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em1i2a3 · 6 days ago

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Crying Lightning

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolt!Lab Tech!Fem!Reader!

Summary: You have been studying a flower that Bucky brought back from one of his missions. When Bob comes to visit you in the labs to bring you lunch and messes with the unbloomed item you realize the sinister effects of it very quickly.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI! Ahem…We got a sex pollen fic, so there is smut, and fluff afterwards, and aftercare as well. Reader and Bob are close, and both of them have feelings for one another but it has all gone unspoken…Until now at least lol. There is swearing too.

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (…Y’all know what I’m gonna say. Wrap it up), Fingering, Oral Sex (fem! Receiving), Handjob, There’s a little bit of dominance from Bob/Sentry…And he talks you through it ahhahahahahah (oh god), Messy/Sensual Sex, There are like hints of primal energy sprinkled in here, but nothing too major, there’s mentioning of pheromones and stuff like that, Praise/Worship Kink, Spitting, Dirty Talk, Scratching, Some Choking (not rough), Cum eating, Aftercare.

Author’s Note: Woot Woot! We love a good sex pollen fic lol. Did I expect to be writing one? No. But I’ve always liked the concept and I’m so glad @mccinnamon-bun asked me to do this! Thank you <3, I really loved writing it! So so fun! Enjoy!

Word Count: 15,684

“I brought you something,” Bucky announced, stepping into your lab just as the doors slid open with their usual quiet hiss.

You didn’t look up right away. Perched cross-legged on the edge of your workbench, you were half-buried in mission reports that were a week overdue, scribbling notes with one hand and nursing a cold cup of coffee in the other. Your head snapped up, however, the second you heard the rustle of fabric and gear–a familiar sound you’d grown used to distinguishing in crowded hallways.

Bucky stood in the entryway, wind-tousled and still in partial tactical gear. The sleeves of his black shirt were pushed up to the elbows, revealing the flex of muscle and dull gleam of vibranium beneath. He had a look in his eye that was hard to read–half sheepish, half pleased with himself–and he was already fishing through one of the many compartments in his bag. He didn’t speak again until he pulled something out with a sort of slow care.

”Ta da.” You raised an eyebrow at him, seeing him pull something from his bag like it was a treasure he’d smuggled across enemy lines. You hopped off the bench with a soft thud and crossed the room toward him, curiosity instantly piqued–mostly because Bucky Barnes was not one to say ‘ta da’. Not unless he was hiding something behind that half-smirk of his.

Your eyes immediately caught sight of what he was holding.

The flower hadn’t bloomed yet, but even in its dormant state, it was breathtaking. The outer petals were tightly furled, each one smooth and iridescent like the type you would find on shells of certain mollusks–but it was shaded in a gradient you couldn’t quite place. They started as an inky, oil-slick blue at the base, then rippled out into smoky violets and blushing wine tones near the tips. Delicate veins shimmered faintly across the surface, catching the lab lights with a strange metallic luster, almost like the petals were dusted in powdered silver.

The stem curved gently, a deep green tinged with gold, and the leaves were narrow, slightly translucent, and lined with fine threads of coppery red. Even when it wasn’t fully bloomed, it had an energy to it. A heat, almost. As if it were responding to the proximity of warm skin and breath. You squinted at it.

”Bucky, if this is your idea of asking me out on a date, you really need to brush up on your courting skills.” He let out a sharp bark of laughter, head dropping forward briefly with a grin.

“Hey,” He said, handing the flower over to you carefully, “You’re the one who told me, if I saw anything weird, unknown, alien, or otherwise ‘botanically suspicious,’ I should bring you back a sample.” You gingerly accepted the stem, trying not to touch the tightly closed bud itself.

”Yeah, I meant specifiers, not some interstellar looking thing.” You shot back. He leaned against a nearby counter.

”Don’t say I never do anything for you.” He commented back. You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your mouth betrayed your fondness.

”You absolutely broke every rule of containment protocol by walking this thing straight into my lab, but…” You gave the top of the flower another slow once-over, still entranced, “Thanks for thinking of me.” You turned, crossing to your bench and plucking a clean beaker from the rack. You filled it with a few inches of distilled water, and set the flower inside, watching it float just enough to stay upright. The petals didn’t open, but they flexed slightly–like they were stretching, or drinking the water you had put the stem in.

”So,” You started, glancing over your shoulder to where Bucky was still leaning, “Where’d you find it?” You asked, watching him give you a small, casual shrug.

”There was a patch of them, right off the tree line. I spotted them on my way back to the quinjet. Figured I’d snatch one up before anyone else trampled it.” You hummed, turning your head away–not noticing the way his gaze lingered on the flower for a beat too long. You were too busy cataloguing the possibilities in your head. It was too vibrant to be terrestrial, but it wasn’t necessarily alien. Possibly hybridized. The energy you felt coming off of it could’ve been psychosomatic–but you weren’t one to write something off without running tests.

“And you’re sure no one else touched them?” You asked, looking back over at him to see if you can spot any of the tells he had when he was lying. His brow lifted toward you.

”I mean…I touched one obviously.” You gave him a pointed look, and he immediately held up both hands.

”Didn’t eat it. Didn’t stick it up my nose. I was the only one that touched anything. Scout’s honor.” You snorted, and shook your head.

”Alright, Barnes…I’ll bite. I’ll run some diagnostics. Spectrograph, chemical composition, basic pollen analysis when it blooms…All the sciencey things that you don’t understand, then I’ll get back to you.” He gave you a mock salute and pushed himself off the table he was leaning against, going toward the door.

”Just make sure you name it after me if it ends up trying to kill you.”

”Noted,” You called, “But if it ends up giving me superpowers instead, I’ll be naming it after myself.” He was still laughing as the door slid shut behind him. You turned back to the flower, now gently swirling in the water–its petals flexing once more, as if hearing your voice. You leaned in just a touch, and breathed in slightly.

You could’ve sworn it hadn’t smelled like anything before, but now…

Now it smelled faintly of summer rain, citrus, and the soft trace of jasmine. It was warm, soft, and inviting, like it was trying to beckon you to come closer to it. You straightened slowly, then reached blindly across the workbench for a spare sheet of scrap paper, grabbing the pen you had tucked behind your ear.

”Initial scent: None. Notable change after water exposure–New profile: humid, citrus notes, floral base (jasmine like). Unsettling–shift occurred in under two minutes.” You tapped the end of your pen lightly against your chin, your gaze never leaving the beaker. The flower was still half-closed, petals fluttering slightly in the water like they were breathing–like they were aware. The surface tension of the liquid shimmered faintly around the base of the stem, as though reacting to something within the plant.

You didn’t like that.

Flowers didn’t just change their chemical profile that fast. Not unless they were highly volatile. Not unless they were engineered.

A muscle tensed along your jaw.

You slid the note aside and moved quickly now, grabbing a glass containment dome from one of the side drawers–a heat-tempered cloche you typically used when running long-term decay tests on bio-samples. It wasn’t hermetically sealed, but it would be enough to contain most airborne particulates.

Just in case.

You placed it gently over the beaker and the flower with practiced care, watching as the edges sealed against the bench with a soft thunk. The scent dimmed immediatel-ybut didn’t vanish. It clung to the air like it had already soaked into the fibers of your clothes, your skin.

You took a step back, and another, suddenly aware of the way the heat of the room felt a degree too warm.

Your eyes narrowed. You made another note.

“Mild thermal increase noted (subjective). Investigate potential volatile compounds. Possible synthetic ancestry. Unknown reaction to water exposure–possible activation trigger?”

You stood still for a moment longer, arms crossed over your chest now, staring at the flower like it might start humming.

Then you exhaled through your nose, gave your head a small shake, and muttered, “Okay, mystery plant. Let’s see what you’re hiding.”

You turned on your heel and crossed to the far side of the lab, grabbing gloves, pipettes, and a test slide. You didn’t see the way the petals quivered beneath the glass dome. Or the way the center of the bud pulsed–slowly, rhythmically–as if something within it had begun to wake.

You were too busy prepping your tools.

You’d get your first sample from the outermost edge of the petal, where a small amount of condensation had begun to form–right where the flower had interacted with the water. It wasn’t much. Just enough to suggest a subtle chemical discharge. A secretion, maybe. Or pollen.

Your gloved fingers hovered just beside the dome.

You paused.

A thought scratched quietly at the back of your mind, the way instincts sometimes do when they’re not fully formed.

You didn’t ignore it.

You stepped back again.

Instead of removing the dome outright, you retrieved your small fume extractor arm—used mostly for soldering–and wheeled it over until its head hovered just above the cloche’s apex. You flicked the switch, and a soft hum filled the room as the extractor began to filter the air directly above the sample.

Another note:

“Smell is still detectable after containment. Strong. Possibly psychoactive. Proceeding with caution.”

Still, despite your wariness, you found yourself walking back toward the glass.

One more glance. Just to be sure.

The flower was still closed–but now its bud looked fuller. Like it had begun to swell. One of the petals had unfurled the tiniest bit. Barely a sliver.

But just enough for you to see a glint of gold pollen resting in the shadows of its center.

It shimmered like dust caught in a sunbeam.

You stared.

And then, carefully, you reached over to your comm unit and tapped the call button for your assistant team over in the biocontainment lab.

“Hey,” You said when the line clicked open, voice low. “I’ve got a…Weird one. Found by Barnes. It’s stable, but I want a second containment unit prepped in case things escalate.”

A pause on the line. Then:

“Escalate how?”

You glanced back at the flower. That scent. That impossible shimmer. You didn’t know yet.

“Just…Prep it,” You replied. “I’ll send over a sample in a few.”

And then you muted the line.

You looked down at the flower one more time.

It was no longer just beautiful.

It was waiting.

———————

It had been three days since Bucky dropped the flower off, and by this time it had bloomed. Not delicately, and certainly not in the way flowers usually did–with gradual graceful predictability. No. This thing had opened like it knew it was being watched and studied by you.

When you came down to your lab the morning after Bucky brought you the mysterious flower, the petals had fully unfurled–broad, sweeping things with a high-gloss sheen and hypnotic gradients that shifted from gold to scarlet to bruise-dark purple depending on the light. The stamen in its center now pulsed visibly, a slow inhale-exhale rhythm that made the entire structure look…Alive. The pollen shimmered every time it moved, a near-invisible cloud that never seemed to settle but floated in still air like it was defying gravity. Or logic.

You had kept it sealed tight under the reinforced cloche, and had the triple-filtered vents on and the entire section of the lab cordoned off with containment protocols. Your notes had doubled in size, and still, nothing definitive had come back from the biocontainment team. There were just vague updates telling you that they were behind on other specimens and that they would get around to it when they could.

So you worked around it. You monitored. You wrote. You catalogued symptoms–your own included, though they were still annoyingly ambiguous: mild temperature spikes, random surges of adrenaline, difficulty concentrating in bursts. But no rash, no lesions, no hallucinations. There was a kind of pressure, similar to urgency but just on the cusp of it, desire maybe–but for what, you had no clue. You had only inhaled a bit of the pollen and hadn’t been exposed since, so you didn’t dwell on it–not with your schedule stacked, and not with your own lab being as backed up as it was.

You were just rinsing a pipette when the door to the lab slid open with a soft hiss.

”H-Hey,” Came the voice you’d come to recognize more easily than your own thoughts lately. You didn’t need to look up to know that it was Bob, but you did anyways, just to catch a glimpse of him.

He was towering and soft-shouldered in a dark grey hoodie with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows, worn sweatpants hugging the curve of his hips, and his crown of light brown hair was in absolute disarray, like he had it tied up and decided to let the locks fall free in front of his face. He looked like someone who didn’t have the slightest clue what he did to people around him, and he truly didn’t know.

The plastic takeout bag in his hand swung gently as he stepped inside, smiling at you like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Brought y-you lunch.” Your stomach growled at the word lunch, and it echoed through the moment of silence that settled between you, which only made Bob’s grin stretch wider.

”Let me guess,” You started, pulling off your gloves and throwing them into the biohazard bin, “You timed this perfectly because you knew my stomach would start making monstrous noises, didn’t you?”He shrugged, with a small smirk on his face, setting the bag down on your cleared desk near one of your monitors.

”You skipped b-breakfast.” You held out a finger.

”No no…I postponed breakfast.” He shook his head.

”You always p-postpone breakfast,” He said, moving past you to pour you a cup of water from the cooler, his big hands making it look smaller than what it actually was, “And if I d-dont show up with something d-decent by 2 p.m, you would just end up inhaling the vending machine c-crackers and freeze-dried apple s-slices…Which is not s-sustainable i-in the slightest.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his comments.

”Seems like someone has been watching me a bit too closely.” He turned and handed you the water, fingers brushing yours as he didn. His hands were boiling as usual, and it left the paper cup feeling warm from where his fingers had been holding it. His eyes lingered on your face a beat longer than necessary.

”I-I always watch you c-closely,” He said softly, like it slipped out before he could catch it. Immediately his eyes glanced down away from you, dropping to the floor for a second, before flicking away toward the cluttered end of your bench like he suddenly remembered a far more interesting smudge on the tile. His cheeks were red–not just a flush, not just a tinge, but a slow bloom of color climbing from the collar of his hoodie up to the tips of his ears.

You said nothing in response. Not because you didn’t notice–because you did. More because if you said anything, if you so much as looked at him with any kind of expression that acknowledged the truth buried in his voice, he might self-destruct on the spot. So instead, you took a slow sip of the water he handed you, letting the quiet hum of the lab fill the air between the both of you.

Then you turned on your heel toward the takeout bag.

”So what’s on the menu today, Chef Bob?” You asked lightly, pulling the plastic open and peeking inside, “Please tell me it’s not another one of your hot dog stir-fry’s.” He let out a groan.

”Listen…I-It was one time, I-I know nobody was a fan of it.” You grinned as you pulled out a tinfoil-wrapped container, unraveling it with careful fingers. A rich, savoury scent wafted up–soy and sesame and something sweet under it, like cane sugar with more of a freshness that was unexpected, “So what am I looking at?”

”Sticky rice, soy-glazed chicken, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, “T-There’s some grated g-granny smith apple in the glaze…C-Cause I didn’t have honey.” You raised your eyebrows.

”Pretty decent alternative.” You replied.

”Yeah,” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them, “You know how S-Sentry gets with processed s-sugars in his system. Makes him a-all buzzy.” You let out a soft laugh.

”So this is officially Sentry-approved, then?”

“F-For the most part,” He mumbled, “I-I think you’re the real t-test though.” That made you pause, glancing up at him, still holding the half-unwrapped meal in your hands, finding his gaze had landed on you again. This time it held something quiet but vulnerable. Expectant, even. Like he really cared what you thought.

And that was the difference between Bob and everyone else–you knew he didn’t make things just to impress. He made them because it gave him joy to offer them. He brought you food not because he wanted credit–but because he worried you wouldn’t eat otherwise. He brought you books because he remembered which ones made your eyes light up. He let you take his blood every month without protest, even when the Sentry made his pulse unpredictable or his veins hard to find, because he trusted you with every part of him–even that. And because of those little things, you always made sure to praise him.

Even when he burned the eggs.

Even when the pasta came out overcooked.

Even when the hot dog stir-fry almost gave you heartburn.

You forked a bite of the rice and chicken, chewed, and let your eyes widen a bit as the warmth hit your tongue. “Okay. Wait. This is actually good.”

He blinked, caught between shock and a smile. “Y-you don’t have to lie.”

“I would lie,” You said, pointing at him with your fork. “But not this convincingly. This? Bob. It’s delicious.” He looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with the praise. He rocked back slightly on his heels, running a hand through his already-messy hair, trying to hide the shy little grin that was pulling at the corners of his mouth. You watched the way his fingers threaded through the strands, the way his forearms flexed under the soft stretch of the hoodie.

You took another bite and leaned against the counter beside him, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

“Y’know,” You said between chews, “If Val found out you were secretly good at this, she’d start expecting meals during debriefs.”

”She’d want a report first,” He said, playing along, “T-Then she’d make Walker taste it for poison.” The both of you laughed lightly. The silence that followed was companionable. Safe. You brushed your shoulder lightly against his as you leaned forward to set the food container down beside the monitor.

His body went still at the contact.

Not because he didn’t want it. But because he did. You knew that reaction well by now–the micro-freeze, the way he’d let the warmth of your hand or arm settle into him like he was still learning he could have it. That it was for him.

You let your arm linger against his for just a second longer.

Then you pulled back, slow and easy.

He looked at you from the side of his eye. His voice was low when he spoke.

”H-How’s the flower?” You glanced toward the containment dome instinctively. The petals shimmered under the harsh lab light, colors shifting in slow gradients like they were part of something fluid, something still breathing. It looked even larger today. Full-bodied. Restless.

“Still haven’t heard anything back from the biocontainment lab,” You said, turning back to Bob and picking up your fork again. “Apparently they’re still backed up from the Skrull fungus incident.”

His face pulled slightly. “God…D-Don’t remind me of t-that.” You nodded grimly.

“I won’t…But this?” You took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “No movement. Just… opened. Big. Loudly. Like it knew I was looking at it.” Bob followed your glance as you continued to speak, “I breathed in a little bit of the pollen when I first got it–just a trace. It made me really warm. Flushed. But otherwise nothing dramatic. No side effects. No changes. So I think it was just my body reacting to whatever compound it’s putting off–probably a weird hybridization. Something experimental maybe.” Bob’s brow furrowed at this comment.

”You s-should’ve been wearing a m-mask.” You huffed a laugh, nudging your shoulder into his again.

”Please, I’m pretty sure I’ve been exposed to worse.”

“S-Sure,” He said quietly, his gaze fixed on you now, “B-But definitely not like this.” There was something layered in his voice—concern wrapped around protectiveness, softened by something you didn’t dare name.

You didn’t say anything to it. Just took another bite of the meal he made, let the flavor distract you from how closely he was watching you now. He shifted beside you, and you knew it was only a matter of time before–

“How’s the Golden God doing, by the way…Totally forgot to ask.” Bob rolled his eyes, “You know you’ve got bloodwork today, and I know how much he looks forward to that.” He grimaced.

”D-Darn…I f-forgot that was today.”

“You always forget,” You mumbled between bites, mockingly stern in tone, “Even though we’ve had the same schedule for, what–eight months?”

“Nine,” He corrected, “You count too?”

“Only because I have to track your blood chemistry, Bob.” He gave you a crooked smile, “Stick around,” You said waving your fork at him, “Let me finish this delicious lunch and I’ll get everything set up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave you a faux salute, backing off to give you space. You watched him for a moment out of the corner of your eye as he wandered slowly around the perimeter of the lab, hands in his pockets, shoulders soft beneath his hoodie.

Bob moved like someone who didn’t want to disturb anything. Not just the tools and data, but you–your space, your rhythm, your day. Even now, when he stopped in front of the containment dome, he didn’t lean close or peer in like most people would’ve. He just stood there, quietly watching.

The flower didn’t move. But the pulsing in its center seemed to slow, slightly. Steadying. As if recognizing something.

Bob tilted his head faintly.

But said nothing.

You finished your lunch in a few final bites, wiped your hands on a cloth, and pulled on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves.

“All right,” You called, walking over to the locked cabinet beside your centrifuge. “Time to sacrifice a little plasma for science.”

Bob grumbled playfully as he headed back toward the stool you always set aside for him during these sessions. “Sentry’s gonna make it d-difficult again. Last time you had to chase the vein for like five minutes.”

“Oh how could I forget,” You said playfully, drawing the phlebotomy kit from the drawer, “I’ve never met a God who’s afraid of needles. He flared your heart rate on purpose and kicked the adrenaline response. Your veins were literally jumping.” Bob winced at the memory and sighed.

”I-I don’t think he m-means to be a jerk a-about it.”

“No, he just is,” You turned with a teasing smile and raised your brow, “You listening in there Sentry, I called you a jerk.” A flicker of gold passed through Bob’s eyes, and his expression shifted just slightly. A pressure just beneath the surface of his calm exterior. You saw the way his jaw flexed. The way his breath caught on the edge of a heartbeat. It was gone just as fast as it appeared. You gestured to the stool.

”Alright, you know the drill.” Bob sighed and tugged his hoodie over his head with one hand, letting it fall across the nearby stool in a heap of worn fabric and static-charged threads.

Your breath caught for just a second–not that you’d ever admit it.

He was wearing a plain white t-shirt underneath. Simple, but it didn’t leave much to the imagination. The fabric clung in all the places that mattered: broad shoulders, a narrow waist, the gentle taper of his torso. His arms were sculpted, the muscle built from the serum and his own training he did on the side with Walker–solid biceps veined faintly beneath pale skin, his forearms thick and freckled with golden hairs. Even through the shirt, you could see the subtle rise of his chest when he breathed. His body wasn’t exaggerated or showy like some of the other enhanced agents. Bob’s strength was honest, clean and quiet. The kind that didn’t beg to be seen–just was. He sat on the stool, leaned slightly forward, and offered you his right arm without hesitation–palm up, wrist relaxed, fingers curling just slightly where they hung over the edge of your tray. As always, he was warm. Always a degree or two above everyone else. Like the Sentry lived just beneath the surface, pulsing against the skin.

You pulled your chair close and gently cradled his arm in one gloved hand, “You good?” He nodded, jaw ticking faintly.

”Sentry’s a-already getting stirred u-up.”

“I figured,” You murmured, swabbing the crook of his elbow with an alcohol pad, watching the way the fine blond hairs on his arm caught the light, “You twitched when I called him a jerk.” Bob exhaled a shallow breath, half-laugh, half-wince.

”Y-Yeah he–uh–didn’t like t-that.”

“Well, tell him to behave,” you said, voice softening as you spoke, instinctively adjusting your tone. You’d found, over time, that it wasn’t just what you said–but how. The Sentry didn’t respond well to authority. But he did respond to calm. To care. To you.

“I’m going to insert the needle now, okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He said quietly, “Keep talking through the process, t-that would help.” You gave him a smile–genuine and soft.

“All right…Just a little pressure here…” You slipped the butterfly needle in with smooth, practiced hands, watching the dark blood flood into the first vial like a ribbon of garnet. He didn’t flinch. His fingers curled just slightly, but that was it. You could feel the tension in him, though–not fear, not even discomfort, really.

Just a heightened presence.

You always felt it when the Sentry was nearby. Like a third set of lungs had begun breathing somewhere in the room. Like the molecules in the air shifted their charge.

“I’m taking five tubes,” You said gently. “You’re doing fine. Your blood flow is nice and steady today.”

“Y-Yeah,” Bob said, watching you with his head slightly turned. His voice had dropped to something deeper. Thicker. “That’s because o-of you.”

You glanced up.

He blinked, quickly. “Your voice. It…I-It helps.” You kept working, carefully switching out the first full tube for the second, then the third, eyes flicking to him only briefly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Or a cosmic honor. One of the two.” That got a smile out of him, even if it was small. The rest of the draw passed in familiar quiet–soft beeping from your equipment, the slow, gentle swirl of the containment fans, the hum of the overhead lights. His blood was warm in your hands. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you reached the fifth tube and carefully capped it.

You retracted the needle in one smooth motion, placing it in the sharps container before gently pressing a cotton ball to the puncture site.

“Pressure here, please.”

Bob complied, two fingers resting lightly over the spot. You retrieved a bandage, peeled it open, and pressed it into place over the cotton. Your hand lingered a second longer than it needed to. His skin was flushed warm beneath your glove. He smelled faintly of cedar and limes, probably from his shampoo. Then you leaned back in your chair and gave him a mock-serious look.

“So,” You said, cocking your head, “Does Sentry want a lollipop for his troubles?”Bob groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“D-Don’t get him riled up…” You laughed at the way his cheeks turned rosy again, as he attempted to hold back a smile, which failed.

”You sure?” You teased, “You don’t want me to pull out the glittery sticker chart?”

“W-We talked about this…He remembers t-things like that.” You both burst into soft laughter again, the kind that curled at the edges of your ribs and left everything just a little lighter.

And somewhere behind you, the flower twitched.

The petals shifted.

The pulse in its center matched his heartbeat.

But neither of you noticed.

——————

The next day, just after 2:00 p.m., the soft hiss of the lab doors made your head snap up again.

You were halfway through a long-winded notation on the flower’s latest chromatographic analysis when you heard the now-familiar rustle of footsteps and the unmistakable creak of someone cradling a takeout bag with too much care.

“Brought you lunch!” Bob announced.

He looked warm again–an oversized hoodie only blue this time, the same worn sweatpants from yesterday, and hair pulled back messily like he’d tied it in a rush. His free hand shoved deep into his pocket, but the other held a paper bag from a café you liked downtown. He wore the same small, crooked smile that made it difficult to think straight.

“Careful,” You warned playfully, turning in your seat to face him, “If you keep feeding me, I’ll start to expect this kind of treatment.”

Bob shrugged, walking in slow, casual steps toward your workstation. “M-might be worth it…Just to s-see you eat.”

You smiled at that–too caught up in the rare softness between you to notice the way the flower behind its containment dome had begun to stir.

Not much. Just a twitch of its outermost petals. A subtle change in the shimmer of its stamen. But you were facing Bob. You didn’t see the way it reacted to his voice.

“I-I got you the g-grain bowl you like. The one with roasted squash, the f-feta, that spicy vinaigrette you always try to recreate in your lab notebook–”

“I do not take vinaigrette notes in here,” You interjected, grinning.

Bob set the bag down gently on the corner of your cleared space shaking his head at you, glancing over at the dome just as the hum of your equipment shifted slightly. The air changed. Subtle, at first. Like something pressurizing behind glass.

He leaned over–only just–peering closer at the flower inside.

That was all it took.

The dome fogged instantly with a pale gold haze. Then–without warning–the containment glass shuddered with a sharp, pinging sound, like internal pressure had snapped a seal.

Then it ruptured.

The top of the cloche blew off with a muted pop, and a cloud of glittering golden dust erupted from the flower in a slow-motion burst. It expanded like fog, like breath in cold air–drifting, floating–straight into Bob’s face.

You froze for half a second. Then your instincts kicked in hard and fast.

“Shit—Bob!” You yelled, already leaping from your stool and hitting the emergency switch on the wall.

Red lights flashed as the isolation protocols kicked in. Vents slammed shut with a metallic clank, and the air filtration units hummed to life. Your console blinked through a security override as the lab sealed itself airtight. Your heart thudded in your chest like a drumbeat.

Bob had staggered back, coughing hard and pawing at his face, blinking rapidly. The golden dust coated his cheeks, his lashes, the curve of his nose, and clung to his stubble like cosmic pollen. It shimmered with a strange, otherworldly sheen–like it was alive, almost.

“Hey–hey–Bob, come here.” You grabbed him gently but firmly by the wrist, leading him toward the decontamination corner. “Don’t rub your eyes. Just come with me. You’re okay, just–just keep breathing.”

He nodded, still coughing, blinking fast. “I-it got in m-my face–feels like sand, b-but–s-sticky, maybe–” He stumbled slightly as you pushed the lever on the eyewash station.

“Lean in,” You ordered, voice steady. “Both hands on the sides. I’m gonna guide you.” You pressed the large silver button. The twin streams of water erupted instantly, and he hissed through clenched teeth as the cold hit. You steadied him, one hand braced on his lower back as he tilted forward.

”Keep blinking,” You instructed, “Get it flushed out. It’s probably just pollen but I can’t take chances, we still don’t know what that stuff is.”

“It’s–f-fine,” he said, spitting water out, breath hitching. “It doesn’t b-burn, just f-feels weird–” His voice was strained, breathless. You didn’t like the way his skin had started to pink at the edges, how the golden dust had clung even beneath his collar.

When the two-minute flush was over, you helped him lean back slowly, grabbing a towel from the stack nearby and pressing it gently to his face.

“We’re not done yet,” You said, pulling a second towel out and pressing it to the back of his neck. “Blow your nose. Three times. Then cough hard. I want that stuff out of your lungs if you inhaled any of it.”

He obeyed without protest, still coughing lightly between ragged breaths. The dust had left faint shimmer marks down the front of his hoodie, now slightly wet from the eyewash station. You reached over to the wall unit, flipped on the emergency fan array, and turned your console back toward manual override. The air slowly began to cycle through a localized carbon scrubbing system.

You turned back to him, grabbing a disposable cloth and wiping under his jaw, where a little gold still shimmered. His eyes were red-rimmed but clear. Breathing shallow, but not distressed.

You stepped back, hands braced on your hips, the overhead scrubbers humming louder now as the first cycle of filtered air began to push through the sealed lab.

