mouth, “Tsk, tsk, where do you think you’re going, baby girl?”

Rutting your hips against the face below you. Moans and pleas mumbling out of your mouth at the suction of your clit. Natasha sits up, keeping her fingers on Wanda’s clit, and leans towards you. Digging your nails into her shoulders, as she begins to leave soft bites along your chest before kissing up your neck.

Inhaling sharply as her teeth sink into your pulse point, sucking harshly on the delicate skin, “Such a dirty mouth.”

The pleasure on your clit increases, building up your orgasm quickly. Moaning as you drag your nails down the redhead’s back.

Wanda becomes sloppy underneath you, hinting at her own release coming soon. “Mommy’s getting close. Come with Mommy, baby,” Natasha mumbles against your neck, pushing you right to the edge.

Sucking your earlobe into her mouth and biting down on your soft skin, “Seeing how you ride Mommy’s face makes me wonder how well you would ride Daddy’s dick,” her words sending both you and the woman beneath you over the edge.

The Vice President slowly licks your cunt to clean you as the President drags her finger through her girlfriend’s release. Bringing them up to your mouth, “Be a good girl,” and pushing them between your lips.

A sinful moan escapes both of your lips, though for different reasons. Exhaustion riding through your body allows Natasha to gently lift you off Wanda’s face and leans you against the pillows.

Your eyelids fight too close to receive a moment of rest, quickly winning over your desire to stay conscious. Both women get off the bed walking into the en-suite and cleaning themselves up quickly, returning with a towel for you.

Noticing your sleeping form, the two exchange a look before Wanda’s soft hands spread your knees and gently clean you up.

“She’s perfect for us,” the President whispers.

“She is, but how can we convince her of that,” the Vice President whispers back.

As a plan forms in her mind, the redhead smirks, “We will just have to show her.”

Wanda throws the towel aiming for the laundry hamper, but misses, before laying down into the bed next to you. Natasha follows suit, listening to the music thrum downstairs while closing her eyes.

Groaning and swatting at the air when you hear the familiar sounds of a phone alarm going off.

Your messy morning hair is removed from your face, startling you into opening your eyes. Confusion flashing through you until you see two pairs so similar yet different green eyes.

“Wha-,” you begin, but are cut off.

“I would have let you sleep in more, baby, but we need to get you dressed for your study group. The last thing I need is my little sister trying to murder me for ruining her chances with the archer.”

Blinking a few times, begging for your brain to catch up, yet all your mind can think of is, “Her name is Kate.”

The redheads smile at you, “Yes, of course, we apologize,” Wanda says sincerely.

With a pat on your thigh, Natasha sits up, “Now, I don't think you want to go to your study group in that little blue dress you were wearing last night, so you can borrow something of ours.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can just run to my dorm. I need to brush my teeth anyway, so it’s okay.” However the looks you receive fills your mind with doubt, “What time is it?”

“9:45am,” Wanda grimaces. Your jaw falls open at the realization that you will definitely not make it in time unless you go straight there. Cursing yourself for not understanding your math course better and needing to go to the study groups in the first place, with a deep breath you look up at the women, “Show me the outfit.”

Standing in the mirror you can’t complain. It was a simple pair of medium washed jeans, though slightly too long since you are shorter than both women, they have been cuffed and paired with a loose long sleeve shirt sporting their sorority name and logo. You felt a bit like a walking advertisement. The worst part, yet best part, was the sports bra Natasha gave you to wear.

Cringing as you put on your soiled underwear from the night before, you throw on your shoes and tie your hair into your best messy, not messy, bun. Hurrying down the stairs towards the front door. To your surprise, the redheads follow behind you. Thinking they must be the type to walk out guests, you say nothing.

Reaching for the door handle, you're cut off by Wanda’s ring-covered hand opening the door for you, extending her arm in an ‘after you, ladies first’ motion.

Arching an eyebrow at the action before turning to face them, “Thank you for the clothes. I’ll return them washed by the end of next week, swear,” beginning to turn back around before stopping and facing them again, whispering, “and thank you for last night too,” then rushing down the steps of the porch.

Stepping out of the doorway both women laugh before replying, “Now, that you don’t need to thank us for.” Trying to hide your blush from the redheads as you speed walk down the sorority's front lawn, checking your phone for the time, seven minutes to get there, thinking ‘I can do it’ as you break out into a run across campus.

#shay writes #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader smut #wandanat #wandanat smut #wandanat fic #sorority au #college au

587 notes · View notes

marvelouslizzie · 10 months

Text

I'm Not Sure If I Can Do This

Summary: You want to try something new and Bucky isn't sure if he can do it.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, edging, no protection, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: I wrote this little filthy story because of my friend Andreea's prompt. I'm glad it turned out to be something decent.

You can also send me requests if you want. I can't guarantee I'll write it but I'll certainly try.

Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing ❤️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

You thought explaining why you wanted this or even convincing him to do it would be harder, but it was quite the opposite. Bucky Barnes is a guy who loves to give, especially when it comes to pleasure. It’s like he’s thriving on your pleasure while he’s delaying his own. He never made you wait or made you beg for release. Not once. And you really want to be desperate for some reason. And you have no intention to find out why. You just want to experience it. You want him to tease you relentlessly, deny your orgasm, and finally when he allows it, you want it to be explosive.

It’s easy to imagine him doing all those things to you, but the idea of explaining it is just dreadful. That’s why you were so reluctant. You weren’t sure if he would like the idea or maybe he would misunderstand your intention. None of that happened, though. You just said you wanted to try it and as you started to explain why, you noticed how his eyes were shining mischievously. That’s when you realized it was more than okay for him.

And that’s how you ended up all naked and frustrated on your bed. Bucky is a man of his word, so when he said he was going to enjoy this, he was not lying. He has been teasing you for a while now, and all you feel is frustration and of course, that undeniable anticipation.

“Bucky…” You whine as he’s moving so damn slowly inside you. The touches, the kisses, his damn tongue… It all feels good but not enough to make you come.

“Yes?”

The way he looks into your eyes makes you melt. You are so close to forgetting that he has been torturing you. He has been denying your orgasm every time you are getting close, yet the look in his eyes… It shows his true feelings.

“What do you want, baby?”

He sounds like he has no idea what you want. You wish you could hate him for this, but you can’t. You’ve been imagining how this would feel like for so long, and he’s just turning your fantasy into reality while enjoying the ride.

“I wanna come.”

You don’t care if you sound desperate because you are. You are desperate to come. You want that relief you took for granted for so long. All those times he never denied you, all those times he never even paused for a second before giving you all the pleasure in the world.

“Beg for it.”

His response surprises you. You can see the desire in his eyes and how much he’s actually enjoying this, but you never expected that he would be so into it. Maybe he didn’t know it either, but he definitely loves the state you are in. He even seems to enjoy edging himself because while torturing you, he’s torturing himself as well.

“Beg?”

“Yes, baby. Beg. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I-” You can’t deny that, can you? You always imagined it this way, but you never actually begged before. It’s easier when you are just imagining things, but looking at his face and saying those words… It feels incredibly hard.

“If you are not ready to beg yet, you are not ready to come, sweetheart.”

Oh, that’s awfully cruel of him yet so freaking hot. He knows you want to do this so badly, but your pride is standing in the way, and he’s willing to take you to the point where you wouldn’t care about it anymore. Yet your mouth says something else.

“But I am so close…”

“I know.” He moves in and out of you. His pace is torturously slow, yet it still feels amazing.

Then his fingers move onto your clit, gently rubbing it, and you feel a jolt of electricity all through your body. It’s like a promise. The promise of blinding pleasure, but he stops after a couple of rubs and makes you whine.

“You know what you have to say, don’t you?” You nod in response, tears are beginning to well up. “You can get what you want, any time you want.” You know that, but it’s like your mouth is having a hard time saying those words. “And you know we can stop this any time you want, right?”

He’s trying to remind you of your safe word, but you don’t want to stop. You have no intention of using it.

“Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetically, but it makes him smile. Why is it so hard to say?

“Please what?” He combines his words with actions. He moves a little bit harder inside you, and it reminds you of what you need. All you need is to ask him, and you know he will give it to you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to beg.

“Please move harder.” When you open your eyes back up, you see Bucky smirking. It just spurs something inside you. “Please, please…”

“Oh, baby…” He sounds so condescending yet loving at the same time. You have no idea how that’s even possible. “You really need it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Your answer comes out instantly. Fuck your pride, you need this.

“Then you will get what you want.” You feel relieved but it doesn’t last long. “But I have one condition.” He completely stops while talking. “You won’t come before I say you can, got it?”

“But…”

“I will move faster and harder, like you asked me to, but you gotta hold it.” He sounds like he’s explaining edging to someone who has no idea what it is. “Show me what a good girl you can be, and I will give you what you want.”

Fuck… He’s making it so hard and hot at the same time. You really didn’t think he would take it this seriously. You thought just a please would be enough for him but it’s not. Yet you can’t seem to find it in your heart to regret asking him to do this.

“Can you do that for me?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”

“I know you can take it, sweetheart. Just show me how good you are.”

He’s a menace. He knows praising you will help and he’s using it damn well. So you find yourself nodding, and that’s when he finally starts to move again.

His hands are grabbing your waist, while he’s fucking you the way you imagined it. It’s rough, it’s fast, but god damn, it feels amazing. You feel your orgasm is quickly approaching, especially after all that teasing, and you try not to focus on the pleasure. It’s so hard to move against your nature. Your body just wants to give into it and enjoy it to the fullest, but no, that’s not what your mind wants. So you close your eyes to fight it. Maybe that will help.

“No, no, no.” You hear Bucky saying. “You gotta look me in the eyes, baby. No cheating.”

“But that’s not…” He doesn’t let you finish.

“But it is.”

“Fine.” You know you sound like a child when you open your eyes back to see his pretty ones. They are so full of love and desire. You could come just looking into his eyes but you won’t. Not until he says so. You want to experience that crashingly intense orgasm.

“Good girl.”

As if calling you a good girl with that deep voice of his isn’t enough, he starts to gently rub your clit and you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your pussy is begging for release. So are you.

“You are doing so good for me, baby.” His voice is full of adoration. “You look so beautiful. All spread for me. Just waiting for my command to come around my cock.” He slams so hard inside you that it makes you moan even though you were trying to hold back all this time. “Let me hear you. You make such pretty noises.”

“Please, Bucky.” It’s so hard to hold back. You can feel tears running down your cheeks. You never wanted to come this badly in your life before. “Please let me come.”

Finally, those words come out of your mouth. It has been a tough journey, but finally, you can ignore your pride and just ask for what you really want.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He suddenly pushes your legs onto your chest, practically folding you into two. That allows him to move deeper inside you. “You can come now,” he says right before he starts to move again.

And just like that, you start coming on his command. It’s unbelievable how your body was just waiting for four words to come out of his mouth. All that teasing, all the build-up and anticipation pays off. Your whole body starts to shake while he’s railing you like there’s no tomorrow. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted with the most delicious moans coming out of them.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He sounds like he’s close himself, but you are too lost in the bubble of pleasure to do or say something about it.

It’s nothing like you have ever felt before. It’s so intense that there’s no thought in your mind, other than Bucky and how good he makes you feel. It’s so long that you forget to breathe for a while. Your ears are buzzing, and your muscles are contracting. You never knew this was possible. You never knew it would be better than you imagined.

When you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes to see Bucky with the most pleased expression. He hasn’t come yet. You can feel how hard he’s inside you, but you can see how accomplished he feels.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He keeps moving with the same pace, chasing his high.

“Come for me, Bucky,” you say while you reach out to touch his face. He has been working so hard to make your fantasy real. “Come inside me. Please.”

“Fuck.” You can see he’s about to come. The veins around his eyes get so visible when he’s close. “You want it, baby?” His voice comes out like a groan.

“Yes. I want it. Please, give it to me.”

That does it. You just watch how he starts to come and damn, it’s such a pretty sight. You have seen this many times before, but it never ceases to surprise you. Him losing himself in pleasure like that… Especially when you know you are the reason for it. You are the reason why he’s so turned on. You are the reason why he comes so hard. You are the one doing this to him.

When he’s done, he gently moves out and rolls next to you. You whine a little because of how empty you suddenly feel. You feel his hot and deep breaths on your neck. As soon as you think you are feeling a little cold, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid someone else will hear you.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”

“Oh, I saw how much you enjoyed it, Mr. I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This.”

He scoffs at you bringing up his first reaction. Oh, how wrong he was. It was a completely unexpected experience.

“Maybe we should try choking next time.” You test the waters reluctantly, but the look he’s giving you is nothing but promising.

2K notes · View notes

runariya · 27 days

Text

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 1

summary: After being sold to a dangerous wolf hybrid at a secret auction, you find yourself bound to him in a game of control and obsession. pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: DDDNE, angst, violence, trauma, hybrid trafficking, JK is an Alpha, nud!ty, hormone suppressants, b!ting, blood, sniffing, the obsession is slightly showing, murd€r, gun, branding, fainting, lmk if I forgot smth - THX word count: ~ 1.8K

a/n: why would I give you a sneak peek when I could just gift you the first chapter? hihi 🤭 the chapters to this story will be as short as this one...soooo....and PLEASE MAKE SURE TO CHANGE YOUR SETTINGS, I CAN'T TAG SOME OF YOU 😭

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

masterlist • 2

You haven’t slept in days, haven’t felt right in yourself for even longer, but somehow the adrenaline still floods through you, keeping you wide awake, on edge, your senses sharper than they’ve ever been, catching every little movement around you like your life depends on it, which is truly does.

It’s hard to believe that just two months ago, you were innocently walking down the street, not paying any attention to the blacked-out car with its door wide open or the figure standing across the pavement pretending to be on the phone. You had no idea then that you’d soon wake up miles away in another country, surrounded by other cat hybrids, far from the only home you've ever known.

