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#however don't look too deep into the specifics
mina-saiyat · 2 days
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Let's Play Ball (Sana)
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‘LG Twins! LG Twins!’ The cheer from the stadium is too loud, which can be clearly heard even in the toilet. Sana was invited to attend the match today for the ceremonial first pitch today. However, as soon as the match starts, she secretly goes to the changing room of LG Twins. The jersey she wears is cut specifically to show her waist, the jeans are extra tight to highlight her huge ass.
Sana takes a deep breath, pretending to be calm and opens the door. ‘Is anyone here?’ Sure enough, there is a man waiting here, a director from LG Twins, who sends the invitation to JYP.
"Come on, Sana, let's get started." The man raises the corners of his mouth and shows an evil smile. "What...start?" Sana asked knowingly.
"Of course, I want to enjoy your soft and fragrant body." The man grabs Sana's wrist, pushes her down on the bench without any explanation, then leans down and kisses Sana's lips...
Sana knows that the current situation could not be reversed, so she simply stops resisting and lays down on the bench obediently, raising her neck slightly to receive the man's passionate kiss.
While kissing Sana, the man stretches out his hand to knead the two bulges on Sana's chest. The other hand slips into Sana's jeans and wanders around the top of her thigh.
"Hmm..." Sana couldn't help but hum softly as she feels the stimulation coming from the sensitive parts of her body.
The man's actions become more and more unscrupulous. He pulls away Sana's jersey, bites and sucks on Sana's fair and smooth skin, leaving wet marks. At the same time, his fingers also penetrated Sana's underwear, pressing and teasing Sana's most private parts.
"Ah...ha..." Sana couldn't help but twist her body and her breathing becomes rapid.
"Sana is so sensitive, already emotional right from the beginning." The man raises his head and smiles proudly.
Sana deliberately put on a flirtatious expression, licked her lips and said, "Yes, when I see a strong man like you, I can't help but get wet down there."
"Really? Then I'm going to take good care of that 'little devil' below you." The man pulls down Sana's underwear with great interest and directly swirls the tip of his tongue on her clitoris.
"Oh...ah...no..." Sana was so stimulated that her whole body was numb, but she still keep saying seductive words in her mouth: "Harder...eat me until I am clean...um."
After hearing this, the man really increasedhis strength. His tongue flexibly rolls and licks Sana's core. Occasionally, he would insert the entire length into Sana's vaginal opening and thrust it a few times.
"Ah... it's so deep... I'm going to cum..." Sana screams, and a large amount of semen spurts out from the her clit, pouring into the man's mouth.
"Miss Sana is having some much water, I'm almost drowning." The man says and swallows all of Sana's juice, and once again takes Sana's lower body and sucks wildly.
"No... I… cum... ah -" Sana screams and spurts out spurts of orgasmic semen, all which lands on the man's naked upper body.
"Finally, I thought you were going to gag me." The man licks his lips, then stands up and unzips his pants.
After Sana sees his size clearly, she immediately covers her mouth and widened her eyes - this man's penis is too big and hard, and it seems that her pussy would be red and swollen from being penetrated.
"Don't be afraid, I will enter slowly later." The man pats Sana's head comfortingly, then turns Sana over and kneels her down on the bench.
"Let's start from the back first." The man holds his huge penis against the entrance of Sana's wet pussy, and slowly but powerfully pushed inside.
Sana couldn't help but gasp as she frld the man's hot penis gradually penetrate into her body. "It's so big...you're going to fill me up..." Sana looks back at the man, her eyes blurred and unexplained.
"You're so tight, just like a virgin." The man enjoys the way Sana's cavity walls clamps around his penis, and he couldn't help but growl in pleasure.
Sana shakes her hips and bumps back in time with the man's rhythm. "Ah...go deeper...insert it all the way inside..." Sana is completely immersed in lust, moaning wildly.
"As you wish." The man suddenly straightens his waist, and the entire length of his penis is being inserted into Sana's pussy.
"Oh!!!" Sana screams as she climbs into another orgasm, nectar leaking from the joint and soaking the bench. The man grabs Sana's waist and fucks her without stopping. He penetrates as deep as possible with every thrust, and his huge cock moves in and out of Sana's pussy like a piston, making a slurping sound.
"It feels so good... Harder... Penetrate me... Ah——" Sana is completely lost in the sea of ​​pleasure, just wanting more and more. The man is also so happy that he growls again and again. He pinches Sana's breasts and rubs them with one hand, and penetrates Sana's anus with the other hand, torturing Sana in three ways.
"Oh oh oh...” Sana feels a tingling sensation coming from her anus. Her anal canal was pried open and expanded by the man's fingers, and her tight muscles contracted instinctively, which makes the man feel even more happy.
"The hole in the back of you is also good at sucking " The man laughs.
Sana blushes with embarrassment, but her brain is soon occupied by the pleasure in both holes, and she could only scream loudly.
"Hurry...don't stop...it's coming...ahhhhh-" Sana collapses to the ground after a fierce climax, but the man does not let her go, but accelerates the fucking.
"Oh...I am going to be broken...how can you last so long..." Sana begs in a daze, but couldn't stop herself from catering to the man.
The man stops and looks at Sana with a half-smile: "Don't you like it very much? Why do you want me to stop again?"
"No...I want you..." Sana doesn't know how to express her desire, so she blushes and lowers her head.
"What do you want from me?" The man approachs step by step, licking Sana's ear.
"I want you to...insert me inside...fuck me hard..." Sana yells out these words without any hesitation, just hoping that the man could satisfy her desires.
"As you wish." The man chuckles and startes again. His cock and finger advanced deep into Sana's body at the same time, as if they were about to penetrate Sana.
"Ahhhh - it's so deep... it's about to burst... but... please don't stop..." Sana cries out as her nipples were pinched hard by the man, and a finger was inserted deeply into her anus. The sensitive points on both front and back were extremely stimulated, causing her to reach another climax very quickly.
"Ahhh... I'm going to die..." Sana rolles her eyes, a large amount of transparent juice gushes out from the place of intercourse, making the man's crotch muddy.
However, the man has no intention of stopping at all. He increases the speed of thrusting and says viciously: "You haven't been fucked enough by me yet."
Sana barely struggles to support her upper body, looks at the man and begs for mercy: "I really can't do it anymore... I'm about to be penetrated down there... You..."
The man suddenly leans down and bites Sana's lips, kissing her roughly. At the same time, the movements of his lower body become faster and harder. His huge penis is rubbing in and out of Sana's body, as if he is trying to turn Sana's vagina completely out.
"Um...slow down...I'm going to suffocate..." Sana is almost choked by the kiss, but she couldn't help but respond to the man's manipulation.
The man let go of Sana's lips, raises her chin and stares into her eyes: "You said you want me to slow down, do you want me to stop or do you want me to fuck you slower?"