Bob sat perched on the deacon bench, towel still clutched in his hands, his lashes dripping, cheeks damp, and glittered with flecks of gold the eyewash hadn’t quite cleared. He looked flushed–not sick, not distressed–just… warm. Lit from within, like something in him was beginning to glow. But you didn’t let yourself think about that.

Not yet.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, kneeling slightly so you were more at eye level with him, voice softening as you scanned his face for any irregularities. “Are you dizzy? Lightheaded? Anything weird?”

Bob blinked slowly, the water still dripping off the tips of his hair as he met your gaze.

“N-No…” He murmured, voice rough with lingering grit, “Just…Feel kinda like I s-snorted fairy dust.” He gave a weak little smile. “M-might be glowing in the dark now.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a half-relieved breath, giving him a playful–but firm–swat to the arm.

“This isn’t funny. You know we have to be in isolation for twenty-four hours now, right?”

Bob groaned, slumping back slightly against the bench. “Ugh. Great. Cool. L-love that.” You crossed your arms.

“We’re both trapped in here. With no way out. The lab is in full lockdown. Airlocked. Everything. Biocontainment protocol 9A.” He sighed, tilting his head toward you dramatically. “

It’s not like we don’t already spend the majority of our free time together or anything.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Don’t act like this is some cozy movie night. You almost got yourself pollinated into another dimension.” Your voice was softer now. More affectionate, more playful. Your gaze dropped briefly–to the faint shimmer still clinging to the edge of his collarbone–and that’s when you noticed it.

You looked down at yourself.

Tiny flecks of gold sparkled faintly across your sleeves, dusted across the dark wool of your sweater and even the collar of your lab coat. The stuff was finer than you thought–so fine you’d barely felt it settle.

“Shit.”

“What?” Bob asked, alarmed.

You pulled your lab coat off immediately, shrugging out of it and tossing it into the nearest biohazard bin. Your sweater followed next, leaving you in the tank top you had underneath–thin, breathable, already damp with nervous sweat. The cold air bit at your arms, but it was better than risking more exposure. You grabbed a clean disposable mask from the supply drawer and tugged it on.

“You got exposed?” Bob asked, sitting up straighter.

You gave him a wry look as you reached for a pair of gloves. “You think that cloud only wanted you?”

He flushed again and shifted where he sat. “S-Sorry…”

“Not your fault,” you said quickly. “You didn’t provoke it.”

Bob’s eyes slid to the corner of the lab where the flower still sat in its shattered dome, motionless now, but unmistakably altered–its petals twitching like cooling muscles, the last of the pollen still floating down like it hadn’t quite obeyed gravity yet.

You pointed to his hoodie.

“That’s gotta come off too.”

He blinked. “W-What?”

“Bob. Your hoodie is covered. You’re basically wearing a glitter bomb.”

“Oh…Right.” He looked down at himself and, reluctantly, peeled the hoodie off over his head, careful not to shake loose any more of the clinging dust. The fabric crackled softly as the static gave way. You moved forward with a biohazard bag already open and waiting.

“Drop it in,” you said, and he obeyed, his white T-shirt riding up slightly with the movement. You caught a glimpse of pale skin, faint golden freckles across his lower ribs, the subtle cut of his hip. You averted your eyes quickly, pretending not to notice.

But he noticed.

You didn’t speak for a beat.

Then:

“Okay,” you said, stepping back with the sealed bag in hand, “Contaminated clothing secured. Isolation timer has started. We’ve got twenty-four hours to kill and a potentially sentient flower that just gas-bombed the strongest man on Earth.”

Bob blinked at you, then gave the tiniest smirk.

“Th-this gonna be in the report?”

“Oh, absolutely,” You muttered, deadpan. “‘Subject A leaned into mysterious glowing flower. Subject B now has fairy glitter in her bra.’”

He laughed. Harder than you expected. The sound echoed softly in the sealed room and you let it hang there for a moment. Eventually his laughter faded, but the heat that was beginning to build in the lab didn’t.

It wasn’t just the tension between you anymore–it was physical. Palpable. You could feel it crawling along the inside of your spine like static. Your skin felt…Tight. Like your clothes were holding in too much warmth. Like the fabric of your tank top was suddenly too heavy in all the wrong places and far too light in others.

You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, hoping it would pass, but it didn’t.

Bob was still sitting on the bench, towel now draped loosely across his lap, chest rising and falling more steadily than before–but even from a few feet away, you could see the faint shine of sweat beginning to gather at the hollow of his throat.

You squinted slightly.

“Is it just me,” You said slowly, brushing a strand of hair off your neck, “Or is it…Hot in here?”

Bob lifted his head toward you, blinking slowly. His cheeks were still pink–flushed in that way people only got when they were either just out of a fever or just getting into something much more compromising.

“I-I thought it was just me,” He said, adjusting how he sat. “I figured the air filters w-weren’t moving much cool air yet. It’s… It’s an enclosed space, so…” He trailed off, eyes catching briefly on your arms, the exposed slope of your collarbone, and then darting away again, as if ashamed of the glance.

You nodded, trying to focus–but it was getting harder. Your tank top clung to the skin beneath your ribs like a second layer of sweat-dampened silk. You could feel the heat collecting at your lower back, a slow, stoked furnace of warmth that wasn’t just the room. Your breathing shifted slightly. Shallower.

There was a kind of pressure building behind your sternum. An ache–not painful, not sharp. Just…Present. Gnawing. Low in your belly. You cleared your throat.

“Do you feel weird?” You asked, keeping your voice as casual as you could. “Like… more than just warm? Any lightheadedness? Sensory changes?” Bob didn’t answer right away. His shoulders rolled back slowly, and his hand came up to drag across the back of his neck. You watched the way his palm moved over the sweat-damp strands of hair, the tension in his forearm, the way his biceps flexed just slightly under the tight stretch of cotton.

He wasn’t looking at you now. But his voice was quiet when he answered.

“M-My heart rate i-is up,” He admitted. “But I d-don’t feel sick. I just feel–” He stopped. Swallowed. Then: “Wound up. I-it’s like I’ve been waiting for something to happen and m-my body’s just trying to stay ahead of it.” You stared at him, hearing as he listed out the same symptoms you were feeling.

Then there was the ache again–twisting low and slow, enough to make you shift your thighs closer together without thinking. You noticed the way Bob’s eyes tracked the motion and immediately flicked away. His chest was rising faster now. His jaw clenched, breath audible through his nose. Something was happening. Something chemical, something hormonal. Something Induced.

You took a slow breath, then glanced at the ruined containment dome, the flower sitting quietly like nothing had happened. Its stamen pulsed gently, and the last wisps of pollen still hovered in the filtered air like gold-lit ghosts.

”You said it didn’t burn when the pollen hit…” You murmured, “Just felt weird…Right?” He nodded slowly, eyes flicking toward your face, then to your mouth, then away. You swallowed hard, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead. ”How weird?”

Bob exhaled a shaky breath. His hands flexed against his thighs, fingers twitching.

“It just felt really…Light,” he rasped. “Like ash. N-Not like sand–softer. Barely even there. But now–” He trailed off, and when he looked at you, it was like being seen for the first time. His pupils were blown wide, only a thin ring of ocean-blue clinging to the edge. His voice lowered.

“Now I feel like my skin is on fire. L-Like I’m burning…And everything’s so damn sensitive. I c-can’t stop–” His voice cracked, “–I can’t stop looking at you.” Your breath caught. The ache between your legs deepened sharply, twisting upward through your belly like someone had plucked a string that now hummed through your bones. The realization slammed into you with full force. The heat. The ache. The scent. The shimmer. The reaction.

Fuck. You staggered backward from the bench slightly and slapped your hand down on the comm panel by the edge of your lab table, hitting the line for Bucky.

“Come on, come on, pick up–”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s voice crackled over the line. “What’s up?”

“Bucky,” You said, trying to steady your breathing. “Where exactly were you when you found that flower? Be specific. What were the surroundings?”

“I told you, it was near the tree line,” He answered, confused. “On the way back from the ridge. Why?”

“Was there anything else? Anything that stood out?”

There was a pause. Then, “Uh…There was kind of a–garden? Like, a bunch of them. Just a whole patch. Maybe fifty or sixty, I dunno, they were all clumped together.”Another pulse of heat ripped through your core, and you clenched your thighs, biting back a soft, involuntary groan. You half-collapsed, catching yourself on the table edge before sliding down the side of it, pressing your forehead into your forearm.

“Where were they, Bucky?” You grit out through clenched teeth. “Was there a lab? A compound? A goddamn marker on the ground–anything?”

“What? Y/N, I don’t–wait, there was a lab…But it wasn’t even close. Maybe two miles east of it. Looked abandoned. You think it’s connected?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, voice rough, stomach clenching. Your vision was starting to blur around the edges. “That’s not wild growth, Buck. That’s a planted field. That was cultivated. You brought me a fucking bioweapon.”

There was silence.

Bob had shifted, and when you looked up, he was no longer on the bench. He had crouched behind one of the heavy lab tables on the far end of the room, head bowed, palms braced hard against the floor like he was praying—or like he was trying to hold himself together.

“I-it’s getting worse,” he called out, voice hoarse and echoing faintly off the tile. “I—I can feel it in my hands, my back—like I’m buzzing from the inside out. You need to go to another room, Y/N. Please. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going to happen—”

“There is no other room,” you snapped, clutching your own torso, fingers digging into your tank top like it could peel the sensation off your skin. “We’re sealed in. Remember? Isolation. Twenty-four hours.”

You turned back to the comm, swallowing back the pulse building low in your belly. “Bucky, something happened in that lab. This isn’t just a flower. It’s engineered—enhanced. There’s pheromone manipulation in the pollen. Maybe synthetic hormones. We both got exposed.”

“What kind of exposure?”

You hesitated.

Then you exhaled shakily, voice lowering. “The worst kind. I think it’s… I think it’s sex pollen, Bucky.”

A beat of stunned silence on the other end. Then:

“…You’re shitting me.”

“I wish I was,” you hissed, grinding the heel of your hand into your temple, heart pounding. “And unless I get a suppressant cocktail in the next thirty minutes, I’m going to lose it.”

“What about Bob?”

You turned your head just slightly toward where Bob was crouched, shaking. His knuckles had gone white.

“He’s already losing it,” You whispered.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing,” you said, too fast. “Just…We’re locked in for twenty-four hours. There’s nothing anyone can do. Just… Just keep the others out. Don’t let anyone near the door.”

There was a long pause. Then Bucky’s voice dropped.

“Y/N. What exactly happened in there?”

You clenched your jaw and gave the only answer you could.

“I’ll tell you if we survive it.” Then you hung up the comm, bracing your hands on your knees as the ache spread like wildfire across your thighs, your chest, the hollow between your hips. Everything was overstimulated–fabric too rough, air too dry, skin too tight.

And then there was Bob.

You looked up slowly, panting now, vision swimming with heat and color. You could barely see his face in the shadow of the bench, but you heard his voice.

“I-It’s in me,” he said quietly. “Whatever it is. I can feel it in m-my blood. My skin feels like it’s too small. I’m–I’m shaking. I c-can’t stop it.” His breath hitched, voice breaking apart. “I can smell you. I c-can hear your heart. I can feel every molecule in this goddamn r-room. God, what is this stuff?” You were already dragging yourself across the floor, crawling on hands and knees to the nearest storage cabinet, yanking open drawers for anything–anything–that might help regulate internal chemistry. You were half-crazed with heat, sweat dripping between your shoulder blades, your whole body lit up like it had been set on fire from the inside.

“Okay,” you muttered, teeth clenched. “We’re gonna–we’re gonna figure this out. Just don’t come near me, Bob. Not yet.”

You couldn’t see him now, but you heard the thick, wet swallow from where he hid behind the bench.

“I w-won’t,” He rasped. “But…If you don’t figure it out soon…” His voice was barely audible now. “…I d-don’t know if I’m gonna b-be able to stop myself.” The words weren’t loud. They weren’t cruel. But they hit you like a blow to the chest. A sharp pulse rippled through your core–your muscles tensed like a wire had snapped in your belly. The ache between your legs twisted again, hot and hungry, and a broken sound escaped your lips before you could stop it.

A whimper. Soft, shaken, and needy.

”Shut up,” You gasped, your voice hoarse with panic and arousal, hand bracing against the cabinet, “Just…Stop talking, Bob please…Your voice. Fuck sake.” Another wave of heat surged under your skin like a current of electricity. You curled slightly into yourself, arms trembling, every breath catching high in your throat.

“I–I’m sorry,” Bob groaned from across the room, his voice cracking with guilt and something far darker. You heard him shift, heard the thump of his back hit the cabinet behind him like he’d braced himself against it, like he couldn’t trust his limbs to obey. He let out a loud breath, shuddering.

”G-God, I’m–I’m sorry, I c-can’t even think straight–“ His voice broke on the last word, thick with restraint. You dragged open another drawer with shaking fingers, rummaging through cold metal and sterile pouches, tossing one after the other to the side. Glucose packs. Emergency syringes. No suppressants. No hormonal regulators. Nothing for this kind of exposure.

Your vision blurred as your stomach clenched again. You could feel sweat beading at the base of your spine, making your tank top stick like a second skin. You couldn’t stop panting. Couldn’t stop trembling.

”Fuck…” You hissed, almost on the brink of sob. You slammed the drawer shut with a metallic clang, the sound too loud, echoing in the sealed lab like it was mocking you. ”I can’t–I-I can’t find anything.” You wheezed, voice cracking. You braced your hands on the cold tile, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your teeth.

The need was crawling over your skin like insects. Every breath was friction. Every shift of your body felt like dragging yourself through static. Your nipples were tight beneath your tank top, aching. You could feel your own pulse in places it didn’t belong.

“Shit–shit,” You whispered, eyes welling with frustrated tears. “Oh my god.”

Behind the bench, Bob made a low, strangled noise.

A grunt. Guttural. Desperate.

You couldn’t see him.

But you didn’t need to.

Because you could feel him.

You could feel the way the air changed when he moved. You could feel the ripple of heat that seemed to follow the sound of his voice. And worst of all–you could feel your body answering it.

Every cell in you was lit up with something heavy and humming. Something wild. Something designed.

You curled forward against the floor, pressing your forehead into your arm. You were panting now–wheezing, almos-trying to hold on. Trying not to cry.

You didn’t hear him crawl over, not until it was too late. Your breath was ragged, and your vision was swimming–and then warmth touched your arm. A large hand. Familiar. It closed over your bicep–but it lit your nerves on fire. You jerked away violently, scrambling back on instinct, collapsing onto your ass with a gasp. Your palm slammed against the tile and you skidded slightly, breath hitching as you spat out–

“Don’t touch me!” Your voice cracked, sharp and wet with panic. The motion made your spine arch, your tank top riding up slightly as your hip knocked into a rolling stool, the metal clattering away. Bob’s eyes widened in horror, hand halfway outstretched like it had betrayed him. He dropped to both knees in front of you instantly, not touching, but close enough for you to feel the warmth coming off his body like a wave.

“Y/N–” He breathed, his voice hoarse, chest heaving, “Y/N I-I feel it too, I p-promise. I feel everyth-ing” His hand hovered near your shoulder again, hesitant. Then, slowly, gently, he reached behind your neck, cradling it with a trembling touch. His fingers were hot against your skin, too hot. “Look at me. W-We’ll be okay. We’ll be o-okay.” You shook your head, lip quivering as the tears came faster now. Not the kind you could hide or blink away–these ones slid heavy and helpless down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your mouth. You were trembling all over, shoulders shaking, thighs clenching without relief.

”I-I feel like I’m dying,” You whispered, voice raw, “Fuck, Bob it’s so painful.” He nodded once, his face contorting with shared agony, as his hand slipped from the back of your neck to your jaw, like he couldn’t decide whether to hold you or let go.

“I-I know,” He rasped, his other hand gripping his thigh so hard it shook, “I-I’m burning from the inside out. I can smell y-you…I can s-smell everything–“ You swallowed, chest rising in short, hard jerks. Because so could you.

His scent was all over the room now. Thick and devastating. It rolled over you in waves—heat-warmed cedarwood, sweat, and something deeper. Instinctual. Masculine. Not cologne. Not soap. Something completely and totally him. A biological beckoning, chemical and holy and blinding.

It made your thighs twitch and your breath break.

And your own scent…You could smell it, too. Like heat-glazed citrus and clean skin. Something golden and heavy, threaded with notes of sun-warmed vanilla and fresh-cut stems. Like the wild edge of spring. It filled your nostrils, clung to your skin, hung in the air between you like a dare.

Bob’s eyes fluttered, jaw clenching again. He let out a low grunt, like the effort of staying still was costing him something visceral. His voice cracked as he spoke.

“I-Isn’t there…a-any way we can stop this f-from getting worse?” You didn’t want to say it, you really didn’t. But the truth came out anyway, scraped and raw from your throat.

”Only if…” You swallowed. Your tongue felt too thick in your mouth, “Only if we have sex…” The words dropped like a stone.

Bob’s breath hitched so hard it almost sounded like a choke. His throat bobbed, and he blinked down at you, eyes wild and dilated, dark lashes damp with sweat and desperation.

There was a pause–long and shaking.

Then, softly:

“W-Would it be t-that bad if…If we did?”

You flinched. Just barely. The air stilled, vibrating between you. And then you shook your head slowly, tears welling again–not from heat this time, but from something deeper.

“I really didn’t want our first time together being l-like this.”

That stopped him cold. All the breath punched out of him in a single exhale. His lips parted, but nothing came out. His hand fell away from your jaw like it had been burned. His whole posture shifted–still close, but paralyzed with guilt.

You looked away.

Because if you looked at him now–if you looked into that face, flushed and desperate and filled with longing–you’d give in. Your breath hitched sharply—twice—before you folded forward on a gasp, one hand clutching your lower stomach like it might soothe the throbbing pulse building between your legs.

“God,” you choked out, voice breaking. “Oh my god, I—I can’t fucking take it.”

The ache had bloomed into something unbearable—wet and slick and throbbing through your core with every heartbeat. You were drenched, panties stuck to you, heat radiating off your skin like you were about to combust. Across from you, Bob made a strangled sound, his fists tight on his thighs, chest heaving as he forced shallow breaths through his nose—like if he didn’t, he might do something reckless.

“I c-can’t smell you,” He whispered, more to himself than to you. “I–I can’t smell you–I can’t–”

But he could. You both could. Your scent was everywhere–sweet and sharp and thick with want. It hung in the air between you like perfume, like bait, and you knew it was driving him mad.

You twitched again as another rush of slick gushed between your thighs and a broken moan slipped past your lips–soft, needy, involuntary. Your eyes squeezed shut as your hand pressed harder against your stomach, trying to contain it.

But it was useless.

“I can’t–fuck, I can’t take it–” You gasped, and before you could stop yourself, you were lunging forward.

You grabbed his face with both hands–hot, flushed skin beneath your palms–and crushed your mouth to his like it was the only thing keeping you alive.

It wasn’t a kiss.

It was a collision.

A mess of lips and teeth and spit.

You moaned into his mouth the second you felt him gasp beneath you–his lips parting wide in helpless surrender, his hands flying to your waist like magnets. The second he touched you, it was over. You melted into him, mouths sliding and sucking and devouring with sloppy, panting need.

Spit slicked your chin, his chin, your mouths, your skin. It dripped down between you as your lips broke and reconnected over and over in increasingly desperate, wet smacks. His tongue slid against yours, hungry and hot, and you whimpered into the kiss like your whole body was unraveling.

His hands squeezed your hips, hard–fingertips digging in, dragging you toward him roughly until your knees bumped his thighs and your chest hit his. You felt the tremble in him, felt the heat pouring off his body as he let out a low, feral grunt into your mouth, like he was trying to hold himself together and failing.

You pulled back just an inch, breath catching in your throat as a strand of spit still connected your lips, both of you panting so hard it echoed in the sealed lab.

“Fuck–” He gasped, chasing your mouth again, not even giving you time to respond before crashing back into the kiss, even hungrier this time. “You taste like–God–l-like sunlight–like h-honey–fuck, I can’t–can’t stop–”

“Don’t,” You moaned, sliding your tongue into his mouth again, letting it tangle with his, swallowing his sounds, his heat, his everything. “Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.” Your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking at the damp curls as his hands roamed, gripping your waist so tightly it made you whine. He guided you into his lap without thinking, until your knees straddled his thighs and your body pressed flush to his. You could feel everything–the twitch of his erection beneath the thin fabric of his sweatpants, the way his breath hitched when your hips brushed his, the way his hands couldn’t stop moving–gripping, sliding, needing. Every inch of you was pressed tight to him, and he felt all of it. The heat. The wetness. The hunger.

”G-God…” He gasped, his head dropping to your shoulder for a split second, voice thick, “I c-can’t–can’t stop–need…Need something–“ And then his hands flexed, dragging you forward–against him. You cried out, the sound strangled and high as he rocked your hips into his, grinding you against the thick line of his cock through his sweatpants. The friction sent a lightning bolt through your core, and your whole body spasmed in response, clutching at his shoulders as the contact jolted through your nerves.

“Oh–God–” You moaned, tearing your mouth from his as your head tipped back, spine arching. “Oh fuck–do that again–” He didn’t even answer. Just groaned–loud, filthy–and rolled your hips again. Rougher. Harder. Enough that your soaked panties dragged hot and slick over the outline of him, soaking into the soft cotton of his clothes and yours.

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as your thighs trembled on either side of his lap. Your hands found his hair and tugged–hard–and he moaned so deeply it vibrated through your ribs. His mouth trailed down to your jaw, your throat, open-mouthed kisses dragging over sweat-slick skin. His tongue was everywhere–greedy and reverent–and then you felt him kiss the top of your chest, right along the edge of your tank top.

You were panting, shaking, drenched in sweat and arousal. You couldn’t stop grinding down against him now, couldn’t stop chasing that friction as you rolled your hips again and again, letting your swollen heat drag along his cock in slow, devastating passes. The pressure built fast, sharp and aching, pulsing low in your belly with every movement.

Bob’s mouth trembled where it kissed just below your collarbone. His fingers slipped up your sides, shaky but sure–and then they hooked under the thin straps of your tank top.

“P-Please–” He rasped, looking up at you like he was about to fall apart. “Can I—can I see you?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes. God, yes.”

He didn’t wait. He dragged the straps down your arms, kissing the slope of your shoulder as they slipped, one by one. Then he tugged the neckline down–slow, desperate–and bared your breasts to the heavy, sweat-damp air.

The second your nipples were exposed, he let out a groan–a sound so broken, it barely sounded human. His eyes glazed with worship, with hunger.

And then his mouth was on you.

He wrapped his lips around one tight, aching nipple and moaned–like he was dying for the taste of you. His tongue flicked, sucked, lapped, over and over, and you cried out, hips jerking uncontrollably in his lap as you rutted down against him.

“Oh my god–Bob–“ You gasped, fingers burying in his hair, yanking him closer, needier. “That–fuck–you’re so good…” He didn’t stop. If anything, he got more desperate. His tongue traced circles around your nipple, sucking it deeper into his mouth with each slow pull of his lips. One of his hands gripped your ass, guiding your hips faster against his erection, grinding you down until your whole body was quivering.

“Y-You’re so warm,” He panted between kisses. “So soft–God–“ And then he took the other nipple between his lips, just as eager, just as mindless. His tongue licked a long, slow stripe across the swell of your breast and you sobbed at the contact, your whole body arching into him. Bob groaned around your nipple one last time before pulling off with a wet pop, his mouth red and slick with spit. His eyes were blown wide, pupils so dilated there was barely any blue left–but there was something else swimming behind them too, something ancient, hungry, waiting to surface. His breath caught in his throat as he leaned in close, nudging your jaw with his nose, mouth grazing your cheek. Then suddenly–

He surged forward.

Your back hit the cold tile in one fluid motion, the breath punching out of your lungs as he guided you down with firm hands, mouth still dragging across your chest. The contrast between the icy floor and the furnace of your skin made you cry out softly, arching up into his touch.

“Bob–” You gasped, but your words cut off with a moan as his hands slipped low, gripping the waistband of your pants and underwear in one practiced motion.

“L-Lift your hips,” He instructed–voice rough and tight with restraint. You obeyed instantly, and he peeled both garments down your legs in a single fluid movement, baring you to the air, to him, to everything.

Your thighs quivered as the rush of cool air met the wet heat between them. You leaned up, grabbed the hem of your tank top, and tore it over your head. It hit the floor behind you just as Bob stripped off his shirt–his chest gleaming with sweat, muscles flexing, dusted with faint gold shimmer and a constellation of freckles across his collarbones.

You barely had a second to breathe before he dropped between your thighs again, mouth finding yours in a kiss so urgent and deep it knocked your head back against the tile. It was messier now–hotter, more desperate, his tongue fucking into your mouth with wild hunger.

Then he broke away just far enough to speak.

“I-I’m going to c-crawl on my fucking knees,” He growled, “And you’re gonna spread those thighs wider for me, and let me eat you until you come on my tongue.”You arched up with a moan, hips twitching off the floor. Your hands reached for him blindly, pulling at his shoulders as he trailed kisses down your throat, your chest, your ribs.

“I need you so fucking bad,” He whispered, his voice darker now–lower, smoother. The stutter was gone.

You blinked through the haze, the heat, the sweat clinging to your lashes–and that’s when you saw it. The eyes. Not Bob’s soft blue. Gold. Molten.

“Sentry,” You whispered, breath catching.

But you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t want to.

His teeth scraped gently along your stomach, sending electric pulses through your nerves, and then he kissed the inside of your hip bones like he was worshipping an altar.

“You smell so fucking sweet,” He murmured, nose dragging through the crease where your thigh met your core, voice reverent and filthy all at once. “I can’t wait to have a taste.” You sobbed his name as your thighs opened wider for him, your body obeying without question. He slid his hands beneath you, lifting your hips off the floor, draping your thighs over his shoulders–his palms spreading across your lower back to anchor you in place.

“Look at you,” He groaned, lips brushing against your soaked folds without yet tasting. “You’re drenched…You’re so fucking wet I can see it drip.”

Then he leaned in.

And licked a slow, devastating stripe up your center.

You choked on a scream. Your hips jerked hard against his mouth, and his arms tightened around your thighs, holding you down as his tongue moved again–sloppier this time. Messier. Hungrier. He licked into you like he was starving. Long, deep strokes. Quick flicks. Circles around your swollen clit that had you crying out his name.

“God, fuck–yes–”

You gripped his hair hard, yanking at the sweat-damp strands, and he groaned like he liked it–no, loved it. The vibration of the sound against your core made your whole body shake.

“You taste like summer, like heat, like stars.” He moaned. “Absolutely fucking sinful.” He pulled back only long enough to look at you, his mouth wet, chin dripping with slick.

“I can’t wait to make you come on my tongue,” He growled.

And then he dove back in.

Tongue sliding flat against your clit, then swirling, sucking it into his mouth with slow, rhythmic pulls that made your vision blur. You cried out, grinding into his face, your hands clutching his hair, your whole body vibrating with sensation.

“P-Please–” you whimpered, barely able to breathe, “Please don’t stop–”

He didn’t.

He licked and sucked and groaned like you were his favorite meal, like he could do this for hours. His hands gripped your ass, dragging you tighter to his mouth, keeping you from squirming away.

You were going to come.

It was building fast–tight and white-hot and burning like it had nowhere else to go. You were right on the edge when–

He slipped one thick finger inside you.

You let out a loud gasp. It wasn’t pain–it was too much. Too good. The stretch, the pressure, the way his mouth never stopped moving.

“That’s it,” He murmured against your clit. “Take my fingers…Just like that…You’re so tight, fuck…I’m imagining how you’re going to take me.”

You clenched around him, and he groaned again–louder this time–and slid a second finger in, stretching you open. His fingers curled up, rubbing slow, teasing strokes into that perfect, devastating spot. Your walls fluttered, your thighs trembled.

“Oh god, oh god–”

“Come for me,” He growled. “Right now. Let me feel you.”

And he sped up.

Fingers pumping hard, mouth sucking your clit with filthy precision. You sobbed his name, your back arched clean off the tile, and you shattered.

The orgasm ripped through you like fire, like lightning–your thighs locking around his head, your hands gripping his hair as you wailed through it.

He didn’t stop.

Not when you cried out.

Not when you begged.

He kept sucking, licking, fucking his fingers into you as your body convulsed.

Your body was still twitching when he pulled his fingers free–slick and trembling, your core fluttering from aftershocks as he slowly sat back on his heels.

His chin was soaked. His lips swollen. His eyes–those molten, god-touched eyes–burned down the length of your naked body like sunlight through stained glass.