You’re not stupid—you know exactly why they took you, what they’ve got planned, what they want from you. Even so, you stubbornly refuse to accept the grim future they’ve laid out for you.

The factory hall you’re crammed into now, in some grubby back room with the other hybrids, is every bit as filthy as your once-pristine black fur. What was once sleek and soft is now matted with dirt, so vile it makes you want to gag.

You’ve overheard the men who dragged you here talking about some hidden annual auction, where dangerous men from all over the world come to bid on the likes of you. Ever since, the other hybrids have been breaking down, sobbing and begging, their wails so relentless you feel like your brain is going to explode. Yet you stay quiet, ears pricked, your senses locked on every faint sound coming from behind the door.

Soon enough, they come for you all, shoving you roughly through the corridor you were brought down earlier, though this time they steer you down a different path, lining you up on a shabby makeshift stage. The construction site-style floodlights beam down so harshly that you can’t keep your eyes open for long, the brightness overwhelming and painful.

Through your squinting eyes, you catch glimpses of the men gathered in front of the stage—some muttering quietly to each other, others smoking as they lazily size up each woman. You search for even a hint of kindness in their faces, but of course, there’s none to be found—only cold stares from the most powerful predator hybrids. You feel completely exposed, even with clothes on, so vulnerable that it’s a wonder you don’t simply keel over from the intensity of being watched.

The auction starts soon enough, but it drags on endlessly, until finally, you’re the last one to be put up for bidding. It’s a shock when your price rockets past the others by millions. What doesn’t surprise you in the least is when a dangerous wolf hybrid steps forward to claim you. You knew, from the moment they snatched you off that street, that your life was always headed straight to hell.

When you arrive at your supposed new ‘home’, the wolf hybrid, who had you driven in a separate car from his, two golden retriever hybrids—one male and one female—greet you silently, as the wolf hybrid barks out “Get her ready, run all the tests.”

They bow nervously to him with obvious fear, muttering, “Yes, Alpha,” before leading you stumbling over your own feet away.

They scrub you clean, working the conditioner into your fur, detangling the knots that have formed over time. It ought to feel soothing, and on some level it does, but the very fact you’re being ‘prepared’ for something you can’t even begin to imagine keeps you from feeling any real sense of comfort. They run a barrage of tests—urine, blood, checking for illnesses like STDs—and though there’s some relief in knowing you’re healthy despite your malnutrition, the fear never leaves you. Your tail, now soft and groomed, curls tightly between your legs, trying its best to shield your bare chest from their prying eyes.

Once they’ve finished prodding and poking you, they dress you in clothes that fit a little too well, and when your fur is finally dry, they lead you up several floors until you reach the penthouse.

The space is shrouded in darkness, save for the twinkling lights of Busan’s cityscape outside. Every surface, from walls to ceiling, is dark and gleaming, with deep brown furniture blending into its shadows, the only touches of light come from minimal brass-coloured décor scattered sparingly around the room. The golden retrievers push you silently to the centre, where the wolf hybrid lounges lazily on a leather sofa smoking a cigar, his eyes fixed on you, never wavering. The retrievers do nothing more than bow silently and exit, leaving you alone under his cold gaze.

His stare penetrates you, inspecting every inch of your trembling body from your twitching cat ears down to your feet, while the heat from the nearby fireplace stings your fragile skin. You try to lower your gaze to the floor, hoping to escape the intensity of his, but his dark eyes pull yours back like they have their own magnetic force.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

You want to answer, you really do, but it’s as if your voice has been lost since the day you were taken, and your only response is the bristling of your tail in an instinctive attempt to protect yourself.

When it becomes clear you won’t speak, he’s not having any of it, and his voice booms, “I said, what’s your name!”

You flinch at the loud slap of his tone, a frightened hiss escaping your lips before you can stop it. His expression darkens, one eyebrow raised in irritation as his finger taps impatiently against the backrest.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you manage to whisper your name.

“Speak up,” he snaps. “I’m not a fucking feline.”

You gulp, clearing your throat as best and silently you can, and try again with a parched throat, this time just loud enough for him to catch. He nods, seemingly satisfied for now.

“Strip,” he orders after a long pause, his cold eyes locked onto yours, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The last thing you want to do is obey, but you can see the anger rising rapidly in him again, and you know better than to push your luck. Trembling, you begin to undress, feeling utterly exposed even before your clothes hit the floor. He watches you with the cold detachment of someone examining an object rather than a person, and though you’re fully naked, your tail desperately tries to cover your most private parts.

The wolf hybrid sighs heavily as he stands, exuding a casual dominance that reminds you exactly who he is. He moves around you slowly, inspecting every inch of you while you stare blankly ahead, your ears twitching nervously to follow his movements.

He stops behind you, towering over your smaller frame, and you feel his cold hands glide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders lightly before his nose brushes against your neck up to the back of your ear. He inhales deeply, and you feel your legs grow weak with a dizzying wave of fear.

“You smell divine,” he mutters to himself, though the words ring loudly in your sensitive ears. “But something’s off.”

His hands trail back down your arms, his nose following the curve of your spine, your fur standing on end as goosebumps spread across your skin. He stops at your lower back, just before your tail begins, sniffing intently before, without warning, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. You yelp in shock and pain as he spits something metallic onto the floor beside you.

“Fucking bastards,” he growls, and you know he’s right. The implant he’s just bitten out was the one messing with your hormones, suppressing your natural cycle and heats, placed methodically where you can’t reach. Though the bite stings violently and blood trickles down your legs, you feel immediate relief now that the implant is finally out.

He runs his hand back up your spine, stopping when he reaches your neck, his fingers grazing over the small burn mark where your slave number is branded into your skin. The sensation makes you shudder violently, triggering nerves that are too raw to keep you standing still, but he seems entirely unbothered by your reaction.

“Alpha…” a voice interrupts. The door opens and a crocodile hybrid strides in without so much as a knock, freezing when his eyes land on you. Instinctively, you try to back away, only to bump into the wolf hybrid behind you, making you tense even further.

The crocodile hybrid doesn’t move, his gaze fixated on you with a predatory gleam in his eye. You hear a low growl rumbling from the wolf hybrid behind you, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked close to your sensitive ear, and then a deafening shot. You flinch and scream violently, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to cover them, but the damage is already done—your ears ring painfully as you crouch down, overwhelmed by the unbearable noise, tears collecting in your lash line.

It takes a moment for your senses to return, and when they do, you realise the wolf hybrid is crouched beside you, his legs brushing yours, his hands gently rubbing your upper arms soothingly as he murmurs, “I’m sorry, kitten,” kissing against the top of your head. All while the crocodile’s body lies crumpled on the floor in a growing pool of blood nearby.

You tremble uncontrollably, paralysed by fear, your mind struggling and utterly unable to process what happened around you. But the wolf hybrid doesn’t seem to care, helping you back up to your feet, brushing your soft hair over your shoulder to reveal the burn mark once again.

You barely dare to breathe as he steps away, but when you see him take an iron rod from near the fireplace and hold it in the flames, heating it until it glows angry red-hot, memories of the previous branding flashes through your mind like an alarm. You panic, your breath coming in desperate, frantic gasps. “No, no, no…” you chant quietly, but your body is frozen in place, still paralysed by the overwhelming terror.

The wolf hybrid, unfazed to the core, pulls the rod from the fire and walks towards you. Just before the hot metal touches your skin, branding you over the old mark, you hear his voice growl behind you, cold and final, “You’re mine now.”

You scream until your ears begin to bleed, your voice tearing through your throat as you collapse onto the cold, hard floor, the world around you fading into a welcoming, merciful blackness.

masterlist • 2

a/n 3: hope you enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for this fic 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024 taglist: @jksusawife, @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @ericawantstoescape, @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok, @fluttershyvanilla

345 notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 7 months

Text

A love letter to TsukuTabe

I loved the first season of this drama, but this second season (really more of a straightforward continuation of the first season narrative, which ended unfinished) is a remarkable glow up for an already strong show. These creators did not come to play, and they had a lot to say about the experiences of women living in patriarchal cultures.

This drama tackled so many experiences that afab people go through as they try to build a life for themselves under pressure to conform to societal norms. We have so many different lived experiences of women in this show, all of whom are queer by way of falling outside the lines of what is expected of them:

Nomoto, who experiences a queer awakening, wrestles with the specifics of her sexual identity, and bravely forges ahead despite feeling pressure from her family to marry a man and procreate

Kasuga, who breaks with her family's expectations that she be a caretaker and insists on living her own life, even if she knows the culture she lives in will sometimes make it hard

Yako, who owns her asexual and lesbian identities, proudly forges a life for herself, builds community for herself and others, and advocates for that community both publicly and privately

Nagumo, who struggles to connect with others because of her eating disorder and mental health struggles and lives a solitary existence as a result, but through building bonds with other women finds the strength to begin healing

Sayama, who pushes herself to date around because she feels pressure to live up to expectations to marry, before reconsidering whether that is a goal she actually has for her life and realizing she is happy being unmarried

Fujita, who struggles through years of an unhappy marriage in which she is subjugated to her husband's family before breaking free and pursuing a divorce so she can live happily on her own

It means a lot to me to see a show that cares so deeply about these women and their stories, that gives them so much space to explore and think and communicate their feelings. And they do it all so naturally, by allowing them to form bonds with one another and figure out who they are and what they want through their relationships with each other. This story is all about how we can grow through kindness and compassion from others, and how important it is to pay that support back in kind. It's such a beautiful and unique and desperately needed message in the current media landscape.

And there's more story yet to tell! I have no idea if they will get a third season, but I will be seated for as much of this story as the creators want to make. I would love to see them tackle Nomoto and Kasuga's life as a committed couple, their coming out to their families, and the ongoing lives of the community of queer women around them, which will only continue to broaden and deepen. Like What Did You Eat Yesterday? this show could go on and on forever, and I hope it does. I have so much gratitude for all the people involved in making this show, and to @furritsubs for translating the English subtitles so that international fans could also enjoy it. And if you're seeing this and haven't watched it yet, I am telling you, it is so worth your time.

#tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #tsukutabe #japanese gl #shan shouts into the void

422 notes · View notes

archiveikemen · 1 month

Text

“Don't Look At Anyone But Me” Collection Event

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

creds. to @/kurishiri for the title translation; i decided to use theirs (w/ permission) because i feel that it's better than what i had ♡

Kate: Um… can I help you?

I made up my mind and turned around to face him.

Ring Schwartz — he was a member of Vogel, a research organisation under direct command of the German Emperor, with a goal of promoting the societal contributions of Cursed Ones.

Ring: … Why are you asking me that?

Kate: I’m curious because you’ve been following me since morning…

Although I didn’t exactly sense it or hear his footsteps, Ring’s height made it difficult for him to hide and so it was obvious he was tailing me.

Ring; Darius ordered me to investigate you.

(What. Did he just blatantly admit that he’s “investigating me”...!?)

(Is there a reason why he’s being this straightforward…?)

(In that case, I should be direct in my response too.)

Kate: What do you want to know about me?

Ring: You’ll answer if I ask?

Kate: Yes. As long as I have an answer.

Ring: I want to know… uh…

Ring: … I’ll ask Darius about it later.

Kate: O-okay… got it.

(Looks like Ring is absolutely obedient to Darius’ orders…)

Kate: Do you plan to continue following me after this?

Ring: Yeah.

(What should I do… oh, that’s right!)

Kate: In that case, please make sure you don't leave my side!

Ring: …?

I smiled at the idea I had in mind, and Ring cocked his head in confusion.

…

Kate: I had something I wanted to buy, but all the members of Crown are busy today…

Kate: I was able to get permission to go outside today because you’re coming along, so you were a big help!

Ring: You used my investigation to your advantage… not bad.

Ring: … Also, the fact that an escort is necessary for you shows that you’re someone rather important.

(It’s actually because I’m under surveillance by Crown, but… I don’t have to tell him that.)

Kate: I should do something to thank you for going shopping with me.

Ring: … Then stop addressing me as “Ring-san”. It’s uncomfortable.*

Kate: … Shall I address you as “Ring-kun”, then?*

* For consistency's sake, I'll drop the honorifics as I always do in my IkeVil translations.

Ring: I don’t mind. That’s fine.

(He says he’s fine with it…)

(He’s wary of me one moment, and the next thing I know he's allowing me to address him in a more friendly manner… Ring’s a mysterious one.)

While I was distracted by Ring, I accidentally bumped into a man passing by.

Boorish Man: Ah!? Watch where you’re walkin’!

Kate: I-I’m sorry! I’ll be more careful.

Boorish Man: Pay for my medical bill. If ya ain’t got money… I don’t mind if ya pay with yer body.

The moment the man sneered and reached out to grab my arm—

Ring: I was ordered not to cause trouble in public. … Let’s escape.

Ring grabbed my arm and started running.

…

Boorish Man: Where did she go!? I won’t let her escape!

Kate: Ah… it’s a dead end.

Ring: Hide here.

Ring pushed me into the storage shed of a nearby private residence before slipping in.

The shed wasn’t very spacious, so the two of us were crammed together.

Ring: Hold your breath until he leaves.

Kate: O-okay…

The sounds of Ring’s breathing and heartbeat were especially loud in the silence.

Seemingly having felt the same way, Ring spoke up to break the awkward tension.

Ring: T-there's something I want to ask… um… what’s this smell coming from you?

Kate: I didn’t put on any fragrance today, so I don’t think I smell like anything in particular…

Ring: Is that so…

Ring: … Then this must be your natural scent.

Kate: Oh, I’m so sorry. I must be reeking of sweat from all that running.