Sana is stunned for a moment, and then she understands what the man meant, and her face turns red: "Just fuck me more slowly... I can bear it..."
"Very good." The man smiles with satisfaction. He indeed slows down the speed, but the intensity of the fucking increased a lot, and each thrust is as deep as possible.
"Oh...so deep...so comfortable..." Sana moans unconsciously, the nectar gurgling out and forming a clear spring on the man's thigh.
The man is even more proud when he sees this. He grabs Sana's waist and sprints hard. His thick penis quickly moves in and out of Sana's body, making a "slapping" sound.
"You are such a little devil, this pussy is just full of water." The man jokes.
Sana is ashamed, but also excited by the man's vulgar words. She couldn't help but twist her hips to meet the man's manipulation, and at the same time gently rubs her clit with her fingers, hoping to get more pleasure.
"Ahh... faster... I'm cumming..." Sana screams loudly. She feels that her orgasm is approaching, and she is only one step away from reaching the peak of bliss.
The man seems to be aware of Sana's state. He no longer holds back, but thrust with all his strength. His thick penis moves in and out of Sana's body quickly, making a "Gurgling" sound.
"Are you cumming? I'm going to make you feel so good." The man smiles evilly and suddenly accelerates his speed and sprints vigorously, crushing Sana's G-spot with every stroke.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Sana screams as she climaxed. Her whole body convulses, and a large amount of nectar squirts out, spraying all over the man.
The man's face is sprayed with Sana's juice, but he didn't feel disgusted at all. Instead, he looks excited. "You're so horny, you squirted like this." The man teases Sana, stroking her smooth back and gently slapping her buttocks.
Sana's cheeks are so red that they are about to bleed. She never thought that she would reach such an orgasm under the gaze of a stranger. But she also feels unprecedented satisfaction and pleasure, as if her entire body was filled.
"Do you still want it? I can continue to serve you." The man whispers in Sana's ear, his voice full of temptation.
Sana shakes her head, but nods immediately. She didn't know how to answer this question. She knows her job is to satisfy the man, and desire makes her unable to resist the man's invitation.
When the man sees this, he doesn't ask any questions. He picks up Sana and turns her around into a missionary position, then kneels between her legs.
"This time I will make you completely happy." The man says as he straightens his back and inserts his penis into Sana's slippery pussy. "Oh..." Sana let out a sigh of relief. She raises her head and closes her eyes, letting the pleasure engulf her.
The man starts a new round of fucking. His movements are more powerful and rougher than before. Each thrust penetrates to the deepest point, crushing Sana's G-spot hard. At the same time, he keeps changing his rhythm, sometimes slowly, and sometimes he sprintes straight to the cervix.
"Do you like this position? I feel your vagina is sucking me tightly." The man teases while fucking.
Sana blushes with embarrassment. She knows that she must look very lustful now, but she doesn't care about it anymore and just screams loudly along with the rhythm of the man's fucking.
Sana is completely lost in the ecstasy of sex. She only knows how to follow the man's fucking and desperately wants him to penetrate deeper and faster.
"Oh... it's going to break... you inserted it too deep..." Sana cried, she could clearly feel the man's thick and long penis moving in and out of her body, and every time it was inserted as deep as possible...
The man doesn't care about this. He grabs Sana's waist and accelerates the speed. His huge penis quickly slams into Sana's body, making a "slap" sound. "I just want to see you crying and begging for mercy." The man growls, and his breathing gradually becomes heavier.
Sana couldn't bear it any longer, and she cries loudly with tears streaming down her face: "I'm cumming... Hurry up... faster..." The man fucks her more violently as if he is allowed to do so. His penis rushes wildly inside Sana, reaching the deepest point every time. Sana's womb was being hit again and again, and the pleasure sweeps over her like a tide, and soon she reaches another climax.
"Ah——!" Sana screames and bites the man's shoulder. Her whole body convulses, and a large amount of nectar squirt out again, covering the man's body.
The man is aroused by Sana's sudden attack. He growls and accelerates the speed of thrusting. His penis is rubbing rapidly inside Sana's body, and he is about to reach climax. As soon as Sana recovers from the afterglow of her climax, she was pushed up to a higher mountain by the man's wild fucking again.
Sana could clearly feel the man's thick penis thrusting deeper and deeper into her body, reaching her most sensitive sex center. She couldn't help but scream: "Don't...I’m going to break..."
However, the man ignores her cries. He grabs Sana's breasts and squeezes them hard. At the same time, he speeds up and fucks her hard. "I'm going to cum, are you ready?" the man grows, his voice a little hoarse.
Sana's reason has long since disappeared, and she just wants to pursue more and stronger pleasure. So she leaves a deep tooth mark on the man's shoulder, and at the same time twistes her hips to cooperate with the man's manipulation. "Cum in me...give it all to me..." Sana screames loudly. She could feel the man's thick penis swelling inside her body, as if it is about to spurt out in the next moment.
Sure enough, the man suddenly increased his speed, thrusting his long and thick penis rapidly inside Sana's body, hitting the G-spot hard with every thrust. Sana's senses were completely amplified at this time, and every groan and every gasp of the man turned into overwhelming pleasure and hit her.
"Oh——!" The man yells. He holds Sana's waist and penetrates deeply. His thick penis is completely immersed in Sana's body. Then a stream of hot semen shoots out and pours into Sana's womb.
Sana is also stimulated by the burning heat and reaches another climax. Her whole body is convulsing, and only broken moans are left in her mouth.
The man slowly pulls out his still erect penis, and a large amount of white turbid liquid flows out of Sana's slightly open clit, staining the bench underneath her.
Sana is a little dazed in the afterglow of orgasm, but when the man's penis is pulled out, she immediately wakes up. Sana looks at the penis that is still erected and covered with her own bodily fluids, and feels a strong desire for possession. She couldn't help but stick out her tongue and lick it gently, and then takes the entire glans in her mouth.
"Well... what a slut..." The man chuckles, but does not stop Sana's movement. He reaches out and strokes the back of Sana's head, guiding her to start cleaning up the results of his recent victory.
Sana moans seductively while licking every inch of her sex with her tongue. This scene is so erotic that the man couldn't help but sigh.
At the same time, the man does not let go of his attack on Sana. He continues to knead Sana's red and swollen breasts, and occasionally pinches the cherry at the top, causing Sana to gasp repeatedly.
"Ah... don't..." Sana still has half of his penis in her mouth, and the sounds from her mouth naturally turns into indistinct moans. But this sound is supremely beautiful music to a man's ears.
The man increases his intensity, rubbing Sana's breasts vigorously with his palms, and his penis moves back and forth into Sana's mouth, pushing into the depth of her throat from time to time. Sana feels like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, with every part of her body being controlled by men. But she doesn't hate this feeling.