“I should feel sated,” He murmured, voice too calm for the storm coiled in his chest. “I should be full from what I’ve just taken.”He leaned in. Slowly. Pressed one open-mouthed kiss to your thigh, then another–hot and reverent, just shy of your folds. His breath dragged over you, still sensitive, and it made you whimper.

“But I’m not,” He said low, his nose skimming up the inside of your leg as he worked his way toward your face. “I’m still starving.”

You were trying to breathe, but it wasn’t easy. Not with your pulse echoing in your throat, not with the ache between your legs still pulsing with the memory of his tongue, and certainly not with him looking at you like that.

“I’ve waited…So long to taste you.”

His voice was velvet heat–slick with need, rich with something that throbbed like want and worship tangled together.

He braced a hand on either side of your head as he crawled up over you, hair wild around his face, sweat glistening on the slopes of his shoulders and chest. The weight of him caged you in. It wasn’t heavy–it was all-consuming.

You reached up with a trembling hand and cupped his face. His skin was flushed, warm and slick, his jaw tight as though holding back something enormous.

“I can still feel you,” You whispered, voice raw. “On my mouth. On my thighs. Inside me.”

He smiled at that–but it wasn’t gentle.

It was hunger.

“You’ll feel me even more soon.”His hand found your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip, and his gaze flicked down–watching the way your mouth parted for him instinctively. He leaned in again, voice now a whisper of thunder against your cheek, “Imagine what it’s going to be like when I fuck you…” Your hips bucked helplessly beneath him, but he only smirked, catching them with a firm palm.

“Sentry,” You gasped, voice trembling as your thighs clenched under the weight of him, “P-Please. God—don’t you feel it too?!”

His nose brushed yours, breath hot against your cheek. He didn’t answer at first–just let that small, dangerous smile curl across his lips, teeth barely catching his lower lip before he released it.

“Of course I feel it,” He murmured, hips dragging downward, grinding his clothed cock into your slick heat. “It’s everywhere in me. In my chest, in my spine, my teeth.” His voice dropped to a darker pitch, and the gold in his eyes flared one last time before dimming. “I-I just know I’m going to get what I-I need…

Bob sat back on his knees between your spread thighs, hands sliding slow and sure down his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants. “I-I already came once just from eating you out,” He confessed, voice timid now, “I t-think I have more in me…”

Then he tugged the sweatpants down.

Your breath stuttered in your throat.

His erection sprang free, flushed dark and glistening at the tip, already slick with the evidence of his earlier release. A thick bead of cum sat heavy at the crown, dripping slowly down the curve of his shaft, and your whole body twitched at the sight of it. The raw, shameless arousal surged in your belly like wildfire.

“Fuck–” You whispered, pupils blown wide.

He was beautiful. Veined and heavy and so hard it twitched with every breath. You couldn’t stop yourself. Your hand moved without thought–licking your palm once, slow and deliberate, before wrapping your fingers around him.

Bob groaned immediately–deep. His head dropped forward, curls swinging around his jaw, and his hips bucked into your touch as your hand slid down the length of him in a slow, sticky stroke. His cock throbbed in your grip. Hot. Pulsing.

“Mmmf–fuck,” He growled, the sound rattling against the walls. He dropped one hand down to your thigh to steady himself, the other bracing behind him as you worked him with your slick hand–up and down, tight and wet and slow, like you wanted to savor every second.

His breath came out in sharp pants, his face flushed, his eyes fluttering shut as your thumb rubbed just beneath the swollen head, gathering that leaking slick and spreading it over his cock.

“God, I didn’t even have to touch you and you came.” You whispered,

“That’s what y-you do to me,” he gasped, voice shaking. “I couldn’t help it—god, I couldn’t fucking help it—” He surged forward, kissing you hard, and you moaned against his mouth as his hips began to stutter forward, chasing the motion of your hand with every pass.

It was hot, the way he kissed you–messy. His mouth was open, panting against yours, lips dragging along your tongue, teeth grazing your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth with a wet pop. He moaned into you with every stroke of your hand, deep in his chest, growling like it hurt not to move faster.

He kissed like he was about to fall apart in your arms.

Like he wanted to ruin you and thank you at the same time.

And you could feel it–he was close again. Already.

“G-God–don’t stop–don’t stop–” he choked out, hips bucking into your grip, his cock twitching hard in your palm.

Then his mouth tore from yours with a ragged moan, his body going rigid as he came–again.

Thick ropes of cum spilled across your stomach in hot, wet spurts–slicking your skin, painting the swell of your belly in messy, sticky heat. Bob cried out, breath catching, his hand clutching your thigh hard enough to leave fingerprints as his hips jerked against your hand one last time.

You watched it all, feeling it dripping down your skin. You slowed your hand, and then looked up at him. His eyes were fluttered closed. His mouth hung open, panting raggedly. His cheeks were red and damp with sweat, hair curling against his temples in loose, disheveled strands.

And then–

You ran your fingers through the puddle of cum on your stomach.

Bob’s eyes snapped open.

He watched, transfixed, as you dragged two fingers slowly through the mess he left on you–slicking them up, glossy with white.

Then you brought them to your mouth.

And sucked them clean.

He groaned–low and guttural, more animal than man. He surged forward and kissed you, hard–his mouth hot and open, tongue licking into yours like he needed to taste what you’d just tasted.

And when he pulled back–just barely–he looked drunk. Starved. His voice was hoarse, reverent.

“W-We taste so g-good together,” He whispered.

You whimpered, eyes wide and glassy.

And then your voice broke.

“I need you inside me.”

His breath hitched sharply. His eyes searched your face like a prayer–like he needed to make sure this wasn’t just the pollen, wasn’t just chemical.

But your body told him everything he needed to know. The slick between your thighs. The tremble in your voice. The way your legs fell open without fear. He saw your hand reaching for him–trembling, open, desperate–and instead of just taking it, he kissed it.

One slow kiss to your palm. Then your wrist. Then each fingertip in turn, reverent and breath-warmed. His eyes didn’t leave yours, even when his lips brushed the soft pads of your fingers. It felt like something sacred.

“I-I’m yours, Y/N…” He whispered, his voice wrecked–hoarse and honeyed, lined with awe. “All yours.”

Your chest trembled. Not from the pollen. Not from the heat. From the weight of it–his words, his body, his need. You brought your other hand to his cheek, touching the sweat-slick curve of his face, thumb stroking over his flushed skin.

“You’re burning up,” You whispered.

“So are you,” He breathed back.

But the ache had shifted now. It was lower. Thicker. No longer frantic. Just heavy. Full. Demanding.

His lips met yours again–slow this time, almost trembling. Not chasing. Not crashing. Just pressing. Full and warm. Your mouths moved in sync, deeper with every pass, until he adjusted his weight above you, one forearm braced beside your head while the other hand snaked down to your thigh.

His fingers curled around the underside of it, tugging you closer until your legs wrapped around him again and your slick heat pressed against his length. He groaned into your mouth at the contact.

“G-God, Y/N,” He muttered, dragging his mouth down to your throat, kissing the line of your pulse. “You’re s-still dripping. I can feel it–so hot, so wet for me…”

His hand shifted, reaching between your bodies. He stroked himself once. Twice. The glide was obscene, slick with both your arousal and his release from before. He cursed low under his breath–voice strained with restraint–and guided the thick head of his erection to your entrance. Then–he paused, letting his forehead press to yours, his nose brushing yours as he whispered

“T-Tell me you want it.”

”I want you, Bob,” You breathed, “I’ve wanted you for so long…Please I want you inside me.” You begged, almost on the brink of tears just from the sheer anticipation that wracked through your body. He let out a long sigh and slid in, with such slowness you felt your whole body tense up.

You both gasped at the same time–loud, broken, raw. Your back arched and your thighs locked tighter around him as he pushed forward, inch by inch, stretching you wide with the thick, pulsing heat of him. He groaned above you, mouth falling open as your walls clenched around him, impossibly wet and tight.

“Oh–f-fuck…” He stuttered, his voice cracking like it couldn’t contain the feeling. “You feel…God…You feel like…Like e-everything.”

You whined under him, nails scraping lightly across his back. Every inch dragged through you like it was carved for you–hot, thick, filling. It was too much and not enough at once.

“You’re stretching me so good,” You gasped, voice shaking. “Bob–go slow–I wanna feel all of it.” He obeyed, hips moving with devastating care, sinking into you until he bottomed out, fully seated, buried to the hilt. The moan that left your mouth was guttural. His wasn’t any better. It came from deep in his chest–an animal sound, trembling and wrecked.

He stayed still inside you, just for a moment, just to feel everything, just to breathe.

Your chest rose beneath him in shuddering gasps, your nails pressing into the flex of his back as your hips trembled beneath the weight of him. He was deep–so deep it was hard to breathe–but it wasn’t painful. It was perfect. Like a lock clicking into place after too many years of holding the wrong key.

His forehead dropped to yours, your sweat-slick skin sticking where it touched, his breath ragged and hot against your cheek. His arms trembled faintly from the restraint, from the fire still licking through his blood, from the unholy grip of your body around him. His hands slid slowly from the curve of your thigh up to your waist, his thumbs brushing over your hips as if memorizing them. One hand trailed higher, tracing the line of your ribs, his touch light, soothing, trembling.

”You feel–“ He choked on the words, voice wrecked and shaking, “–Like…L-Like you were made for every inch of m-me.” Your fingers dug into his shoulders as your back arched slightly, hips shifting. The movement made him twitch deep inside you, and the sound he let out was hoarse and broken. Your lips brushed his, breath mingling.

“I need you to move,” you whispered. “Please, Bob. I need you to–”

He cut you off with a kiss.

Not desperate. Not wild. Just deep. Intentional. His lips dragged against yours in slow, soft strokes, his tongue slipping into your mouth like a secret. You kissed him back with a whimper, your hands cupping his face, fingers sliding into the damp curls at the base of his neck.

Then he started to move.

Slow at first.

A long, slow withdrawal that had your breath catching in your throat, followed by a deep, steady thrust that made you moan into his mouth. His hips rocked forward again, harder this time, but still slow. Still deliberate. Still savoring.

You felt every inch.

And he felt everything.

Your slick heat around him. The way your body welcomed him, tightened for him, trembled from the fullness. He moved like he wanted to stay inside you forever–long strokes that dragged through you with devastating patience, hips grinding at the end of each thrust like he wanted to feel the slick press of your clit against his skin.

He kissed you between thrusts–messy, wet kisses that dragged across your jaw, your cheek, your mouth again. His lips caught your whimpers. His tongue tasted your gasps. He moaned into your mouth when you clenched around him.

And then–

His hand slid up your chest, broad and warm, until his palm cupped the base of your throat. Not tight. Not forceful. Just there. Anchoring. Feeling the frantic flutter of your pulse beneath his fingers like it was the most sacred thing he’d ever touched.

“You’re burning,” He whispered, lips dragging across your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “S-So warm…So soft…So alive…”

His hips rolled again, slow but deep, pressing into you until your breath stuttered beneath his palm. Your body arched into him helplessly, your thighs wrapping tighter around his waist, your mouth parting on a moan that he caught with a kiss–hot, slick, and panting. He swallowed it greedily.

The pressure of his hand on your throat didn’t restrict. It grounded. Like he needed to feel your heartbeat just to believe this was real.

You whimpered, and he pulled back enough to look at you–his curls dripping sweat, his lips swollen and damp, and those eyes, half-lidded and molten gold at the edges.

“G-God, I could be inside you forever,” he rasped, voice trembling like the words themselves threatened to undo him. “I–I never want to l-leave this. Never wanna stop feeling you like this…”

Another thrust–this one deeper, grinding. Your head dropped back with a gasp.

“Bob–” You sobbed his name like it was the only word you remembered, your fingers twisting hard in his hair. He groaned, deep and wrecked, his hips stuttering slightly as you tugged, his body responding like you’d yanked something primal out of him. His mouth found yours again, frantic and hot, tongue flicking into your mouth with messy, desperate hunger.

Then he pulled back just enough to see your face–flushed, dewy with sweat, eyes glassy and wide.

“Y-You’re close again,” He murmured, like it was something holy. His hand still cradled your throat lightly, thumb stroking gently beneath your jaw as he pressed his forehead to yours, “I–I can feel it, you’re tightening every time I move–you’re doing so good for me Y/N.” You whimpered beneath him, your hands clutching at his back, at his shoulders, pulling him deeper, harder, anything–

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, rocking into you again, the friction slow and devastating. “Let go for me. Come around me. I wanna feel it. I wanna feel you fall apart.”

You moaned–high and soft and broken.

“That’s it,” he breathed, voice breaking. “Just like that. You’re doing so good—G-God–you’re so perfect.” Your thighs shook around his hips. His hand slid down from your throat to your chest, splaying wide over your sternum, as if he could feel the orgasm building beneath your ribs. His other hand slipped to your hip, holding you still as he gave one slow, deep thrust that hit the exact spot that made your vision blur.

Your mouth dropped open in a cry.

“Come for me,” He begged, hips rolling again, steady and relentless. “Please–I wanna feel you–let me feel you come around me–”

You shattered.

Your back arched off the floor, your breath catching in a series of sobbed gasps as the orgasm ripped through you. He kept moving, kept whispering praise through your climax, voice ragged with awe.

“That’s it…That’s it, Y/N…You’re so beautiful like this–“ You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you on earth, your nails digging into his back, your body convulsing beneath him with every wave of pleasure. You could feel yourself pulsing around him, feel how it dragged a strangled moan out of his throat.

“I-I’m so close,” He gasped, his voice wrecked, his rhythm faltering. “W-Wanna fill you up–please–can I–?”

You nodded, breathless and trembling. “Yes–yes, please–I want it–give it to me–” With a broken groan, his hips jerked forward one last time–and he spilled inside you. His whole body shook as he came, burying his face in your neck, his arms wrapping around you like he needed to hold every part of you to survive it.

You could feel it–every throb, every pulse of warmth deep inside you. His moans, soft and shaking, buzzed against your throat as his breath caught in your skin.

He didn’t move for a long while.

Just stayed there–buried inside you, mouth warm against your neck, arms tight around your waist like he was anchoring himself to this moment, to the rhythm of your heart against his chest. His breath was still coming in short, shaken bursts, and yours wasn’t much better. You were both trembling a little–not from fear, not anymore–but from the rawness of what had just passed between you. Like your bodies hadn’t quite caught up to the aftermath of something so explosive, so full.

But the heat was different now.

It had shifted. Softened. Still warm. Still thick. But no longer blistering, no longer maddening. Just…Lingering.

Your hands slid slowly up his back, fingers tracing through the sweat that slicked his spine, dragging across the faint bumps of his vertebrae. He let out a soft, shaky sigh against your skin. Your fingertips wandered to his sides, palms smoothing gently over the curve of his ribs as if to say I’m here. Still here. I’m okay.

You tilted your head and pressed a kiss to his shoulder—soft, damp, reverent. His skin tasted like salt and breathless devotion.

Bob shifted then, his arms loosening around you as he lifted his head just slightly, enough to look down at you. His hair was a light brown mess, damp curls stuck to his temples, a few clinging to his cheeks. He blinked at you–slow, still dazed–but there was something clearer in his eyes now. Something tender. His hand dragged along your side, skimming your ribs, and he leaned down to kiss you again.

His lips moved against yours like he hadn’t quite gotten his fill–like maybe he never would. He kissed your mouth, then your jaw, then your neck, peppering slow, breathless kisses along the column of your throat. You giggled once–just a little–as his nose brushed the underside of your jaw, tickling your skin.

He pulled back just enough to blink down at you, lips wet and parted, chest still heaving.

”Y-You know I like you, right?” Your breath caught. Your fingers paused where they rested near the nape of his neck. His voice had cracked slightly on the word like, and you could tell he meant something so much more than that. Of course you knew his feelings for you, it was easy to spot, but hearing him say it aloud–even after the both of you just had the most carnal sex ever–still made you a bit breathless. You swallowed, then nodded–eyes searching his face, your heart fluttering in your throat.

“I like you too,” You whispered, your voice shaky and soft. “Always have…” Your cheeks burned, and not from residual heat. You traced a finger over the curve of his shoulder. “T-The circumstances right now are a bit c-crazy…But…Maybe after this…”You tried to continue, but your nerves tangled the words together.

He finished them for you.

“I-I’ll take you out,” He said, nodding once, as if promising both you and himself. “We…We can go to your favorite r-restaurant. And we can do this right…” He ducked his head a little, voice lowering to a smile. “W-Without the sex pollen.” You let out a laugh–helpless and bright–and leaned up to kiss him again. He grinned into it, just a little, and kissed you twice more, slower now, like sealing the agreement. When he finally pulled back, his thumb was brushing your cheekbone, his other hand still lazily tracing your hip.

His gaze dropped to your chest for a moment, then back to your eyes. “A-Are you still aching?” He asked gently.

You paused, body still humming with the memory of him, but no longer sharp with urgency. You shifted slightly, feeling the wet stickiness between your thighs, the throb finally quieting to something warm and dull.

“It’s dulled a little,” you admitted. “But I think we should wash up…”

He blinked, nodding. “R-Right. Yeah.”

You offered a small smile, brushing the sweat-slick hair from his forehead. “We’ve got that little makeshift shower unit in the corner storage. Emergency setup. I-I can activate it.”

He looked at you, eyes soft, one hand trailing lightly over your ribs again.

“I-I’ll come with you,” He murmured. “Just to m-make sure you’re okay.” His curls hung loose now, wild and slightly matted from where your fingers had yanked at them during your climax. The gold shimmer on his skin caught the low lab lights, making him glow faintly where he hovered above you.

“Aww,” you murmured, brushing a hand lazily over the sharp line of his jaw, “That’s sweet, Bob. Really. But we both know that’s not the reason you’re joining me.” Bob flushed immediately, lips twitching into a bashful grin.

“O-Okay,” He said quietly, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. “M-Maybe it isn’t…M-Maybe I just wanna wash you, and k-kiss you under the water…Until all this heat dies down inside me.” Your chest stuttered at that, heart tripping over itself. His voice was so soft, so wrecked, so full of you.

“Now that’s much better,” You whispered, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiled into it, and you felt the way his arms curled tighter around your middle, the way his cock–still half-hard inside you–twitched slightly at the praise. He sighed, then slowly pulled out, both of you gasping a little at the drag of it. You shivered, and he was already reaching for a nearby towel to cover you while you sat up. His hand cradled the back of your head as you steadied yourself. Always gentle, even now.

You stretched your sore limbs and started for the far corner of the lab where the emergency hygiene setup was stored. Still naked, still glowing with post-orgasm daze, you knelt beside the console and started activating the emergency rinse station–a compact but functional retractable stall with hot water access, a single pressure-nozzle head, and sealed drainage for contamination containment. You flipped open the sanitation kit, pulling out the packet of unscented soap, a washcloth, and the emergency towels folded like paper bricks.

Bob padded over behind you, and you heard him laugh softly as you organized the supplies with shaky hands.

“What?” You said over your shoulder, arching an eyebrow.

He scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “N-Nothing. Y-You just look really focused for someone who’s still naked and covered in glittery sex pollen.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well,” you murmured, standing and turning to face him, “Remind me to access the cameras in here later and delete the footage of what happened…”

Bob raised his brows. “You think there’s audio?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Bob. We shouted at each other and cried out mid-orgasm while covered in science glitter. If there’s audio, we’re already blackmail material.”

His face turned scarlet.

“Y-You think they’ll–”

“I don’t think we want our sex tape leaking,” You interrupted, grinning wickedly as you flicked the shower head on. Warm water streamed out with a pleasant hiss, filling the space with a light mist and the sound of soft rainfall. You stepped under it first, pulling him gently in after you. The water hit your skin and instantly began washing away the gold flecks still clinging to your chest and thighs.

Bob’s hands found your waist again.

“…M-Maybe I’ll take a copy,” He mumbled.

You looked over your shoulder at him with mock exasperation. “You’ll have the real thing almost every night, Bob,” you said, voice low and teasing. “I don’t think you’ll need a copy.” His breath hitched–barely–and then you felt his mouth press to the back of your shoulder, his arms circling your waist from behind.

“I-Is that so?” He asked, lips trailing kisses up your damp neck.

You tilted your head back against him, smiling into the steam.

“Oh, it’s definitely so,” You said, reaching back to cup the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as the water cascaded around you both–cleansing your skin, but not your hunger.

2K notes · View notes

bluem1lls · 5 months ago

Text

✧₊⁺ forget about everything for a while

se-mi x fem! reader

✦ synopsis: you find your ex in the place you least expect it, and then again in the bathroom. she wants to say sorry but she doesn't know how..so maybe eating you out helps?

tw: minors dni, smut w a little plot, bathroom sex, fingering/oral (r!receiving), sub!reader, dom!se-mi, degradation (a little?), a bit of choking

authors note: hi! this is my first time writing (and in english) so im trying my best! tysm for reading and i hope u like it!

of course she's here.

you would've thought that after years of trying to get over her, the next time you'd see her, it would be at the coffee shop, where both used to go frequently. maybe even at the gas station, where she bought cigarettes and (per your request) a slushie.

you never thought you'd find your ex at the games where everyone was getting killed.

but of course you did.

so when you saw her standing there, wide eyed, being left alone to basically die as her entire group left her, the only conscious thing you could do was run to her and grab her hand.

se-mi stares at you, taking a double look to see if she was mistaken but nop, that's just her luck. it was you.

she would recognize that hair everywhere.

"what the fuck-" se-mi said, like she'd seen a ghost.

"no time to talk, maybe later" you said, dragging her into one of the rooms and closing the door behind.

she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her chest, she wanted to say a lot and at the same time, she had no words.

"why are you here?" she asked. her eyes searched for yours.

"my dad, he's.. extremely i'll and i couldn't let my mom carry with all that" you spoke, trying to regain your breath from the adrenaline of minutes ago and ignoring her pleading stare.

se-mi stares at the floor, trying to find the right words to say. what could she say to make it better.. after all these years?

"i didn't know. he's a really good man... i'm sorry"

"yeah." you reply, bitter "how could you know when you've been declining my calls and ignoring me?" you roll your eyes as you leaned against the door.

"i can't do this here, i really can't" se-mi said, putting her hands over her face trying to supress the wave of sadness that washed over her everytime she thought about you.

you bite your lip with rage. she was still avoiding you, after all this time.

"yeah no worries. i wasn't planning on staying here talking to my ex either" you mumbled.

she glanced over you trying to keep her cool facade as they open the doors

hell. you couldn't wait till this was done.

as you stirred in bed once. two. three times without being able to sleep, you decided that maybe the best would be to splash some water on your face, at least to be somewhat alert.

knocking on the door asking for the bathroom, the guards weirdly enough allow you without a lot of resistanse. maybe they're in a good mood.

you open the bathroom door and stand in front of the mirror, taking some water in between your hands to splash on your face.

you let out a sight when se-mi steps out of one of the stalls, closing the door behind her.

she looks a bit surprised when she sees you standing there. she stays in silence as both lock eyes from the mirror, her gaze softening as she roamed all over your face.

after a few seconds, she spoke in a soft and quiet voice.

"can't sleep huh?"

you nodded, turning around to look at her.

"it's been hard here. i just don't know when it's gonna be the last game" you spoke. she nodded in agreement.

there's an expression that you can't read on her face. it feels like guilty, pity and sadness all at once. you can see a hint of concern in her eyes.

"i really am sorry, you know...for not calling." she says.

you nod, getting closer to her, taking her scent. almost forgot the way she smells.

she looks at you with a frown on her face. deep down, you know she's sorry.

"i tried so hard to let you go..." you whisper, looking into her eyes.

"i tried too." she says, leaning an inch closer. "it never worked"

her eyes slowly reading all your features, as she took a deep breath and slowly placed a hand on your cheek, gentle. leaning into her hand, you sure missed her touch.

she bit her lower lip and gently cupped your face in between her hands.

"it's up to you se-mi. i've already said everything you needed to know. you were the one who was never sure" you whispered, feeling her breath on your face as the distance kept closing.

before you could even register what she was doing, you hear her mumbling a soft "fuck it" before she closed the distance and pressed her lips against yours.

the moment your lips touched, it felt like something snapped inside of both. one of her hands slid down to grab your thighs, encouring you to wrap your legs around her waist. so you did.

she pressed your body against the wall from behind while bitting rough on your lower lip. the kiss going from slow and loving to a rough, deeper one. both tongues fighting for dominance, you let her enter in your mouth as one of her hands slides from your thighs to your neck, softly squeezing for a few seconds, making you break the kiss to whimper for air.

her eyes scanned your whole face, eyes and pouty lips, basically begging her to fuck you. she let out a low groan as she kissed you again and again, going harder each time. her mind filled with nothing but the taste of your lips and the feeling of your chest pressed against her. little moans escaping from your lips, making her wanna ruin you right then and there.

"i missed this so much" you mumble in between kisses. the words sending a small pang to her chest as she pulled away from the kiss to lean her forehead against yours. her voice slightly shaking from lust, replies.

"i missed this too"

you pulled her by the neck, enough for her to kiss you again. you could feel yourself throbbing only from the kisses. grabbing her hand that sat on your waist, you lowered it down to where you needed her the most.

"i cant wait any longer.. please" you begged her to ruin you.

she looked at you with lustful eyes. "if it was any other moment, i'd make you beg, but since i dont think we have that much time.." she said, falling on her knees.

you pulled the pants and panties all in one go as she helped to get rid of them and pushed you softly against the wall.

she placed one of your legs on her shoulder and started to kiss your inner thighs, making you let go small whimpers. se-mi could feel herself growing wetter just by your scent, it was driving her crazy.

you placed a hand on her hair, softly pulling, and quickly her kisses escalated from inner thighs to your puffy clit, as her lips wrapped around it, you couldn't help but moan.

"be quiet" she hissed. "or you want everyone to know what a slut you are? maybe next time i'll fuck you in the common room" she smirked as you replied with a desesperate moan and a nod. "of course you'd like that. want everyone to know i'm the only one who fucks you stupid, princess?

as she finished her sentence, she placed her tongue on your clit. a cold feeling left you whimpering.

oh.

is that-

thats a tongue piercing.

of course she got a tongue piercing.

you covered your mouth with one hand to quiet your moans as the other one pulled her hair.

as two fingers entered your needy cunt, you bit your lip to quiet a loud moan. she kept working her tongue on your clit while roughly doing and 'in and out' motion with her fingers that was quickly dragging you to the edge. her eyes became almost black with lust as she roamed your fucked out face, your eyes rolled back from pleasure.

"i forgot how good you are at this oh my god-" you kept moaning and whimering as her fingers became rougher and quicker inside and her tongue picked a more rapid pace "no one will ever make me cum like you do se-mi"

her mind clouded with lust as she heard your words. she added another finger and could feel your cunt clenched around her.

"gonna cum baby? you feel so thight around my fingers." she said, her words driving you closer and closer to your release. "poor baby, she was just begging to be fucked like the slut she is, i bet no one ever made you this wet" she cooed while teasing. se-mi chuckles at the way you moan senseless in agreement.

"i need you to use your words, can you do that baby?" she says, her tongue pace fastening making you clench even more. "or maybe i should stop and let you talk"

"n-no please- please. im so close, s- so close please" i begged in between whimpers.

she grunted, fucking you harder. "cum for me princess, cum in my mouth. you're such a good slut" she said while wrapping her lips and sucking around my clit.

the motion of her lips and her fingers curling against your spongy walls at the same time, hitting your g spot, was enough to have your cunt pulsing and eyes rolling back. you felt the pressure snap and a warmth spreading on your lower tummy, you arched your back.

she keeps slurping everything until youre a whiny and trembling mess.

she decreases her pace, slowly removing her fingers and standing up, making you lick her fingers clean, staring into her eyes.

she helps you get dressed again, and it feels like how it used to all over again, the soft aftercare.

after cleaning you, she softly kisses your forehead and pecks your lips, she was apart from you once, and she's never gonna do it again.

"i love you. i'm so sorry for everything" she says, still trying to catch her breath.

you nod, tired, and give her a fucked out smile as she chuckles.

"i still love you too. so this was a 'im sorry for breaking your heart, i'll fix it by eating you out' kind of apology?" you say, trying to stop your legs from shaking.

you let yourself into her arms as she hugs you tight and fixes your hair gently.

"mhm, but i'll have to keep doing it, just so i can make sure you forgive me"

"please do..."