Ring: Y-you don’t! It’s a dizzying, pleasant scent… I just wanted to know what it was….

Ring: I like this scent much, I want to keep smelling it forev—...

Kate: …

Ring: … [shocked]

Ring: Oh, uh…! … My bad. That was a weird thing to say.

Ring: Uhh, umm…

Ring: Hm…? What’s this over here? Is this something from inside this shed?

Ring: It’s very soft when I poke it with my finger… it feels nice to touch.

Kate: T-that’s….

Kate: My… breast…

Ring: …………… breast.

Kate: S-sorry. It’s too cramped here and we ended up touching…

Ring: …………… ah.

Ring: WAAAHHHHHH!!

With a yell that sounded almost like a distressed cry, Ring jumped out of the shed.

Afterwards, I heard a loud thud as though something was hit, followed by complete silence.

(W-what just happened…?)

Cautiously, I stepped out of the shed—

— I saw Ring sheath his sword, and the man who had been chasing me laid unconscious on the ground.

Kate: Um…

Ring: … I didn't kill him. Only knocked him out with the hilt.

(Amazing. He knocked the guy out in an instant…)

Ring: Damn, had I known that sort of thing would happen, I would've done this sooner.

(“That sort of thing”... he’s referring to accidentally touching my breast, right?)

Kate: I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.

Rings Uncomfortable…? No, it wasn't uncomfortable.

Ring: If anything, it felt goo—...

Kate: …?

Ring: N-n-no-nothing! It was an accident… sorry. F-forget whatever happened just now!

Ring: I’ll also… um… try hard to forget everything. I’ll try my best not to think about it… um.

Kate: O-okay…

(Perhaps… Ring isn’t a scary person at all, unlike my first impression of him.)

…

Darius: Welcome back, Ring. How did investigating the robin go?

Ring: Yeah… I’ll report my findings.

Ring: She… smells so nice that it makes my head spin.

Darius: … Huh?

Ring: Her chest— not just that, her whole body is completely different from a man's! It’s so soft and fluffy…

Nika: …

Ring: Also… she possesses the ability to have a tight grip on a person’s heart.

Ring: Being together with her makes my heart race… that must be the kind of curse she has!

Darius: … I see? So she’s a possessor of such a terrifying power.

Darius: I was thinking of having you continue investigating her for some time, but now it seems that she might be too much for you to handle—

Ring: No, it's dangerous for you and Nica to go near her. She might make your heart race so fast that it stops beating.

Ring: I want to continue investigating her for a while because it’s too dangerous.

Darius: Your strong sense of responsibility is praiseworthy, Ring. Alright, I’ll leave it to you.

Ring: Yeah. I’ll most definitely defeat this ability of hers.

Ring left the room.

Darius and Nica looked at each other.

Nica: … Pfft, AHAHAHAHA!

Nica: *sigh*... my younger brother is so adorable, isn’t he? I had a hard time holding back my laughter until he left the room.

Nica: By the way… can I share my thoughts on why you let Ring be the one to investigate the robin?

Nica: The robin was the most wary of Ring’s tough attitude, so it’d make things easier for us if she lets her guard down sooner.

Nica: And if luck is on our side, Ring and the robin will get closer, and… oops, is it not part of the plan to reach that point?

Darius: …

Nica: What if Ring ends up falling in love with the robin?

Darius: That won’t happen.

Darius: After all… it’s said that puppy love never works out, you know?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikevil translations #otome #ikevil collection event #ring schwartz

292 notes · View notes

jude-duarte-wannabe · 24 days

Note

Good day! I’m looking for Carlos Sainz go take me order if that’s ok? Could I have a extra sweetness with the brownies and possibly please a side of angel food cake? And I’d love some tonic water on the side please 💗

Thank you!

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, so as soon as i saw this an idea immediately popped into my head and as requested i made your order extra sweet <3 your requested prompts will be bolded and i once again couldn't stop myself from adding the victoria sponge prompt, with stories like these the idea of the victoria sponge prompt makes me all giggly and warm <3

pairing; carlos sainz x younger girlfriend reader

blurb; you've had a lot of bad relationships in the past, ones you've never fully recovered from so when your older boyfriend wants to try something new in the sex department you can't help but feel nervous but don't worry darling, soft boyfriend carlos is here to help.

warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, google translated spanish, fingering, a speck of spitting and soft!dom!carlos [let me know if i missed anything]

dulce chico; sweet boy angelito; little angel

tonic water; age gap [carlos is 30 and reader is 23] brownie; "no fucking touching" angel food cake; "did you just squirt, since when could you do that" victoria sponge; "you wanna hold my hand"

currently playing; water by tyla "make me sweat, make me hotter, make me lose my breath, make me water"

"i don't know carlos" you mumbled from your position on the sofa beside him, he had asked you if he could try something new and while it's not like you didn't trust him because you did, you trusted him with your life but what he was suggesting you'd tried before and gotten shamed for it by previous partners but they had all been boys, carlos however was a man and one who knew how to take care of you like the goddess you were.

he practically worshiped the very ground you walked on, people all asked why you were with someone older than you and your answer was simply "he treats me right" and when they asked how you met.. well you could remember that moment in your life pretty vividly.

you had ended up meeting in the most meet cute way you could ever imagine, you'd been on a vacation with your family in madrid, your parents had been wanting to go back ever since their honeymoon 24 years ago.

you'd stopped at a farmers market close to your hotel to pick up some flowers for your parents wedding anniversary when you'd run, literally into carlos who'd been wandering the markets with his mother while on a quick visit home, while you had kept apologizing profusely, carlos simply couldn't take his eyes off you in your little pink plaid skirt and lacy white tank, you looked so soft and sweet and innocent, fuck did he love it.

you'd offered to buy him a coffee or even a pastry of some kind to make up for running into him and he'd said yes mainly just to be near you, to get to know you and that's how you found yourself wandering around the market nibbling on pastries while you chatted away with carlos, it seemed innocent enough, at least that's what you thought.

he'd ask to see you again sometime and you'd agreed thinking that he would make a great friend for while you were in madrid.

but when carlos first started to show an interest in you that was more than platonic after only knowing you a few weeks, you ignored him like the plague, he was just another guy capable of destroying you more than you already had been by the multiple exes in your past.

what made it even more nerve wracking was the fact he was older than you and not by much, at least that's what you thought. carlos on the other hand couldn't stay away and didn't get why you were ignoring him.

meeting you changed his life for the better and having to go a day without hearing you giggle or call him merely just say good morning was killing him.

at least it was until your sister who had met him randomly when you were out together and had decided to meet up with carlos, had explained everything to him, the trauma you'd gone through at the hands of your ex boyfriends, he could understand why you were scared of his advances now.

after a little convincing by your sister and little begging from carlos, he finally got you to agree to a date, he had promised to go slow and treat like every women deserved to be treated, the man worshiped the very ground you walked on after all for christ sakes.

you had kept in touch after leaving spain and when you felt ready you traveled back to madrid to spend time with him and you just never left.

and so here you were a year later, happier than you've ever been in any of your previous relationships and sure you'd been intimate with carlos before but what he was asking now made you nervous, he asked to eat you out saying that you looked so sweet just sitting next him reading and that's what lead to the current situation that you were in "what do you mean you don't know" he asked.

his question had you fidgeting but as always carlos was there to comfort you, placing his hand on your thigh "no fucking touching" you snapped before feeling bad and so you mumbled "please" you pushed his hand off your leg "i need to think and i can't do that with hands on me, your very distracting" you explained with a soft laugh, it just made carlos smile but then said smile faded at another thought.

"why don't you want to.. do you not trust me" he seemed worried and your hand immediately went to his arm "no dulce chico, i trust you it's just the last person i let down there... they didn't ask, i asked them and i was told i was gross and that no man ever does it willingly"

oh now carlos was angry, he couldn't believe that one of your old boyfriends had said that to you "no baby, it's not gross.. i want to make you feel good" his hand went back to your thigh, rubbing small circles on the skin there, carlos noticed you wriggle around and squeeze your legs closer together, your slight very quiet whimper had him raising his eyebrows while he smiled "is the idea of this turning you on angelito"

"maybe" you murmured, your hand taking hold of his own, tangling your fingers together to ground yourself as you sat there thinking and after a few minutes, you'd finally decided "alright you know what.. lets... lets try it" you told him and the way carlos pounced on you then made you giggle.

he moved you onto your back while you kept laughing at his eagerness, he placed a sloppy kiss to your lips before laying himself down in between your legs, fingers moving your underwear to the side quickly before pushing your sweet little skirt over your hips and wrapping his arms over your waist, placing sweet little kisses to the skin of your thigh making you squirm even more.

"carlos.. don't tease me" you whimpered making him chuckle against your thigh "patient angelito" he gently kissed at your folds, groaning at the taste of you on his lips before diving straight in, licking at your juices like a man starved.

"gross my fucking ass.. you taste so perfect.. like honey" he mumbled as his tongue slipped inside you slurping up all the juices that slipped from your aching hole.

the new feelings you were experiencing were euphoric and you just couldn't seem to keep your head on straight no matter what you did, you gripped at the couch cushions and even carlos's hair.

so as a last resort you reached for his fingers that rested on your stomach, when he felt your hand brush his own carlos couldn't help smile against your folds as he pulled away for just a second "you wanna hold my hand" you merely nodded, your other hand gripping out the couch cushion above your head.

carlos couldn't get enough of the way you looked right now with flushed cheeks and your chest rising and falling as you panted in excitement.

he tangled his fingers with yours before going back to work, bringing his thumb to your clit to rub little circles as he licked and sucked at your sweet pussy.

carlos continued like this for a while, listening to you moan blissfully above him, if carlos could describe heaven it would be this, this moment right here with his face buried in your cunt licking at you while you made such beautiful noises, your hands holding onto eachothers, a symbol of your connection and love for each other, after a while he pulled away to kitten lick at your clit and he slipped his fingers inside your tight cunt, feeling you clench around his fingers "jesus angelito... so tight"

your hips started to rut against carlos's hand, causing them to push deeper and deeper in and then you squealed as a sparks zipped up your spine "what the fuck was that" you asked as your breathing calmed down"your g spot" carlos chuckled and hit it again as his fingers kept thrusting in and out at a fast pace and so you kept squealing.

it wasn't long before your gripped carlos's hand a little too tight as you tumbled over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a truck.

as your breathing calmed down, you sat up slightly to look at carlos, hand still clutched in his, carlos just lay frozen between your legs face wet "you alright baby" you asked and he just chuckled "did you just squirt, since when could you do that"

you stared at him surprised, you had done what? "i did what now?"

to say that you were both surprised was an understatement but when carlos scampered up your body, you giggled at his excitement "i wanna make you do it again" he said, voice shaky and you smiled softly at him

"go on then baby.. make me water" you giggled, hands cupping his face, god he was adorable, this was perfect, this moment, this relationship.. you'd never been happier than this and you hoped that it would never ever end mostly because you had never felt safer than you did right now while wrapped up in carlos strong arms.

#carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x female reader

167 notes · View notes

marichild · 1 month

Text

satosugu fics i entreat everyone to read

these are just some of the amazing fics I’ve read! I highly recommend every single one to my fellow satosugu lovers. you won’t regret it, I promise.

Carry Me Home by @valleykey [58.4k, completed, T]

The boy shifts on his feet. “The year is two thousand and eighteen? Common Era?” Slowly, smile still plastic on his face, Suguru faces Satoru. This fucking dumbass. “Satoru,” he says, dangerous edge to his voice, “what did you do?” Satoru makes some bastardization of a sound, half between a laugh and a cough. “...Whoops?” “I,” Suguru grits, pinching two fingers together, “am this close to mass murder.” He’s joking. Probably. ///OR: Shortly before Geto would have massacred a village, he and Gojo are thrust eleven years forward into a would-have-been future that Geto is conspicuously absent from.

愛のある場所; river of light (that brings me to you) by @yuzudetergent [66.8k, completed, T]

A lesson in love is a lesson in swimming. Except for Suguru, it's getting dropped into the deep end with the tide licking at his neck, no kickboard or life preserver keeping him afloat. (Or: This is how Satoru finds the ocean.)

achilles, only the dead stay seventeen forever by getou_suguru (dheiress) [7.9k, ongoing, T]

He looks like a little kid, insouciant and irreverent, smiling at you like that. This is how you want to remember him. “Winter snow melts into Spring, of course!” You open your mouth to laugh and laugh and laugh and— His breath tastes, inexplicably, like spun sugar and honey on your tongue. (Gojou Satoru is not a God, not yet. But He will be and you think (you know) that you will be the first to kneel in worship and offer Him your blood, your flesh. Build Him a temple inside the circle of your arms until He sinks inside your ribcage, there to dwell safe and sound and beating just for you.) ((Pay attention, now. This is a story about how a boy—the Hallowed one, the enlightenment of all, the one who rose high above others, the one and only—fell.))

Always an Angel (Never a God) by 0atmlk [44.6k, ongoing, M]

"The first time I saw the sunset here, I wanted to send you a picture." Suguru looked at him, surprised. "Why didn't you?" "Because I knew you’d been here before on your own, it was probably something you'd seen plenty of times." Satoru paused. "But I almost did. Opened it and everything to send to you. Then I saw the date of the last message you sent. We were pushing year three. So I didn't." . . . Suguru finds Satoru at fifteen. Satoru finds him at twenty-eight.