Sana's mouth is completely filled with the cock, but it was not enough to satisfy her. She swallows the huge thing harder, trying to take it all into her mouth.
When the man sees this, he doesn't stop her. He holds the back of Sana's head and thrusts his penis straight into Sana's mouth until it reaches the depths of her throat. Sana's saliva mixes with the previous body fluids, forming patches of foam between the entrance and exit of the genitals.
"Oh...it feels so good...your little mouth is really good at sucking..." The man couldn't help but growl, Sana's deep throat gives him great pleasure. Sana's mouth is narrow, moist, and hot, and Sana's tongue is very good at licking. All of this makes the man go crazy. So, the man no longer cares about Sana's feelings. He grabs Sana's hair and thrust his penis into her mouth quickly. His thick penis rubs in Sana's throat, and he soon reaches another climax.
"I'm going to cum... Just take it..." The man growls. When his penis is inserted to the deepest, he cums a large amount of hot semen, all pours into Sana's esophagus.
Sana choked and coughed from the sudden ejaculation, but she still managed to swallow most of it. She is not able to breathe until the man pulled out his genitals.
There is white liquid hanging from the corner of Sana's mouth, and there is a hint of longing in her eyes as she looks at the man.
Sana's eyes tell the man that she wanted to be creampied. But time is limited, and their game must end before others come back.
So the man leans down, bites one of Sana's earlobes, and whispers: "Wait for me, I will love you very much until midnight... According to the contract, you are my fuck toy until 12…"
After hearing the man's words, Sana's eyes immediately filled with water. The two spends a crazy afternoon in the locker room. When the whistle is blowed, the men is already dressed and ready to leave. Sana beside him is a little distracted. Although she is dressed as she came, the slightly bulging shape of her abdomen indicates some unusual condition.
On the way, the man asks Sana in a low voice: "Are you still feeling comfortable with my semen?" Sana nods shyly. Her womb is still filled with the man's semen, and she could feel the warm swaying in her body when she walks.
The man smiles. He pats Sana's butt and whispers, "There will be something better later... We will continue when we get to the hotel." Sana couldn't help but shivers when she hears it, but she doesn't refuse. It’s just another job.
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tribow · 1 day
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How does touhou Kanako show her spirit animals notable Snake traits? Suwako represents the frog. How do I look at her as the Snake as in aesthetic speaking?
Funnily enough, this is actually a common misconception with the canon. The snakes technically have nothing to do with Kanako, those belong to Suwako.
The snakes are called "Mishaguji". They're curse gods that Suwako tamed during her time as the only goddess of the Moriya Shrine. When Kanako took over, she still needed Suwako's assistance since she could not control the Mishaguji. If Kanako didn't ask for help, she would likely be constantly fighting the Mishaguji to prevent them from cursing the land and destroying harvest. Not an easy task. I'm sure Kanako would love to have all her followers believe she is controlling the Mishaguji, but the credit all goes to Suwako.
The Mishaguji are probably a lot weaker than they were in the past, but they're still around. Suwako still uses them in her spellcards. (Notably, Kanako has never used them.).
So you might be wondering, if Suwako is the powerful frog that tamed the snakes, why the heck is Kanako the "Snake"? Why is there so much art depicting Kanako with snakes?
Don't worry, you're not being pranked by fanon this time.
ZUN said in an interview that Kanako is based on two gods: Takeminakata and Yasakatome. These two gods are housed in the real life Grand Suwa Shrine.
Takeminakata is worshipped as a god of wind, water, war, and agriculture. This is very similar to Kanako. As for Yasakatome, her folklore is a bit all over the place so it's hard to pin her down. She's mostly associated with water. Kanako's first name; Yasaka, is derived from Yasakatome.
What's important is that both of these gods have been depicted as snakes in folklore. (sometimes specifically a water serpent). This is where Kanako's symbolism with snakes come from. When Takeminakata is depicted in other japanese media, it's a bit common to use snakes to symbolize him. (Dragons are also an association with him, but we're talking about snakes here).
Kanako and Suwako's backstory heavily resemble a specific piece of Takeminakata's folklore. He conquered the Suwa region by defeating the local gods of the area. The most famous battle was against Moreya, whose iron weapons were defeated by Takeminakata's wisteria vine. (wisteria is a plant. A flowering vine.)
Sound familiar?
Moreya still has his own shrine called the Moriya Shrine. Yup, that's right it's a real place and not something ZUN made up. However, if you look into it, Moreya isn't depicted as a frog. Where the heck did that come from?
Well, Takeminakata has another piece of folklore with a frog involved. He calmed the waves of the raging seas by defeating a frog god. This story commonly depicts him as a snake as well. (Snakes eat frogs in real life!) The frog in this story is sometimes interpreted as one of the local gods, which could be the Mishaguji or Moreya.
"The Mishaguji"??? Aren't they the snakes in Touhou? Well...yes! It's just that they're local gods just like Moreya was and...and....we're in too deep!
Folklore is commonly spread through word of mouth! It's a mythological game of telephone! The details can change based on who is telling the story! I haven't even told you the many other names Takeminataka goes by. If I went over all the nuance with the folklore and its connections to Touhou this would be a gargantuan post!
Ignoring that, what's important is that this is where Kanako's symbolism with snakes come from. Even if she doesn't control the snakes of the Moriya shrine, Kanako IS the snake that defeated the powerful frog and conquered its land.
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some-swan · 4 months
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Incoming small spam of vids I made
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spnintheyearofourlord · 8 months
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Okay Dean “You know I am not much for prayin’ ‘cause in my book it’s the same as beggin’” and “I prayed to you, Cas, every night” Winchester, I see you.
#destiel#deancas#dean winchester#supernatural#just thinking my little thoughts#don’t look at me I’m having a moment#something something no greater devotion than that to his brother who he’s praying for in the former yet this implies#the same love and desperation fueling that must apply to Cas too#do y'all see what I'm saying? does the connection make sense?#especially s8 going forward Dean often takes the cake for toxicity I’m sorry it’s just true. HOWEVER. we need to talk about the softness#that man shows to Cas in this season specifically.#for ex: after Cas sternly shuts him down in 8x08 he doesn't get defensive and snap back like Dean often does#he goes over and sits on the bed across from cas and softly says 'talk to me.' like i'm sorry? has dean ever said that??#not that i recall. usually it's smthg like 'are you ok? no? that's rough buddy. shove it down.' bc that's what he was taught#and mid-end of the prior season though his ‘don’t tell Cas the truth’ plan was not great it was pretty clear imo how deeply happy he was#just to have cas back. broken or not he’d rather have him. .#I don't know exactly what I'm trying to say that's why we're in the tags but it's just something about how Cas deeply betrayed them and we#know how intensely Dean can hold a grudge yet when they get Cas back Dean's softer with him than he ever was before.#and then searches monster land high and low for him even after Cas abandons him#and connecting the former and latter quotes up there it's pretty clear how deep that devotion runs#(platonically or romantically. to each their own reading. and not always healthily.)#because he's as well as admitted he begged for Cas in purgatory. every. night.#Dean 'I don't pray bc i don't beg and I'm not weak'#Dean 'I would do anything for sam so i'll beg for help'#Dean 'I prayed to you. I killed my way to you. did you hear my prayers?'#it's just really somethin'.#I have to wonder if Cas knows how big that is. He must right?#(for my own tags)#dean#spn s8
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bunni-v1 · 8 months
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First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)
Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun
🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.