#lesbian #wlw #se-mi #player 380 #player 380 x reader #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game smut #se-mi x reader smut #se mi x reader #se-mi x reader #se mi #se mi squid game #se-mi squid game

2K notes · View notes

imawreck · 7 months ago

Text

His

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Author’s Note: I realize that in most of my fics Thor is the other romantic interest/situationship, but you CANT tell me that man wouldn’t flirt up a storm with a beautiful woman any chance he got. Also, this is my first smutty fic so feedback and comments would be much appreciated! This is on the more explicit side, so please read with caution.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), choking kink, Possessive!Winter Soldier, flashbacks, hair pulling, fingering, metal arm kink, dominant!winter soldier, probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 4,850

Breakups are ugly most of the time, and almost always one sided.

You and Bucky had been apart for at least three months. You’d stopped counting, wanting to forget it and focus on anything else. It was easier that way, to ignore the heartbreak and clutter up your life with other things to do.

Unfortunately, you still lived in the same tower on the same floor, right across from one another. He was constantly around, and no mattered how hard you tried, you just couldn’t avoid him.

It was hell.

And it was only hell because Bucky hardly gave you a good reason for the break up. Sure, you had your arguments. Mostly about his past and how much better he thought you deserved, to which you’d list all the reasons he was wrong. In reality, those weren’t really arguments. It was just Bucky having a low point, which you were more than willing to help him work through. Outside of those moments, you had felt that your relationship with Bucky was near perfect.

So when he had come back from a mission and broke up with you, his only reason being ‘I can’t be with you,’ it’d been a slap to the face. Like someone had shoved a knife in your heart and twisted.

The worst part was that he wouldn’t even allow you the chance to talk to him afterwards. Every time you were in the same room together alone, he’d find every reason not to speak with you.

So, you’d taken the hint and were now trying to figure out a way to move on.

That was made a little easier when a certain God of Thunder made his interest known to you. Thor was sweet, charming, and a little goofy. Not to mention handsome, with his blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

He’d made an effort to woo you not long after you’d parted from Bucky, and you’d informed him that the breakup was hard for you and that you couldn’t really do something new right now. Thor had been surprisingly understanding, and even took to just being friends quite well. Granted, he was still flirty, but he knew where you both stood and was always happy to lend an ear when you needed one.

He turned out to be just the friend you needed.

From the outside looking in, none of the others thought it was ‘just friends,’ especially when Thor would openly show his interest in you. Especially to a certain Super Soldier.

Bucky was painfully aware of what was going on between you and Thor even though he desperately tried not to be.

His super hearing picked up on the soft laughter you and the god would share, on the hushed whispers you’d exchange late over a mug of coffee when you thought everyone was asleep. His every fiber was attuned to you, and he couldn’t help but fixate on your presence.

You were like gravity to him, and he always found himself near you when he knew he should be as far as humanly possible. He saw the little looks you shared when Thor would compliment you, noticed your shy smile when the god would enter the room. He could tell that Thor was winning you over slowly but surely.

He couldn’t fucking stand it.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when he shipped off on the next mission possible.

You worried, your heart still set on loving him, but you tried to pay it little mind. And after a few days, it actually helped. You felt better, found yourself smiling more. You were beginning to move forward.

That was, until the jet was reported missing. Then Bucky was all anyone could talk about in the tower.

Thor tried his best to keep you in the dark about most of what was going on, and it wasn’t hard seeing as you were just a rather good strategist and not a serious Avenger. You were only really included in skimming over preplanned attacks and making sure they hadn’t missed anything critical.

But word still spread, and worry was ever present.

Needless to say, it was very strange when Mr. Stark called you into a private meeting with himself and two other of the elite team.

“Y/N,” He spoke softly in the kind of tone that lets you know that whatever he says next is going to ruin your whole week. “There’s a situation with Barnes.”

You frowned, eyebrows scrunching at him from where you sat at the rather empty end of the long black table. “I’m confused. Bucky and I broke up months ago. Why are you talking to me about it?”

Steve, who you’d befriended while dating his best pal, looked at you with poorly concealed pity from his seat next to Stark. “Because we know he still means a lot to you and that you’re our best hope in this situation.”

That didn’t make you feel better about whatever was going on at all. “What do you mean ‘this situation?’” You eyed them both, before dragging your eyes over to Doctor Banner who hadn’t done much more than stare at you with a concerned expression bordering on panic.

Stark pressed his fingers to his forehead, “Barnes got triggered on his mission and has infiltrated the tower. We have reason to believe he’s after you.”

You gaped at him. That didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important, at least not as important as one of The Avengers. “Me? Why me?”

“We’ve silently shut the building down and we’re working on evacuating the floors without anyone freaking out.” Tony went on, ignoring your questions, “He doesn’t know that we’re aware he’s here, and we’re trying to keep it that way.” Tony motioned towards a monitor, and the image of Bucky popped up on the screen.

Only he was in your room, and he was dragging his fingers over the picture of the two of you that was perched on the nightstand. They way his fingers smoothed over the glass, the slight pinch in his brows as if calculating instead of recalling. It was like he’d never seen it before in his life. Like he had no connection to the image of himself.

It was a picture he had taken, his arm extended and a smile on his face with your lips pressed to his cheek. You had meant to take it down and stuff it in the box under your bed with all the other memories you had hid from sight, but it was just too painful. You needed something to hold onto.

You watched through the screen as he moved around your room, taking note of certain things and taking careful precautions to ensure that anything he moved was set right back in place. It was eerie to watch a man who was once so comfortable in your space tread with so much hesitance. Like it was the first time he’d been in the space all over again.

“Y/N.” It was Steve’s gentle timbre that brought your attention away from the screen this time. He tried to smile, though it was clearly forced. “We need you to lure him down towards the lower levels. We have to get him to a room where we can better contain him. If he finds out we know he’s back and not… him, then he could snap.”

“You want to use me as bait? For the Winter Soldier?” You stared at them both with wide eyes, panic blooming in your chest. “This is insane!”

Steve sighed, “Y/N… Bucky told me about the incident that happened in the beginning of your relationship.”

Your attention zeroed in on the blonde’s words, your breath hitching.

“He told me what could’ve happened… and what didn’t.”

You walked down the corridor of the Stark tower office floor heading back towards your desk from a late night research meeting with a few of your coworkers. You had decided to stay later than the others so that you could collect and organize the information you needed for the meeting with Mr. Stark the following morning. It was very late, and you were tired, the heels you wore had begun to irritate the soles of your feet hours before.

You clutched the files you collected in your arms, heels clicking on the glossy floors and echoing into the dimly lit corridor. So dim that you didn't see the silhouette of the man standing just feet from you until it was too late.

You only saw a flash of silver before the door beside you was torn open and you were roughly shoved inside. Cleaning supplies clattered onto the floor, spilling liquids over your feet as you cried out. A hand clamped over your mouth, and your head hit the wall with a thunk.

Stormy blue eyes stared at you, cold and unfeeling. Eyes you had seen just days before smiling at you and filled with life.

Your lips moved to say his name against the cool metal of his hand, but his grip on your face was nearly bruising. You could only stare back in fear and attempt to press your body further from him.

He didn't speak, only stared at you and kicked the door to the closet shut.

Fear was a living thing in your stomach, writhing as his eyes snaked down to your red heels and back up again. His head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to remember something. But his eyes remained cold and unrelentingly empty. His flesh hand came up to press a finger threateningly to his lips.

‘Quiet.’

You weren't stupid enough to scream, not with the way he was looking at you, with how close he was. When he removed his hand, you did exactly as he wanted. Silence hung in the small closet, suffocating you. Would he kill you? What did he want? Why hadn't he killed you already?

The cool metal of his palm slipped further down, wrapping around your throat and pressing against your thundering pulse. Your head pounded along with it, and a foggy feeling settled over your mind.

But your lungs still filled with air, and you remained aware. The pressure of his hand was ever present, but it was light enough not to cause real damage... Almost like he didn't want to hurt you.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement catching your eyes. His body leaned forward, his nose pressing into your neck and his warm breath hitting your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, and that lick of fear heightened again. He was acting so strangely, and the longer it went on the more unsettling it was.

When he pulled away, there was a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A hunger, and… and recognition.

“Hello, Beloved.”

“We know that he didn’t hurt you, and that he displayed… certain feelings towards you.” Steve’s voice brought you out of the memory, dragging you back to the reality at hand.

The one where he wants you to put yourself smack dab in the path of the Winter Soldier.

“You’re serious about this?” You blink up at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. Level headed as Steve was, you trusted him with your life. But this? This was terrifying and completely unexpected. Ridiculously dangerous.

“It’s the only nonviolent way we can think of. And we’re almost certain there’s no high risk for you.” Steve tried to give you a reassuring smile, tried to hide the hint of unease that shone in his tense shoulders.

“You’ve all lost your mind.” You laugh, sighing and raising your chin. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Apparently, so had you.

You stared at the metal doors of the elevator, your heart pounding with each toll of the floors passing. This was probably—no, was— the riskiest thing you’d ever done in your life. You trusted Steve and Mr. Stark, but your brain was trained to find the flaws in plans like this. And so many things could go wrong.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said calmly into your ear, startling you. You’d forgotten they’d given you the earpiece. “I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll guide you through the compound and make sure you stay out of danger.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if they could see you.

“Bucky is leaving your room. We’re going to drop you off in the commons area of your floor. All you have to do is make some noise and then head for the stairwell. Just listen to me, and I’ll get you through this.” Steve sounded so confident in your ear, but it did little to soothe the nerves.

The elevator leveled out, and the doors quietly opened. The large living room opened up before you, unnervingly bright and welcoming despite the danger you knew lurked just down the hall. You stepped out onto the carpet, walking towards the kitchen. Your palms sweat, heart pounding, as you made your way up to the cabinets.

You just had to make some noise. Easy, right?

But your body wouldn’t move.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice called in your ear again, gently coaxing you from where he watched the cameras. “Make some noise, and then head for the stairs.”

You swallowed, nodding again, and reached with shaky hands towards the cabinet. You grabbed a bowl, and hesitantly set it down on the granite counter. The echoing ‘pok’ of the ceramic felt too loud in your ears, like a gunshot.

“Good, now move quickly. He’s just down the hall headed your way.”

The words sent a chill down your spine… and something else followed. Something you’d never felt before.

You headed towards the stairs, but your feet felt like lead weights. Like you couldn’t move fast enough even though you knew you were going as fast as you could.

But you could hear the faintest scuff of boots coming behind you and the sound sent your heart into a frenzy.

You raced down the stairs, tripping a few times before righting yourself and continuing your decent down towards the lower levels. Your floor was four levels up from ground level, which meant you had six floors in total to descend before you could get to the containment floor.

Six flights of stairs being chased by The Winter Soldier. A superhuman man who was definitely faster than you, and probably wanted to do something terrible to you. Like a wolf hunting a sheep.

Oh God.

The thought only served to spur the panic rising in you. You kicked up your speed when the door slammed behind you, footsteps pounding after you as the dark silhouette of Bucky Barnes rounded the stairs two flights above.

He took the stairs four at a time, his long legs swallowing up the distance between you. The panic clawed its way up your throat in a strangled cry, and the sound just seemed to quicken his pace.

“I’m not fast enough!” You tried to keep your voice even, tried to keep it quiet in the echoing stairwell so that the soldier behind you would hear.

“You’re almost there, Y/N. Just keep up the pace. Two flights left and—“ but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You watched in shocked horror as Bucky’s figure leapt over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. He dropped several flights before his arm snapped out and wrapped around the railing. The sound of metal hitting metal rang out around you as the railing dipped under the crushing pressure.

He hauled himself back onto the stairs just before you. Those cold eyes found yours, dark hair framing sharp features, painting him into something primal. Something wild.

That feeling pounded through you again, skittering along your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You still couldn’t place it, not with him stepping towards you with a look that promised violence.

You heard Steve’s voice ordering something over the earpiece, but it was distant. It became clearer a moment later. “We’ve got a team heading in. Just… just hang in there.”

You swallowed, but your throat had gone dry in the presence of the assassin before you. His eyes held you in place as his towering form finally stopped a stair below you, leveling with you face to face. So close you could count the stitches in the Kevlar of his suit.

You felt your body shaking, heard your heart thundering in your ears as your chest rose and fell with each short breath you managed to drag into your lungs.

And he watched every move you made.

His head titled to the side exactly like it’d done the first time you’d been trapped with him. His gaze never left you, eyes wandering over your face and heaving chest before that faint look of recognition settled into those hollow eyes.

And then that heat you’d seen before consumed them.

He stepped forward, and you answered with a step back. For each one he took, you pedaled backwards until your body was plastered against the wall. When you tried to flee back up the stairs, his metal hand planted itself against the wall inches from your head.

You were utterly trapped.

Rough Russian left his lips in the softest whisper. The sound was the same as you’d heart him say before, though you didn’t understand it.

Not until now, as the earpiece Steve had given you translated his words as he spoke them.

“Hello again, Beloved.”

Those blue eyes bored into yours, as his other hand came up to brush your cheek with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of.

“He’s kept me from you for so long.” Bucky’s body leaned forward, caging you against the wall. His metal hand remained pressed against the wall beside you, and the other dragged across the skin of your neck and shoulder in an almost reverent manner.

Bucky’s— no, this wasn’t Bucky. This was the part of Bucky he kept farthest from you. This was a man known for cruel, unimaginable violence. An assassin known by reputation around the world by both hero and criminal alike and feared by all. This was the Winter Soldier.

Winter’s lips brushed your jaw, stubble tickling the column of your throat as his voice rumbled against your skin. “Kept you to himself. Never let me touch you. Worried I’d damage you, Beloved. Couldn’t see you needed me.”

His teeth nipped at your skin, and a shiver rolled down your spine in answer. That feeling tugged at your mind again, spurred by his words. But still, you couldn’t place it. Not with your mind consumed by his statements and barely contained yearning.

When his head lifted to find your eyes again, the fingers of his right hand tangled themselves in your hair and pulled hard enough to have your scalp stinging. His next words were guttural and biting, “And then he let you go.”

Winter’s grip loosened a bit, but his hold on your hair remained. “He pushed you away, and then that god tries to take you from me?” His eyes held you, demanding your utter attention as his head shook slowly, “You don’t belong to him.”

Tugging your lip between your teeth, you clenched your eyes shut. God, you wished Bucky would say that to you. Having Winter here saying these words with Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s face. Touching you with familiar hands…

Heat had begun to pool low in your belly.

The words were spoken in English. “Open your eyes.”

There was no room for objection in his voice, so you did as he said. With his jaw was set in an angry line, and those blue eyes boring into your soul, he leaned in closer. “He thinks that being with you is too dangerous, that you aren’t safe with… with us.”

“What?” Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. It was the first real reason as to why Bucky had broken up with you.

Those silvery blue eyes zeroed on your lips as he spoke again. “He thinks we can’t protect you, that I’ll hurt you. That somehow being further from you keeps you safe from what comes with being what we are.” His metal hand left the wall in favor of brushing over your lower lip and trailing the cool tips of his fingers down to the dip of your breasts and back up to the column of your throat. “I’d never hurt you, not the way he has. Not if you didn’t want it.”

“W-what do you mean?” You just knew he was picking up on how your heart beat harder as his fingers trailed over your skin. Or the way you kept shifting on your feet to stave off the heat thrumming in your veins with an all too familiar want blooming and begging for his hands to explore more.

The faintest hint of a smile graced his face as he gave your hair another gentle tug, then loosened his grip once more. “You like this. I’ve seen how you react with him. How you quietly treasure the marks he leaves on your skin even when he feels nothing but guilt.” That metal hand slipped over your throat again and pressed on your neck exactly as he’d done the first time you’d seen Winter. Your head spun at the pressure, but you could breathe easily under the cool press of his palm as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “I see how badly you wish he’d touch you with this hand,” he squeezed your neck and loosened it quickly, “How badly you want those marks. How badly you need me.”

You had no words. Nothing to say as he wrung out the truth you’d thought was hidden from him— from Bucky.

Bucky was notorious for avoiding any situation that would make him use the metal arm. He would much rather let it hang there, or act as if he didn’t have it at all. That included when the two of you would get intimate. He never dared to bring it anywhere near you no matter how many times you’d reminded him it was fine, that you weren’t afraid of it. He outright refused to allow it to touch your delicate skin, to let such a catalyst for agony so close to something as precious as you.

Winter knew that you’d secretly craved to feel the cold metal in contrast to his warm skin when he held you. He knew that you would always find it more satisfying when Bucky would lose himself and get rough with you when things got heated. How his flesh hand would leave bruises on your thighs or hips to keep you steady as he thrust himself deeper.

Just the thought had you aching, and here was Bucky’s darker half offering you everything you’d ever wanted.

You were losing your fucking mind.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but the words were flimsy and meaningless. He knew the truth, but that didn’t mean you had to say it aloud.

His metal fingers dug into your jaw, his grip near bruising as he tilted your head up to level your eyes with his. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dollface.” His lips were a hairs-width away, his warm breath fanning over your face.

The scent of him was intoxicating, muddling your mind even further with heady leather and metal invading your nose. The hint of that aftershave you’d missed so much since Bucky broke your heart.

Winter was tearing you apart at the seams.

“Please,” you whispered. Please what? You didn’t know. You could hardly think straight. That feeling was so strong, thrumming along with your pulse and the ache for something. Anything.

“Tell me I’m right.” He mumbled against your skin. Soft lips, a vast contrast to his rough demeanor, to the calloused hand that remained tangled in your hair, trailed down your cheek. “Tell me that you want me. Not the pathetic excuse for a god, or him. That you want me.”

His metal hand released your face, drifting over your neck and dragging over the left side of your chest. He circled once, thumbing over your nipple with a knowing look filled with every sinful promise known to man.

And then he went lower and lower…

His fingers caught the waistband of your leggings, the chill of his fingers raised goosebumps across your stomach, only serving to worsen that burning need.

“Doll,” a command and a question wrapped in one word.

All you had to do was admit your darkest most guarded secret. Confess, and he would give you what you wanted most. What Bucky was too afraid to do.

You opened your mouth, the words tumbling out as he gave your hair another tug.

“I want you.”

That smirk grew just a fraction more, his fingers slipping past your waistband and toying with the hem of your panties.

Fuck, did you wish you’d gone commando today.

“Who am I?” He asked, teeth nipping down your neck hard enough to know they’d leave marks. “I want you to say it, Y/N.”

Those fingers slipped further, rolling over your aching clit in a teasing stroke before he pulled them away again.

If he wasn’t a literal assassin, you’d consider strangling him.

“For fucks sake,” you gripped his arm, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears, ragged and broken. “Winter, please.”

He didn’t waste time, deft, cool fingers dipping into your core with confidence. Soothing that aching heat.

Fuck.

His thumb circled slow as he pumped his fingers, his mouth leaving wet kisses along your jaw up to your lips where he paused long enough to catch a glimpse of your face. You knew you looked like an utter mess, but those blue eyes showed nothing but twisted delight. He leaned forward and tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, bitting hard enough to make you groan.

Winter’s answering grunt of approval urged you further towards the edge of oblivion those perfect metal fingers were working you towards.

God you were so close. Each movement, every touch and bruise he left on your skin pushing you closer and closer. Just a bit more, a fraction more and you’d—

His fingers wrenched away, gone in an instant.

Your eyes, closed from the pleasure just moments ago, snapped open just before the doors to the stairway above and below you burst open. Floods of agents filed through the doors, and a gun fired.

The sharp sound echoed in the confined space making you flinch. Winters back pressed you against the wall, a solid shield of muscle keeping you out of harms way.

Then the weight was too heavy. His body crushing you as he slumped toward the floor. You screamed, immediately thinking the worse as your eyes searched his form in a panic.

But you found no blood, thank God.

“He’s fine, Y/N.”

Steve’s hand on your shoulder had you flinching back, head snapping to his suit clad form. “The gun—“

“It’s just a tranq. I promise, Bucky will be fine.” His face was the picture of practiced reassurance.

A horde of agents rushed forward and cuffed Winter’s hands and dragged his unconscious body out of the stairwell and further towards the confinement room. Steve remained with you, his eyes flicking to your neck a few times and checking you over to make sure no serious damage had been done.

When you’d gotten yourself back to your room away from the prying eyes and the relentless questions, the reality of what had happened slammed into you.

You just let the Winter Soldier finger you in a fucking stairwell.

And you liked it.

Plunging your fingers into your hair, you took a shaky breath. What the fuck were you thinking? Had you lost your damn mind? Bucky broke up with you three months ago! You were done; over, moving on. He could remember this, for Christ sake! How would you explain it?

Panic writhed in your stomach, but so did the faint ache of need that reminded you of what had just happened mere minutes ago.

The feeling of his metal hand on your skin, the feeling of those fingers working you perfectly and the pressure of his bruising grip.

And that feeling that you couldn’t place.

But now you had a word for it.

From the thrum of your heart as he chased you down the stairs, the promise of violence and sinful pleasure in his eyes. The roughness of his actions…

It was the thrill.

You liked the chase. You liked how rough he was. The delicious blend of panic and pleasure.

And he’d been interrupted before you got the release you’d craved. That you needed.

Frustration boiled to the forefront of your mind, a dozen different strategies with it.

He’d made you confess your darkest secret only to leave you high and dry.

And damn him if he wasn’t going to finish what he started.

#winter soldier #drama #👀#bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #x reader #angst #smut

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sobbingscripter · 4 months ago

Text

Tags: [mlw][mdni][fingering][passionate][ex!fwb][quiet reader][slight breeding kink][light choking][hair pulling][quiet sex][no nudity][nipple play][nipple sucking][promise of pregnancy][low-key right person; wrong time][not proofread because my beta reader's asleep]

"I have a fucking kid and you didn't think to tell me?!"

Dick's voice is low, frustration bleeding into his words and his fingertips dig into his palms, blunt nails leaving crescent indentations in the flesh as he stares down at you.

The worst part is, you look so fucking nonchalant about it too.

Sitting crossed legged on the couch, a mug of steaming hot chocolate cradled in your hands and a plate of cookies resting on the surface of the coffee table. The TV plays one of the older episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, and God, the sight of you so relaxed while watching trashy TV makes Dick falter in his anger.

"How do you know he's yours or even mine?"

You speak, your voice soft and gentle, despite the way your eyes burn with annoyance at the fact that Dick's just.... Standing there, in your space, his suit clinging to him like a second skin in the way it always has.

Dick leans forward, his breath fanning across the surface of your face and he gives you the opportunity to see the stormy rage that swirls in brilliant blue irises, darkened by the sense of betrayal at the fact that you've kept his son from him for so long.

"Because he looks like me. He looks fucking just. Like. Me." Dick grits the words out like they're liquid sulphur, burning his throat on the way out.

Before he lets out a breath, dropping onto the seat beside you and he cards a gloved hand through his hair.

"And he told me I look.... Romani. And proceeded to call me a 'gypsy bastard'."

Your apartment looks different from when he was here last.

Warm, pale blue walls, a dark leather sofa and a bigger TV mounted on the wall. Fuzzy blue throw pillows and the bowl of fruity gummies on the coffee table is a fun new addition, just like the drawings that line the walls of the living room, and clutter on top of the fridge.

On each drawing, Dick can make out the scribbled out 'Mommy And Me', usually in a colour that has no match in the palette and he can't deny the heaviness in his heart when he reads that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dick speaks softly, hands moving to carefully remove the mask from his face, tossing it onto the coffee table and he grabs one of the throw pillows, resting it on his face.

You can practically smell his emotions.

Confused, hurt, betrayed. Frustration's a big one though, and you purse your lips.

"I didn't wanna have the 'is it mine' conversation."

You speak so softly, so sweetly and it reminds Dick of how much motherhood's softened you. It reminds him of the way that you'd have pushed him out the window for showing up unannounced, but instead, you're letting him sit on your couch, and you talk.

Not argue.

You just... Talk.

"I'd know he was mine." Dick murmurs. "We were... Exclusive."

The way Dick says it makes you feel like it was more than just occasional hookups, more than the odd movie date that ended with your ankles touching your ears.

The silence between you is comfortable.

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops dropping against your aluminium window, pot plants on the terrace watered so gently and the TV continues to play, although at a much softer pace.

Dick lowers the pillow, looking at you with big, almost teary blue eyes. Eyes framed by long, inky lashes, full brows and striking hues that make you feel like your breath is dying in your throat with every passing second.

"He's beautiful."

Dick's voice is soft.

"A little bit of an asshole, but he's beautiful."

Before you can answer, before you can even fathom properly what Dick's saying, you hear the crack of a door and the shuffle of tiny feet as Riot stumbles into the living room, fists balled and rubbing at his eyes.

"Mommy, my eye." He sniffles, continuing to scratch at his eye before you let out a quiet hum, your hands hooking underneath the little boy's armpits before you tug him onto your lap.

And you open his eye, the sclera just a bit red and you hum softly.

"Dickie, can you put on the light, please?"

Dick doesn't question the nickname, because it makes his heart swell in a way that has him internally screeching, even as he reaches for the overhead lamp and switches it on.

And your lips purse as you blow on Riot's eye, watching the way his lashes flutter and his eyelid twitches before a teary droplet plops down his cheek.

And you wipe it away, feeling the distinct strand of cat fur against the pad of your thumb.

"We don't even own a cat." You mumble, before using your index knuckle to wipe the watery eye.

"All better?" You muse softly and Riot nods his head, before glancing at Dick with sleepy eyes, lashes fluttering even as he clambers across your lap, and into Dick's.

And his tiny arms wrap around as much of Dick's midsection as he can, his chubby and rosy cheek pressed against Dick's chest.

And the man's expression crumples.

Brows twitch and eyes begin to sting as one of his long fingered hands move to rest on Riot's back, feeling the soft fabric of his pajamas through the glove. And Riot lets out a content sigh.

"Deadbeat gypsy." The words are muffled, but they're audible enough for Dick's lips to part in shock, brows raising before letting out a bark of laughter.

Before he glances at you.

"He's just like you." Dick murmurs, before watching as Riot climbs from his lap, and heading back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

There's a still silence in the air, only filled by the sound of Kim's voice and rain droplets crashing down outside before Dick clears his throat.

"My— uh...— my patrol ended early." He murmurs softly.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

The way you're slot under Dick's bicep, your head against his chest and your legs tossed across his lap makes him feel 4 seconds away from crashing out. Because God, you're so warm and so much softer.

Dick stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his side as you snuggle closer, before ultimately decided to pull the quilt over the both of you.

Your eyes remain glued to the TV, occasionally letting out snorts of laughter as you watch Grown Ups for what you could guess would be the 60th time on your lifetime.

But you can feel Dick's eyes.

Following the curve of your face, watching the way your lashes fan out and watching the way breaths leave your soft, glossy lips. And before Dick can even fathom it, his arm behind you is shifting, hand moving to wrap around your neck, long fingers stretching effortlessly and he brushes his thumb along your pulse, the action causing your head to tilt up and you meet his gaze.

And Dick's lips are pressed against yours, his fingers twitching against your neck before leaving the column of your throat, instead, shifting until you're resting back against the sofa.

You can't refuse. Well shit, you don't want to refuse.

Dick's kissing you like he's dying tomorrow. Lips pressed against yours, his hips nestled between your thighs and his arm moving to support his weight, elbow braced on the armrest above your head, and his other hand cradling your face.

His thumb strokes along the soft skin of your cheek, his hips pushed against yours and his tongue brushing along yours, but his movements stutter when your thighs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck and bringing him down to deepen the kiss.

Dick swears he sees heaven when your fingers card through his hair in that way.

Starting right at the nape of his neck, before dragging those manicured nails, up up up, before they disappear beneath silky raven strands and he sighs into the kiss, before pulling away.

Dilated pupils, and heavy breaths are exchanged between the two of you, and Dick swallows hard.

"Is he a heavy sleeper?" Dick whispers softly, gaze darting towards the bedroom he saw Riot disappear into and you nod your head.

"He is but you're pretty loud." You tease softly and Dick pushes his hips into yours, his bulge prominent beneath his suit and you can feel the way his tip brushes against your clit, even through the layers of fabric between you.

Dick always could find it in record time.

"Fair point." Dick whispers softly, a breathy laugh slipping past his lips, just a bit reddened from the intense kiss and he speaks again.

"But you never were loud."

Two digits bully their way into your cunt, your shorts and panties tugged to the side and Dick's lips are pressed against yours, muffling any sound you could even think of letting escape from your lips.

His tongue is buried in your mouth, thumb rubbing sloppy circles against your throbbing clit and your nails dig into Dick's biceps when he prods at a particularly sensitive spot. Your lashes flutter, and you take a shaky breath when Dick's fingers curl, his glove abandoned on the surface of the coffee table, and Dick pulls away from you, a thin, glossy string of saliva between the two of you before it ultimately breaks.

Landing across your chin and he giggles.