I’m Sorry: In Various Translations by @koifishscribbles [45.9k, ongoing, M]

The coffee in Satoru’s stomach curdles. He feels the weight of every one if those eight years roll through his entire body like an earthquake. All the missed sleep clings to his eyes, and the unsent texts threaten to erupt from his mouth. Getou Suguru. It is not that his stitches unravel. Those took years to craft, cinched with vitriol, and won’t be undone in a single moment. It’s his very being that unspools onto the dirty linoleum floor. He wants Suguru to pick him up and untangle the length of him. His fingers once again becoming familiar as they expertly craft him into something new, better. —— Gojo Satoru has not seen his ex, Getou Suguru, since college. Until he shows up one day teaching in the classroom across the hall from him.

an anthology of bad ideas by ilovegetosuguru [9.5k, completed, gen]

Gojo panics and asks a very attractive stranger to be his fake boyfriend for a wedding. Here’s the problem — there’s no wedding. (Fake Dating AU)

april pink by @valleykey [3k, completed, gen]

“Dude,” Satoru says, first thing off the train, glasses sliding down, wide eyes peering over the rim, “you have, like, flowers. In your lungs.” “Oh really,” Suguru says, dry, “I hadn't noticed.”

Puppet On A String by @killjoyproductions [6.8k, completed, E]

“Huh,” he muses. “Are you… saving yourself for marriage?” “Nope.” “Are you asexual?” Satoru shakes his head. “I’m not asexual, just a virgin.”

Autonomic Breath by finalproject [10.9k, completed, E]

She turns to Satoru and asks, "When did you know?"

Lies That Bind by Anonymous [48.1k, ongoing, E]

“Really now,” Gakuganji snorted, doubtful. “How convenient. Who is this alpha, then?” And of course, Satoru had seen that question coming as soon as his claim of having a mate was halfway out of his mouth, but by that point he was already talking and it was too late to stop. “So nosy.” He wagged his finger in a tut-tut motion in the geezer’s face, watching him turn a horrible shade of angry red. “It’s Geto Suguru, of course.” Satoru's sick and tired of all the higher-ups insisting he needs to find an alpha and settle down just because he's an omega, and the simple lie that Suguru is his mate seems like the easiest way to get some peace and quiet. What could go wrong?

like the tides, never standing still. by antepuer [1.1k, completed, T]

“I fucking hate it sometimes.” Suguru taps the ash off and looks at him. Puppy-dog eyes, has no idea what Satoru refers to, but it would be far from the first time. “What do you mean?” “Being queer.” He finally admits. “It fucking sucks.”

once we have sufficiently tortured one another by irrevenance [4.6k, completed, E]

Suguru’s throat goes dry. “You’re no longer a sorcerer,” he realizes, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat in response to the sick joke that has laid itself before him. “And you came to me?” “Yes,” Satoru says pleasantly. “What will you do about it,” and here he lowers both his eyelashes and his tone, a mockery of seduction, “Getou-sama?”

the dream house by irrevenance [6.1k, completed, E]

Suguru adopts two little girls, marries Satoru, and becomes a teacher. It’s not enough.

where shall we go tomorrow? by elivellichor [15k, ongoing, T]

“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck do you want from me?” a raspy voice hisses, breath on the shell of his ear, knocking Suguru out of his daze. Suguru tilts his chin up to better meet his pursuit face to face and goes breathless. Enraged and fiery cerulean eyes stare down at him with a twisted expression. This child is undeniably Gojo Satoru. He can’t imagine any other with a disposition so fiery and confrontational. Or: an indulgent age-regression fic featuring One (1) Baby Gojo Satoru and One (1) Very Tired Geto Suguru feat. healing <3

Caesura by @cielelyse [85.5k, completed, M]

The first time they meet, Suguru and Satoru do not like each other. Arrogant, cocky, insufferable, they think. Despite the smirks Shoko gives Suguru, or the sighs Yaga gives Satoru, they do not like each other. Until a mission changes that.

it's not gay unless the domains touch by @hollow-lime-green [40.2k, completed, E]

Funny thing is, when you put up walls made of infinity, you don’t expect people to start slipping in. And you certainly don’t expect to start wanting them to. Gojo Satoru never had a chance to get used to people touching him. Suguru gets that, and he’s happy to help. That’s what good friends do, right? Alternatively: Geto Suguru is the most oblivious man alive.

two sorcerers chillin' in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they’re not gay) by @hollow-lime-green

Geto Suguru has almost two decades of practice pretending not to see things that are clearly there, and Gojo Satoru has a well-documented history of being the most socially-stunted motherfucker alive. That’s how they got here. That’s also why neither of them know where the hell they’re going with this.

BONUS! Baby Mine by @seaemberthesecond

There was something just slightly off in every interaction between Gojo-sensei and Fushiguro and once Yuji’d begun to notice it, he couldn’t unsee it. It wasn’t a bad kind of off – at least he didn’t think so – but it was just different from the way either of them acted around everyone else. * Or, Yuji's journey to discovering that Megumi is Gojo's baby boy, featuring: an insane amount of simping, the mundane indignities of being a parent, and a lot of Yuji snooping in places he really shouldn't be.

(aka, that fic I go back to all the time. gojo being megumi’s dad will never not be one of my favorite things ever.) (clearly)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #fanfiction #fanfic rec #ao3 rec #ao3 #satosugu #sugusato #gojo satoru #geto suguru #gego #satosugu fanfic

175 notes · View notes

pearl-tarotist · 1 year

Text

* ༺ Your beauty ༻ *

In this tarot reading I will describe the beauty that you have and I will mixed it with some poems, things, feelings and situations that remind me of you.

Disclaimer: I do not consider beauty only as physical attributes.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes...

PILE 1

Dear Pile 1,

Your beauty is sweeping and easily strikes the eyes of others at first glance. Your presence is strong as a furious river, people enjoy the scene and they are in awe at it. But the strength that the river has dissolves when they try to cage the water.

Your beauty is natural and pure as the liquid that gives us life; it cannot be replicated or forced at the will of others, it just comes from you, your presence and your soul. It's not the material but the energy that shapes it.

You are passionate, energetic and pure, what in the words of Sylvia Plath would be translated as “I am too pure for you or anyone", from the poem "Fever 103°.

In the same way as the damsel in distress when sad or overwhelmed, you hide yourself in the highest tower or in the lowest cave. Your beauty can just be encased by your own hand...and you do. Your fear that the show of your real self to the world will end in a lose of stability. You hide because you feel that showing your true nature and sweet but passionate soul will destroy your own world and the relationship that you have with others.

You hide under the presence of a basic person, fashion-like or behaviourally-like, but you beauty shines in the unconsciously curves of your cheeks and lips. There's something pleasuring and round about your lips that make your words sweeter and gentler than average. There's something about your back and position that could be beautiful too, stand straight and let other see you.

Your passionate and in that passion you are sweet and cute, just like the childish heroine of a story that never gives up.

Long legs, baby-like face, pouty lips, soft skin, limitless strength, adventures that you want to live and the passion when you speak half-baked of them. I'm not going to lie, for some, your beauty resides in your bad states, when they can take care of you as if you were something to fix or defend, but I do not think that's your beauty but what others find themselves attracted to.

Your beauty is not equalled to their attraction.

Stuff that reminds me of your beauty:

A Poem: My head a moon /Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin / Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive. (Poem fever 103).

The flowing of a mighty river surrounded by grass.

The shaking pale hand of someone that has fought and won.

The elegant makeup of the Geishas.

The warm caresses of a loved one.

Knight of wands/5oW/The Chariot/10oC/5oP/4oS

PILE 2

Dear Pile 2,

You get things done. You are full and complete on your own, independent and capable. There's nothing that you can not resolve, you are efficient, strong and powerful. A scopio, pluto dominant or 8th house energy on your natal chart?

You are so beautiful on your own, so successful and victorious. Your willpower and your resistance towards adversity have created the most polished part of yourself, just like a diamond. If I have to be honest, it's not just your resistance but also your search of fights for truth and new adventures. The need to discover new things.

You are openminded and know that with a simple and small discovery, the perception of your reality can change in seconds, that's why, often, you feel that you do not belong to places or "homes" but that you are your own home. Your ideas and mental world is the only place you should be comfortable with.

There's also a characteristic of foreigner to your beauty, you could travel a lot or be "exotic" to others, in the sense of being different from them, physically and mentally. You are not a copy of the current societies but a mix of everything (past, present and future) and that's why others are intrigued by you, they want to learn about this composition. I would bet for a little bit of aquarius is in your natal chart, I guess.

You are clever and curios about everything what makes other being intrigued by you as they do not know what to expect. They can not tag you in one social group, you are way more than just that.

You do things with security, your hands do not shake in front of others and I would say that you are also quite social as you want to learn about everything, like a bee that goes from flower to flower, you go from person to person.

Piercing eyes, beautiful eyebrows, a nice chest, some of you could have a voluptuous body, an accent when speaking, and knowledge that extends for miles.

Stuff that reminds me of your beauty:

The sword of Arthur Pendragon, Excalibur.

The satisfaction after a job well-done.

The mist of the forest before the faes appear.

“For she had eyes and chose me.” (William Shakespeare, Othello)

"fuck it I love you" by Lana del Rey.

The World/ The Chariot/ The Fool/ Knight and king of Wands/ King of Swords

PILE 3

Dear Pile 3,

I fear that some of you are unable to see your own beauty. The cards that I got are unpeaceful and represent fights and loses.

Nevertheless, let's start with the reading. Your beauty is different from the rest, I like the way that you do not want to be exactly like the others. I applause you for not following the trends, the viral products and the fast-clothing industry. Your best quality is the uniqueness and respect for your natural state. Somehow, I believe that this is also one point of hurt for you, because you are not like the others, so you feel less...but, in my opinion, it lifts you higher than others.

To have an opinion of your own under a society that push us more often to have a single mindset is of respect and admiration.

Following the last idea, you are someone with spark, with cleverness, someone that has great ideas and potential that you can develop endlessly. You are a pool of ideas full of different points of views that need growing and development, a little bit of Gemini/ Sagittarius energy on your natal chart, no?

These ideas are not developed to the end, I think you jump around and start a lot of ideas that do not end up in a solid project, but that does not stop you from enjoying it nevertheless. I feel that there's two types of people: the ones that focus on just one thing and the ones that know a bit about everything. You are the second one, and in it resides your beauty.

Curious, fighter, powerful, with potential and creativity. Soft and uniform skin, probably short height but with a good posture, hands that are warm and search for the touch of others, lover of animals, young but wise. You may decorate your hair with caps, bows or similar. That's your beauty.

Stuff that remind me of your beauty:

Jeanne d'arc - Albert Lynch

The soft fur of animals like a horse or a deer.

The coldness of a knife close to the neck of the main character carried by their "enemy". (Enemy to lovers AU fr).

The endless routine of the sun (sunrise and sunset).

The smell of an old book.

5oS/2oW/The Tower/ 8oS/7oW/Page of Pentacles

This reading belongs in exclusivity to @pearl-tarotist.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #love tarot #tarot reading #pac tarot #pick an image #pick a picture #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #pearl #self tarot #magik #beauty tarot #atractivenes tarot

2K notes · View notes

noodles-doodles01 · 1 month

Text

Some Gravity Falls Stuff I Found

A lot of this could already be known, but I'm having fun and its a way to keep track. All is from thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com

So for computer passwords:

Dipper- a letter from Bill (his handwriting + he calls him Pine Tree) telling dipper to stare into the sun

Mabel- Places stickers all over the lab until the screen says "lab fully Mabelized"

Stanford/Sixer- Gives a Medical report on Ford's hand taken at 18, the report censors the mention of kidnapping him for cloning

Stanley- eBay for brass knuckles

MatPat- a video of MatPat saying "hello internet, this time, you're on your own"

Cipher/Bill Cipher- Eye of Providence Wiki

Bill- Sesame Street Video

Wendy- A letter from Wendy saying that she wrote a way to ward off evil triangles at the bottom right of the book (I have two ideas for what this could be), also a 👌 drawn in the bottom right corner upside down.

Blind Eye- A seeing eye test that repeats the letters WKHBOOVHH (anagram maybe?) with a colour code at the bottom (I'll include this later in this post)

Robbie- Shows messenger messages between Robbie and Thompson. Thompson seems to be getting real tired of the bullying (He wrote out "If you keep insulting me one of these days I-" and then highlights it as if he's about to delete it, followed by Yea :(). They discuss going to a site to see Bill, and later freak out about seeing him and knowing how they both die (Thompson gets mistaken for luggage and Robbie chokes on a mini skateboard). The end is this photo with Bill in the background:

Pacifica- A letter from Pacifica herself warning against Bill, saying that she dumped old Tapestries with triangles on it off a yacht with an unnamed friend. She seems to be super uncomfy about mentioning who the friend is (Dipper maybe?). She ends the letter saying that you should follow her on Platinum Paz

Platinum Paz: Details a story of Pacifica having a nightmare about blood being on her hands and everywhere. She then has a conversation with a statue of Nathaniel NW, who asks about her anger. She tells him everything was better before the Pines' came to town, and he says he will help her if she does something for him: go to the Pines' place and grab a small snowglobe that's new (the rift). He is about to shake her hand before she stops and wakes up. She then adds Dipper's number to her phone and sleeps well. Most likely what leads to the tapestries being thrown off a yacht.

Oneeyedking: a hypnosis tape where there is morse code in the background while Bill says "you want to sell your soul to Bill Cipher" three times. I didn't do this but the morse code gives a series of letters (explained below)

If you spam Stanley: you are a taken to something called “the Wheel of Shame” and it is Bill explaining that he knows all of Stan’s shames since he was in his head. They are listed as follows: Ex Wives, Fears, Secret Shames, Unreported Crimes, Stan’s Failed Products, Lowest Moments, Darkest Thought (pin all crimes on Soos), and How Stan Beat Me (He didn’t! I’M STILL HERE SUCKER)

Now for Codes:

When you click on the book of Bill, there is a letter from Ford to Dipper warning against the book. On the last page at the bottom right corner, this code is seen (this is what I thought Wendy might mean):

I tried all the existing codexes, but they didn't work. Until I typed MASON into the compuer (Dipper's acc name), which gives a sheet where Dipper talks about learning how to make codes. Ford's writing comes in at the end, and the words CRYPTOGRAM CODEX are capitalized at the end. When that was input into the computer, a folder file was downloaded and gave me multiple codes.