Ortho & Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
FIRST-YEAR SQUAD
Ace
-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.
-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 
-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.
-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.
-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.
-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 
-His first reaction is to… well… scream.
-“You’re a girl?!?”
“Why are you in my room???”
“You’ve got- boobs!”
 “Get out Ace!”
-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!
-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 
-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.
-Immediately tells Deuce.
-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).
-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.
-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 
Deuce
-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.
-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.
-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.
-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?
-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.
-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”
-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 
-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 
-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.
-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 
-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.
-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(
-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!
Jack
-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.
-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 
-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 
-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.
-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.
-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 
-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.
-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.
-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.
-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.
-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.
-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 
-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.
-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.
_”Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“…”
“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”
-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.
-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.
-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 
-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 
Epel
-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.
-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”
-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.
-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)
-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.
-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.
-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.
-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.
-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.
-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”
-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.
-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.
-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.
-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.
-“Prefect, are you a girl?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”
“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”
“…Cool.”
-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.
-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.
-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.
-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 
-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.
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primalsharkman · 4 months
Text
Petty? Pretty.
Kim Chaewon x M Reader | 🔞 Smut
[Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivals, Fake Dating]
Word Count: 5,385
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You sighed as you put the pen down at the table. It was your final exam for the year, meaning that all your hard work has officially paid off. The projects you made were certainly extraordinary, definitely leagues apart for the company you were in. However, the pressure of coming in second was like a pump shotgun being shot into the back of your head multiple times. You know, you cannot let Chaewon win again this year.
Of course, Kim Chaewon. The school's greatest academe mind since, ever. Always getting the top grades, the top approval, and all the top boys. The latter which, you really didn't care for. But she had the run of the mill, taking the best with her for her own pleasure. Stories and rumors of her taking the university's quarterback spread around like wildfire. She'd deny it, but everyone knew otherwise.
You roamed around the halls in deep thought, the heavy weight of your books in your hand was very aching, but you were close to dumping them into your locker.
"Finally..." You sighed after arriving at your locker and opening the combination, and only then dumping the books inside.
Vacation was on your mind, but you knew the year isn't over yet. A familiar scent was on your tail, and you knew exactly who wears that specific perfume in your school.
Turning around, you found the academic goddess herself, standing beside you with her bag slinging by her side and giving you a stare. "I hope you did better than you did last year, it was almost too easy for me to beat you." Chaewon said, confidently and with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at her and crossed your arms, "I've had enough of your gloating, Kim. You're an egomaniac and you really need to get yourself checked before you break down once you see I did better than you."
"Big talk for someone who's only ever beaten me once, in a team debate, no less." Her voice pierced through your heart, and it did hurt. Sure, you did never beat her one on one, but you fought her so hard that you'd get recognized and put in the same conversations as her name did.
"What do you want, Kim? Are you just going to ogle your tits in front of me? Because let's be real, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years." She just chuckled at the statement and gave your crotch a light tap using her wrist.
"Trust me, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years too. But there is something I need." That was when you just smiled at her and closed your locker before walking away from her.
Chaewon panicked and followed your pace, keeping up by your side. "H-hey, I just said I need your help!" You waved her off before she grabbed your wrist and sped up to drag you away from the halls and into an empty area away from the students.
"Listen, I know we've had our differences but this is about prom." At this point was already looking at you like she made up her mind and she will do everything to convince you.
You sighed. "Let me guess, you want me to go with you to the prom?"
"Yes."
"I don't think we should, Chaewon."
"But we could win prom king and queen."
"Does that even matter?"
"If it means beating Yunjin and her very clingy boyfriend, yes."
You just stared into her eyes after that quick exchange, but you knew how insufferable the school couple was. They were everywhere, being flirty and just rubbing it in people's noses. It was a sight.
Pacing around the room and opening a window, it was easy to see that this was an opportunity to get your name trending again. But was it worth it when Chaewon's name is going to be beside yours?
"Okay, but I will dictate the ground rules. You will wear a black dress, you will do the talking, telling people that we got together recently and that you were the first to fall for me." Chaewon just looked at you angrily while the demands were being listed.
"Ugh, fine. I'll pay that price just to stick it to her. Just see how she likes it." She may hate you, but she really doesn't like being upstaged, and unfortunately for Yunjin, she got in the way.
A quick thought entered your mind. "Oh and one more thing," Chaewon turned around. "... You're not allowed to fall in love with me."
She just smiled, "Won't be a problem, I'll see you at my place then. Don't forget to bring flowers. Ciao~" She said as she left the vicinity. You were left standing there with nothing but your bag in hand, and shortly afterwards you went home.
_____________________________________________
The drive to Chaewon's was fast, thanks to the traffic not holding people up. Her apartment was still 3 floors up, so you had to climb up the flgiht of stairs to reach her door and give her a knock.
"God why did I listen to her..." You whisper to yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers in your hand as your cheeks fill with a red blush.
Chaewon opened the door and gave you a judging smirk. "For once, you finally listen to me huh?"
Embarrassed, you just looked away and handed her the flowers, which she gladly took and had a whiff of them. "They're pretty, okay? Don't be too shy, you're acting like this is real." She giggled as she went down the stairs waiting for you.
You opened the door for her, and she went inside without a word. You breathed out a sigh of relief and went back inside the driver's seat and started driving.
It was mostly a silent trip, neither even giving each other exchanging hi's and just humming to the song playing on the radio. It was nerve-wracking for you, as she can just say anything crazy in a second.
But then you heard a sweet and soft voice speak, it was soothing to the ear and yet you know Chaewon is never this soft and sweet. "So, this is it. Time to act flirty, you'll take care of me right?" You just nodded at her, "Just behave like a good girl and we'll win your petty prize." Getting out of the car and you open the door and take her hand before guiding her inside the venue.
The vibe around the prom was magnificent. It was themed as a romantic getaway, with beach designs and a drawing of a sunset as the backdrop for the stage. You can only look around as the people start filling in the place and you stare at Chaewon.
You weren't kidding yourself, she was looking spectacular. She left the flowers in the car but even with just one flower tucked on her ear, just looking at her makes your heart skip a beat.