The man fucking giggles, as he uses his free hand to wipe away the mess, before ultimately moving your hair out of your face, staring down at you with pretty, big eyes that look at you so adoringly.

"You're so pretty." Dick murmurs softly, pressing a peck to your lips as he stares at you.

And fuck, you are.

Pretty eyes fanned by long lashes, perfect eyebrows and rosy cheeks, wet and parted lips (both pairs), and a few strands of hair clings to the thin sweat on your forehead and Dick sighs softly.

You're perfectly spread out too.

Hands gripping at him like you're scared he'll disappear, thighs spread messily and your panties and shorts tugged aside. Gummy walls thrum around his digits, pulsing at the intrusion and all he does is he continues to tease your clit, the rough pad of his thumb circling the sensitive and swollen nub as he continues to look at you with those heart eyes.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?" Dick's question is unexpected but he can't lie and say he hasn't been thinking about it since he saw you.

Plush, squishy, and so soft.

And he'd do anything to see you pregnant.

To watch you move around in oversized shirts, a belly swollen and heavy breasts that he could tease because they're just so sensitive and pretty.

And God, he can't even imagine the way your perfect, plump pussy would look, nestled between even rounder thighs, clit completely hidden until he uses his thumbs to spread the lips.

Dick swallows.

Hard.

And he doesn't even notice that his fingers begin to move, curling and prodding, nudging at that little fleshy spot that has your toes curling in your mismatched socks and your nails dig into his forearms.

And Dick remembers just what a sight you are when you come.

Brows pinching into the cutest little frown, lips forming a little 'o' and that gasp that leaves you has him leaking in his suit and he's so glad it's dark.

"That's it, princess, come on my fingers." Dick coos softly. "Use my fingers to make your pretty pussy feel good."

Your eyes roll back, you hide your face in your shoulder and your body freezes, the only movement being the rhythmic spasm of your cunt around his fingers.

His stupidly long, incessant fingers that keep dragging out your orgasm even as you nod your head, a silent answer to his prior question.

And Dick gleams, dimples in his cheeks and brilliant blue eyes lighting up in a way that can only be described as cosmic.

Blue eyes flecked with silvery stars and the gleam of the moon, dilated pupils and pretty lashes and Dick nods.

"Okay." He breathes out. "We're gonna go to the museum, okay? He's a little artist so I think he'd like looking at the paintings?"

You nod meekly, chest still heaving even when you watch as Dick licks his fingers, cleaning them up like he's just licking syrup from his fingers. His long tongue swivels around his digits before he carefully tugs up the fabric of your T-shirt, exposing your torso to the cold air.

Perfect tits, dotted with pebbled nipples and Dick swallows.

He never thought he'd be someone to have a kid out of wedlock but fuck, is he happy to be your baby daddy.

"Come on, princess." Dick hums sweetly. "Let me worship those pretty fucking tits before I leave."

Dick leans down, breath fanning across your chest before his tongue drags along one of your sensitive nipples, and he watches the way your face screws up, biting your bottom lip to stifle any sounds.

And you look at Dick from beneath your lashes, bleary eyes and rosy lips and he groans low.

A rumble in his chest that has your needy pussy pushing out a trickle of slick.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get you pregnant again." His lips latch onto the sensitive nub, his free hand moving to palm your other breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Fuck that, I'll get you pregnant anyway."

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#sobbingscripter #dc comics #dc smut #dc comics x reader #dc comics smut #dc comics nightwing #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing smut #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson nightwing #dc dick grayson #dick grayson x you smut

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viaxslz · 1 month ago

Text

. 【 ARRANGED ℳARRIAGE 】

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 !reader, cw: arranged marriage au, angst to fluff (ig), strangers to lovers (if that’s what they call it), super duber long (have this so I can disappear for a month), not proofread :P, Maknae line ver.

BANG CHAN

Your routines were simple. Wake up late, eat breakfast, get ready for work, evacuate the house, come back home, eat and sleep. It was a cycle that repeated itself every single day. You mainly did this to avoid any form of conversation or interaction with Chan. Being forced into an arranged marriage was something you wouldn’t even wish upon your enemy. Chan didn’t even look interested in this marriage. It was more like he was doing this because his family wanted him to and he had no choice. But slowly things started to change. Your conversations which Chan seemed to extend longer than usual, usually it would last for about 3 minutes that was the highest but recently you noticed and increase in the duration everyday. From 3 minutes to 5 minutes to 10 minutes now to 30 minutes. Chan also became less cold and blunt towards you, you swore whenever you talked you saw a hint of softness in his eyes. One day, the shift became way too obvious to ignore. You were eating cereal straight from the box on the couch, hair a mess, wearing an old hoodie that said “I paused my game for this?” when Chan casually walked in, ruffled your hair, and said, “You’re cute like this.” You swore almost choked on a cornflake. He gave you a sheepish grin, as if he hadn’t just dropped a flirt bomb out of nowhere and walked off to the kitchen like he didn’t just rearrange your brain chemistry. From then on, it only got weirder. One morning you found a sticky note on the fridge that read: "Good morning! Eat breakfast. You’re not allowed to die before me. –Chan” You stared at it for a full minute before whispering, “Was that…romantic or threatening?” You couldn’t tell anymore. Chan also started lingering. Like standing outside your room awkwardly like a lost Sims character, waiting for you to notice him. And when you finally did, he’d ask, “So… how was work?” and then stay for the answer. And the final straw? You caught him watching a YouTube video titled “How to flirt with your spouse (and not sound like a weirdo).” He turned around so fast when he noticed you standing there that he knocked over a chair. “THIS IS FOR A FRIEND!” “Sure, Christopher.” Now? You still wake up late, still eat cereal like a gremlin, but now Chan’s sitting next to you, stealing handfuls from the box and resting his head on your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And yeah, maybe the arranged marriage wasn’t so bad after all. Especially when your husband starts looking at you like you’re the reason he agreed to it in the first place.

LEE KNOW

Lee Know – CEO (aka the cat dad you didn’t ask for). Your marriage to Lee Know was less “till death do us part” and more “let’s pretend the other doesn’t exist unless absolutely necessary.” You weren’t sure if you married a man or a ghost in an expensive suit. Minho, ever the picture-perfect CEO, moved with the kind of grace that said, *I don’t have time for nonsense unless it’s my cats.* You’d see him in the mornings at exactly 6:45 a.m., sipping black coffee and reading through emails like the fate of the universe rested on quarterly revenue reports. You, meanwhile, woke up at 8:03, tripped over a charging cable, and once accidentally brushed your teeth with face cleanser. Communication between you two? Nonexistent. Unless you count: “The driver’s waiting.” “Your meeting’s in 10.” “Don’t forget to sign the documents.” And your personal favorite: the silent nod of disapproval when you wore mismatched socks. He didn’t seem cruel just cold. Calculated. As if this marriage was a merger he didn’t sign off on but was forced to green-light. But you noticed things. Like how your favorite snacks were always restocked, even when you never said a word. Or how your broken phone charger suddenly got replaced, still in its package, with a Post-it that simply said: Don’t electrocute yourself. Romantic. It wasn’t until the company hosted its annual gala that things really shifted. You wore an elegant outfit, sleek and simple. Nothing dramatic until Minho saw you and paused mid-conversation. His jaw actually dropped for a millisecond before he pulled it together and muttered, “…you look decent.” That was Lee Know language for breathtaking. But the real kicker? Midway through the gala, when some investor’s son got a little too friendly with you, you saw Minho appear out of nowhere like a well-dressed Batman. Hand on your waist. Voice dangerously low.“Back off. That’s my wife.” Your brain short-circuited. His hand stayed there the entire night. From that day, the cold war melted into something else. Minho started waiting for you before leaving the house. Sometimes he’d wordlessly hand you a protein bar. Other times he’d drop sarcastic compliments like: “Wow, you finally brushed your hair today. I’m shocked.” “Your socks actually match. Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” “Don’t trip on your own confidence.” But his eyes softened. His tone gentled. And sometimes, you’d catch him staring not annoyed, but like he was memorizing something. Then came the day you got sick. Like, knock-out-fever, can’t-move-from-bed sick. You were expecting silence, maybe a text from his assistant at most. Instead, you woke up to Minho sitting next to your bed, laptop balanced on one knee, feeding you soup with the other hand like it was just another meeting. You croaked, “Aren’t you busy?” He didn’t look at you. “Already canceled everything. Don’t be annoying, just eat.” That was the moment. You didn’t say anything then, but you knew. And then… the Instagram post happened. Minho, known for a perfectly curated CEO Instagram filled with black-and-white office photos, coffee mugs, and the occasional blurry cat picture, uploaded a photo of you. You were half-asleep on the couch, cuddling Soonie, with a blanket barely covering your legs. The caption? “I don’t like people. But I think I like her.” \#MarriedLife #MaybeNotSoBad #SheFeedsMyCats. You nearly threw your phone out the window. When you confronted him, red-faced and holding back a laugh, he shrugged. “Well, it’s true. Then, under his breath: “…I think I like you too.” Now your routines are a little different. You still trip over things. He still acts like sarcasm is his love language. But there are sleepy morning cuddles, late-night cat videos in bed, and coffee cups with “CEO’s favorite person” scribbled on them. And Minho? He’s not just your husband now. He’s the one who kisses your forehead when you think he’s mad. The one who takes photos of you doing mundane things and keeps them in a locked album. The one who now smiles when he says, “Don’t be late. I’ll wait for you.”

Arranged or not, it turns out love can grow even between a grumpy CEO and the chaotic disaster he calls his wife. And he wouldn't trade it (or you) for anything. Except maybe a fourth cat.

CHANGBIN

Seo Changbin – arranged marriage (aka gym rat husband with too many protein bars). You didn’t hate him. You just… didn’t know him. Which was a problem, considering you were now legally married. Changbin wasn’t cold or rude like you’d expected. If anything, he was too nice. The kind of awkward polite that made everything ten times weirder. “Good morning,” he’d say with a stiff nod, standing in the hallway like a guest in his own home. “Did you, uh… sleep well?” You’d blink blearily at him with toothpaste foam in your mouth and give a thumbs up. He’d smile like that was a full sentence. The routine settled fast: wake up, avoid eye contact, eat in silence, exist in separate rooms, occasionally bump into each other in the hallway and say things like “Nice weather,” even when it was raining. Changbin filled the space between you two with noise. his music, his workouts, the sound of protein shake bottles being aggressively shaken at 7 a.m. like maracas of doom. He was the kind of guy who labeled his snacks, used coasters religiously, and never left a dish in the sink. But you couldn’t hate it. You wanted to. It would’ve made things easier. But the thing is… Changbin was gentle. Soft voice. Softer eyes. Always said “excuse me” even when it wasn’t necessary. Even the cats that wandered into your neighborhood liked him. Betrayers. You tried to keep things distant. Professional. Emotionless. But one day, you came home soaked from the rain, your umbrella snapped, your bag drenched, and your patience gone. And instead of ignoring it, Changbin ran over with a towel, pulled you inside, and scolded you like a wet child. “You could’ve gotten sick! Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come to get you!” “…You don’t even have my number.” That night, he saved his contact in your phone as “Husband #1 (limited edition)” and made you ramen while you wore his hoodie. It snowballed from there. He started leaving post-it notes everywhere: “Don’t forget lunch , you’ll faint and I’ll be blamed.” “I put your socks in the dryer. You’re welcome.” “If you steal my protein bar again, I’ll sue. Just kidding (unless you do it again).” You started sitting with him during his gym sessions just to annoy him, asking things like: “Do you lift with emotion or spite?” “Is that your workout face or your constipation face?” “How do your arms fit into sleeves??” He’d throw a towel at your face and mutter, “I married a menace.” But he was smiling. The turning point came when you were crying. It wasn’t dramatic. You just had a rough day. work stress, a canceled plan, someone yelling at you over something dumb and you couldn’t keep it in. You thought you’d locked your bedroom door, but Changbin knocked softly and peeked in anyway. No words. He just sat beside you, offered his hoodie sleeve, and let you cry without asking questions. You sobbed, “Why are you so nice to me?” And he said, “…Because I care, even if I didn’t expect to.” You didn’t say anything. But after that, everything changed. You started eating meals together. Watching movies. Going on “we’re-not-dates” that somehow felt like dates. He even started letting you share his snacks (a big deal, honestly). Then one night, while the two of you sat on the floor playing some dumb board game you found in the back of a closet, you asked, “Do you ever regret this? Us?” He looked at you for a long time. “No,” he said quietly. “I just wish I knew you sooner.” Now? He still works out at 7 a.m., and you still mock him for drinking stuff that smells like blended chalk. But he wraps an arm around you when he sleeps, leaves space in the fridge for your impulsive dessert buys, and kisses your forehead like it’s a habit he never wants to break. It wasn’t love at first sight. But it’s love now. And if anyone ever dares say this marriage wasn’t built on something real, Changbin will fight them. With emotional damage and biceps.

HYUNJIN

Hwang Hyunjin – arranged marriage (aka dramatic art husband with a tragic monologue for everything)nYou expected drama when you were told you'd be marrying Hwang Hyunjin. The man was a walking poem. A painting come to life. The human embodiment of “I only drink rainwater and cry to Debussy." What you didn’t expect was silence. Not elegant, movie-worthy silence. Just… plain awkward silence. The kind where you’d both walk into the kitchen, lock eyes for 0.3 seconds, and then pretend the fridge was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. Hyunjin wasn’t rude. He was polite, respectful, a little stiff but always civil. He said “good morning” and “sleep well” like it was scripted. You once sneezed, and he bowed and said, “Bless you,” as if you’d just performed Hamlet on Broadway. He spent most of his time in his art studio, which you weren’t allowed to enter. You learned this the hard way when you knocked once and were met with, “Please… not now. The muse is fleeing.” You closed the door slowly, wondering if “the muse” was a metaphor or a literal pigeon. The tension was suffocating. You were two strangers sharing a home, avoiding each other like roommates in a haunted house. The most intimate you got was when you both reached for the soy sauce at dinner and almost touched fingers. He gasped. You blinked. It was chaos. But then you got sick. Nothing serious, just a fever. But you passed out in the hallway and woke up to a flurry of blankets, cold compresses, and the sight of Hyunjin frantically whispering, “You’re not allowed to die. That would be… tragically inconvenient.” After that? Something cracked. He started hovering. “Are you cold?” “Did you eat?” “Here, I painted you this because your eyes looked sad yesterday.” It was a painting of a wilted flower with a single sunbeam touching it. Dramatic. Excessive. Ridiculously beautiful. You teared up. “This is about me?” He looked away, ears red. “…It might be. The man began spiraling in affection. He’d leave sketches outside your door like secret admirer notes. He’d watch you while you read, then pretend he wasn’t when you looked up. You caught him once writing a poem that included your name and the phrase “gentle destruction” and he nearly swallowed his pen in panic. And then… the art studio. One evening, he called you in. Nervous. Fidgety. Hair tied up, hands covered in paint. You stepped inside, expecting portraits or abstract chaos. Instead, you saw you. Dozens of versions of you. Sleeping. Laughing. Crying. Even one of you brushing your teeth, titled: “The Mundane Divine.” You turned slowly. “Hyunjin…” He bit his lip. “I hated this marriage at first. I didn’t want to be forced into anything. But then I saw you. Really and i…” “You’re in love with me.” He blinked. “That was going to be the last line of my speech, but yes.” You stood there, heart pounding, eyes stinging, realizing that this man, this soft, dramatic, chaotic whirlwind of a man had fallen for you in silence. Through stolen glances and paintbrushes. Through unspoken worries and 3 a.m. tea offerings. You walked over, paint-stained floor forgotten, and kissed him. Soft, real, wordless.His eyes widened. Then fluttered shut. “Finally,” he whispered. “The muse returns.” Now? You still find random sketches of yourself everywhere. He still monologues about cereal choices like they’re Shakespearean tragedies. But he holds your hand like it’s art, kisses your forehead like you’re sacred, and calls you his “greatest masterpiece” when he thinks you’re asleep. Arranged marriage? Maybe. But it was never forced love. With Hyunjin, love was always waiting. It just needed a little time and a very dramatic entrance.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fanfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff

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cod-indulgences · 4 months ago

Note

Hear me out reader in a sundress no panties.

TF141 x female!reader, poly tf141, no panties, blowjobs, denial, oral, outdoor/public sex, light humiliation, shower sex, light Dom/sub, multiple orgasms

John greets you in the morning with a kiss, and when you cheekily flash him, lifting your skirt to show the little hidden slice of your pussy, he sets his coffee down and pulls you into his lap.

"Trouble," he calls you, and drags you down hard against his groin, making you whine at the friction of thick denim on your bare flesh. "No, no getting up- you're the one who wanted some attention," and he pulls your hips back and forth, your folds spreading open, and kisses you hard to muffle your moaning. He does this until you're gasping and leaking, a damp streak on his pants, straps of your dress falling down and a breast almost exposed, then kicks you off his lap and onto the floor. You suck his cock there, his feet between your legs to keep them apart and his big hand holding your wrists together, the other pumping your head up and down, unable to touch yourself. Your pussy is wet and throbbing with slick as you choke, taking John's cock hard and fast before he groans and comes, pulling you back to take the last spurts over your lips and chin.

You're dazed as he stands you back up- you'd been planning to seduce and tease, not the other way around- and he pats your ass and sends you out of the room.

Kyle is in the living room, reading, and when you stumble in with come on your face he gapes, the book dropping to the floor. He's on you in an instant, popping your tits out of your dress and sucking your nipples, making you moan as more pleasure joins the heat in your body. He's so good, teasing your nipples with his teeth, squeezing your breasts together, sucking on the round undersides. You recline on the same couch he'd been reading on as he goes to his knees.

He flips your skirt up, and stares, seeing not the damp panties he expected but instead a bare and soaked pussy. He grins, delighted, and promptly begins sucking your clit just like he did your nipples- fast, wet, flicking with his tongue and teasing his teeth around it. You buck your hips, keening when he slips a finger inside and pushes up and in. You're soaking his chin, so close to coming, thighs trembling over his shoulders when Kyle pulls away.

You moan, reaching for him, and he shushes you and rolls you over. "Calm down, just getting you where I want you," he says, and lifts your hips so your ass is in the air. You wiggle it, and are rewarded with his cock slipping through your wet folds and inside you. Big, hot and heavy, perfect as he pounds into you, his balls slapping against your clit. You're brought right back up, and moan in gratitude as your orgasm rolls over you.

Kyle doesn't stop, picking up speed as your pussy clamps and gushes around his cock, and you feel his hips stutter as he gets close. You clench down deliberately, squeezing his cock, and he shouts as he comes, holding you down onto the couch as he spurts inside you, pulling out to decorate your ass with more of his come.

He gathers you up in a hug, kissing you, licking the drying come off your cheek. "Soaps outside," he murmurs, "who not go say hello," and before you can stop him he's whipping you around and all but throwing you out the door. It shuts behind you with a click of the lock, and you shriek and try to fix your dress, tits bouncing as you yank the straps up and straighten the skirt.

Johnny is standing at the edge of the big flowerbed, laughing, and comes up to cuddle you. "Aw lovie, did you get a little fucking already?" He peers at the remaining come on your face, and smirks. "Who's got you so far?"

"Uh, John, and Kyle," you mumble, cheeks flaming. Johnny gets his hands on your ass, and you squeak. "Johnny! We're outside!"

"So what? You're the one who came out here. Practically begging for it, really," and he squeezes your ass. You feel the moment he realizes there's only skirt and skin, and he slips his hands under, smearing Kyle's come. You stand there, hiding your face in his chest, as he gropes you, making your ass bounce as he lifts and lets go, spreading your cheeks apart and rubbing his finger on your hole, around your pussy. You're dripping again, legs forced open by his just like John had, and whine and whimper as he teases you. It's insultingly easy how fast you don't care about being outside, your hips rocking back to get more from him, and Johnny just laughs and steps back, leaving you gasping.

He puts you on your back in the flowerbed, next to the big bushes, and you cover your face in humiliation as he gets his shorts down and fucks you right there, the leafy branches all that keeps you from being fully seen by the road. You're so wet and sloppy with your own come and Kyle's that Johnny can just slide right in, fucking you with the sort of loud squelches that make your belly tighten. He gets one of your legs up on his shoulder, fuck, you know that's visible, and grins at you as he thumbs your clit, moaning when you shudder and come. The dirt under your ass sticks to you with sweat, and you can feel something caught in your hair, but you don't care at all because Johnny is still playing with your clit and you're coming, coming, coming.

He groans and finally spills inside you, and you whimper when he pulls out and a gush of come squeezes from your pussy, joining the damp mess already sticking to your groin and thighs. "Need a shower, sweetheart," Johnny asks, and props you up on your knees. Slick and come hang in thick ropes from your cunt, and you pant up at him as he swipes it up with his fingers and smears it over your throat and breasts. His fingers are dirty, and you can feel the itch as soil scrapes onto your skin with it.

You don't bother hiding yourself when he stands you up, too dazed, and Johnny fixes your dress a little. You stumble back to the house as he kisses your cheek, a flower bud tucked behind your ear, and try the door to find it unlocked again.

Simon is waiting for you, raising his eyebrows at the sight. Hair wild, dirt and mud on your legs, back, ass; your face still has a stubborn bit of come stuck to it, more on your thighs and wiped across your chest. Your pussy throbs when he holds up his phone, the camera shutter clicking rapidly. "Shower?" You beg, and he nods and picks you up, letting your bare feet dangle as he carries you upstairs.

The shower stall is big enough for three, and Simon turns you under the spray, rinsing off all the evidence of your very energetic morning. You sigh and lean on him as he moves your body, lifting arms and legs, and moan when he points the spray between your thighs.

"Good, baby?"

You nod, half-drunk on sensations, and he cuddles you up against his big, warm body and holds you, letting you pant and moan. The hot spray is divine against your pussy, sore after two cocks, and you feel your clit throb as the stream of water plays over it. Simon doesn't let you move though, keeps you right there, his cock rising up hard and hot against your belly. He kisses you, sucking at your tongue, and when you moan and arch your back he urges you to sit, back to his chest, and works his cock inside as you whimper. He's too big, you're too sore, but he holds you with those immovable hands and puts himself inside anyway.

You whine and moan around him, pussy fluttering, and when he gets the showerhead back and aims it at your clit you nearly thrash right off his cock again. Simon catches you around your waist, keeping you all the way down, and you clamp and squeeze as the hot water suddenly begins to pulse, a sharp, needle-like spray over your little bud. He groans and squeezes your breast as you come, eyes rolling as your pussy throbs and gushes slick, washed away by the spray, angling your hips up as he sets the showerhead down to fuck into you properly.

You let him use your poor aching cunt like a fleshlight, whimpering when he bottoms out, and limply drape over his body when he comes, staying deep inside. Only a little trickle follows his cock when he softens and pulls out, and Simon gently wipes it away, turning off the water.

He carries you into the bedroom still damp, and you slide under the sheets with a grateful sigh.

TikTok was right, the no-panties challenge was very fun.

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kyunghwannie · 2 months ago

Text

Love Production💫

TWICE's Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader

➤Word Count: Approximately 18.8K+

➤Tags: Deepthroat, Outercourse, Sensation Play, Choking, Breeding, Impact Play (Spanking), Face Off, Reverse Cowgirl, Prone bone, Missionary, Doggy Style, Rough Anal Penetration, Creampie, Carry fucking, Squirting, Facial

➤Description: You have been a valuable asset of JYPE due to your contributions to their big artists like Stray Kids, ITZY. But you primarily were TWICE's main producer. And now, Tzuyu was having her solo debut "abouTZU" which is being lead produced by you. And during the recording time and production of her title track, You and her surely didn't only produce a song for her but something else in your heart as well

The hum of the fluorescent lights in the JYPE office building echoed faintly in the otherwise still night. You were seated at your desk in the producer's lounge, surrounded by an organized chaos of sheet music, sound mixers, and a half-empty coffee mug. The clock read 11:47 PM, but time felt irrelevant in the world of music production, where creativity often struck when the rest of the world was asleep.

You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head, a soft groan escaping your lips. Another long day, but you didn't mind. Producing music for TWICE was both a privilege and a challenge, and you relished every moment of it. The group's diverse talents kept you on your toes, and their latest project-a solo album for a special someone-was no exception.

Tzuyu.

You'd worked with her countless times before, but there was something different about this project. It wasn't just that it was her first solo venture; it was her attitude. Despite being the youngest member of TWICE, she carried herself with a quiet confidence that often left people in awe. And yet, there was a vulnerability about her-something she rarely let slip but couldn't entirely hide. A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Y/N: "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Tzuyu stepped in, her figure framed by the warm glow of the hallway lights. She was dressed casually in an oversized hoodie and jeans, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Despite her simple attire, she radiated an effortless elegance that made you pause for a moment.

Tzuyu: "I hope I'm not interrupting."

You shook your head, gesturing for her to come in.

Y/N: "Not at all. I was just going over some tracks for tomorrow's session."

She stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. Her gaze flickered to the cluttered desk, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Tzuyu: "You work too much."

Y/N: "Says the idol who spends half her life in dance practice and the other half recording."

She chuckled, the sound light and melodic, as she took a seat on the couch across from you.

Tzuyu: "Touché. But at least I get breaks. When was the last time you took one?"

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees.

Y/N: "Breaks are overrated. Besides, someone has to make sure your album sounds perfect."

Her cheeks tinted a faint pink at your words, and she quickly looked away, pretending to study the guitar leaning against the wall.

Tzuyu: "No pressure, right?"

Y/N: "Pressure? Nah. If anything, it's exciting. You're ridiculously talented, Tzuyu. It's just about bringing that out in the music."

She glanced back at you, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but decided against it. Instead, she settled for a quiet "thank you," her voice almost too soft to hear. The room fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came with familiarity. You'd known Tzuyu for years, ever since you joined JYPE as a producer. Back then, you were just a fresh face trying to prove yourself, and TWICE was already a global phenomenon. Despite the overwhelming star power, Tzuyu had always been approachable, though reserved. Over time, you'd built a rapport-a professional camaraderie that occasionally dipped into moments of genuine friendship. You admired her work ethic and her ability to stay grounded despite the chaos of fame.

Y/N: "So, what brings you here this late?"

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.

Tzuyu: "I couldn't sleep. And I figured you'd be here."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Y/N: "What gave it away? The never-ending coffee supply?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

Tzuyu: "That, and you're predictable."

Y/N: "Ouch. Should I be offended?"

Tzuyu: "No, it's... comforting, actually. Knowing you're always around."

Her words caught you off guard, but you quickly recovered, offering a lighthearted grin.

Y/N: "Well, someone has to keep you idols in check."

She rolled her eyes but didn't respond, her gaze drifting to the window. The city lights shimmered in the distance, casting a soft glow that reflected in her eyes. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Tzuyu: "Do you ever feel like... you're not enough?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You straightened in your seat, studying her expression.

Y/N: "Is this about the album?"

She shook her head, her hands clasping tightly in her lap.

Tzuyu: "It's everything. Being in TWICE, living up to expectations, trying to prove that I'm more than just the youngest member or 'the visual.' Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it's not enough."

Her vulnerability took you by surprise. Tzuyu was always so composed, so poised. Seeing her like this-raw and uncertain-made your chest tighten. You leaned forward, resting your arms on your knees as you spoke.

Y/N: "Tzuyu, listen to me. You're more than enough. You're talented, hardworking, and you care about what you do. That's all that matters. And anyone who doesn't see that? They're not worth your time."

Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw them glisten with unshed tears.

Tzuyu: "Do you really think so?"

Y/N: "I know so. And if you ever need a reminder, just come find me. I'll set you straight."

A small smile broke through her solemn expression, and she nodded.

Tzuyu: "Thank you, Y/N."

Y/N: "Anytime."

The tension in the room eased, replaced by a newfound sense of connection. You weren't sure what had prompted her to open up, but you were glad she had. Tzuyu was strong, but even the strongest people needed someone to lean on sometimes.

She stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her hoodie.

Tzuyu: "I should probably let you get back to work."

You shook your head, gesturing to the empty chair across from you.

Y/N: "Stay. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

She hesitated for a moment before sitting back down, her posture more relaxed this time.

Tzuyu: "Alright. But only if you promise to take a break soon."

Y/N: "Deal."

The two of you exchanged smiles, the air between you lighter now. As the rain began to patter softly against the window, you couldn't help but feel like this was the start of something different-something more.