I used CypherFontA and flipped the message on the Vertical Axis and reversed the message to get: PER ASPERA AD ASTRA, which means "through suffering to the stars" in Latin

There is another hidden code on the candle, visible through the lightning, and it uses the Runes codex, translating to CURSED. When input into the computer, you get this "Just Say No" campaign poster against drawing triangles (RAD), the words Cool and Parties are both randomly capitalized in this speech bubble from Nancy Reagan (not applicable to the passwords tho)

Carved into the wall (visible when lightling strikes) on the left is the Latin phrase "VALLIS CINERIS", which translates to "valley of ashes", you get this image and a creepy voice that says "why did you do it?" (a reference to bill destroying his home dimension)

The morse code spells out NAITSUAF, and when input to the computer, gives an offer to sell your soul. At the bottom is a button that asks are you ready, when you click on it, it shows a contract that has the following code on it

This is also a codex given in the previously mentioned codex file, and it is the theraprism file. It states: "YOU ARE NOW TWENTY ONE GRAMS LIGHTER"

Below the theraprism is more CipherFontA code, which I have not fully completed but seems to list out the terms of the contract. However, I noticed these rectangles near the words and am wondering if it means to take the letter closest to it or if it is a period. I am too lazy to work it all out rn so feel free to lmk what that all says :)

When you sign the contract, it says "pleasure doing business with you" and the flame on the candle is now blue. When you mess with the toggle on the computer, you get a backwards audio message in the same creepy voice as the Vallis Cineris code. When reversed, the audio says: " Someone help, the murderer’s name is Bill”

The prism that sits beside the computer has a code with the following symbols: #?&&!, which reads out as SORRY (this code is in the Book of Bill). When you input that into the computer, you get an image of college Ford and McGucket :(

That’s all I have for now! Feel free to reblog with anything else you might have found! I know of a ton more but I didn’t include them since this post would NEVER end.

#gravity falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #book of bill #bill cipher #stan pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #alex hirsch #billford #the book of bill #matpat #thisisnotawebsitedotcom

191 notes · View notes

ktficworld · 5 months

Text

Behind The Red Curtains

Pairing: soft dark! Steve Rogers x actress! reader

Summary: You come to know that your success might not be solely because of your talent.

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, forced relationship, bondage, size kink, degradation + praise kink, choking, oral(f receiving ), unprotected sex( it's fiction, your life's not), dirty talk, explicit language, explicit sexual content.

(Let me know if I forgot something)

Prompt: Oral sex, overstimulation, praise, Mob au, Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

A/N: So, this is my entry for the cum together extravaganza hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18

I wanted to write this for a long time after the provocation by @biteofcherry 👀. I hope you all enjoy and this is my first time writing smut so, be gentle.

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Main masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

“Johnny Storm was seen with the new sensation in the modelling industry yesterday night. Rumor has it-”

You pressed the switch-off button with more force than needed as the squeaky voice of the anchor finally died down. Throwing the remote across the bed, you groaned in agitation.

You were dating Johnny Storm. Everything was going well, the meeting was story worthy, he was handsome, charming and had some good qualities you were looking for. This was the first relationship you got into since entering the film industry. Because you may be a hopeless romantic, but you were also choosy.

You didn’t know what happened in the process that just torpedoed your budding relationship. One day you were walking out of a cafe hand-in-hand and the next day, he was fucking some modelling sensation. Maybe you got lost in translation.

Or maybe he was just a fucking asshole. No matter what happened it showed you his true colors. That or instead of coming to you to talk out his issues, he went around, fucking and ghosted you.

Oh, but that was not the problem. The real problem was that you were shooting a movie with him. A romantic movie, with sex scenes. And you have no idea how you would be able to show any affection or chemistry on the screen without being awkward as fuck. This would be the best test of your acting skills for sure.

“Why do you look like you regret being born?” your friend and manager, Wanda asked as she entered your room.

You glanced at her and rolled your eyes. She was trying to lighten your melancholic mood but, it was of no use. “You know damn well why.”

She sighed. “I know, but you’re a great actress. You could easily pull off a serial killer then a rom-com is nothing for you. Don’t get worked up about it. Just imagine your celebrity crush instead.”

You laughed at that. You worked with people whom the masses considered celebrity and if you had a crush, you’d simply ask them out. So, you’re stuck in that department.

“I appreciate your support and I’ll get over this. Just give me some time. Is that why you came here?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “No, actually the PR guy told me to tell you to go to partage restaurant. Someone wants to meet you.”

You frowned. “You know if I started giving time to ‘someones’ then I won’t even be able to breathe. I need the specifics.”

“He didn’t tell me. Said the person didn’t want to be known till you meet them. But he said you need to go or they’ll be pissed and it could pose a problem to your career.”

Some rich asshole again. You pinched your nose in frustration. People really glamorised a celeb’s life but if they knew that you all have to play rich people’s puppets, they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about it.

“Fine, I’ll go. What time and day?”

“8 p.m Sunday.”

“Great. Now get lost, I need my beauty sleep.”

Your heels clicked on the floor as you stepped inside the restaurant to utter silence.

The usually bustling restaurant was deserted. There was no violin swimming in the air, mingling with the chatter of the expensive people, the polished tables had no spilled drinks and the fine plates had no leftovers. The lobby had no sight of a reception and all the staff had evaporated out of existence. You were half doubting yourself that maybe you arrived at the wrong time or date. Maybe the restaurant was closed.

But all of them vanished when a prim and proper lady approached you. You had never seen her before but you didn’t care to ask if she was new.

“Good evening, ma’am, you may go to the VIP area upstairs. Sir is waiting for you there.” She said in a professional voice.

“Yeah, sure. But can I ask why the restaurant is empty?”

“He booked the entire restaurant.” She said like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was not like this place costed more than the top-paying actors in the Hollywood.

You thanked the woman with a polite smile you went upstairs to get to the VIP section.

The he made you shudder from inside. Another sleazy old man who thought that you would open your legs for him just because he was rich was awaiting you and judging by the stunt he pulled. You’d have to be more tactful.

Reaching the shiny golden doors with a lion emblem, separating the demi-gods from the gods, you knocked on the door of the VIP room.

“Come in.” A thick and deep voice called out, making you frown. How come an old man has such a great voice?

Oh, but how wrong you were. Because, as soon as you opened the door, in front of you, sat a man who was far from aged. He was pure muscles. His rings sparkled in the chandelier lights. Draped in the finest black suit with his blonde hair combed back, sat none other than Steve Rogers, the mafia lord of New York. The one who you have been trying to avoid your entire career. Who posed as a successful businessman but everyone was aware of how he earned his dollars. Just, they were too afraid to acknowledge it.

You couldn’t move an inch, frozen from fear and surprise. You had only met him once, during the premiere of your debut film and people had acted like he wasn’t someone who could wipe them off from the face of the earth without even blinking an eye. That night, his eyes were glued to you like Hades's gaze on Persephone. So intense and consuming that you never wanted to see him again.

And now, here you were.

“Sit down, darling.” He husked out, the sound of alcohol filling his glass reverberating through the walls.

Breaking out of your trance with a gulp. You pulled out the chair and sat down across from him while your heart was in your throat. “Good evening, Mr. Rogers. What brings me the pleasure of your company.’ You managed to get out without your voice cracking.

He smirked and leaned back on his chair. “It’s your beauty, your talent and your creativity that brings you here, sweetheart. I’m a big fan of art and beautiful things, you are both of them.”

“Thank you…” You drawl out, expecting him to continue.

“I liked you the moment I saw you. In your pink dress, you looked so innocent, so shy. Overwhelmed by the media attention. I knew you would do something big so I gave you the freedom to shine and shine you did. However, it looks like your freedom has got to your head.” The last sentence was said with a lower voice and an ominous smile.

Your hands became sweaty as they clamped down on the armrest. “I’m not getting what you are trying to say.” You whispered out.

His chuckle only made your heartbeat faster as he leaned forward and his gaze bore into your soul. “Let me rephrase, I claimed you the moment I saw you. But I knew you had potential so I let you go but your little dance with Johnny Storm made me realise it was time you became mine.”

“What-what did you do?” You choked out but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.

You yelped as he yanked your chair closer towards him till your knees were touching. Your chest moved rapidly as he leaned closer, his hands covering yours on the armrest.

“Awww, don’t play stupid, honey. Johnny, he’s a himbo and you are mine,” He said as his left hand moved to caress your cheek as you flinched away from his touch. “So, I pulled some strings, fed some mouths with dollars and your cute little on-set romance came to an end.” Your eyes widened in horror as he was the one that ended your relationship with Johnny.

He gripped your face in his big hand and turned your head so that his eyes burned through yours. “Trust me, honey, I was generous with him. I could have him disappear and no one would have given a shit.”

“No.” You whispered, wrenching his hands away. You suddenly stood up from your chair, effectively surprising him.

“No?”

“That is not happening. I don’t want to be with you, I’m sorry.” You stumbled back to the door but before you could touch the doorknob, you were whirled around and pushed against it.

“When did I tell you, you could say no?” Steve growled his hand wrapping around your throat. “If you think you can reject me then you are sorely mistaken, darling. Don’t forget that the production house you work with the most is mine.”

You gasped. How could it be his? It was of Tony Stark, you scorched the earth and back and found no such connection.

Steve noticed your reaction and tsked.“You didn’t know? Don’t worry, you are not stupid sweetheart. The public doesn’t know that Stark is nothing but my pawn.” His other hand snaked around to squeeze your ass through your jeans and you screwed your eyes shut as his touch sent tingles through your body and your breaths became shorter.

He tugged you closer to him with your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. “Now, do you still want to be stubborn?”

Now, you were no dumbo. If Steve can jeopardize your relations with his production then he can also ruin your entire career. Mob involvement in the film industry is an unsaid rule. However, you didn’t know their claws were so deep and sharp.

“And what if I leave? Leave this industry?” What could be more precious than your pride?

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then you’ll just be the wife of Steve Rogers who was an actress. Remember princess, I’ll never leave you alone. If I held onto you for three years what makes you think I’ll not find you and drag you to my hell?”

Tears threatened your waterline as you murmured. “You are really forcing me?” What a stupid question to be asking a mobster.

He let out a throaty chuckle and moved his hand from your neck to his pant pocket however he was still invading your private space as his lips were inches away from your lips. “I’m giving you options: either come willingly or I’ll force you. Your choice, darling.”

He fished out a silver card from his pocket, tracing the sharp and cold edges of it on your face, meandering down your neck and stopping only when it reached the valley of your breast. You gasped harshly when he slid the card inside your bra, the chilled hard paper resting against your warm skin.

“My number, call me when you make a decision. You have one week.” He whispered against your lips before sealing the unspoken vow with a kiss.

With that he slipped away from your body and took his seat again like dark clouds gilding away from the moon before shortly, engulfing it once again. He resumed sipping from his glass like nothing serious happened and said nonchalantly. “You can go now.”

You ran to your car like you were burned. Which you were, your soul was burning. Burning from the choices you were given. Which was essentially choosing which cage you preferred better, golden or grey.

“Did you like the dinner?” Steve asked in his deep voice as he sat across from you at the dining table.

Blinking your eyes away from the full moon that shone outside the dining room window, you glanced at Steve and nodded. “Yes, I liked it.”

You did come to him willingly in the end, after all, what choice did you have? The moment you admitted your defeat and called Steve flashed in front of your eyes. His smug and triumphant words ringing in your ears.

“Nice choice, princess.”

“You seem to like the moon a lot,” Steve observed as his piercing gaze never left you, noting your every move and reaction.

You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you. His presence still sent chills of fear down your spine. His imposing figure and intense gaze made your heart race. Not to mention the way his eyes sparkled with desire and lust whenever they laid upon you.

“Yes, the night is beautiful.” You replied softly.

“Do you want to go upstairs? In the balcony for a better view? I also have a very pretty garden.” Steve offered and you refrained from frowning.

From the moment you accepted his advances, Steve has been acting like the perfect lover. Sending flowers, expensive gifts, wanting to have nice and deep conversations and supporting you in your work. But still, you couldn’t decipher if he was actually being nice or plain manipulative.

However, you had grown tired, sitting and chatting in the room, the walls suffocating you. “I would like that.”

Steve grinned and stood up from his chair, taking a few long strides he reached you and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slipping your hand in his, you got up. You sucked a sharp breath when his hand tightened around your smaller one and his eyes grew darker. You ignored the building tension as he led you upstairs, to the balcony.

His mansion was spectacular, painted beige with marble murals. It resembled old French castles with intricate paintings from Greek mythology on walls to railing carved with various plant and flower motifs.

When he said he enjoyed beauty, he wasn’t bluffing.

Stepping on the top floor, there was a lounge area with a fireplace on the right and a couch on the left. In front was the glass door leading to the balcony. Steve opened the door and you had to hold back your gasp as the view was absolutely breathtaking.

It had the same marble railing as before and also had a sitting space for two people with two chairs and one glass table, perfect for a cosy morning or evening. The balcony ran along the entire top floor, connected with all the rooms.

However, the main highlight was the enormous garden that stood before your eyes. Tall trees were perched vertically of all types, some bearing fruits, some flowers and some none. Speaking of flowers, bright, colourful flowers adorned the garden like jewels. Rose, jasmine, sunflower, etc scattered all over with moonlight pouring on them.