You found some seats for you and Chaewon to sit in, it was in plain sight so everyone could see that the two of you are in this prom together. You put your arm around Chaewon and she gladly put her hands on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch.
"Dangerous game you're playing here. Be careful not to touch anything." You gulp as you say those words.
You only heard a small chuckle as she whispered, "Try not to get hard okay? We don't want you going in the bathroom leaving me out here don't we?" She sure has her way of being very provocative.
Yunjin and her boyfriend finally showed up, dressed perfectly to compliment each other's styles. Everyone was astounded at their sight, looking like the royal couple, everyone was reminded of who they really are.
The grunt Chaewon releases between her lips was pretty cute, she was angry, but most of all she was very petty. "Okay, time to turn up the heat." Those were the last words you heard before you felt her lips crash into yours.
Her kiss felt like floating in space freely. It felt freeing and wonderful. Next thing you know, you were making out with your rival and the event hasn't even begun. You could get lost in this feeling forever, and you wanted to stay in this moment. Somehow, someway, Kim Chaewon is a perfect match for you. The way she holds you, the way she wraps her hands around you, it is truly something worthwhile.
These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud music entering your ears once you realize she let go. "...What the fuck was that for?" was all you can conjure up for your first, and possible the best kiss of your life.
"Gotta show them who's boss. And right now, we have the mental advantage. Everyone's looking at us right now." You did look around to see them whispering and muttering to each other about what they saw, even Yunjin was perplexed when she took her seat nearby.
"If this doesn't end in sex, i'm dropping you off the side of the highway." You claimed jokingly.
"Ha! As if you'd actually want to fuck me."
"With a kiss like that, now I know why all the boys want you."
"Is that a fact?"
"Oh shut up, i'm giving you a genuine compliment." Chaewon smiles after hearing that and gives you another kiss. This time, it's even more passionate. Your pants were starting to tighten and it got really, really heated. You knew you had to get some food to calm yourself down before your primal instincts take over and bend her down the table and fuck her brains out.
Once you broke the kiss, you asked her. "Do you want me to get you a plate or no?"
"Okay, boyfriend. Go get me a plate." She hit your balls again as you stood up and you lightly kicked at her feet before walking towards the catering.
Right now, you didn't give a shit about the deal you made. It doesn't matter whether you win prom king and queen, because pretending to be her partner was already a thin line to walk on, but now that she's being very playful and teasing you to great extent, you might not last the night.
You got her the plate, and you sat back down next to her. Before she could even mutter a word you just dug into the food. Thankfully she didn't say anything and just ate.
Thank god no one bothered you two, just having people pass by and smile or even give a simple wave is enough. Chaewon was a tiger in academics but socially, she is so much worse. There's a reason she doesn't have a clique, or even a best friend. She just preferred studying and going at it alone. Even with projects, you saw firsthand how she asked the professors if she could do it alone. She was granted her wishes, and she's done better than all of them. You were no slouch of course but, you're not insane enough to do group work solo.
"Let's go dance. We need to be as cute as we can." She said as she put down her fork and wiped her lips with a tissue.
"Don't fucking tap my balls again, you stand up first." Chaewon nodded and stood up, waiting for you to join her.
Taking her hand, you guided her to the dance floor and thankfully, the music was set low. There were a few people on the floor including the royal couple but the spotlight was on you. Nobody thought the two best minds in the entire university would be on good terms, let alone dating.
Chaewon did her best to act as subby as possible, knowing that it was her best chance to win those votes. She smiled, giggled at your jokes and even started talking to the other students on the dance floor while you roamed her around in the dance. If this was the Chaewon you saw in school everyday, you might've just fallen for her instantly.
"Hey, look at me for a while would you?" You said as you grabbed her chin and made her face you.
"What do you want? I'm trying to win us some favor here..." She said in a quiet but rage-filled voice.
"Is it so bad for a couple to actually look at each other and talk? Come on, you know better than that."
Chaewon just nodded and looked at you. Your heart melted through every wall you ever put up once she did. How in the hell are you falling for Chaewon? You know how she is. You know every dirty tactic and every move she's done to you. You hated how she tapped your balls everytime she found an opening. You hated the way she liked other boys. You hated it when you found out she was absent for a week due to a fever. You hated missing her. You hated falling for her at every step of the way.
Chaewon yelped when you firmly grabbed her waist, pulled her close and straightened her hair out behind her ear. "If you're gonna kiss me, I'd do it that way too."
You ignored her words and just kissed her. You didn't care if everyone was watching, you didn't care if anyone actually wanted to see it. All you wanted to do was kiss your rival. The rival you desperately tried to hate because you knew she'd never love you. The rival you never asked out because she was too busy studying her tits out. The rival you only ever loved.
As you let the kiss go, Chaewon stared at you for a moment. She immediately let that go and went back to being the same Chaewon you know. For that night, she belonged to you. And you took full advantage of that fact. You ate, you danced, you loved. It was all you could think about for the rest of the night.
It was over soon enough, and you remembered why you were there in the first place. You breathed in heavily and made Chaewon put her arm around your waist as you waited for the announcements. You didn't even listen to the announcement, all you did was feel her touches and let her hear the names she wanted to being called. Next thing you know, you were up there with her, taking a ribbon and a crown. It was pretty funny looking, but seeing Chaewon's face light up is a pretty good sight. You smiled at the crowd and thanked them for the vote.
This was when Chaewon broke free. She let you go and went to the car so she could celebrate her victory. You followed suit and went back in your car.
"Well, i've had my fill of achievements for the day. Take me home." You just nodded and drove. It was a pretty slow night drive. You didn't go over 40, mostly because you just wanted to enjoy her company more.
"That's all you wanted? Seems pretty shallow to go through all that trouble." You said.
"Then I'm shallow. All I care about is that I am on top again." Spoken as softly as she could.
"You do realize we're gonna have to break up during the summer right? I can't fake date you forever."
"Then let's break up."
"Fine."
"Fine." She just crossed her arms and sat on the passenger's seat and stayed quiet.
----------------------------------------------------------
You parked your car in the back, you wanted to clear your head space once you drop her off back at her door but you just stayed in the car first, and so did she.
The crickets chirping made the deafening sound of night feel, not so deafening. You took time to process everything that happened in there, and you looked at Chaewon, who seems to be doing the same thing.
"Hey, can I see your cock?"
"What the fuck, Chaewon?"
"Don't be a fucking pussy about it."
"I'm not in the mood."
"Why not?"
"Because... because I'm not sure if I like you or not."
"What?" Her eyes grew wider as you dropped those words.
"Just... let me think, okay? You were out here all night flirting with me like... it felt real chaewon. It felt real, all of it."
"You don't have to think about it..."
"Oh so now you're trying to restrict my thoughts of you? Don't play games with me Chaewon."