The clock on the studio wall ticked past midnight, its hands moving steadily into the early hours of the morning. The dimly lit room was filled with the soft hum of equipment and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. You sat behind the mixing console, adjusting levels and fine-tuning the track for Tzuyu's solo song, "Run Away." The lead single from her debut mini-album, abouTZU, it was a synth-pop track with nostalgic piano melodies and a bold synth bass that evoked a sound reminiscent of the late 2000s to mid-2010s. Tzuyu stood in the recording booth, her headphones snug over her ears, and a focused expression on her face. She had been practicing the song tirelessly, determined to deliver a performance that would captivate her audience and showcase her growth as an artist.

Y/N: "Alright, Tzuyu, let's take it from the top. Remember to channel the emotion we discussed earlier. Feel the lyrics and let them guide your voice."

She nodded, her eyes meeting yours through the glass window separating the booth from the control room. The instrumental intro began to play, the nostalgic piano melodies setting the tone. As the verse approached, Tzuyu took a deep breath and began to sing.

Tzuyu: "이건 내 warning 날 향한 네 yearning. 정말 확실한 건지 널 내게 turn in, 한 후엔 no turning back..."

Her voice was clear and melodic, but there was a hint of hesitation, a barrier preventing her from fully immersing herself in the song's emotion. You stopped the track and pressed the talkback button.

Y/N: "That was good, but I think you can dig deeper. This song is about yearning and the desire to escape. Try to connect with those feelings and let them come through in your performance."

Tzuyu bit her lip, nodding slowly. She closed her eyes for a moment, as if searching within herself for the emotions needed to convey the song's message.

Tzuyu: "Okay, I'll try again."

The track restarted, and this time, as she sang, there was a noticeable difference. Her voice carried a depth of emotion that resonated with the song's themes. You could feel the yearning in her tone, the desire to break free and run away from the constraints holding her back.

Tzuyu: "Run, run away. I'll give you a chance before it's too late. Once you're in my arms, You will beg, beg to stay..."

As the chorus approached, she poured her heart into the performance, her voice soaring with passion. You watched, captivated by the transformation. This was the Tzuyu you knew she could be-vulnerable, expressive, and utterly compelling. When the song ended, there was a moment of silence. Tzuyu looked up, her eyes searching for your reaction.

Y/N: "That was incredible, Tzuyu. You really brought the song to life."

A shy smile spread across her face, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Tzuyu: "Thank you. I felt more connected that time."

Y/N: "It definitely showed. Let's do a few more takes to capture that same energy, and I think we'll have it."

Over the next hour, Tzuyu delivered several more stellar performances, each one imbued with the same emotional depth. As the final notes of the last take faded, you leaned back in your chair, a sense of satisfaction washing over you.

Y/N: "I think we've got everything we need. Great job tonight."

Tzuyu stepped out of the booth, her face flushed with exertion but glowing with pride.

Tzuyu: smiles at you "I couldn't have done it without your guidance. Thank you for pushing me to dig deeper."

Y/N: "It's all you, Tzuyu. I just helped you find what was already there."

She looked down, a hint of bashfulness in her expression.

Tzuyu: "Still, I appreciate it."

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest at her gratitude.

Y/N: "Anytime. Now, how about we take a break? I think we've earned it."

She nodded, and the two of you settled into the studio's lounge area, the atmosphere relaxed and comfortable.

Tzuyu: "You know, this song means a lot to me. It's about wanting to escape, to find freedom. Sometimes, with all the pressures of being an idol, I feel that way."

Her admission was candid, and you felt honored that she trusted you enough to share her feelings.

Y/N: "I can understand that. It's important to have an outlet, a way to express those feelings. Music can be that escape."

She looked at you, her eyes reflecting a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude.

Tzuyu: "I'm glad I have someone like you to help me through it."

The connection between you deepened in that moment, a shared understanding passing silently between you.

Y/N: "And I'm glad to be here for you."

As the night wore on, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment. In the quiet intimacy of the studio, amidst the shared passion for music, something new and beautiful began to blossom. The low hum of the studio was replaced with an eerie silence after Tzuyu finished the last take for her solo track. You turned away from the mixing desk, stretching your back as the weight of the late hour finally caught up to you. Your fingers ached from adjusting levels all night, but there was a sense of accomplishment, of creative fulfillment that came with a job well done. You glanced at the clock on the wall: 2:45 AM. Tzuyu stepped out of the recording booth, her light footsteps padding softly on the polished floor. She let out a yawn, her long hair slightly messy, her face flushed with a mixture of fatigue and satisfaction.

Tzuyu: "That was intense..."

She smiled, her eyes still soft with the lingering emotion of the song. You couldn't help but admire her, the way she could pour herself into her work, the quiet intensity in everything she did. She looked a little more vulnerable tonight-tired, but still glowing.

Y/N: "You did great, Tzuyu. I think we've got a perfect take. You really nailed the emotion in that last one."

Tzuyu tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her shoulders dropping in relief. She looked like she had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders during the recording, but now, there was a sense of ease in her expression.

Tzuyu: "Thank you... I was nervous at first, but... after you gave me that feedback, I felt like I could really let go."

She walked over to the lounge area, a small corner of the studio with a couple of couches and a table covered in snack wrappers and empty cups of coffee. You followed her, taking a seat across from her.

Y/N: "I'm glad. Sometimes, it's just about finding that moment where you can really connect with the music. You were amazing tonight."

Tzuyu smiled, and for a moment, the tiredness in her eyes was replaced by something else-gratitude, maybe even a little bashfulness. She picked up a half-empty bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and took a sip. The sound of the water pouring into the bottle felt almost therapeutic.

Tzuyu: "You know, I was kind of nervous about doing this solo album. Being a part of TWICE is one thing, but this... it feels more personal, you know?"

Y/N: "I get that. Being solo means you're fully in control of your sound, your image. It's a lot more vulnerable, but I think it's also a chance for people to see a different side of you. You've got this, Tzuyu."

She nodded thoughtfully, looking down at her water bottle. There was a pause, a quiet moment between the two of you where neither of you spoke. It felt peaceful, like a mutual understanding had passed between you. Tzuyu wasn't just the idol you worked with; she was someone who had her own fears and dreams, someone who trusted you to guide her through this new step in her career.

She leaned back on the couch, her arms resting on the back as she looked up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.

Tzuyu: "I guess... I never really talked about how overwhelming all of this can be. The expectations, the pressure... sometimes it feels like I'm just supposed to be this perfect image."

Y/N: "But you're not just an image, Tzuyu. You're human. And that's what makes your music so special. It's your voice, your heart that comes through in everything you do."

She turned her gaze back to you, her eyes soft and appreciative. There was something about the way she looked at you, a quiet vulnerability that made your chest tighten.

Tzuyu: "Thanks, Y/N. You always know just what to say."

You could feel the weight of the moment, the quiet understanding that hung in the air between you two. It wasn't the kind of bond you usually shared with colleagues. It was different. Tzuyu was always kind, but tonight there was something more-something more open. It made you wonder how long this had been growing, this unspoken connection between the two of you.

Y/N: "Well, someone's got to keep you grounded."

You chuckled lightly, trying to ease the growing tension. Tzuyu laughed softly, the sound light and melodic, and for a second, everything felt lighter. She reached over and grabbed a packet of chips from the table, her fingers brushing against the edge of your hand as she did. It was subtle, but it didn't go unnoticed. You both pulled your hands away quickly, but the air seemed charged for a split second.

Tzuyu: "You're right. Sometimes I feel like I need someone to remind me to breathe."

You took a moment to reflect on her words. For all her success, for all the grace and poise she carried herself with onstage, Tzuyu was still someone who had to fight through self-doubt and the overwhelming weight of expectations. She was only human, after all.

Y/N: "Well, I'm happy to remind you to breathe. Just make sure you take care of yourself too, okay? Music can be all-consuming, but you need time to just... be yourself."

Tzuyu smiled, her eyes meeting yours again. There was a warmth in her gaze, something that went beyond professional appreciation.

Tzuyu: "You're right. I think I forget that sometimes."

She sat up, moving a little closer, as if the closeness between you both was starting to feel more comfortable. The studio, which had felt like a sterile work environment just hours ago, suddenly felt like a space where time could slow down.

Tzuyu: "Can we take a little longer break? I don't want this night to end just yet."

You nodded, suddenly aware of how late it was. The recording session had gone on for hours, and yet, there was still this unspoken desire to extend the time you shared together, to keep talking and to share moments in this little studio world you two had created.

Y/N: "Yeah, I'd like that too."

Tzuyu smiled, and this time, it wasn't just a polite smile. It was one of genuine affection, one that made you feel warm inside. She scooted over so she was sitting closer to you, her legs brushing against yours as she settled into a more comfortable position. There was a small, playful spark in her eyes now, something that hinted at her usual playful demeanor but softened by the quiet mood of the moment.

The world outside felt like it had slowed down, the rain creating a sense of peace that allowed everything else to fade into the background. It was just you and Tzuyu in this small corner of the studio, sharing a moment of quiet comfort in the middle of the night. As the rain continued to pour outside, the rhythmic patter on the windows grew almost hypnotic, like a gentle lullaby coaxing the world to rest. Inside the studio, the atmosphere was warm and calm, and you found yourself sinking further into the comfort of the moment with Tzuyu. Her presence beside you felt effortless, like this was where you were meant to be-two people in the quiet, simply enjoying each other's company. Tzuyu stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. She looked over at you, her expression soft, and for a moment, the exhaustion from the recording session seemed to vanish. It was replaced by something more relaxed, more human.

Tzuyu: "I think... I think this is the most relaxed I've felt in a while." She shot you a wide smile.

You turned your head to face her, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'm glad you're able to unwind. It's been a long night, and you deserve it." Her eyes met yours, and this time, there was something deeper in the way she looked at you. Her gaze lingered for a moment too long, but neither of you seemed to mind. It felt natural, comfortable, like it was a continuation of the quiet bond you had started building hours ago.

Tzuyu: "It's rare that I get time like this... just to sit and talk. I'm always running around or on stage, but moments like these, where I'm just... here, with someone who gets it, feel nice."

Her words hung in the air, and they felt heavier than anything you'd heard in a long time. Tzuyu wasn't just talking about the music industry or her work. She was talking about the moments in life when you could truly connect with someone, when you didn't have to hide behind a persona or the noise of the world around you. You were just two people, existing in the same space, sharing a quiet, honest moment. You leaned back slightly on the couch, crossing your arms, allowing the peaceful moment to settle in.

Y/N: "I get it. You know, I've always admired how well you handle everything. You make it seem so effortless. But I also know that behind all that, you have moments like this-when you just want to breathe."

Tzuyu smiled softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her coffee cup.

Tzuyu:"I think everyone has those moments, right? When they just need to catch their breath?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. It was a humbling reminder that, no matter how successful someone might seem, they too had their quiet struggles, their moments of doubt. Tzuyu had just shared one of those with you. And that vulnerability, that openness, made her even more real, more relatable than she had ever been in the studio lights.

Y/N: "Of course. And you deserve to take those moments whenever you need them."

Tzuyu let out a small, content sigh, her gaze softening as she let her head rest against the back of the couch. The way she seemed to settle into the space beside you felt... natural, as if she were finding peace in the moment, in the quiet, in your company. There was a sense of trust here, a sense of calm between the two of you that had developed over the course of the night.

Tzuyu: "It's nice to just... be with someone who understands. I feel like I don't always have to explain myself. You know?"

The sincerity in her voice made your heart skip a beat. There was an intimacy in what she had just said, a rawness that made you feel incredibly close to her in that moment. You didn't need words to convey the understanding between you two. It was there in the way she held your gaze, the way she relaxed into the couch beside you. You could feel the air between you shift just slightly, like the space between you was shrinking, becoming more charged with something you couldn't quite put a name to.

Y/N: "I get that," you said softly. "I never want you to feel like you have to explain anything to me, Tzuyu. Not about your music, not about you..."

Tzuyu blinked a couple of times, her eyes softening further. She seemed almost... moved by your words. Her hand shifted slightly, now closer to yours, and for a brief moment, your fingers brushed against each other. It was a simple touch, but it sent a shiver through your body, something unspoken passing between you both. She looked down at her hand, then back up at you, a playful glint returning to her eyes.

Tzuyu: "You know, I think I like the way you see me. Like I'm not just Tzuyu to you as in TWICE."

The quiet intensity of her gaze made your heart race. She had caught you off guard with that statement, but it also made you realize something-you had never seen her as just another idol. Tzuyu was more than that, and tonight, it was impossible to deny how strong the connection between the two of you was becoming.

Y/N: "You're not just another idol to me, Tzuyu. Though iam honoured that you like smth about me at least"

She smiled again, this time a little more coy, a little more knowing. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as if she were contemplating something. You could feel the energy shift between you, the tension building as the moments stretched on.

Tzuyu: "Good. Because... I don't think I want to be just an idol to you."

You felt your pulse quicken at her words. The underlying meaning was clear, but neither of you had openly acknowledged it yet. Still, the words hung in the air, and the more you let them linger, the more you realized that you, too, were starting to feel something stronger than just professional admiration. Something deeper.

Y/N: "I think... I don't want you to be just an idol to me either."

The words felt like a revelation, like something that had been buried beneath layers of professionalism was finally surfacing. Tzuyu's eyes softened at your confession, her lips curling into a smile that was both gentle and full of promise. She moved just a little closer, her hand resting a little closer to yours. You could feel the warmth of her proximity, the electricity that seemed to crackle between you. Her hand gently brushed against yours again, this time lingering for just a heartbeat longer. And then, her fingers curled lightly around yours, a silent invitation for you to hold her hand. And you did.

The night was winding down, but the energy between you and Tzuyu hadn't quite fizzled out. The rain had softened into a steady patter against the windows, and the dim lights of the studio illuminated the room in a soft glow. You both sat close to one another, yet there was an undeniable distance between you two-one that was begging to be bridged. Tzuyu's hand, still resting lightly in yours, felt like the spark you'd been waiting for all night. The quiet tension between you two had grown, each moment stretching the boundaries of your professional relationship, moving it into something more.

Y/N: "Tzuyu..."

You spoke her name softly, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to break the silence. She turned her head to look at you, her eyes still soft but filled with curiosity. Her hand squeezed yours lightly, an unspoken invitation for you to continue.

Tzuyu: "Hmm?"

Her voice was soft, almost teasing, like she knew you were on the verge of saying something important. The air between you two felt thick with anticipation, but you didn't know where to begin. There was an almost magnetic pull between you and her, an invisible force drawing you in. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity, stretching the space between you two thinner and thinner.

Y/N: "You're... really something else, Tzuyu."

Tzuyu's eyes sparkled with mischief at your words. She raised an eyebrow, teasingly.

Tzuyu: "What do you mean?"

You glanced at her, noting how her lips curled into that coy smile, how her fingers still intertwined with yours, almost as if she were testing the waters. Her playfulness made you want to dive deeper, but you could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on you.

Y/N: "I mean... just... you." You let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck in nervousness. "I've been around a lot of people, Tzuyu. But there's something different about you. Something that... I don't know, makes me feel like I want to know you more. In a way that goes beyond just... work."

Tzuyu didn't speak right away. Instead, she regarded you with a thoughtful expression, her fingers playing gently with yours as if she were weighing your words.

Tzuyu: "I feel the same way."

Her words hit you like a wave, and your heart skipped a beat. The simple honesty of it made the room feel even smaller, more intimate. The barrier that had been there between you both-unspoken, but undeniably present-seemed to dissolve in that single sentence. The space between you two was suddenly charged. Her fingers tightened around yours, the contact sparking something deep within you. Your body leaned in just slightly, and she mirrored the movement without hesitation, closing the small gap between you. There was no longer any distance, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Tzuyu: "You're not like other people, you know that?"

You felt a soft laugh bubble up in your throat at her words. The way she said it was almost serious, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone.

Y/N: "You're not so bad yourself."

Tzuyu chuckled, her laughter melodic and warm. It made the atmosphere around you feel even more comforting. The way she was looking at you, the quiet intensity in her gaze, made your pulse quicken. She seemed to be studying you, reading the silent language between you both. And in that moment, you realized just how much you wanted to be closer to her. She leaned in, her lips just inches from your ear as she spoke softly.

Tzuyu: "Do you feel it too? The spark?"

You didn't even hesitate. Your voice was low and sincere as you nodded, your eyes locking with hers.

Y/N: "Yeah, I do."

And before either of you could say another word, the tension finally broke. Tzuyu closed the remaining distance, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tender but full of intention. It wasn't rushed or frantic-it was as if the world had paused just for the two of you. She pulled you closer, her free hand gently cupping your cheek, as if grounding her to you. Tzuyu's fingers slid up to your jaw, her touch light but deliberate. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the connection between you both intensifying with every second that passed. The world outside seemed to disappear, and it was just you and Tzuyu in that moment-two people who had been circling around each other for hours, waiting for the right time to finally close the gap. When you pulled away for a brief second, Tzuyu's eyes were wide, a mixture of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. Her lips were slightly parted, and she let out a small, shaky breath.

Tzuyu: "Wow. I didn't think it would feel like that."

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face as you leaned your forehead against hers.

Y/N: "Neither did I."

But the truth was, you both had known from the very beginning that this moment was inevitable. The sparks had been there from the start-the chemistry, the shared understanding, the quiet tension that had built up over time. And now, here you were, finally acknowledging what had been simmering beneath the surface all along. Tzuyu smiled softly, her hand now resting against your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart beneath her palm. Her touch was gentle, but there was an undeniable warmth radiating from her that made you feel grounded.

Tzuyu: "You... make me feel something I haven't felt in a long time."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in her words made your heart race. You felt your own emotions swell as you pulled her closer again, this time not as a colleague, not as an artist and producer-but as two people who had found something unexpected in each other.

Y/N: "I'm glad I'm here with you, Tzu." Her smile was all you needed. It was a promise, an unspoken vow that whatever this was-whatever it had become-it was real. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything in your life had finally clicked into place.

As the rain continued to pour outside, you stayed there with her, savoring the quiet, the closeness, and the feeling that something beautiful was just beginning. The studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint sound of rain against the windows. You had been sitting in front of your computer screen, reviewing Tzuyu's recent recordings for her upcoming solo album, but you couldn't focus. Your mind kept drifting back to her-the way she moved, the way she smiled, the way she seemed to carry herself with such grace and confidence. The longer you spent with her, the more you realized that there was something about her that made everything feel right.

Tzuyu had stepped out for a quick break, giving you the time you needed to clear your head. But it hadn't worked. The quiet space only gave you more time to think, to realize just how much you cared for her, how much you wanted to be close to her. And now, with her absence in the room, you couldn't ignore the truth any longer: You were falling for her. Hard. The door creaked open, and you looked up to see Tzuyu standing there, her long hair falling loosely around her shoulders. She had changed into a more comfortable outfit-a simple hoodie and jeans-but the way she carried herself still made her look effortlessly beautiful.

Tzuyu: "I'm back," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody. "Got caught up in a few things." You smiled, though you could feel the tension in the air between you both. The moments you shared earlier had been lighthearted, playful even, but now that she was back, it felt different. The atmosphere was thick with something unspoken. You both stood at the edge of something, neither one willing to take that first step.

Tzuyu moved to sit beside you at the desk, her gaze meeting yours. There was a softness in her eyes, but also a flicker of curiosity-like she could sense the shift in the air too. Her fingers brushed against yours as she reached for the coffee cup you had placed beside the keyboard. The touch sent a shock through your body, and you had to fight the urge to pull back, to avoid the growing tension between you two. You swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. You had been so sure of your feelings before, but now that the moment had come, you weren't sure what to say. The words were stuck in your throat, and you struggled to find the courage to speak them.

Y/N: "Tzuyu, there's something I need to tell you."

She paused, her hand frozen in mid-air as she looked at you. There was an intensity in her gaze, and for the first time, it felt like you were truly seen. The playful banter and the friendly gestures from earlier were gone, replaced with something deeper. Something real.

Tzuyu: "What is it?" Her voice was soft, almost tentative, like she was bracing herself for something important.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was it. This was the moment you had been avoiding, the moment where everything could change. You looked at her, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was the truth.

Y/N: "I've been trying to ignore it, to pretend like it's just... you know, nothing. But it's not nothing. Tzuyu, I... I think I'm falling for you. I know i said before that it was just liking and feeling the spark you talked about. But tbh, it felt like lying to myself because It's not only liking for you that i have."

The words hung in the air, heavy and uncertain, like they could shatter everything between you two. You watched her face closely, waiting for a reaction-any reaction. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel the nerves twisting in your stomach. Tzuyu didn't say anything for a long moment. She just sat there, staring at you with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if she was shocked, confused, or... something else entirely. You felt your anxiety rising, and before you could say anything else, she spoke.

Tzuyu: "You're... falling for me?"

The way she said it was gentle, almost like she was trying to understand it, to make sense of the words. Her voice was soft, and you could see a small blush creeping onto her cheeks even though her expression had concentration and subtle tension

Y/N: "Yeah," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know when it happened, but... it's been building up, and now I can't ignore it anymore. I care about you, Tzuyu. More than I should, maybe, but I do."

Tzuyu blinked a few times, clearly processing your confession. She let out a small, nervous laugh, her eyes not leaving yours.

Tzuyu: "I had a feeling... I mean, I've been feeling something too. But I didn't want to say anything because... well, I didn't know if you felt the same way."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You weren't alone in this. She felt it too. Her gaze finally softening as she leaned in closer. Her hand found yours again, and this time, you didn't pull away. You let her fingers intertwine with yours, the contact warm and reassuring.

Tzuyu: "I didn't want to admit it either, but... I really like you, Y/N. More than I thought I would."

The air between you two shifted again, this time in a way that made you feel lighter, more at ease. The tension had melted away, replaced by a gentle warmth that filled the room. You smiled, your thumb gently brushing against the back of her hand.

Y/N: "I'm glad... I was afraid I might have ruined everything by saying it."

Tzuyu shook her head, her smile growing wider.

Tzuyu: "No, you didn't ruin anything. I'm happy you said it."

There was a quiet moment where you both just sat there, hands still entwined, the weight of your confession sinking in. The uncertainty that had plagued the air earlier was gone now, replaced by a shared understanding. You both knew where this was going, and it felt... right.

Y/N: "So, what now?"

Tzuyu's eyes sparkled as she leaned in, her lips just barely grazing your ear.

Tzuyu: "Well... I think we should take it slow. But if you want, we can figure it out together."

You nodded, your heart swelling with happiness. She wasn't pulling away; she was leaning into this, just like you. And just like that, it felt like everything had fallen into place. You both leaned back into your seats, still holding hands, as the quiet music of the studio filled the space between you. The rain outside continued its steady rhythm, but inside, everything felt peaceful. You didn't need to rush. You didn't need to figure it all out right now. All that mattered was that, for the first time in a long time, you both understood each other-and that was enough.

---------

The quiet hum of the studio equipment fades into the background as Tzuyu’s fingers tighten around yours, her breath hitching ever so slightly. The air between you two crackles with something new—something hungry. Her dark eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up, a shy but unmistakable desire burning behind her gaze.

"Y/N…" Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with a nervous tremor. "I-I’ve never… done this before. But I want to. With you."

Your thumb strokes the back of her hand gently, reassuringly. "We don’t have to rush, Tzuyu. You did say we can take it slow. We can stop anytime—"

She shakes her head, cutting you off with a sudden boldness that surprises you both. Her free hand lifts, fingertips brushing against your jawline before sliding down your neck, over your collarbone, and finally resting against your chest. You can feel your heartbeat thundering under her palm. "I don’t want to stop, i changed my mind," she murmurs, her voice dropping lower, huskier. "I’ve thought about this… about you… too much."

Before you can respond, she leans in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that starts soft—hesitant—but quickly deepens as her tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for entry. You groan into her mouth, one hand tangling in her hair as the other grips her waist, pulling her closer until she’s straddling your lap. The heat of her body against yours is intoxicating, her hips grinding down instinctively, making your cock twitch painfully against the confines of your pants.

She breaks the kiss with a gasp, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen. "Fuck…" she breathes, eyes darting down to where your erection strains against your zipper. "I knew you’d be big, but—" Her fingers tremble as she undoes your belt, then your button, her breath coming in short, eager bursts. "Can I… see it?"

You nod, lifting your hips slightly to help her tug your pants and boxers down just enough for your cock to spring free, thick and already leaking at the tip. Tzuyu’s lips part in a silent gasp, her fingers wrapping around your shaft experimentally, giving it a slow, tentative stroke. A bead of pre-cum glistens at your slit, and before you can even process it, she leans down, her tongue darting out to lick it up with a soft "Mmmf~" that sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Shit, Tzuyu—" you choke out, hips bucking slightly as her warm, wet mouth closes around your tip, sucking gently. Her doe eyes flick up to yours, watching your reaction as she takes you deeper, her lips stretching obscenely around your girth. "Fuck, your mouth feels—ahh~!"

She moans around your cock, the vibration making your toes curl, and then—without warning—she pushes further, her nose brushing against your pelvis as she takes you all the way down her throat. Her eyes water, but she doesn’t pull back, her throat fluttering around you as she gags slightly before relaxing, adjusting. "Hnngh~! Tzuyu, you’re—fuck—you’re gonna make me cum if you keep—"

She pulls off with a lewd pop, saliva stringing from her lips to your cock as she pants, her voice wrecked already. "Good," she rasps, her fingers stroking you lazily. "I want to taste you… all of you." And then she dives back down, swallowing you whole again, her head bobbing faster now, her free hand cupping your balls, massaging them as she works your length with a desperation that belies her earlier shyness. The wet, filthy sounds of her throat taking you fill the studio, her muffled whimpers of "Nggh~! Mmmf—!" sending you hurtling toward the edge. You fist her hair, not forcing, just holding, as your hips jerk up involuntarily, fucking into her mouth. "Tzuyu, I’m—I’m gonna—"

She hums in response, her eyes fluttering shut as she takes you deeper, her throat milking you as you finally spill down it with a broken groan, your cum flooding her mouth in thick, hot pulses. She swallows every drop, her tongue lapping at your oversensitive tip until you’re twitching, oversensitive, pulling her off with a gasp. She sits back on her heels, lips glistening, chin slick with spit, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she meets your dazed gaze.

"Did… did I do okay?" she asks, voice small but her eyes gleaming with something smug, something hungry. You let out a breathless laugh, dragging her into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. "More than okay. Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me." She giggles—soft, sweet, and sinful—her fingers already trailing lower, toward the button of her own jeans. "Good. Because I’m not done with you yet."

Tzuyu pulls back from the kiss with a devilish glint in her eyes, her fingers already working the button of her jeans. She stands up slowly, swaying her hips just enough to make your mouth go dry as she shimmies out of the denim, revealing toned thighs and that mouthwateringly tight ass of hers—round, plush, and begging to be gripped. The way her panties cling to her curves makes your cock twitch again, already half-hard from the sight alone. "Like what you see?" she teases, biting her lower lip as she peels off her top next, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts—not big, but perky, perfectly shaped, her nipples already pebbled under the thin fabric of her bra—make your fingers itch to touch. She unhooks the clasp with practiced ease, letting the garment drop, and your breath catches.

Goddess. Absolute fucking goddess.

She steps closer, her bare skin glowing under the dim studio lights, her abdomen soft yet toned, her hips sinfully curved, leading your gaze downward like a temptation you can’t resist. She kneels between your legs again, her fingers tracing up your thighs before wrapping around your cock, already hardening again under her touch. "Y/N…" Her voice is sweet, almost innocent, but the way her thumb swipes over your leaking tip is anything but. "Can I try something?"

You nod, swallowing hard as she leans in, her lips brushing against your shaft before she looks up at you through her lashes, doe-eyed and demure—but the words that leave her mouth are anything but.

"I want to choke on it." Your brain short-circuits. Did she just—?

Before you can even process it, she’s taking you deep, too deep, her throat fluttering around you as she forces herself down until her nose presses into your pelvis. Tears bead at the corners of her eyes, but she doesn’t pull back, her fingers digging into your thighs as she holds herself there, gagging slightly before relaxing, her throat milking you. "F-fuck, Tzuyu—!" You instinctively thread your fingers through her hair, not pushing, just guiding, your voice strained. "You don’t have to—ahh~!—hurt yourself, Tzu."

She pulls off with a wet gasp, saliva dripping from her swollen lips, her chest heaving. "I like it," she admits, voice wrecked, her fingers stroking you lazily. "Feels… good. Like you’re claiming me." Your cock throbs at her words, at the filthy way she says them—so sweetly, so earnestly, like she’s confessing something sacred. You cup her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear.