It was straight out of a princess movie and you could spend your entire life wandering inside it, reading books under the tree shade.

“It’s gorgeous.” You whispered to Steve as you stepped forward, leaning on the railing.

“I know, my mother made it. She wanted me to keep the garden big and flourishing. So, I put everything I could to keep it perfect.” Steve revealed and moved behind you, his body pressing against yours.

You were so engrossed in gazing at the garden that you missed his hand coming to cover yours and he laid a soft kiss on your cheek.

“What are you doing?” You questioned as you tried to step away from his grip but he had you trapped.

“Enjoying my view,” He said as he gripped your hips and pressed them against him, his semi-hard cock pressing against your ass. “See what you do to me?”

His lips trailed down, kissing and sucking on your neck. His left hand travelled from your hips to your breast, he squeezed the underside of your tities while grinding his erection against your bottom. Your breathing was getting heavy as he continued to massage your boobs and sucked on your neck, collarbone and shoulder.

You had to refrain from biting your lips. His strong body and demanding moves were making you unwillingly wet. But he forced you into a relationship you didn’t want, you didn’t want this, right?

“I don’t want to do it.” You whispered despite wanting nothing but his hands under your scarlet dress.

“No?” He chuckled. “Let’s check, shall we?” He whispered seductively in your ear.

Your eyes widened as you thrashed in his grip but he stopped all your attempts to deny the truth with a hand around your neck and a squeeze that made you go still. His other hand glided under your dress and found your panties damp.

“Your pussy proved you wrong, princess.” He said with a smug laugh. He sucked at your pulse point as his fingers moved your lace panties aside and caressed your folds. The suddenness made you let out a choked moan as your hold tightened on the railing.

His words embarrassed you but you couldn’t deny that his touch was making your body betray you. He played your body like an instrument.

His fingers ran along your petals, spreading your arousal and brushing your clit, his index finger teasing your entrance when he abruptly stopped.

You blinked, gasping and panting. You were about to glance at him in confusion when he bent you over, your head resting against the marble railing as he went down on his knees, bunching up your dress around your waist. He ripped off your panties, the sound heating your cheeks with humiliation.

“You deserve to be punished.” He said through gritted teeth as he slapped your clit, making you jerk at the delicious sting as he spread your legs wider for him so your pussy was on full display. Wet and ready.

“Spank your ass till it’s burning for going out with that pathetic excuse of a man Johnny or have Bucky watch you as I fuck you senseless. He’s also a fan after all." He spread your labia and sucked on your clit, making you moan out loud as your stomach flipped.

“But I can’t, because this pussy is too tempting of a distraction.” He lamented as his lips went down to your pussy and his tongue teased your cunt with slow yet precise strokes.

Your left hand moved to his hair and tugged on the blonde locks as his administration made your clit pulsate with need. You couldn’t decipher whether you wanted him to stop or continue.

He tutted on you pulling his hair. You whimpered at the loss of his mouth on your pussy when the clicking of his belt echoed in the empty space. He yanked both your hands behind your back and secured them in place with his belt, the grip firm but not harsh.

“No.Touching.” He growled in your ear as his words were accentuated by a slap on each of your buttcheeks, making you whimper in pain and pleasure as you let your forehead rest against the cool marble and he knelt again.

He took your clit in his mouth again but with more ferocity as your pussy clenched around nothing, “Oh my god, Steve yes!” You mewled.

“Captain or I won’t let you cum.” He commanded as his fingers joined in and drew slow and teasing circles around your cunt.

“Captain, please.” You pleaded as your orgasm started to build up in your stomach.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” He finally eased his index finger inside of you, his thick and long finger filling your pussy and you were afraid as to how you were going to take his cock as his finger alone stretched your vagina.

He pumped his finger in and out of you all the while kissing and sucking your clit. When you bucked into his finger he added another one, exploring your velvety walls to find your spot that would make you sing. He curled his fingers when you dripped around his fingers and mouth.

“Mhmm, captain. Feels so good.” You cried out as your climax was approaching you faster, your skin glistening with sweat under the pale moonlight. It was so embarrassing, being this crying and moaning mess he had turned you into. His hands kneading your thighs and ass.

“Are you going to cum, princess?” Steve asked in a husky voice as he kept up his pace, replacing his mouth with his thumb to grow circles around the bundle of nerves,

Your skin was on ablaze, the coil tightening in your belly as you were tethering on the of falling apart. “Yes, Captain. Please let me cum.” You requested, spellbound. He didn’t need to ask you to beg, you were already sliding into your subspace. His finger found your g spot as he twisted his fingers, making you whimper as your breath shuddered.

He snickered, sending vibrations through your body. “I didn’t know you were so obedient, good to know.”His hand came down on your clit and it was the final straw that threw you over the edge.

You came with a loud moan as the blinding pleasure brought tears to your eyes and you gushed around his lips and fingers, coating his chin. He lapped all your juice, his pace not halting as he drank your nectar greedily.

Your body was quivering from the force of your orgasm, your heart racing as you tried to collect yourself.

Steve got up on his feet and you almost collapsed when he wrapped a sturdy hand around your shaking body, pressing you against his chest. He jutted your chin up and grinned down at you. “Aw, you already look so fucked out darling but it’s just the beginning, we have the whole night.” He smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your tired whimpers and moans.

After devouring your mouth and leaving you breathless. He picked you up and started walking to his left. You were too dizzy to notice your surroundings till you were hitting silk bed sheet and plush mattress. You glanced at Steve through your hazy vision as he stood at the end of the bed.

He smirked down at you. “How about you return the favour, sweetheart? Strip.” He ordered and it was enough to clear your mind of any hangover.

Your hand snaked to your back and you slid down the zipper and pulled off your dress, your breast clad in red lace coming into view as you completely removed the dress and discarded it on the floor.

You then unclasped your bra, trepidation and anticipation mingling together as your boobs spilled out. Now, you were completely naked, your panties already torn and tossed away.

“On your hands and knees.” He commanded as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his abs and chest made your mouth water and you wanted to grab and touch him but shook away the thoughts.

You got on your hands and knees, clothes rustling till the bed dipped behind you. Steve ran his hand up your spine, sneaking underneath to grop your breast. You mewled as his thumb tweaked your pebbled nipples, twisting and flickering the buds till you were writhing under him.

His other hand smacked your ass, causing you to whimper. “Spread your legs more, I want to see that pussy.”

You spread your legs some more, displaying your glistening cunt to Steve’s hungry gaze. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He said as he played with you enough that you were whining before he rubbed the tip of his cock over your cunt, spreading your arousal and his pre cum.

You shuddered, you had an inclining that he was big but how much? That you didn’t know since you couldn’t see his dick from your position.

He slapped the head of his cock on your pussy and you visibly shuddered. He did it a few more times before you were dripping for him and was on the verge of sobbing in frustration.

“Such a shame that it is about to get ruined by my big cock.” He declared and pushed the tip inside you. You moaned as you awaited your eventual mounting.

You clutched the silky sheets as he slowly bottomed out, your walls spasmed as they tried to accommodate his length. You were so full already and he was gracious enough to give you time to adjust. All the while he explored your body, kissing your spine, kneading and spanking your thighs, ass and breasts. His touch was electrifying and in no time, you were whimpering for him to move.

“Ah, someone is getting impatient.” Steve mocked but began moving out of your hot channel. He was slow and deliberate, his girth dragged through your walls and your pussy fluttered.

He hissed. “Don’t do that darling if you want to walk the next day.” He pulled out all the way, only the tip remained inside. Pushing your head further into the pillow as he slammed inside your cunt in one stroke, taking your breath away.

“Look at your pussy, pulling me in and clenching around me,” He grunted as his hold on your hips tightened. He looked where you two were connected and sighed in awe. “I didn’t know you were such a slut, you look so innocent. But look at you now, dripping around a man’s dick you barely know,” He pulled out again and thrusted back in with the same power. The slow yet rough pace he set made you cry out in pleasure as your climax started to stir in your lower belly again. “But I like how cockdrunk you are that you just don’t give a shit anymore.” He groaned and pulled out.

He changed his angle slightly and when he thrusted back again, he hit your g-spot and you screamed, flames of pleasure intensifying. He tugged you by the hair, pressing you against his toned chest. “Tell me that you are my slut.” He growled in my ear.

“I’m your slut, Captain!” you said breathlessly as his deep thrusts made you gasp.

His hand came to your clit and his thumb started drawing circles, making you tremble in his grip. “Yes, you are my slut. My fuck toy, who would let me do whatever I want and whenever I want with her because I own you now. Repeat what I have said.” He thrusted harder and if it wasn't for his strong grip, you would have fallen down.

“I'm your fuck toy. You can do whatever you want and whenever you want with me because you own me now.” You cried.

“Such a good obedient girl- Ahh, taking my cock so well. Now, you are going to ask me to make you cum.” He groaned his thumb sped up. Leaning down, he sucked on your pulse point, surely leaving a hickey, marking you as his.

“Please Captain, let me cum! Let me cum around your big cock.” You squealed out. Tilting your face upwards he kissed, hard and rough, you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on him.

“Good girl, now cum for me.” He demanded as fingers and thumb pinched your clit, his cock hitting your sweet spot in quick succession.

You shrieked ‘captain’ as you came around his girth, squirting on his dick. “Good, what a good little slut for your captain.” He moaned in satisfaction as he nibbled at your earlobe, fucking you through your release.

He let go of you when your shaking died down. Your face fell on the pillow as you tried to catch your breath. Your fucked out mind didn’t register that he didn’t come till you were being flipped on your back. Coming face-to-face with his annoyingly handsome face.

“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” He rasped with a smirk as he plunged into your cunt once again, but this time with more fervour.

You instantly mewled but the overstimulation and coming two times had worn you out, you weren’t used to this. You attempted to scoot away from Steve. “I-I can’t, too much.”

He pulled you back down on his cock, wrapping your legs around his waist. He restrained your hands over his head with one hand, leaving you unable to escape the pleasure he was giving you. “You can and you will. Get used to it, sweetheart. I’m being gentle right now,” He growled as he moved on top of you.

The pace was rough and fast, the bed rattling with each thrust, your boobs jiggled from the speed. He placed his hand on your lower stomach. “Do you feel me here?” He asked, the belly bulge sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I do, Captain.” You managed to choke out as he pounded in your pussy mercilessly.

“Then enjoy it, honey. Enjoy, writhing and moaning underneath me. My cock stretching your tight cunt, because that’s where you belong. Taking my cock like a good little fuck doll.” He husked as the force of his thrust increased with each passing second. The pain and pleasure mixing made tears fall from your eyes, the knot tightening yet again.

Steve leaned over you, kissing your tears, trailing down to your neck and then your boobs, groping and licking the plump area before taking your pebbled nipples into his hot mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arched, pleasure zapping through your body like thunder as his hot tongue sucked on your nipples and his hand massaged your other breast. All the while his thick cock rammed into you, his pubic areas brushing your clit.

Your hands jolted to touch him but he had your hands pinned above. You shut your eyes and enjoyed the unyielding pleasure he was bestowing upon you as pressure built up for the third time in your stomach. Your moans and his grunts bounced off the wall, so did the clapping sound of skin slapping against the skin.

Suddenly, his grasp loosened before coolness touched your ring finger. You looked up as he slid a beautiful sapphire ring into your finger, sealing your fate with his forever. You managed out a surprised gasp. He brought your hand down and pinned it to your side, giving you a proper view of the ring as it sparkled under the stark glowing moon.

“Imagine me, sweetheart,” Your breath caught in your throat as his speed grew frantic, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt as he chased his own release. “Imagine me when you have to romance on screen with some pitiful A-list actor.” He whispered in your ear, intertwining your hands with his as he kissed your lips. It was softer than the previous ones but no less demanding.

“Imagine me when you have to pretend to fuck someone on set. Because I know,” He whispered against your lips before lowering his hand to your clit and he drew fast circles on the bundle of nerves to help you fall apart.

Steve cursed under his breath and thrusted faster when your walls clenched his dick. “Because I know that I have ruined you for any other man. Ruined this pussy for anyone except me. So, imagine me when you kiss a man and realize that he’ll never make you feel this good.” You nodded along his words as tears streamed down your cheeks, smearing your eyeliner and mascara but he paid no heed to it. Rather, enjoying your fucked out state.

The fullness of his dick inside your pussy and the overwhelming stimulation finally tipped you over the edge as you came the hardest and it hit you like a tsunami.

After some more brutal thrust, he came inside of you with a loud groan. His hot cum spilling inside your abused cunt as it milked him dry. He pumped into you a few more times, giving you every last drop of his seed and staying inside your warm channels till his cock softened.

He put his forehead against yours as he finally pulled out and you almost whined at the loss of dick but restrained yourself as his cum leaked out of your hole.

Only heavy breaths echoed in the spacious room as both of you caught your breath. You were beyond regaining your previous strength as you couldn’t even move a muscle. However, Steve recovered shortly afterwards as he kissed your forehead and whispered smugly. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

You didn’t answer because he was right, you enjoyed every bit of it even if you didn’t want to. Before you could drown yourself in self-pity. Steve picked you up and took you to his bathroom to soak you in a nice, warm bath…

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #mob steve #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x reader au #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob steve rogers #CT 2024 raffle entry

401 notes · View notes

marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

"Not a study date"

Summary: You have the biggest crush on Bucky Barnes but despite all your efforts, he doesn’t seem to notice you. Can one study date change it all?