"I'm not!"
"Then why—"
"Just listen to me! You boar-headed dipshit! I like you too! Okay?! Is that enough?!"
You two just looked at each other with your eyebrows furrowed and neither of you were able to land a word after she confessed her feelings to you.
"I like you too. I didn't want to, but I like you! Get that through your thick fucking skull." She said angrily.
It was a lot to process. You both broke the rule of not falling for the other. And now you are at each other's throats because you both were confused and angry that the person both of you were trying to beat at every turn, was someone you actually were into.
If academics didn't mean a thing, you two would probably have hit it off at some point. But unfortunately, that pressure got to you both. For the first time, the weight of that pressure was actually lifted and you could only breathe out a strong, relieving sigh.
"Damn your kisses, Chaewon." You joked.
"Oh boo-hoo." She went for you and kissed you again. This time climbing out of her chair and sitting on your lap. This time, the kiss was different. It was more carnal than romantic. There was more tongue involved as you swing yours with hers and intertwined then as the shared kiss continued.
You grabbed her waist, and slowly reached out those hands into her ass. She gave out a lot moan and adjusted her position so you have full access to her plump, round ass.
She leaned her kisses towards your cheek and towards your ear, where you can hear every small moan and whimper she lets out of her mouth.
The hands you had around her ass were fondling them and enjoying the soft cushions they gave you. Chaewon was already getting wet, but you have yet to know that. You didn't want to go over what she considers her boundaries so you didn't move a muscle.
She felt your cock under her getting bigger and she just looked into your eyes. "Hey... we should take this inside."
You nodded and opened the door so she can climb out. You followed her and locked your car before heading up those dreaded stairs to her door. Once the two of you get there, she immediately opened it with her keys and dragged you inside by your collar.
It only took a shut of the door for her to throw herself at you with another kiss, jumping into your arms so your hands can carry her thighs as she wrapped her legs around you.
"Fuck..." you could only mutter as she rained down heavy kisses on your lips, your ears, and even your neck. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, and for your virgin ass, you went along for the ride.
"Take me to my bed. And take that goddamn suit off already."
"Yes, baby." You dragged your feet through the room and plopped her down the bed. You untied your necktie and threw it across the room. She kneeled on the bed as you stood over her, and she grabbed your polo and unbuttoned each and every single one while giving you the hungriest look a horny woman can give.
It was obvious she was having fun playing this game, and it felt like hell for you. Your cock was twitching in your pants and it started to hurt. She noticed you wincing and took off the polo before unbuckling the belt in your pants.
Her head was dangerously close to your cock and your hand moved itself to brush her hair and hold it down to your crotch, which was her eye-level. She pulled it all down and your cock sprung to hit her nose.
"Ow..." she said as she grabbed the hard cock in her hands, smiling.
"Your hands are pretty nice..."
"It fits your cock really well." She giggled and hummed as she dragged her hand down the length of your cock as you moan out quietly. She knew not to put too much pressure and she knew the perfect way to touch your cock and give you the pleasure your body is used to.
All you could do was grab her hair and turn it into a makeshift ponytail, where she smirked. "You know what it means when a guy does that to a girl right?"
"I think so. Do I get a guess?"
"No. You just get to feel your consequences." Her lips enveloped itself around the head of your cock, and the heat from her mouth makes you hold on the ponytail tighter.
She looks up at you as she takes your cock in painfully slow, licking along the way. You were panicking as the pleasure was getting too much for you, and Chaewon was just getting started. You didn't want to be a 10-second wonder.
She kept working around your cock, drenching it in her spit and sucking it like it was her final project. She's making sure it felt perfect.
Your legs were shaking at this point, your cheeks turning red at the possibility of you not being able to control yourself and not cum in her mouth. These sensations got you to let her hair go and put your hand on the wall nearby so you won't fall down.
Chaewon dragged her mouth down to the last inch of your cock, and tightly pulled out giving your cock a light lick at the end before she sat up and looked at you. "You're gonna cum, aren't you?"
"I'm trying so hard not to." You decided to be honest with her.
She pulled your waist down so you're sitting beside her. She gave you a smile and said, "Cum inside my mouth. I really want to know how nerd tastes." She giggled as she went down on your cock again, not holding out anymore and giving you the most sloppy and disgustingly heavenly blowjob you've ever had.
Her tongue was circling around your length as she bobbed her head up and down. You couldn't even speak due to how good she was sucking your cock. All you could do was grip her sheets and moan out her name again and again.
Her lips kissed your underside, and her free hand gave your balls some love, fondling them. She took your cock inside again and deepthroated every inch you can give her.
She was blushing. She enjoyed sucking cock, especially if that cock belonged to someone she knew on a personal level from many years ago. Sure, it was all on hatred, but she knew you better than anyone, and that turned her on even more.
Your cock was twitching in her mouth, she knew you weren't gonna last longer, so she pumped and sucked and the same time, and that was all it took for you to explode.
"M-ngmhHgh! Chaewon...! mmgh! fuck!" That was the most coherent sentence you can come up with while your body was in ecstacy. Orgasming to the point not even you have reached before.
Her mouth stayed where it was, your cum filling her cheeks as she swallowed each strand of cum, one stroke after another.
When she was done, she sucked your cock to clean it, and wiped her lips off before laughing.
"Nerd doesn't really taste different from jock. But I gotta say, your cock was so much cleaner and doesn't smell as bad."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"Yeah, no one sucks cock better than me."
You sat up and put a hand around her thigh. "So, what's next?"
She smiled as she pushed you down, "You're the first guy to ask for what I want."
You turned your head to look at her and she was taking off her dress, and you were watching her show off her body to you.
You were blushing but the next thing you see was her towering over you, and you get a VIP look of her beautiful pussy. It was shaven, it was perfect, and you wanted a piece.
Your mouth opened and she smiled before lowering herself down to you and sitting down on your face. She grinded slowly as you moved your tongue to eat her pussy out.
Her taste was a new sensation to you. The first time you've ever ate pussy, and you're already getting addicted to her taste. She was sweating and that only added to the tang of her flavor, you dug your tongue deep in her folds.
Your tongue found her hole opening up and you slid it in. "Oh..! Good boy... that's a good boy..." Chaewon muttered while hissing and holding on to your hair.
You closed your eyes and moved you head to tongue fuck her, as she moaned loudly like she had no neighbors. She gripped her bedside and bounced on your tongue as she kept moaning.
"Yes... baby... oh fuck! come on..." She kept hissing and moaning under the sensation of your upper lip kissing her clit and tongue fucking her. You picked up the pace and held on her thighs, taking your tongue out of her hole and focusing on licking the clit fast and good.