"You’re perfect," you murmur, heart swelling as she nuzzles into your touch. "But I don’t want you to push too hard, okay? We go at your pace." She smiles—genuine, warm—before her expression shifts into something hungrier, her tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your length. "Then let me practice," she purrs, before swallowing you down again, deeper, slower, her throat working around you like she was made for this

. And as her head bobs, her moans vibrating against your cock, her free hand sneaking between her own thighs—fuck, is she touching herself?—you realize one thing with dizzying clarity: This angel-faced, soft-spoken, Tzuyu you think you knew? She’s a fucking needy slut for you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tzuyu pulls off your cock with a lewd, wet pop, her lips glistening with a mix of spit and your cum. She looks up at you through her lashes, her cheeks flushed, her breathing uneven—and there’s something unbearably smug in her expression as she licks her lips clean. "You came so fast," she murmurs, her voice a mix of awe and pride. "Was I… that good?"

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Too good," you admit, your thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip. "I didn’t expect you to be so… natural at this." She giggles—soft, sweet, but with an undercurrent of something darker, something hungry. Her hands trail up your thighs before she rises, straddling your lap again, her bare skin pressed flush against yours. The heat of her is intoxicating, her perky tits brushing against your chest as she leans in, her lips ghosting over yours. "I like it," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. "When you lose control because of me. It makes me feel… loved."

Your heart clenches at her words, at the raw honesty in them. You cup her face, pulling her into a slow, deep kiss, your tongue sliding against hers in a lazy dance. She melts into it, her fingers tangling in your hair, her hips grinding down against yours in slow, teasing circles. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark, her lips swollen. "I want to make love first," she murmurs, her fingers trailing down your chest. "Before we… fuck."

You blink, tilting your head. "What’s the difference?"

She bites her lip, her fingers hooking into the sides of her panties. Slowly, teasingly, she peels them off, revealing smooth, flawless skin, the faintest hint of pink between her thighs. Your mouth goes dry at the sight. "Making love is… slow," she explains, her voice trembling slightly as she guides your hand between her legs. "Gentle. Like you’re worshipping me." Her breath hitches as your fingers brush over her slick folds, her hips jerking slightly at the contact. "Fucking is… harder. Rougher. When you ruin me."

Your cock twitches against her thigh at her words, at the way her voice drops into something filthy despite her innocent face. But then her next words make your heart stop. "I’m a virgin," she admits, her eyes locked onto yours. "But… don’t worry about blood. My hymen tore a long time ago from using tampons." She swallows, her fingers tightening around yours. "I just… I want you to be my first. In every way." Your chest tightens, your grip on her hip unconsciously tightening. "Tzuyu…" She silences you with a kiss, her body pressing closer, her warmth seeping into you. "Please," she breathes against your lips. "I want to feel you. All of you."

You nod, your hands sliding down to grip her thighs, lifting her slightly as you shift, laying her back against the studio couch. Her breath comes in short, eager bursts as you hover over her, your eyes tracing every inch of her—her perfect tits, her toned stomach, the way her hips curve, the drenched heat between her thighs. You kiss her again, slow, deep, your hands mapping her body like you’re memorizing her. She arches into your touch, her nails digging into your shoulders as you trail kisses down her neck, her collarbone, finally taking one pert nipple into your mouth. She gasps, her back arching off the couch as you suck, your tongue flicking over the stiff peak.

"Ahh~! Y/N—!" Her voice is already wrecked, her hips grinding up against nothing, seeking friction. "P-please…" You smile against her skin, your hand sliding down her stomach, fingers dipping between her folds. She’s soaked, her arousal coating your fingers as you circle her clit, slow, teasing.

"You’re dripping, Tzuyu," you murmur, your thumb pressing down just hard enough to make her whimper. "All for me?" She nods frantically, her legs spreading wider, inviting you in. "A-all for you," she whines, her back arching as you slide a finger into her, her tight walls clenching around you. "F-fuck, more—!" You add a second finger, curling them just right, and her entire body jolts, her moans turning shrill, desperate. "Hahhh~! There, there, there—!"

You watch, mesmerized, as she falls apart under your touch, her orgasm crashing over her with a broken cry, her thighs trembling around your hand. She collapses back against the couch, her chest heaving, her skin flushed. You lean down, kissing her gently as she comes down, her fingers weakly tangling in your hair. "Ready?" you whisper against her lips. She nods, her eyes hazy but determined. "I want you inside me," she breathes. "Now."

You don’t make her wait. You line yourself up, your cock pressing against her entrance, and with one slow, agonizing thrust, you sink into her, her tight heat engulfing you.

She gasps, her nails digging into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you deeper. "Oh fuck—!" she chokes out, her walls fluttering around you. "S-so big—!" You groan, your forehead dropping to hers as you still, letting her adjust. "Okay?" you rasp, your voice strained with the effort of not pounding into her. She nods, her hips rolling experimentally, making you both groan. "M-move," she whimpers. "Please, move."

You obey, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in, slow, deep, worshipping her like she asked. Her breath hitches with every thrust, her moans soft, sweet, her body melting into yours. This—this is making love. The way she clings to you, the way her lips find yours in messy, desperate kisses, the way she whimpers your name like a prayer— And when her second orgasm hits, when she screams but trying to lower it, her walls milking you, you know— You’re ruined for anyone else. Just like she wanted.

Tzuyu's tight, velvety walls clench around your thick cock as she rides you in the intimate face-off position—her forehead pressed desperately against yours, her breath hot and ragged against your lips. Every slow, deep thrust draws a whimper from her swollen mouth, her nails digging crescent moons into your shoulders as she bounces in your lap, taking you deeper with each roll of her hips. "Y/N—ahh~! F-feels so... so good inside me," she gasps, her voice trembling with each upward grind of your cock against her sensitive walls. Her slick arousal coats your length, the lewd squelch of her dripping pussy filling the studio air as she clings to you, her body trembling on the edge of another climax.

You exhale sharply, your hands gripping her waist, guiding her movements—slow, deep, worshipping—just like she wanted. The way her tight cunt grips you, the way her breath hitches every time you bottom out inside her, the way her swollen clit rubs against your pelvis with every bounce— It’s maddening.

But despite the overwhelming pleasure, you force yourself to hold back, your teeth gritting as you slow her hips. "Tzuyu—fuck, I’m close, but you’re not on birth control—" She whines, her hips stuttering, her pussy clenching around you in protest. "N-no, please—I want you to—ahh~!—finish in me!" Her voice is desperate, her thighs shaking as she grinds down harder, her walls fluttering around you. You moan your fingers digging into her hips to still her. "Tzuyu, we can’t—"

She cuts you off with a frantic kiss, her tongue sliding against yours before she pulls back, her eyes dark with need. "M-my purse," she pants, nodding toward her bag on the studio table. "I—I have had pills. Emergency ones." You blink, stunned. "You... planned for this?" Her cheeks flush crimson, her lashes fluttering as she avoids your gaze. "I... might have thought about it. A lot." She bites her lip, her hips giving a slow, teasing roll that makes you groan. "I wanted to be ready... in case we ever... did this."

Your grip on her tightens, your cock throbbing inside her at her admission. "Fuck, Tzuyu—" You crush your lips to hers, your tongue delving deep as your hips snap up, harder now, no longer holding back. "You’re gonna be the death of me." She moans, her back arching as you fuck up into her with rough, claiming thrusts, her nails raking down your back. "Hahhh~! Yes, like that—fuck me, ruin me—!"

Her words send a jolt of white-hot lust straight to your cock, your thrusts turning brutal, possessive, your forehead still pressed to hers as you pound into her dripping cunt. Her moans turn shrill, her body quivering as her third orgasm rips through her, her walls milking you desperately. "C-cum in me," she sobs, her voice breaking as she clenches around you. "P-please, fill me—!"

You snapped like clip at her words, burying yourself to the hilt, your cock pulsing as you empty yourself inside her, thick ropes of cum flooding her tight channel. She whimpers, her body trembling as she takes every last drop, her own climax still wracking through her. When the aftershocks finally subside, she collapses against your chest, her breath coming in ragged pants, her sweat-slick skin pressed against yours. You hold her close, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her back as you both come down from the high.

After a long moment, she lifts her head, her lips curling into a shy, sated smile. "...So. That was making love and fucking." You chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And we’re definitely doing both again." She giggles, nuzzling into your neck. "Good. Because I’m not done with you yet." And as her fingers trail lower, her lips finding yours again, you realize one thing with absolute certainty— You’re fucked in the best way possible.

Tzuyu pulls back from your embrace with a mischievous glint in her eyes, her fingers already reaching for her discarded panties. She slides them back on with deliberate slowness, the fabric clinging to her still-damp folds as she bites her lip playfully. "Now you," she murmurs, nodding toward your boxers. "Put them back on."

You raise an eyebrow, confused but intrigued, as you tug your boxers up over your half-hard cock, the fabric straining slightly against your renewed arousal. Before you can ask what she's planning, Tzuyu straddles your lap again, this time with the thin barrier of clothing between you. She leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "I'm going to edge you until you're begging to be inside me again."

Her hips roll forward in a slow, torturous grind, the heat of her pussy pressing against your cock through the layers of fabric. The friction is maddening—not enough to push you over the edge, but just enough to keep you achingly hard, your breath hitching as she controls the pace with teasing precision. "F-fuck, Tzuyu—" you groan, your hands gripping her waist as she rides you through your boxers, her wetness seeping into the fabric. "You're killing me."

She giggles, her breath warm against your neck as she grinds down harder, her clit rubbing against the base of your cock with each movement. "Mmhn~... You like this, don't you?" Her voice is sweet, innocent, but the way she rolls her hips is anything but. "Feeling me so close but not letting you cum?" You grit your teeth, your cock throbbing beneath her, the pressure just shy of enough to tip you over. She’s taunting you, her movements calculated to keep you right on the edge, her own pleasure evident in the way her breath hitches with each grind. Then, without warning, she stops, her body stilling as she pulls back to look at you, her lips curled into a devilish smirk. "Oops. Too close?"

You exhald sharply almost like an airy groan, your fingers digging into her hips as you pinned her beneath you. Her eyes widen, her chest rising and falling rapidly as you hover over her, your voice a low, soft whisper, "Your playing a lot, Tzu. Like fire or something?" She grins, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pulls you closer, her voice a breathy whisper. "Then burn me." And just like that, the game resets—but this time, you're in control.

Tzuyu's breath hitches as your fingers hook into the waistband of her panties once more, peeling them down her toned thighs with deliberate slowness. The air between you crackles with anticipation as you reveal her glistening, shaved pussy—her delicate pink lips already swollen and dripping with arousal.

The sight makes your cock twitch painfully against your boxers, and with one swift motion, you push them down, freeing your thick length once more. You hover over her, caging her between your arms as you brush your nose against hers, your voice low and tender. "Tell me what you want. Hard? Or slow?" Her dark eyes search yours, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she considers your question. A shy smile tugs at her lips before she murmurs, "Start... mid. Then—ah—faster when I say." Her fingers trail down your chest, her touch featherlight. "I want to feel you build up inside me."

You nod, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before guiding your cock to her entrance, the head nudging against her slick folds. She gasps as you push in, her tight walls fluttering around you as you sink in slowly, giving her body time to adjust to your girth. Her breath comes in short, shaky bursts, her nails digging into your biceps as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. "O-oh fuck—" she whimpers, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you deeper. "Y-You feel... so big..."

You groan, your forehead dropping to hers as you begin to move—mid-paced, just as she asked. Each thrust is deep, measured, your cock dragging against her sensitive walls in a way that has her toes curling. Her breathy moans fill the studio, her hips lifting to meet yours with every roll of your hips. You watch her face—every flicker of pleasure, every bitten lip, every flutter of her lashes—as you make love to her. Your hands roam her body, memorizing every curve, every dip, your touch reverent. When your thumb brushes over her clit, she jolts, a broken cry tearing from her lips.

"Y/N—! R-right there—!. P-please, harder now—!" You obey, your thrusts growing more forceful, more urgent, but never rough—never without care. Your hips snap forward, driving into her with enough force to make the couch creak beneath you, but your hands cradle her face, your lips capturing hers in a searing kiss to swallow her moans.

She screams into your mouth, her walls fluttering wildly as her climax crashes over her, her body shaking beneath you. But you don’t stop—can’t stop—not when she’s clinging to you, her nails raking down your back as she sobs for more. "D-don’t stop—! Fuck, don’t stop—!" You won’t. Not until she’s begging you to.

Your thrusts falter for just a moment as your brain buzzes with arousal at her request—but concern still lingers at the edges of your lust-drunk mind. Your lips brush along the shell of her ear, your voice ragged but tender as you murmur, "Tzuyu... , are you sure you took the pill? It's—hnngh—it's safe? Despite me cumming in you earlier?" Her answer comes between gasps, her fingers tightening in your hair as she nods frantically. "Y-yes, yes—ahh~!—took it s-seven days ago... made sure—haah!—to be extra safe..." Her breath hitches as you grind deep, her walls fluttering around your cock as she arches beneath you. "W-wanted—wanted you to breed me... fill me up... please—!"

The raw desperation in her voice sends a jolt of white-hot need straight to your cock. You pull back just enough to see her face—her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in swollen, panting breaths, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at you with pure devotion. The sight of her like this—goddess-like in beauty, yet ruined with pleasure just for you—makes your chest ache with something deeper than lust. To the world, she is Chou Tzuyu—TWICE's untouchable visual, the ethereal maknae with a face sculpted by the heavens. But here, beneath you, she is just yours—her body trembling, her perfect tits bouncing with each thrust, her toned stomach quivering as you drive into her over and over. The way her tight little pussy grips you, so warm and dripping, as if her body was made to take you... You can't help but groan, your hips snapping forward with renewed intensity, your voice a loving murmure against her skin. "Fuck—look at you... so perfect... taking me so well—" Her answering whimper is filthy, her legs locking around your waist to pull you deeper. "M-more—! Harder—! Wanna feel you—ahh~!—cumming inside me—!"

You oblige, your thrusts turning brutal, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the studio. Her moans grow shrill, her back arching off the couch as her nails rake down your back, her pussy clenching around you like a vice. You know you won't last much longer—not when she's begging for it like this, not when her body is milking you so perfectly. But you want to savor this—savor her—for just a little longer.

So you slow, just for a moment, your forehead pressing against hers as you catch your breath. "Tzuyu... look at me." Her hazy eyes meet yours, her lips parted in a silent gasp as you roll your hips in a slow, deep circle, grinding against her sweet spot. "I love you," you whisper, the words spilling out before you can stop them. Her breath catches, her eyes widening—before she melts, her entire body going pliant beneath you as she pulls you into a desperate, sloppy kiss. "I love you too," she whimpers against your lips. "Now please—fuck me like you mean it—!"

The moment the words leave her lips, something primal snaps inside you. Your grip on her hips tightens, fingers digging into her soft skin as you pull her impossibly closer, your cock throbbing deep inside her. The knowledge that she's safe—that she wants this, planned for this—sends a surge of possessiveness through you. "Fuck—Tzuyu—" Your voice is a ragged breath, your thrusts turning feral, each snap of your hips driving into her with enough force to make her gasp. "Gonna fill you up—gonna breed you so good—"

Her answering moan is broken, her back arching off the couch as she clings to you, her nails scraping down your back. Her pussy clenches around you, her walls fluttering wildly as she teeters on the edge of another climax. "Y-yes—! Please—!" she sobs, her legs trembling around your waist. "W-want it—want your cum—want you to own me—!" The filth spilling from her perfect lips is your undoing. With a guttural groan, you bury yourself to the hilt, your cock pulsing as you spill deep inside her, thick ropes of cum flooding her tight little cunt. She screams, her own orgasm crashing over her as she milks you for every last drop, her body shaking beneath you.

You collapse against her, your breath ragged as you press feverish kisses to her neck, her collarbone, her jaw—anywhere you can reach. She whimpers, her fingers carding through your hair as she comes down, her walls still fluttering around your softening cock. After a long moment, you pull back just enough to see her face—her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes dazed with pleasure.

You brush a stray strand of hair from her forehead, your voice soft. "Okay?" She nods, a lazy, sated smile curling her lips. "Mmm... more than okay." Her fingers trail down your chest, her touch featherlight. "You... really did it, huh?" You chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah. Just like you wanted." She giggles, nuzzling into your neck. "Good. Because I'm definitely not done with you...for a long time~"And as her fingers trail lower, her lips finding yours again, you realize one thing with absolute certainty— this lovely night ain't over yet.

After a few moments of catching your breath, Tzuyu suddenly pushes against your chest with surprising strength—rolling you onto your back before straddling your thighs. Her smirk is downright sinful as she trails her fingertips down your sweat-slicked chest, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. "Tired already, oppa?" she teases, her thumbs circling your nipples with deliberate slowness. "And here I thought my producer-nim had... boundless stamina."You groan at both her words and the way she grinds her dripping slit against your thigh—her arousal leaving slick streaks on your skin.

Even spent, your cock twitches back to attention beneath her, betraying your hunger. "Fuck—you're relentless," you rasp, hands sliding up her toned thighs to grip her waist. Her answering laugh is pure velvet as she leans down, her breasts pressing against your chest as her lips brush yours—just out of reach when you try to kiss her properly. "You love it," she whispers before suddenly twisting her body in one fluid motion—her back now facing you as she settles into reverse cowgirl, her perfect ass pressing against your hips.

Her back is a fucking masterpiece—the elegant curve of her spine dipping into the lush swell of her ass, her shoulder blades shifting like wings with every slight movement. The studio lights catch every ripple of muscle as she lifts herself slightly, reaching behind to guide your cock back to her entrance. Her skin glows—flushed and dewy from exertion—and when she glances over her shoulder, her eyes are dark with intent. "Watch," she breathes, sinking down onto you in one torturously slow motion. "Watch how tight I take you like this."

And god —she's right. The angle makes her feel even tighter, her walls fluttering around you as she starts to ride you with shallow, experimental bounces. Her hands brace against your thighs for leverage, her back arching as she throws her head back— perfectly framing the way her silky hair spills between her shoulder blades. You can't resist sitting up slightly—one hand gripping her hip while the other trails up the ladder of her spine, making her shudder. "You're gorgeous," you whisper, nipping at her shoulder. "Look at you—riding me like you were made for it."

She moans, her rhythm stuttering as your fingers tangle in her hair, gently tugging her head to the side to expose her neck. You lick a hot stripe up her pulse point, reveling in her gasp. "I was," she pants, her voice breaking as you thrust up to meet her next descent. "M-made for y-you—ahh~!" Her words unravel you. Your grip on her hip tightens as you help her move—guiding her into a faster, harder pace. The lewd slap of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by her high, breathy whimpers. Every time she sinks down, her ass bounces against your pelvis—the sight so obscene you have to bite back a groan.

One of your hands slides around to her front, fingers finding her swollen clit with practiced ease. She jerks in your lap, a broken cry tearing from her lips as you circle the bundle of nerves in time with her movements. "Ngh~! T-too much—!" she sobs, but her hips don't stop—if anything, she grinds down harder, chasing the overstimulation.You chuckle, your lips against her ear. "You asked for this, Tzu. Wanted me to use you, remember?" Your fingers press down just enough to make her legs shake. "So take it. Take everything I give you."

Her answering whine is filthy, her body clenching around you as she nears another peak—but you slow your hand, denying her release. She whimpers, her rhythm faltering as she glares at you over her shoulder. "Y-Y/N—!"

"Oops~"

You smirk, pressing a kiss to the corner of her pouting lips. "Not yet. Gonna make you beg for it." And with that, you flip her onto her back again—her legs hooking around your waist as you loom over her, your cock still buried to the hilt. Her chest heaves, her eyes blown with lust as she realizes— You're far from done.

Tzuyu's breath comes in shallow gasps as she arches her back, her fingers gripping the couch cushions beneath her. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she speaks, laced with both hesitation and desire."Y/N... can you...?" She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing even deeper as she glances back at you over her shoulder. "I want you to... spank me. Just—just a little. Please?"

Your heart races at her timid request, your hands immediately soothing over the curve of her ass, massaging gently before you lean down to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "Only if you're sure, Tzu. And we stop the second you want to, okay?"She nods eagerly, her body trembling with anticipation. "I trust you."

You start slow, your palm connecting with her right cheek in a light, almost playful tap. The sound is crisp in the quiet studio, and Tzuyu lets out a surprised little gasp—more from the sensation than any real pain. You rub the spot gently, watching the faint pink bloom under your fingertips."Okay?" you murmur, your other hand still caressing her hip reassuringly.She nods, pushing back against you slightly. "Mhm... again?"

You oblige, this time a little firmer—your hand landing on the other cheek with a soft smack. Tzuyu whimpers, her fingers tightening in the couch cushions, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she rocks her hips back, silently asking for more. You continue like this—alternating between soft spanks and soothing strokes, letting her adjust to the sensation. Each strike is measured, careful, never enough to truly hurt—just enough to make her skin flush a deeper shade of pink. Her breath hitches every time your palm connects, her body growing more pliant beneath your touch.

As Tzuyu grows more comfortable, her moans become louder, needier. She starts rolling her hips in time with your strikes, her slick arousal coating your thighs as she grinds against you. "H-harder," she whines, her voice trembling. "Please, Y/N—I can take it." You hesitate for only a second before giving her what she asks for—your next spank landing with a sharper crack, the sound echoing in the studio. Tzuyu yelps, her back arching, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she pushes back, her ass now a pretty, rosy red under your attention.

You alternate between spanks and gentle rubs, your other hand gripping her waist to steady her as she starts bouncing in your lap again. Each time your cock slides back into her, her walls clench around you, her pleasure mounting with every strike. "F-fuck—!" she sobs, her rhythm growing erratic. "It feels—ahh~!—so good—!" You watch, mesmerized, as her body reacts—her skin flushed, her breath coming in ragged pants, her pussy dripping around you. The contrast between the sharp sting of your spanks and the overwhelming pleasure of your cock inside her has her teetering on the edge, her moans turning shrill with desperation.

Even as you indulge her request, you never lose sight of her comfort. Between strikes, your fingers trail over her heated skin, soothing the slight sting before building it back up again. When she whimpers, you pause, pressing a kiss to the small of her back. "Still good?" you murmur, your voice thick with concern. She nodded, clearly eager for you to go on.

You oblige, your next spank landing just a little harder, making her jolt in your lap. Her pussy squeezes around you, her orgasm crashing over her with a broken cry. Her thighs tremble, her nails digging into the couch as she milks you through her climax, her body going taut before collapsing forward, spent. You catch her, pulling her against your chest as you both catch your breath. Your hands roam her back gently, tracing the faint marks left by your touch—not bruises, just a temporary blush of pink that’ll fade soon. She turns in your lap, as she nuzzles into your neck, her voice soft and sated. "Thank you..." You press a kiss to her forehead, your heart full. "Always, Tzuyu-yah."

Tzuyu's body is still trembling from her last climax, her oversensitive walls fluttering around your cock as you continue to move inside her—slow, deep thrusts that make her whimper with every drag of your length. Her fingers clutch at your shoulders, her nails digging in just enough to leave faint crescents in your skin as she tries to steady herself. "Y-Y/N—ahh~!—i-it's too much—!" Her voice is a broken plea, her thighs quivering as you push her further into overstimulation. But you don’t stop—not yet.

You want to see just how far she can go. You shift slightly, angling your hips to grind against that sweet spot inside her with every thrust. Her back arches off the couch, a strangled cry tearing from her lips as her pussy clenches around you like a vice. "I know, baby," you murmur, your voice rough with restraint as you press a kiss to her collarbone. "But you can take it. Just a little more—"

Her response is a garbled moan, her head thrashing against the cushions as you pick up the pace—your thrusts growing faster, harder, each one driving her closer to the edge again. Her legs lock around your waist, her heels digging into your back as if she’s trying to pull you even deeper. And then— It happens. A sharp, desperate cry rips from Tzuyu’s throat as her body seizes beneath you—her back bowing off the couch, her fingers scrambling for purchase against your skin. For a split second, you think she’s just coming again—but then you feel it.

The first gush is hot, slick, flooding between your bodies with enough force to drench your thighs. Tzuyu screams, her entire body convulsing as her pussy pulses around you, her release coming in waves—not just the thick, creamy femcum from before, but something more, something primal. The scent is musky, heady, the liquid gushing out of her in a near-geyser of pleasure and desperation, soaking the couch beneath you both. Her eyes are wide, her mouth agape in shock as she squirts—her body betraying her in the most filthy, beautiful way possible. Your hips snap forward, pounding into her through the mess, your cock sliding effortlessly in the slick heat of her ruined pussy. Tzuyu sobs, her hands flying to her face as she shakes, her thighs dripping with the evidence of her surrender.

"O-oh my god—!" she chokes out, her voice wrecked. "I-I didn’t—hahh~!—I didn’t mean to—!" You lean down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, your tongue sliding against hers as you claim her moans. "Shh, it’s okay," you growl against her mouth. "You’re perfect. So fucking perfect." Her answering whimper is broken, her body yielding to yours as you fuck her through the aftershocks, her pussy still clenching around you in weak, sporadic flutters.

The squelch of your thrusts is obscene, the sound of her dripping arousal filling the studio as you push her further, deeper into bliss. And when you finally spill inside her—your cum mixing with her mess—Tzuyu wails, her nails scoring down your back as her body locks around you, milking you for every last drop. You collapse against her, both of you panting, shaking, ruined. And as you press a kiss to her sweat-slicked forehead, her dazed, sated smile tells you everything you need to know.

You slowly pull out of Tzuyu's thoroughly used pussy with a soft, wet sound, both of you wincing slightly at the sensitivity. Your cum spills out of her in thick, messy ropes, dripping onto the already ruined couch beneath her. Her thighs tremble as she instinctively tries to clench them together, but she’s too spent—too open after taking you so many times.

Tzuyu lets out a breathy sigh, her fingers lazily trailing through the mess between her thighs before lifting them to her lips. She licks her fingers clean with deliberate slowness, her dark, sparkling eyes locked onto yours with a mischievous glint you rarely see from her. "Mmm… delicious," she purrs, her voice still husky from exertion. Then, with a giggle that sounds almost wicked coming from someone as composed as her, she murmurs, "Think you can fill me one more time, oppa? Or are you finally tired...?"

You blink, stunned for a moment—both at her boldness and the way her usually elegant diction melts into something downright filthy in the afterglow. But then a slow grin spreads across your face as you lean in, trapping her beneath you again, your lips brushing her earlobe. "Oh, Tzu" you murmur, voice dripping with playful warning, "You’re gonna regret teasing me when I pin those pretty legs back and pound another load into you so deep you’ll taste it tomorrow." She shivers, nibbling her lip—but there’s no real hesitation in those doe-eyes. Just challenge. And when her fingers slide down to rub slow, teasing circles over her swollen clit.

Tzuyu slowly peels herself off the couch, her legs still trembling slightly as she lowers herself onto the plush carpet of the production room. She gets on all fours, her back arching elegantly as she presents her perfect, round ass to you—high, tight, and still faintly pink from your earlier attention. With a playful wiggle, she glances back over her shoulder, her usually composed face now flushed with a mix of shyness and boldness. "I... I want to try it," she murmurs, her voice softer now, less teasing—more vulnerable. "I-I brought... lube. Just in case." She nods toward her purse nearby, where a slim bottle of strawberry-flavored edible lube peeks out from the side pocket.

You blink, surprised but touched by her thoughtfulness—how she had planned for this moment, how she trusted you enough to explore this with her. Your heart swells as you reach for the bottle, your fingers brushing against hers gently before you take it. "You're sure?" you ask, your voice warm, your thumb stroking the back of her hand reassuringly. "We don’t have to if you’re not ready." She bites her lip, her eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and determination before she nods. "I’m sure. I... I want to feel all of you."

You pop open the bottle, squeezing a generous amount of the sweet-smelling lube onto your fingers before warming it between them. Then, with deliberate tenderness, you drizzle it over her ass, watching as the pink-tinged liquid trails down the curve of her cheeks before pooling at her tight, puckered entrance. Tzuyu shivers at the sensation, her breath hitching as your fingers glide over her skin, spreading the lube in slow, soothing circles. "O-oh—" she whimpers, her hips shifting slightly. "It’s... cold." You chuckle softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the small of her back

"It’ll warm up soon," you murmur before gently pressing a slick fingertip against her rim, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. You take your time—rubbing, massaging, letting her body adjust to the foreign sensation before slowly pushing the tip of your finger past the tight ring of muscle. Tzuyu tenses immediately, her fingers curling into the carpet beneath her. "Breathe, Tzu," you remind her, your free hand stroking her hip soothingly. "Relax for me... that’s it." She exhales shakily, her body gradually loosening around your finger as you work it deeper, gently stretching her. The lube makes the glide smooth, and soon, you’re able to move in and out with ease, her walls fluttering around you in hesitant pulses. "H-how does it feel?" she asks, her voice small, uncertain. You chuckle, your fingers still moving with painstaking slowness. "Yeah, baby. Good weird." By the time you’re three fingers deep, her body is pliant, accepting, her earlier tension replaced by soft, breathy moans. She’s ready—but you still take a moment to lean over her, pressing your chest to her back as you nuzzle against her neck. "Still okay?" you whisper, your lips brushing her ear. She turns her head just enough to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss before nodding. "Mhm... more than okay."