Pairing: College Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, idiots in love, study date, misunderstandings, jealousy, language, oral sex (male and female receiving), protected sex, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 6.4K

A/N: I really wanted to write a College!Bucky Barnes story and this is it. It’s full of foolishness, miscommunication, and jealousy with a happy ending. This means it’s basically smut with a little bit of plot. I hope you enjoy it and if you do please give some kind of feedback. Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Nothing seems to change whenever you visit your best friend's ex-boyfriend Sam Wilson. That sounds weird every time you remember Michelle dated him but things are just fine between them since it was Michelle who just decided to change schools and they ended things on friendly terms. He’s a good friend and really fun to play games with since he’s a sore loser but most importantly he’s your only connection to Bucky Barnes.

God, that sounds so wrong. Like you are only friends with him just to be closer to Bucky, that’s definitely not the case but you can’t deny Bucky is one of the reasons you are visiting him so often. You like that Bucky secretly watches you two while you are playing games and celebrates your every victory. You know he just loves to annoy Sam but it makes you so happy every time he joins your efforts to brag about winning but that’s mostly it.

You tried really hard to find some common interests with Bucky so you two can chat. He likes games, he loves reading books and you have a couple of classes together. You have a lot of things in common but nothing sticks for long when you are trying to have a conversation with him. You are not sure if it’s because he’s totally uninterested in you or you are just horrible at flirting. This doesn’t stop you from trying though.

That’s why you are at Sam and Bucky’s place. Once again you found a reason to stop by and maybe because he has had enough of you, Bucky makes a comment that you did not expect.

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on Sam.”

“What?” The shock you feel is so hard to explain. You how no idea how surprised you sound.

“Well, you are here nearly every day.” Bucky tries to explain his thought process, already sounding awkward because of your reaction.

“Eww, no.”

“What do you mean eww no?” Sam sounds offended.

“You are my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and?” God, does Sam thinks that way, too? You thought you two had an understanding. “You dated my best friend. You are like a brother to me. Of course, I’m gonna say eww.”

“Oh, some kind of girl's code, huh?” Bucky somehow sounds relieved but you don’t notice it’s because of your response.

“Great answer, bub. I was testing you.” Sam’s offended tone instantly disappears.

“Were you?” Bucky questions him before you can. “You sounded really offended to me.”

“Part of my talent.”

The conversation quickly changes into something else but Bucky’s observation sticks with you. Bucky thinking you might have feelings for Sam leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are here to see him, day after day, and all this time he thought you just came to see Sam. Either he’s blind or you are just not good at showing your intentions. And then there’s a third option that you don’t even wanna think about: He noticed exactly who you are here for and decided to ignore it so he doesn’t have to reject you. Either way, it hurts.

You consider canceling your study session with Bucky. It’s just gonna be awkward to sit next to him and try to focus on the notes. Plus, you are sure studying alone will be more efficient. No distractions at all.

“About our studying session…” You start to speak before leaving with the intention to cancel your plans.

“Oh yeah, you are still coming, right?” Bucky’s whole face lights up. It’s hard not to see it. He seems excited. “I convinced Faye to share her notes with me. You know how great her notes are. It’s already guaranteed that we will get an amazing score.”

Oh, that’s why he’s excited. Because he used his charm and managed to convince Faye to share her notes. She doesn’t do that often, if ever. She knows how precious her notes are and he’s right. That is literally your golden ticket to get a great score.

“I was gonna ask if you still want to study together.”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He sounds confused.

“I don’t know.” You sound unsure. “Maybe you are tired of me since I’m always around.”

“Oh, come on! I was just joking.” He quickly responds. “You always come here to spend time with Sam. We never hang out just the two of us.”

He’s right. He always stays away from you. Only making comments from far away. Maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign.

“This is not hanging out, either. It’s just studying together.”

He shrugs and you miss the disappointed expression that passes his face.

“Just come, okay? I promise it will be worth it.”

“Ugh, I’m glad I won’t be here. You two are insufferable. It’s just a study date. No big deal.” Sam can’t help but comment on your conversation.

“It’s not a date.” You and Bucky say at the same time. You look at him, feeling disappointed but try to hide it as much as you can.

“Whatever you say,” Sam raises both of his hands in defense but doesn’t seem like he believed you.

This was definitely a bad idea. It’s been a while since you two started studying and you did not understand a word. Not because Faye’s notes are bad. Nope, they are perfect but you can’t seem to focus on the words. The only thing you can focus on is Bucky’s smell. You try really hard not to check him out and it’s relatively easier since he’s sitting close to you but his smell… God, that’s so distracting. You have no idea what exactly it is. It seems like a mix of his own smell, the perfume he uses, and a bit of a sweat. You should be disgusted by the thought of sweat but all you want to do is get closer to him.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. This is just a silly crush, nothing more. You can just focus on the notes and learn something useful before the exam. You can do that, right? While you try to read the same sentence for the 19th time, Bucky takes his phone and starts to type something. The idea of him texting someone else while studying with you is so irritating but there’s nothing you can do about it. This is just a stupid study session for him. You push your chair to the back, thinking about getting a glass of water.

“I’m gonna get-” When you notice the awkward expression on Bucky’s face you stop talking. Before he can cover it, you notice the reason he’s looking so uncomfortable. His erection is impossible to hide in those gray shorts he’s wearing.

“It’s not what you think.” He immediately responds while trying to hide his erection but there’s no way he can tuck it in while you are staring at him.

“Are you really sexting with someone while we are studying?” That’s the first thing that comes to your mind and you can’t keep that thought to yourself.

“What? No!”

“I mean… it’s alright. You can see or talk to whoever you want but…” It’s so hard to collect your thoughts and turn them into meaningful sentences while your mind is running miles in seconds. It feels so humiliating and not because of the erection. The thought of him sexting someone right next to you… while you tried to get his attention all this time… It just stings.

“What the fuck?” He sounds completely shocked. “I’m not sexting anyone. Why would you even think that?”

“Why else would you get an erection in the middle of studying?” You really can’t think of any other possibilities. Plus he’s still holding his phone. “It’s fine.”

He says your name in a way he never did before. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not sexting with anyone. I texted Sam and then I was googling a word I saw in Faye’s notes because I have no idea what it means and I thought it would help me calm down.”

“Oh.” That’s completely unexpected. Then why did he get an erection out of the blue?

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want you to find out like this. God! It’s so embarrassing.” His words don’t make sense to you. What is he trying to say?

“Find out about what?” You try to understand him. “That you get erections?”

“What? No.” Then what did he mean? “I didn’t want you to find out… about my feelings… like this.” He sounds so nervous, even more nervous than you are feeling.

“For me?” The question comes instantly because there is no way that’s what he meant.

“Of course for you. Who else?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You finally put two and two together. “You just got an erection, because of me?”

“Ihm…” You can’t help but notice how awkward he sounds. “Yeah… I’m really sorry. I’m so ashamed.” He covers his face with both of his hands for a second. Then he continues. “I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I swear I’m not a creep. You just smell… so good.”

“You just got an erection because you have feelings for me?” You are sounding like a stuck record at this point but you can’t believe he really said that.

“Yeah. I was planning to ask you out, tonight. That’s why I was texting Sam but… instead… I made a fool of myself.” The panic in tone is so evident. Your eyes go back to his still-obvious erection. “I’m normally not like this. I don’t know what happened. Please forgive me.”

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You ask without taking your eyes off the outline of his erection.

“What?”

“Since you got hard because of me, I’m offering help.” You slowly close the distance between you two.

“That’s not… necessary.” He gulps. “It will go away in a few minutes.”

You have no idea where this wave of confidence comes from. Maybe because he just told you he wanted to ask you out or maybe because the smell of you gave him a hard-on. You just find yourself gently palming his erection over his shorts and he instantly takes a sharp breath.

“What if… I don’t want it to go away?”

“You’re not… you’re not offended?”

“You are not a random creep out in the street, Bucky. I know you. I like you. Why would I be offended?”

“Wait, you like me?” He sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.” You keep gently rubbing him. He doesn’t take a step back or try to stop you. His eyelashes flutter like he’s enjoying the sensation. “Why do you think I was visiting Sam so often?”

“Not because you have a crush on him?” He asks with a smile.

“Nope, because I have a crush on you.”

“You… have… a crush on me?” It feels like in the span of a couple of minutes, you two changed roles and it’s his turn to feel surprised by your words.

“Yeah. For a while.”

“I guess Sam was right.”

“Was he?” You ask while you move your head closer. “About what?”

“He said you like me and I’m too blind to notice it.”

“Hmm… Even he noticed it, huh? I guess he is right.” Bucky looks at your lips while you are talking. You can see the idea of kissing you forming in his head.

“Can I…” He sounds like he isn’t sure, yet he tries one more time. “Can I kiss you?”

“My hand is on your hard cock, right now. What do you think?” Your response gives him a huge grin.

“I still wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes, you can kiss me, Bucky.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips instantly crush on yours, like a thirsty man who finally found a glass of cold water. His lips move fast against yours until you rub on his cock again. It makes him gasp in the middle of the kiss, and the rhythm is lost. You feel how painfully hard he is under your touch. You don’t know if it is your effect or it’s because it has been a while for him. You would like to know, but you don’t want to ask. Instead, your hands move to the waistband of his shorts. You look directly into his eyes, silently asking for permission. He just gulps and then blinks.

You always thought he was just distant when it comes to you, but you finally realize it was actually Bucky’s shyness. He gets flushed under your touch, struggling to find the right words. He communicates through his body language, but you want to change that a little. You want him to be vocal if you are gonna have sex. That’s when the idea of sucking him off comes to you. Unexpectedly, you kneel and gently push his shorts and boxers down while he watches you with big eyes. There’s no fear or worry behind those eyes. You see how excited but reserved he is. You want to show him there’s nothing to worry about. While directly looking at him, you start to stroke him. His cock is so close to your face, but you don’t make a move, you only move your hand up and down on his shaft slowly. His breathing shutters under your touch, but he says nothing. He just watches you.

“Is this okay?” You ask, already knowing it is. You just want him to talk. You wanna hear his voice.

“Ye-yeah.” He sounds so breathy. You start to twist your wrist a little, just to change the sensation.

“What about this?” He takes a deep breath.

“So good.”

Maybe he isn’t a talker during sex. That’s fine, but you don’t want to give up that quickly. So this time, you sit on your knees and take him inside your mouth without any warning.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” His reaction makes you want to smile so widely, but your mouth is full of him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” You ask while pumping him with your hand.

“Just warn me, so I don’t embarrass myself.”

“Embarrass yourself how?” Your question catches him off guard. “I wanna hear those reactions. Don't hold back!”

He just nods like a good boy, and that makes you smile. You don’t say anything, though. You just take him back into your mouth. This time, he lets out a moan. Your tongue moves around the head of his cock, swirling over and over again until he whines. He literally whines under your tongue and that makes you feel like you won a prize. It doesn’t take him long to grab your hair. He doesn’t try to control your movement or push you. It just feels like he’s trying to find something to hold on to.

You pace up a little, moving your head up and down on his cock while gently massaging his balls. That does it. First, you hear a loud moan that sounds like choking, then before he could even utter a word, the first shot of his come hits the back of your throat. You keep going until he empties himself. While you move away from him, you see his eyes are still closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them just in time to catch you swallowing.

“Oh my fucking god…” He sounds like he can’t believe what he is witnessing. You wonder if no one has ever done this in front of him before.

“How are you feeling now?” Your voice is much calmer than you expect.

“So good. You have no idea.”

“I might have a little bit of an idea.” You smile while standing up. The hard floor tired your knees so you rub both of them.

“That was just amazing.” For some reason, he sounds younger and inexperienced at this moment. Like this was his first blowjob ever but you know that’s not the case. You heard a couple of stories from Sam, and you know this isn’t Bucky’s first rodeo. Yet, he sounds so affected by you. That directly goes to your ego.

You sit back down on your chair, not knowing what to do next, but it doesn’t take you long to realize Bucky does. He’s already getting on his knees while you give him a confused look.

“You know, that’s not necessary, right?”

“I know.”

“You don’t need to return the favor or anything. I did it because I wanted to.” You have no idea why you are discouraging him to do whatever he is planning on doing. You want to see what he wants, yet you don’t want him to feel obliged or anything.

“And now I am doing this because I want to.”

He puts his hands on both of your legs, gently pushing them apart. You didn’t realize how turned on you are until this moment. Your focus was completely on him, wanting to make him feel good and you forgot about yourself. You didn’t even realize how wet you are. Carefully, he moves into the space between your legs and pushes your skirt up. His fingers graze over your covered pussy, and you are sure he can actually feel your wetness through the fabric.

“Can I take it off?” God, why does he sound so shy while asking that? And why does it turn you on even more?

“Are you gonna ask my permission for every single move?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“I like it, but you don’t have to ask everything. Not after coming inside my mouth.” You smile after finishing your sentence and you watch how flushed he gets, but you see that he understands what you mean. His hands reach for your underwear and take it off pretty quickly like he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t touch your skirt, simply gets under it. That’s why you can’t see the first time he licks you. Immediately you move your skirt up to your waist and here he is, buried between your legs. He hungrily eats you out, his long licks sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh my god!”

Your reaction makes him look up for the first time. That flushed expression turned into pure hunger. His blue eyes watch every mimic you make while he starts to suck your clit. He definitely started strong, but you can’t complain, especially when you are this soaked. You didn’t even realize you pushed your legs together and trapped him between them until he gently pushed them apart.

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly say, but he doesn’t seem to care. He licks, he sucks, and does everything in his power to crumble under his touch. It’s so intense that you can’t think of anything other than the way he makes you feel. You don’t even notice how quickly your first orgasm hits you. It’s hard and fast. You can’t keep your voice down. No, you moan his name so loudly. If he didn’t come a couple of minutes ago, the way you said his name over and over again would get him hard again. Even with that in mind, he could feel the blood rushing to his dick, yet he keeps licking you until you push his head away.