"Oh it has been a while! Yes! Don't you dare fucking stop, don't stop, don't stop!" She kept screaming while grinding her pussy on your tongue on her clit. You put more pressure by pushing your tongue into her sensitive clit more and more as she gets brought to the brink of her orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum! Please, don't stop! I'll get off if I want you to stop, okay? Please just... ah! Keep going!" Chaewon says as she reaches her orgasm and grinds on you harder as her moans become more hoarse and heavy.
You kept licking her to destroy her senses and feel an seemingly un-ending orgasm for Chaewon. She got off you and laid down the bed before catching her breath.
"Where... how did you learn... to eat pussy like that?"
"I never did. I only know the clit is the most sensitive part so, I guessed."
"You're a natural then, god damn. Despite being a nerd, that knowledge came in handy. Try using that knowledge to beat me next year okay?"
"What if I beg you to lose for once?"
"That's a price you don't wanna know." She smirked as she recovers.
"More pussy eating?"
"I have a list of demands. I'd rather show them to you before we start school next year."
"Good. But we're not done here Chae." You show her your hardened cock once again, showing her you have recovered from her blowjob.
Chaewon smirks and lifts her ass a little bit. "I want it deep, hard, and fast. None of that slow, methodical, romantic bullshit."
"You got it." You lined yourself up behind her and didn't even hesitate to stroke your cock and slide it deep in her.
"Mmph! Good! Just like that." All Chaewon could do was moan on her pillow as you started picking up the pace and fucking her pussy like your life depended on it.
You grabbed her ass and spanked it, earning a yelp from the girl. She kept asking for more, so you put a strong hold on her hips and crashed your cock deep inside her wet pussy again and again and again.
The sound of your sex was echoing across the room, it was erotic and accompanied with her moans after every thrust, it was truly music to your ears.
"Yes! Your cock is so big inside me! I love every single inCh of it! Mmm!"
Slapping her ass, you kept your mouth open and joined her moaning. "Good god Chaewon, your pussy is so good! So wet and so fucking delicious." You gave her ass another slap.
"Ah! So it is! Fuck I wanna fuck you again and again. Please, make me cum again, make me yours and I won't ever be a bitch around you again!"
"Good girl, I like that." You pulled her arms back into you and grabbed her head so your face is buried in her neck while you fuck her from behind.
"F-Fuck! Rub my clit!" You follow her command and rub her clit in the same pace you're fucking her pussy.
Her moans get even louder and you had to use your hand to cover it up so her neighbors wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Her bed was rocking and it was making a lot of noise. Between the creaking, the moaning, the sloshing sounds the sex was making, it was very hard to hide the fact you were fucking her like a machine.
She kept begging for you to cum inside her and you keep telling her to wait. You were looking for your orgasm but she was ready to unload hers.
"I'm gonna fucking squirt all over! Please I want your cum! I'm gonna fucking... ah!" You pulled out as you felt gushes of water from under her. You held on to her neck as she gripped your arm tightly while she was squirting. Your arm reached down and rubbed her clit so it felt extra pleasureable to her.
"God! I made a mess..." She yelped before you took her body and lied it down on the dry part of the bed and kissed her hard.
You slid your cock back in and fucked her in missionary. Her legs were up in the air as she was moaning in your kiss. The thrusts your cock was giving to her kept sloshing as the rest of her squirt and the never ending wetness of her pussy was lubricating your cock to the point where it looked like cum.
She already came multiple times and she wasn't going to stop, until you did. "What is taking so long?! Mm! My pussy is destroyed here... you need to fill me up, please daddy."
That was the last straw. The final push you needed. Once you heard her say daddy, your senses kicked into overdrive and you fucked her like a machine one more time before unloading your second round of cum in her pussy.
This orgasm hit you like a truck, it felt good, but once it was finished you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. It was tiring and you were drained.
"I guess... daddy is the magic word then." Chaewon giggled as she wrapped her arms around you and pecked your lips.
"I'm sorry I didn't warn you. You must've been so surprised."
"No, actually. I knew you were tightening up when your cock pulsated aggresively. So I expected the creampie sooner."
"God damn it, you're not gonna get pregnant now are you?"
"I'll be okay. I wouldn't have let you fuck if I was in danger of getting pregnant anyway." She giggled again.
"Really? Even after the kissing we've done earlier?" You sound a bit perplexed at this point.
"I'm not an idiot. I'm smarter than you, remember? Don't feel superior just because I called you daddy once."
"I'm just curious, no need to gloat."
She kissed your cheek and chuckled. "I'm okay, you don't need to worry."
You nodded and pulled out her before lying down beside. "So, what now?"
"What about it?" She looked upwards at the ceiling.
"What are we?"
"Right now? I can't say."
"We just told each other we liked each other. What else is there to think about?"
Chaewon playfully hits your arm. "You need to court me, genius."
"Wouldn't you just say yes immediately?"
"I probably would."
You held her hand and kissed it. "So, will you be my girlfriend?"
Chaewon smiles, and turns towards you. "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."
~FIN~
A/N: That was rough for a first fic, I didn't proof read this so I'm open to suggestions and whatnot. Twitter is the same handle as this one, you know where to find me.
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bayjaruchel · 6 months
Text
Never Too Much
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Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: There are certain things that your boyfriend really likes to do. (2.2k, mostly cunnilingus | originally posted on ao3) | Masterlist )
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Mike takes his time with you, when he can. 
He likes being able to pace himself. By now, he knows your body very well; every curve and harsh edge, every single little detail. He's traced up your contours with his fingertips and kissed all the way back down again. Even though he's generally not the best at keeping calm, he's a very patient lover when given the chance to be. After your first few— and frantic — times together, he's slowed down considerably. 
However, there are still exceptions to that pattern.
Like when you don't have the time for anything slow; such as the minutes before he has to get ready for work. When you're both still a little groggy, but still need each other. Or when he knows he won't be free for most of the day, and you want to make it up to him. You fumble for each other, a determined clash of hands and lips and warm skin, both desperate to make the other person finish first. The sheets get twisted awkwardly around his legs— the hardwood floor makes your knees sore— but it's completely and utterly worth it. For every time you can't properly make love— in the purest definition of the phrase— there's always going to be a time when you leave each other completely breathless and spent afterward. No matter the technique, he's mastered the art of thoroughly taking you apart. 
There is one specific thing that Mike just can't be patient with, though. 
"Shit—" 
He's always been eager to eat you out. 
No matter the time or place. It could be during one of those brief periods, or during the long hours of the night where you have all the time in the world. He just can't wait. And he isn't waiting right now, even redoubling his efforts when you tighten your grip in his hair. His head bobs, slightly, as he drags his tongue through your gathering wetness, up towards the aching apex of your pleasure. 