And with that silent permission, you finally—finally—line yourself up, your cock slick with lube as you press against her entrance, your heart pounding in your chest. This is going to be slow. This is going to be careful. And—if the way Tzuyu is whimpering beneath you is any indication—this is going to be perfect.

Your fingertips trace delicate patterns along Tzuyu’s spine as you hover over her, your bodies connected only by the heated anticipation between you. She shivers beneath your touch, her back arching ever so slightly—a silent plea for more. You lean down, pressing a tender kiss to the curve of her shoulder, your lips whispering against her skin: "You’re doing so well, hun… so perfect for me." Your voice is barely above a murmur, warm and thick with affection.

Tzuyu turns her head just enough to catch your lips in a slow, achingly sweet kiss, her lashes fluttering as she sighs into it. When she pulls back, her lips are glossy and slightly parted, her breath coming in soft, uneven puffs. "Y/N…" Her voice is small, vulnerable—so unlike her usual composed tone. It makes your chest tighten. "Will you… keep talking to me? Like this? It—ah—it helps." You nuzzle into the crook of her neck, your hands roaming her sides in slow, soothing strokes. "Of course," you promise, your lips brushing her pulse point. "Every second. I’ve got you."

You shift slightly, lining your cock up with her slicked entrance, your tip pressing just enough to make her tense for a fleeting moment. Instantly, you still, your hands returning to her hips in a grounding grip. "Breathe, Tzuyu," you remind her, your thumbs rubbing gentle circles into her skin. "In… and out. Just like that." She obeys, her body gradually relaxing beneath yours as you push forward—inch by agonizing inch. The heat of her is overwhelming, her walls hugging you in a vice-like grip, so tight it feels like her body is trying to fuse around you. A choked whimper slips from her lips, her fingers clawing at the carpet beneath her. You freeze. "Too much?" She shakes her head frantically, her voice shaky but determined. "N-no… j-just… full." She pants, her hips pressing back just slightly—enough to make you groan. "D-don’t stop."

You exhale a shuddering breath, your forehead dropping between her shoulder blades as you resume your slow, painstaking thrust deeper. Every movement is measured, careful, your cock sheathed in slick warmth as her body reluctantly yields to yours. When you’re finally fully seated, buried to the hilt, you both pause—breathing heavily, trembling against each other. Tzuyu’s fingers unclench from the carpet, her hand blindly reaching back to grasp at your thigh. "O-oh my god," she whimpers, her voice wrecked. "I-I can feel you… everywhere." You press a kiss to the damp skin between her shoulder blades, your hands roaming her body in slow, worshipful strokes. "You’re amazing," you murmur against her skin. "Taking me so good, so perfectly…"

She whines at your praise, her walls fluttering around you in a way that makes your vision blur. You grind deeper experimentally, earning a sharp gasp from her—but before you can pull back, she pushes against you, her hips rocking back in a silent plea for more. You chuckle, breathless, your lips curling into a smile against her back. "Greedy, huh?" you tease, your hands gripping her waist as you finally—finally—begin to move. And when she moans, loud and filthy, her body arching beneath yours, you know— You’re both ruined for anything else.

Tzuyu's ass is a work of art—high, round, and perfectly sculpted, the kind that makes your mouth water just looking at it. The soft globes are still faintly pink from your earlier spanking, the skin warm under your palms as you grip her hips. Her asshole is a tight, fluttering ring of muscle, clenching and unclenching nervously around the thick head of your cock. The strawberry lube glistens around her rim, making the stretched skin shine under the studio lights.

You move with agonizing slowness, letting her body adjust to the overwhelming stretch. Every inch you push in feels like a victory—her muscles resisting at first, then reluctantly yielding to your girth. Her breath comes in shaky gasps, her fingers twisting into the carpet as she tries to relax. "S-so big," she whimpers, her voice trembling. "F-feels like you're splitting me—"

You pause when you're halfway in, your cock throbbing inside her impossibly tight heat. Leaning over her, you press a kiss to the small of her back, your hands soothing up her sides. "Breathe, Tzuyu-yah," you murmur against her skin. "Just relax… you're doing so good." She nods, exhaling shakily as her body slowly loosens around you. You resume your slow push forward, watching with rapt attention as her ass swallows more of your length. The way her rim stretches around you is obscene—her pink flesh clinging to your shaft like it never wants to let go.

When you're finally fully sheathed inside her, you both freeze, panting. Tzuyu's whole body is trembling, her back arched beautifully as she adjusts to the overwhelming fullness. "O-oh god," she whines, her voice breaking. "I-I can feel you everywhere—" You groan, your fingers digging into her hips as you fight the urge to move. "Fuck, you're perfect," you grit out. "So tight… like you were made for me." She whimpers at your words, her walls fluttering around you in a way that makes your vision blur. You pull back just an inch before sliding back in, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has her moaning into the carpet. And as her body finally accepts you, her moans turn from pained to pleasured—her ass squeezing you just right with every thrust. She was made for this. Made for you.

Tzuyu's breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps as she arches her back further, presenting her perfect ass to you in the most obscene invitation. The strawberry lube glistens around her stretched rim, her hole still fluttering from the initial penetration.

She glances back over her shoulder, her dark eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen from biting back moans. "Y/N…" Her voice is a breathy whisper, raw with need. "Start slow… but don’t be too gentle. I want to feel you—all of you " Her words send a jolt of heat straight to your cock, already buried to the hilt inside her tight heat. You lean over her, pressing your chest to her back as your lips find the shell of her ear. "Tell me if it’s too much," you murmur, your hands sliding down to grip her hips. "I’ll stop the second you need me to." She nods, her fingers twisting into the carpet beneath her as you finally—finally—begin to move.

You pull out almost completely, watching with rapt attention as her asshole clenches around nothing, trying to keep you inside. Then, with deliberate slowness, you push back in, your cock sinking into her tight heat inch by torturous inch. Tzuyu whimpers, her back arching as her body struggles to adjust to the stretch all over again. "F-fuck—" she gasps, her voice trembling. "S-so deep—" You groan, your fingers digging into her hips as you bottom out, your pelvis flush against her ass. The way her walls grip you is unreal—like her body was made to take you like this.

You pause, letting her adjust, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into her hipbone. "You’re doing so good, love" you praise, your voice rough with restraint. "Taking me so well…" She shudders at your words, her hole fluttering around you in a way that makes your vision blur.

Encouraged, you pull back again, this time setting a slow, steady rhythm—each thrust deep and measured, each withdrawal just enough to make her whine in protest. Tzuyu’s moans grow louder, her body gradually relaxing into the rhythm as pleasure begins to outweigh the initial discomfort. Her ass bounces slightly with each thrust, the lewd slap of skin on skin filling the studio. The sight is obscene—her perfect cheeks jiggling, her hole stretched wide around your cock, the lube making every movement slick and effortless.

After a few minutes of this agonizingly slow pace, Tzuyu pushes back against you, her voice a desperate whine. "Y/N—please—" Her fingers claw at the carpet, her hips rocking back to meet your thrusts. "I-I can take more… harder—" You groan, your grip on her hips tightening as you oblige, your thrusts growing faster, harder. The force of your movements sends her sprawling forward, her chest pressing into the carpet as you pound into her from behind. Her moans turn shrill, her walls clenching around you like a vice as pleasure overwhelms her. "O-oh god—!" she sobs, her voice breaking. "I-It’s—ahh~!—s-so good—!"

You lean over her, your chest pressing against her back as your lips find her ear. "You love this, don’t you?" you whisper, your voice thick with lust. "Love getting your tight little ass fucked like this?" Her answering wail is filthy, her body quivering beneath yours as you ruin her. And when your hand slides around to her front, your fingers finding her dripping pussy, she screams, her orgasm crashing over her with brutal intensity.

But you don’t stop—not when she’s begging for more, not when her body is milking you so perfectly. No, you’re just getting started.

Tzuyu's body arches beautifully beneath you, her flushed skin glistening under the studio lights as she takes every deep, rough thrust—her tight hole gripping you just right as she whimpers into the carpet. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mingling with her desperate moans. Her fingers scramble for purchase, nails digging into the plush fibers as she pushes back against you, "M-more—ahh~!—p-please, more—"

But despite the ferocity of your movements, your hands remain tender—one gripping her hip possessively, the other stroking down her spine in soothing, worshipful caresses. When her moans pitch higher, her body tensing as she nears another overwhelming climax, you suddenly slow—just enough to give her a moment to breathe. "Shh, I've got you," you murmur, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. "You're doing so good, baby—taking me perfectly." She whines, her hips squirming impatiently beneath you. "N-no—don't stop—!"

You smirk, leaning back just enough to admire the rosy blush already coloring her ass from earlier—but it’s not enough. Not when she’s begging so prettily. Your hand lifts, hovering just above her heated skin. "You want more?" you tease, your voice thick with affection. "Then tell me where." Her breath hitches, her body trembling as she glances back at you with wild eyes. "M-my… a-ass," she stammers, her cheeks flushing darker. "P-please…?" Your palm comes down in a sharp, stinging smack—just hard enough to make her jolt, her walls clenching around you in a way that has you groaning. She yelps, her back arching, but then— "A-ah! Again—!"

You comply, your strikes alternating between cheeks, each one landing with a crisp sound that echoes in the studio. Tzuyu’s moans grow louder, needier, her body rocking back to meet your thrusts as her skin turns a delicious shade of red. Yet, even as you mark her, your touches remain reassuring—your free hand rubbing circles into her lower back, your lips pressing apologetic kisses to every spot you strike. "That’s it," you praise, your voice a heated murmur against her skin. "Taking my cock and my hand like a good girl." She sobs at your words, her hips grinding down as another orgasm rips through her—her ass fluttering around you in rhythmic pulses. You groan, your thrusts turning erratic as her tight heat threatens to undo you, but you hold back, refusing to spill just yet.

Tzuyu whimpers softly as you guide her onto her stomach, her body stretching out in a straight line along the plush studio carpet. Her fingers curl into the fibers, gripping tightly as she presses her flushed cheek against the soft material, her breath coming in shallow pants. The curve of her back is a smooth, elegant slope, her ass still beautifully reddened from your earlier attention—just begging to be marked even more. "L-like this?" she murmurs, her voice trembling slightly as she glances back at you over her shoulder. Her dark eyes are wide, pupils blown with lust, her lips parted as she waits for your next move. You nod, running a soothing hand down her spine before settling over her, your chest pressing against her back as you line your cock up with her slick, stretched hole. "Perfect," you murmur, your lips brushing the shell of her ear

The angle is unreal. With her legs together beneath you and her hips slightly raised, her ass swallows you whole, her walls clenching around you in a way that makes your vision blur. You sink in slowly, savoring every inch of her tight heat, your hands gripping her waist to keep her steady. "O-oh fuck—" Tzuyu gasps, her fingers scrambling against the carpet as she struggles to adjust. "Y-You’re—ahh~!—s-so deep—" You groan, your forehead dropping between her shoulder blades as you bottom out, your hips flush against her ass. The sensation is overwhelming—her body hugging you in a way that feels made for this position. You stay like that for a moment, letting her adjust, your lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses along her spine.

"Breathe, Tzu, " you murmur, your voice rough with restraint. "Just relax… you’re taking me so well." She nods, her body gradually loosening beneath yours, and when you finally move, it’s with a slow, deep roll of your hips—pulling out almost completely before sinking back in with leisurely precision. Tzuyu whimpers, her back arching as the new angle hits her in ways she’s never felt before. "Y/N—ahh~!" she sobs, her voice breaking. "I-It’s—different—!" You smirk against her skin, your hands sliding up to pin her wrists gently against the carpet as you pick up the pace—your thrusts growing faster, harder, each one driving you deeper than before.

The slap of skin on skin is obscene, her ass jiggling with every brutal snap of your hips. Tzuyu's body trembles beneath you, her fingers twisting into the carpet as your thrusts grow deeper, more relentless. The angle of the prone bone position allows you to reach unimaginable depths, each snap of your hips drawing out broken, breathy moans from her lips. Her skin is slick with sweat, her back arching beautifully as she takes every inch of you, her tight hole fluttering around your cock in desperate pulses.

"Y-Y/N—ahh~!" she sobs, her voice cracking as another wave of pleasure crashes over her. Her thighs quiver, her body tensing—and then, with a sharp cry, she squirts again, her release soaking the carpet beneath her as her walls clench around you in rhythmic spasms. You slow your movements, your hands immediately soothing over her heated skin, rubbing gentle circles into her hips as she gasps for air. "Shh, it's okay," you murmur, your voice soft, tender. "You're doing so good, baby. Just breathe for me." She nods weakly, her body still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm.

You press a kiss to the nape of her neck, your lips lingering against her damp skin as you give her a moment to recover. When her breathing steadies, you lean back slightly, your cock still buried inside her, and brush her hair away from her face. "Where do you want me to finish, Tzuyu?" you ask, your thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "Tell me, and I'll give you exactly what you want." She turns her head just enough to meet your gaze, her dark eyes hazy with pleasure but still so trusting. A shy smile tugs at her swollen lips as she whispers, "On my back… please? I-I want to feel it… see it." Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, she adds, "And later… you can breed my ass properly."

A pause occured on you at her word. That's hot

Your heart swells at her words—not just because of the filthiness of them, but because of the trust behind them. You press another kiss to her shoulder, your voice warm as you murmur, "Anything for you." You pull out slowly, your cock glistening with lube and her arousal, and guide her onto her back. She goes willingly, her body pliant beneath your touch as you settle between her thighs. Her skin is flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watches you with hungry eyes.

You stroke yourself lazily, your thumb swiping over the head of your cock as you admire the mess you’ve made of her—her ass still red from your spanks, her thighs sticky with her own release. When your orgasm finally hits, you groan, your release painting thick, hot stripes across her stomach and chest. Tzuyu gasps, her fingers trailing through the mess with a look of awe. "So warm…" she murmurs, her voice breathless. You collapse beside her, pulling her into your arms as you both catch your breath.

Your fingers trace idle patterns along her spine, your lips pressing gentle kisses to her forehead. "You were amazing," you whisper, your voice full of affection. "So perfect for me." She nuzzles into your chest, her body still humming with pleasure as she sighs contentedly. "Mmm… next time, breed me like you promised?" You chuckle, your arms tightening around her. "Whenever you want"

The studio air still hummed with the heat of your earlier passion, the scent of sweat and sex clinging to your skin as you both caught your breath. Tzuyu lay half-draped across your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns through the thin sheen of sweat on your collarbone. The quiet between you was comfortable, intimate—the kind that only exists when two bodies have learned each other so thoroughly that words become unnecessary.

But then her fingers trailed lower, her nails scraping lightly over your abdomen before wrapping around your half-hard cock with a playful squeeze. You groaned, your hips jerking instinctively as her thumb swiped over the sensitive head, still slick with lube and her own arousal. "Tzuyu—" you warned, but your voice lacked any real protest. She knew it too, her lips curling into that mischievous smile that always meant trouble.

"What?" she murmured, her voice dripping with faux innocence as she stroked you slowly, her touch feather-light. "I thought you were done." You caught her wrist gently, your fingers circling the delicate bones as you pulled her hand away—but not before your body betrayed you, your cock twitching in her grip. She giggled, the sound bright and infuriatingly pleased with herself. "You’re impossible," you muttered, but the fondness in your voice gave you away. She knew exactly what she was doing—knew how easily she could unravel you with just a look, a touch. And God help you, you loved it.

You sat up, pulling her with you, your hands settling on her hips as you guided her to her feet. She went willingly, her body pliant beneath your touch, but there was a glint in her eyes now—a challenge. She wanted to see how far she could push you before you snapped. And you were more than happy to oblige. The couch was still a mess—crumpled fabric damp with sweat and lube, the armrests bearing the faint imprints of her nails from earlier. You guided her toward it, your hands sliding up her back as you bent her over, her palms flattening against the leather. The position arched her back beautifully, her ass on full display—still red from your earlier attention, her hole slightly puffy from how thoroughly you’d fucked her.

You stepped closer, your cock sliding between her thighs, the heat of her skin maddening even before you lined yourself up. the head of your cock brushed against her entrance, her body remembering the stretch, the fullness. "Y-Y/N—" she gasped, her fingers tightening on the armrest. "I-It’s—" You leaned over her, your chest pressing against her back as your lips found her ear. "It’s what, baby?" you murmured, your voice low, teasing. "Too much? Or not enough?" She shuddered, her hips rocking back impatiently—her answer clear. You chuckled, your hands gripping her waist as you pushed forward, your cock sinking into her with agonizing slowness. The angle was different this time—deeper, tighter, her walls clenching around you in a way that made your vision blur.

Tzuyu cried out, her back arching as she took you, her body yielding perfectly to yours. You paused when you were fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust, your thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her hips. "Breathe," you reminded her, your voice soft despite the fire burning in your veins. "Just like that… good girl." She nodded, her exhale shaky as she relaxed beneath you.

Only then did you move—pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with a deep, measured stroke. Tzuyu moaned, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the couch as you set a relentless pace, each snap of your hips driving you deeper than before. The sound alone was enough to undo you—the slap of skin on skin, the squelch of lube and her own arousal as you fucked her, the broken little whimpers spilling from her lips with every thrust.

And the sight—God, the sight. Her ass jiggled with every impact, the reddened skin clapping against your thighs as you pounded into her. Her back was a perfect, elegant curve, her shoulder blades shifting beneath smooth, sweat-slicked skin as she arched into your touch. And when you reached around to cup her breast, her nipple pebbling against your palm, she sobbed, her walls fluttering around you in a way that made your knees weak.

You groaned, your forehead dropping to her shoulder as you fought for control. She was ruining you—wrecking you—and she knew it. "Y-Y/N—ahh~!" she cried, her voice breaking as you hit just the right spot. "I-I’m gonna—please—" You knew what she was asking for—knew she was close again. But you slowed, your thrusts turning shallow, teasing, just to hear her beg. "What do you want, Tzuyu-yah?" you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Tell me." She whined, her hips rocking back desperately, trying to chase her release. "F-fuck me harder—please—"

You obliged, your hands tightening on her hips as you snapped forward, your cock pounding into her with brutal precision. Tzuyu screamed, her body locking around you as she came, her orgasm ripping through her with violent intensity. And when you followed her over the edge, your release spilling deep inside her, she collapsed against the couch, her body trembling from the aftershocks.

You caught her before she could slide to the floor, your arms wrapping around her waist as you pulled her close, her back pressed to your chest. She melted into you, her head lolling against your shoulder as you pressed kisses to her damp skin. "You okay?" you murmured, your voice rough but gentle. She nodded, her fingers tangling with yours as she brought your hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Mmm… better than okay."

Tzuyu's fingers still traced lazy circles on your chest, her touch feather-light and teasing. The way her lips curled into that mischievous smirk—so unlike her usual composed, elegant self—made your breath catch. She was playful, bold, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and amusement as she watched your reaction.

"What?" she murmured, her voice dripping with faux innocence as she dragged her nails down your stomach, stopping just above where your cock lay half-hard against your thigh. "You look surprised." You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I just…" Your fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as you studied her—the flush on her cheeks, the way her lips were still slightly swollen from earlier. "I didn’t know you could be this naughty."

For a second, her smirk faltered. Your words—spoken with such open admiration—seemed to catch her off guard. The teasing glint in her eyes flickered, replaced by something softer, shyer. Her fingers stilled against your skin, and suddenly, she wasn’t the bold, demanding vixen from moments ago. She was Tzuyu again—the Tzuyu who got flustered when complimented too directly, the Tzuyu who hid her face in her hands when the members teased her.

Her gaze dropped, her lashes fluttering as she bit her lower lip. "I…" She hesitated, her voice suddenly small. "I didn’t mean to be too much." Your heart squeezed. God, she was adorable. One second, she had you wrapped around her finger, and the next, she was blushing over it. You cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to meet your eyes. "You weren’t," you assured her, your thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek. "I love when you’re like this. When you’re… confident." Her breath hitched, her eyes searching yours—as if she couldn’t quite believe you meant it. Then, slowly, a shy smile tugged at her lips. "…Really?" You grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Really."

She giggled—a soft, girlish sound—before burying her face in your neck, her arms winding around your waist. You could feel her smile against your skin, the way her body relaxed into yours. And just like that, the moment shifted. The air between you wasn’t charged with lust anymore—just warmth, affection, the kind that made your chest ache. But then her fingers danced lower again, her touch light, testing—and when you groaned, she laughed, the sound bright and triumphant. "…So," she murmured, her lips brushing your ear, "does that mean I can be naughty again?" You groaned, tipping your head back against the couch as her hand wrapped around you, her grip firm, knowing. Yeah. You were doomed.

The moment Tzuyu's hands fisted in your shirt and yanked you upright, you barely had time to process the sudden movement before her legs were wrapping around your waist, her bare thighs squeezing your hips with surprising strength. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you instinctively braced your hands under her ass, her weight settling against you as she clung like a koala—her lips already seeking yours in a messy, impatient kiss.

"Tzuyu—!" you gasped against her mouth, your voice equal parts exasperated and fond. But she just giggled—that breathy, mischievous sound that always meant trouble—and ground her hips down against yours, the slick heat of her already making your cock twitch back to full hardness.

"Carry me," she demanded between kisses, her teeth nipping at your lower lip. "Fuck me like this. Please."

you pushed into her in one smooth, deep stroke. The angle was unreal—her legs spread wide around your hips, her body stretched open as you filled her completely. Tzuyu arched off the wall with a sharp cry, her head falling back as her walls fluttered around you, adjusting to the sudden stretch.

You paused, your forehead dropping to hers as you both caught your breath. Her panting breaths fanned across your lips, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings against her flushed cheeks. Up this close, you could see every tiny freckle dusted across the bridge of her nose, the way her pupils were blown so wide her irises were nearly swallowed by black. She was beautiful—wrecked already, and you'd barely even moved.

"Okay?" you murmured, your thumb brushing over her hipbone in slow, soothing circles.

She nodded frantically, her fingers tightening in your hair. "M-move—please—"

You obliged, pulling out almost completely before snapping your hips forward again, the force of it driving her harder into the wall. Tzuyu yelped, her legs tightening around you as you set a brutal pace, each thrust jolting her higher up the wall. The sound alone was filthy—the wet slap of skin on skin, her gasping moans, the way the wall creaked slightly with every impact.

And the feel—God, the feel of her.

Her walls clenched around you in rhythmic pulses, her body milking you with every inward stroke. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her nipples pebbled and begging for attention. You ducked your head, capturing one in your mouth, your tongue flicking over the stiff peak as she sobbed above you.

"Y-Y/N—! Ahh~!" Her back arched, her thighs trembling around you as her orgasm crept up on her. "I-I'm gonna—hnngh~!"

You groaned around her nipple, your hips stuttering as her walls fluttered around you. But you held back, focusing entirely on her pleasure, on the way her body tightened, on the broken little noises spilling from her lips.

When she came, it was with a scream—her body locking around you, her nails scoring down your back as she shook in your arms. You held her through it, your thrusts turning shallow, gentle, prolonging her pleasure until she was whimpering from overstimulation.

Only then did you still, pressing her firmly against the wall as you both panted, your foreheads resting together.

And as her dazed, sated eyes met yours, you knew—

You'd do anything for her.

Tzuyu's back arched as her palms flattened against the cold surface of the production room table, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth metal edge. The shift in position made her gasp—her legs still locked around your waist, but now her upper body was braced against the table, giving her just enough leverage to rock her hips at her own pace. You could feel the tremors running through her thighs, the way her inner muscles fluttered around your length as she adjusted to the overwhelming fullness. Her breath came in short, uneven pants, her lips parted in a silent 'O' as she experimentally rolled her hips, testing the angle.

"S-slow…" she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyelashes fluttering like delicate butterfly wings against her flushed cheeks. "It's too… ahh~… too much right now…"

You immediately stilled, your hands moving to cradle her hips, your thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the dip of her waist. The way she looked in this moment—her usually pristine hair tousled and sticking to her damp forehead, her lips swollen from kisses, her chest rising and falling rapidly—it made your chest ache with something far deeper than lust. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat, tasting the salt of her sweat on your tongue.

"Take your time," you murmured against her skin, your voice rough with restraint. "However you need me… I'm here."

She exhaled shakily, her fingers flexing against the table as she began to move—tiny, experimental rolls of her hips that gradually grew more confident. The drag of your cock inside her was exquisite, the wet heat of her almost too much to bear. You bit back a groan, your forehead dropping to her shoulder as you let her set the rhythm, your hands remaining gentle but firm on her waist, guiding but never forcing.

The production room around you was silent save for the sound of your mingled breathing and the occasional creak of the table as Tzuyu shifted. The overhead lights cast a soft glow over her skin, highlighting the sheen of sweat along her collarbones, the way her small, perky breasts bounced ever so slightly with each shallow thrust. They were perfect—not overly large, but beautifully shaped, the pink nipples pebbled and begging for attention. You couldn't resist leaning down to capture one in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the stiff peak as Tzuyu moaned, her back arching off the table.

"Y-Y/N—!" Her hands flew to your hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as she pulled, her hips stuttering. "T-that's—ahh~!—too sensitive now…!"

You released her with a soft pop, grinning up at her through your lashes. "But you taste so good," you teased, your voice dripping with affection. "Like honey and salt… perfect."

She whined, her cheeks flushing an even deeper pink at your words, but her hips didn't stop moving—if anything, they grew more desperate, her thighs tightening around your waist as she sought more, deeper.

As much as you wanted to let her take the lead, the feel of her—her tight heat, her trembling thighs, the way her walls clenched around you with every tiny movement—was pushing you dangerously close to the edge. Your fingers dug into her hips, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you fought to hold back.

"Tzuyu…" you warned, your voice strained. "I'm close… so close…"

Her eyes—dark with lust but still so clear, so trusting—met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. Then, with a suddenness that stole your breath, she pushed against your chest, her legs unwrapping from your waist as she slid off your cock and dropped to her knees in front of you. You barely had time to process what was happening before her small, delicate hands were wrapping around your length, her fingers just barely meeting around your girth as she began to stroke—fast, firm, her thumb swiping over the leaking tip with every upward motion.

"Ah-ah," she chided, her voice breathless but playful, her dark eyes glinting up at you through her lashes. "My turn."

Your breath caught as she leaned in, her pink tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe from base to tip, her lips wrapping around the head with a filthy pop. The contrast was staggering—one moment, she was a trembling, oversensitive mess beneath you; the next, she was devouring you with a confidence that made your knees weak. Her free hand cupped your balls, her fingers massaging gently as she took you deeper, her throat fluttering around the tip in a way that had you seeing stars.

You groaned, your fingers tangling in her hair—not to guide her, just to feel, to anchor yourself as she worked you over with single-minded determination. The sight of her like this—Chou Tzuyu, the ethereal visual of TWICE, on her knees for you—was enough to send you spiraling. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her tongue pressing against the sensitive vein on the underside of your cock, her moans vibrating through you like electricity.

And then, just as you were about to lose it, she pulled back, her hand stroking you rapidly as she tilted her face up, her lips parted in invitation.

"Come here," she whispered, her voice hoarse from use.

Your hips jerked involuntarily, your release barreling toward you with unstoppable force., your release coming down across her face in thick, pulsing ropes. The first stripe splashed across her cheekbone, glistening against her flawless skin. The second landed on her chin, dripping down toward her throat. The third—God, the third—painted her lips, her tongue darting out to catch the last drops with a smug little hum.

She looked ruined—her hair mussed, her face glazed with your cum, her eyes dazed but triumphant. And yet, she was still beautiful, still Tzuyu, still the girl who made your heart stutter with just a smile.

Someone really needed to give you the "Luckiest Guy on Earth" title.

"Pretty?" she asked, her voice lighter now, playful.

You choked on a laugh, your fingers trembling as you brushed a stray drop from her chin. "So pretty," you breathed, your voice wrecked. "The prettiest."

She beamed up at you, her nose scrunching in that adorable way it always did when she was happy, and in that moment, you knew—

You were the luckiest man alive.

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