“That’s… that’s enough.” It’s hard to breathe normally. You really didn’t expect to come this hard. The orgasm is still running through your whole body.

“Sensitive?” His voice is low yet sweet.

“Yeah, a little.” You take a deep breath. “Just give me a second.”

He does that, but instead of moving away, he puts his head on your leg. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you look at him. He is so pretty like this, looking up to you with big blue eyes and a wet mouth.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “I didn’t expect to come this hard.”

“Well…” You watch a big grin spreading on his lips. “Welcome to my world. I didn’t expect to come without a warning either.”

“That good?”

“Oh, yeah. That good.” He quickly agrees. “Sorry about that though.”

“Sorry about what?” You really have no idea what he means.

“Sorry about coming without warning.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” You stop for a second. “Sorry about giving you a hard-on.”

“The most embarrassing and the most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”

“Hmm… How so?” You fish for more.

“I don’t… You know… Go around getting hard-ons randomly.”

“Really? I thought that happened a lot to men.”

“Not like this. Waking up with morning wood? Yeah. That happens, but getting an erection in the middle of studying? That’s a first.”

“Happy to have a first in your life.”

“I never came like this without a warning either.”

“Two firsts.” You don’t realize how smug you sound, but he does.

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I have ever come this hard without… you know… something inside me.”

“Is that so?” The way he smiles just makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “You like to have something inside?”

“If they know… how to use it.”

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?”

He moves his head away from your right leg, repositioning himself, and before you could say anything, his mouth is on you again. His tongue is gentle, testing the waters to see if you are still sensitive, but honestly, you are not. You just want him to move a little faster. You don’t say it though. You want to see what he is planning. He keeps on licking you for a while, making sure you are ready for his fingers and when he decides that you are, he slowly pushes his index finger inside. You moan in response.

“Does it feel good?” He takes his mouth off your clit for a second to ask.

“Yeah. It feels so good!” You can feel what he is trying to do. He’s building up your pleasure so slowly, you know it’s going to be explosive at the end. He keeps pumping his finger in and out of you while watching your expressions.

“Do you want the second one or…” You don’t let him finish his question.

“I want the second one.”

Your response makes him smile again. You are not sure what makes him happier: your eagerness or your openness. It does seem like he isn’t used to getting direct feedback, but he thrives on it. Quickly, he adds the second finger inside and you can’t help but notice how his thick fingers are filling you. It’s such a delicious feeling. You are so lost in it, you don’t realize how he leans back into your pussy. He nibbles your clit carefully while moving his finger at a steady pace. You can’t help but think he knows what he’s doing and he’s good at reading your reactions. He notices you react more when he licks instead of sucks, so he quickly switches back to it.

“Oh, fuck!” You love how his tongue feels against your skin. Your hands find his hair, pulling it gently just to ground yourself. You feel him moan against your clit when you tug on his hair. The idea of him enjoying it somehow turns you on even more. You decide to test it and pull his hair a little bit more when you feel like doing it. His loud moan vibrates on your swollen clit. It’s like he can’t get enough of it.

“Someone likes a bit of pain.”

He pulls away from your pussy for a second. When he looks at you, you can see how turned on he is. The hunger is evident in his eyes.

“Someone likes being full.”

“I’m not full, yet.” You aren’t trying to tease him, that’s the truth yet you can see that sounds like a promise to him. The promise of taking a lot more than just two fingers. He doesn’t say anything. He just goes back to licking and pumping his fingers. The only difference is he’s moving a lot faster than before and you aren’t sure how long you can take this before your orgasm comes back to crush you. It’s overwhelming yet not enough. You don’t realize how your body arches before you start to lose yourself in that pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words come out involuntarily. “Don’t stop, Bucky. Please. So good. So fucking good.”

He keeps going, keeping that same pace. He wants to encourage you and talk to you, but his mouth is busy giving you pleasure. Hearing you moaning and begging is enough for now.

“Oh, god.” Your whole body starts to shake. It’s like your whole body is electrified. “Yes, yes, yes, Bucky. God, I love your mouth so much.”

He smiles against your clit but doesn’t break the contact. He didn’t think you would be this vocal, but he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Ahh, fuck, ahhh yes.” You moan out while shaking. You have no idea how long this orgasm lasts, but you feel so good. As your shaking starts to slow down, Bucky starts to move slower to match that.

“Mmm.” You knew sex with Bucky would be good but this is definitely how you imagined it. Finally, he moves his mouth away from you when he realizes your orgasm is done. You feel so boneless, so relieved.

“Are you okay?” His question brings you back to reality and you notice your eyes are closed. You open them back up and meet his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” He smiles so proudly.

“Glad to hear that.”

“You have no idea how tired yet relaxed I am feeling right now.”

“Not too tired I hope.” That surprises you.

“Why is that?”

“I thought you wanted to be full.” Then you see his erection. It’s actually impossible not to see how painfully hard he is even though he already came once.

“You want to…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You thought you would be done after this. You never had someone who wanted you like this before. The feeling settles into your chest. He wants you. He still wants you that bad after coming so hard. It makes you feel seen and desired.

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“Oh, I do.” Your response is instant. You really do. Even after two orgasms, you feel like you want more. You imagined riding his dick or him bending you over and fucking you hard so many times. You want to know how it really feels.

“Good.” He stands up, and when his erection is on your eye level, you can’t help but stare. Not every dick is aesthetically pleasing. Some don’t even look like they would feel good, but Bucky… Bucky’s dick waters your mouth like you didn’t already give him a blowjob. You need it inside of you. While you are lost in thoughts, Bucky picks you up from your chair. You let out a small yelp while he offers you a warm smile.

“Just carrying you to the bedroom, doll.”

“Doll?” You never heard him use that nickname before.

“Yeah, you are a pretty little doll. So beautiful and so smart. Very eager and loud.”

You don’t know how to react. A lot of praises combined with stuff that makes you wanna question him more.

“Am I that loud?” You can’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure my neighbors hate us right now.”

“Oh god.” You feel your cheeks getting red, but he doesn’t seem concerned.

“Don’t let that stop you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel, doll.” He gently puts you on top of the bed.

“Doll.” You repeat, without an implied question mark.

“If you don’t like it…”

“I do. I really do.” You want to be his pretty little doll and your reaction makes him smile again. “It’s just new. I never heard you say it.”

“Because it is only for you.” Those words cause different a kind of warmth to spread through your chest.

You watch him open the drawer and pull out a condom. He rips the package off impatiently and puts it on with haste. Seeing how impatient he is makes you giggle and that makes him look back at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Someone is eager to be inside me.”

“Aren’t you eager to feel my cock inside you?” His words take you by surprise. What happened to that shy boy who couldn’t find the word to tell you what he wants? Your shocked look makes him worry a little. He’s afraid that he crossed some kind of line.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Your words sweep away his fear.

“You like that?” He asks while closing the distance between you. “You like when I say dirty stuff like that?”

“Yeah. I love it.”

“You wanna hear how good you are for me?” You didn’t expect that question at all. He moves closer to you, forcing you to lie down. He positions himself between your legs. “Because you are so good for me.” His words make your pussy clench around nothing. You really need him inside you, and he doesn’t waste any time. He knows you are as impatient as he is. He slowly pushes his cock inside, taking his time and being gentle. He moves back and then forth until he’s balls deep inside you and you can’t hold back that loud moan. It just feels so good to be full.

“Shit.” You throw your head back. Your legs automatically wrap around his torso. He leans down and gives you a long kiss, taking his sweet time so you can get used to the feeling of him. Then he starts to move slowly while his mouth moves to your neck, gently sucking on your skin. It feels great, but somehow it’s not enough. So you start to move your hips with him, matching his rhythm but creating more friction.

“You want more already?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, more like he’s amused.

“Yeah. I need it harder.”

“Harder.” He repeats. “My doll needs it harder.”

Before you can say anything, he moves away from you. A loud whine leaves your lips. You don’t like that feeling of emptiness. You want to protest, but he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He pushes your legs up and repositions himself between your legs. Then without saying a word, he gets inside you again.

“Holy fuck.” Your reaction comes out instantly. It feels so different, even more full. Then he starts to move, a little harder than before. Even though he isn’t using much force, because of the angle, it feels much better.

“Is it hard enough for you?” He sounds cheeky.

“Yes, for now.”

“For now.” He repeats your words. “For now is good because we are just starting.”

You would love to say something back, but it feels too good. The only thing you can do is moan. With every moan you let out, he moves a little bit faster, he grows a little bit more impatient. He pays attention to what makes you moan more, which movement makes you lose yourself, and tries to repeat them. The room is filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and how wet you are. Combined with your moans, he starts to lose control and move faster than before. That triggers more moans out of you. It turns into a vicious cycle until you are panting and begging.

“Please, please, please…” You can already taste your orgasm. It’s that close.

“Please what? Tell me what you need.”

“More… I need more.”

“Be more specific, doll. More of what?” That nickname sends a jolt of electricity through your body. “Do you want me to rub your clit?”

“No, no.” That’s not what you need. “I need you to move faster.”

“If I move faster… I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Don’t hold back.” You say while taking deep breaths. “Let’s come together.”

“Are you sure? It won’t last that long.”

“Try to hold back until I say let go.” You really want to come at the same time.

“I’m not sure if that will work.”

“You can stop anytime if you feel like you are about to come before me. That’s okay.”

“But what about…” You don’t let him finish.

“We can build my orgasm back up. It’s there, I can feel it. Just move as fast as you can and try to hold back. You can let go when I start coming, okay?”

He nods, but you see he’s not fully convinced. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.

“It’s okay if you come before me. Not the end of the world.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna let you down.” The vulnerability is so evident in his voice.

“You can never let me down. I don’t care if you come early. I will take it as a compliment.”

Your words make him smile a little. His hesitation is still there, but the urge to please you outweighs his worries. He leans down and kisses you in response. Long and full of love. You realize how much your words mean to him just with that kiss. When he pulls back, he starts to move again. He returns to his previous pace and starts to go faster bit by bit. You can feel that familiar feeling of approaching orgasm again. It’s slowly building up, but when you look at Bucky’s face, you notice he’s closer than you are. You need to get there a little faster. That’s why your fingers quickly find your clit and start to rub. When he notices what you are doing, he groans. His hips start to move so fast, you can’t help but scream. Your fingers combined with his fast pace finally push you over that edge.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.” You repeat without thinking and he knows what that means. He can finally let go. His hands grab your waist, getting that support he needs to fuck you into the mattress. The way he moves makes you see the stars.

“Fuck, doll, I’m coming too!” Your mouth opens for a silent scream while he starts to come. The way he moans and groans fills you with pleasure, knowing you are the reason behind all of that. “Oh, god.” He keeps moving even though he’s done. He wants you to enjoy your orgasm till the last drop and you do. You let yourself thrive on every last bit of that amazing feeling.

He finally stops moving when he realizes you are done. He gently pulls himself out of you, making you whine a little, and lays right next to you. You turn to your side, facing him while still trying to calm your breathing down.

“You just ruined me,” he suddenly says.

“I ruined you? I think it’s the other way around, mister.” He’s the one who gave you three mind-blowing orgasms and he has the audacity to say this.

“I don’t think you understand.” He sounds calm yet sure. “Sex never felt this amazing before.”

His words make you giggle a little but you are aware he’s right. It never felt this good before him and there’s no way you can go back.

“You are a thief.”

“Me? A thief?” Your words catch him off guard.

“Yep, you are stealing my thoughts and presenting them as yours.”

“So it was that good for you too?”

��My mind is blown. You have no idea.” That gives him the biggest grin.

“Does that mean you will let me take you on a date?”

“What date?” You play dumb. You know exactly what he means but you want him to actually ask.

“You know what date.”

“Nope, I don’t. I haven’t been asked on a date for ages.”

He grabs your hand and looks directly into your eyes. “Will you go on a date with me, doll?”

“Of course, I will, with pleasure.” And that makes him laugh.

“Yep, a lot of pleasure.”

“Shit!” You suddenly jump.

“What?” He sounds so worried.

“Our exam!” You completely forgot about it. “We were supposed to study!”

“We still have time.” He tries to calm you down. “Just lie down a little until you catch your breath. We have Faye’s notes, remember? It’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Oh, yeah.” You remember Faye’s notes. It suddenly changes your mood.

“Are you okay?” He immediately notices.

“Yeah, I’m fine. We are lucky we have her notes.” You try not to sound bitter but it doesn’t work. He sees right through it.

“Remind me to thank her tomorrow.” You feel the jealousy build up inside you because you know it doesn’t matter how much you beg, Faye never shares her notes, and Bucky managing to convince her could mean only one thing.

“Yeah, I should thank her too.”

“You definitely should.” He watches how your expression changes after his words and his smile grows.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Nothing. I just love seeing you get jealous for nothing.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Sure, that’s why you look like you wanna stab her a couple of times.”

“No, I don’t.” You deny it at first, but you can see he doesn’t believe you. “I just… know that she doesn’t share her notes with anyone. She must have a crush on you. Which is understandable.”

“Is it?” He’s still smiling like a fool.

“Are you seriously enjoying this?” You are getting so angry that you try to move away from the bed but Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Let me go!”

“There’s nothing to get jealous about, doll.” He sees you don’t believe him. “I only have eyes for you and that’s what I said to Faye to convince her to give me her notes.”

“What?”

“I told her I want to ask you out, but I wanna impress you with this study date first. She thought it was a great idea and shared her notes with me.”

“I thought this wasn’t a study date.” You remember him denying it was.

“Well, after everything that happened…” He gives you a look that screams sex. “I think we can finally call it a study date.” Those words give you the biggest grin.

“Can we have more study dates like this?”

“Anytime you want, doll. I’m at your service.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #my stories #college bucky barnes #college bucky barnes x reader

2K notes · View notes