A gasp is punched from your lungs when Mike closes his lips around your clit and sucks, for just a moment, before returning to your cunt. He shifts forward to get even deeper than before, lapping at you in broad strokes, equally calculated and clumsy. His enthusiasm is palpable, as usual. The sounds he's making— almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then that send pleasant vibrations through you— they fill the air, easily overpowering everything else. His eyelashes flutter now and then, but occasionally he looks up at you, taking you in. You know how you look: nearly as disheveled as him. 
Your thighs twitch as he continues to savor you. Whenever he moves back up to gently flick your clit with his tongue, his breath comes in hot puffs through his nostrils. He always takes a deep inhale before diving back in, totally uncaring towards the way his spit and your slick must be dripping down his chin. He's not afraid to get messy. In fact, you think he likes it— he likes the evidence of your arousal clinging to your stubble, the knowledge of what he does to you. The knowledge of what he can do to you.  "Mike," you gasp again, "oh, fuck. That's— that's so good— " 
His mouth is still occupied, but he hums, muffled into your cunt. The praise has always done something for him. But you don't just say it because he likes it— you say it because you mean it, truly. The fact that you can see his hips shift a little at your words is just an added bonus. He hasn't even attempted to reach down to touch himself yet, even though you know he must be tenting his boxers. Even though you know that by the time you get close, there'll be a wet spot in the fabric.  
"You don't even have to beg for it anymore," you tease, even though you're too breathless for it to really land, "you know I'll let you do this again and again, even if I'm supposed to be doing something else." You're a sucker for him, and he knows it. Biting your lower lip, you use the hand in his curls to tug him closer. He's just like putty in your hands. "Maybe you like to beg a little, huh? Is that right?" 
You decide to take his answering moan as a yes. Mike looks up at you with heavy hazel eyes— pleading, again— wanting to tell you what he wants, but he also doesn't want to stray from his task at hand. Sometimes you wonder what you did to earn this. It's practically worship, at this point. You make a hasty mental note to repay him later, but it's hard to concentrate when he's putting all of his effort into pushing you towards your orgasm. You can feel your muscles tensing, the heat in your abdomen building—   
He's gradually focusing more and more of his attention on your clit now. But he's still dragging his tongue through your cunt, tasting you, collecting what's accumulating there. You jolt when his nose bumps against your sensitive nub, providing much-needed friction in the absence of his tongue. Although you definitely aren't the first person that he's done this to, you know for a fact that you're the person he's done this the most to. How do you know? He's told you himself. 
Cuntdrunk is a good word to describe him. If he could, he'd live between your thighs forever. 
You choke on a whimper. Mike takes in that sound— greedily, needily, he needs more. Scrambling to get a grip on one of your knees, he squeezes it once, pulling it closer to his head. And you understand the signal immediately. You close your thighs around his head, essentially trapping him where he is. Forcing him deeper. His brow furrows, nose pressed against your clit. The first time he wanted you to do this, you were afraid that he'd suffocate; that you'd hurt him. But by now, you're well aware that it won't happen, as long as you're careful not to push him down too much. 
He really likes being pushed like this, though. It empties his head, he says. Yours is pretty empty at the moment, too. You're blissfully absent, hardly tethered to Earth. You only really register the feeling of his hair tickling your thighs and shins, from where you've got them positioned— the pillow underneath your hips— his tongue. The pace he's keeping now is almost feverish— 
— minutes pass, and you're so, so, close. You can feel it, toes curling when he sucks on your clit again. You can't bite back the sounds that you're making anymore, your mouth falling open as your breathing grows more uneven the closer you get. Your thighs tighten an increment, your heart pumping furiously. The sensations are nearly overwhelming, but you can do little except take what he's giving you. "Just like that— mmhn — keep going, that's perfect—" 
You're teetering on the edge for a split second, but what finally pushes you over is another glance downward. Mike is— to put it simply — ruined. 
His hair's all messy from when you'd been tugging at it earlier, his cheeks a brilliant red. Almost the entire lower half of his face proudly displays the confirmation of what he's been doing this entire time. If his eyes weren't shut, you know they would be hazy, glazed-over— you haven't even touched him yet, disregarding a few kisses— and he's already fucked-out. All because of you. 
"Mike!" You squirm, eyes squeezing shut, "Mike, I'm—" 
He groans into your pussy when you cum, eagerly licking up all the remnants of your orgasm. The coil unwinds in waves, which crash through your lower body. 
He works at you until the abrupt heat in your gut fades away, replaced by a relaxed warmth, and you start shuddering with oversensitivity. 
You could let him continue— he'd keep going for as long as he possibly could. He'd make you cum as many times as humanly possible if you let him. However, you release his head from between your thighs instead, letting your legs slip down to lay on his shoulders. As soon as he's free, he starts taking deep lungfuls of air, catching his breath. Just like you. Which is sort of ironic, since he was the one doing all the work. 
He rests his cheek on your inner thigh, leaving a wet smear there. You can't really bring yourself to care, though. 
Mike looks at you, still bleary-eyed. 
" 'S good?" He asks, hoarsely. 
You know you're not done with him yet. 
"Yeah." Fondly, you smile down at him. He easily returns it. When you scooch back to sit up against the headboard, he instinctively shuffles forward to fill the newly created space. Your eyes flick downward when he goes to sit up, too, finally exposing his lap— 
"Uh." Mike clears his throat. 
"Could you … " He trails off, but you doubt it's entirely because of embarrassment. 
"I was already planning on it," you reply lightly, already going to place one hand on the back of his neck to tug him closer. He goes, and positions himself so he's hovering over you; spreading his knees just so, he's still looking at you reverently. 
"That's good," he breathes. 
"You want me to suck you off or something?" The suggestion is extremely casual, like always. But his breath still audibly hitches, and he swallows.  
"... You want me to blow in five seconds?" 
Snorting, you thumb over his cheek. He leans into your touch, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "I'm serious," he insists, voice low. "It'd be really terrible. You don't want that, right?" 
"I don't know." You shrug as best you can. "It's kind of hot, knowing that you got that worked up from just eating me out." 
He contemplates this for a second. 
"Fair enough." 
But then, he drops his tone and murmurs, "I still don't want it to end that quickly." 
"You don't?" 
"I don't." 
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, and pretend to ignore the snicker it elicits from him. 
"But I was looking forward to returning the favor." 
It's Mike's turn to shrug. "Plenty of other opportunities for that later, y'know." 
Admitting defeat is the worst thing ever. 
"I guess you're right," you concede. "Fine." 
"I guess I'm— " he starts to mimic under his breath, but the rest of his words are expelled in a single whoosh when you squeeze him through his boxers. "— fuck." 
A crease forms between his eyebrows again as you continue to feel him out. You were right. Near where his tip was resting, you can feel a small, slightly damp spot. It's enough to make you throb, once— no matter how many times this happens, you'll never get used to this. Your patience is quickly failing, like his.
"You were saying?" You ask innocently, while hooking your fingers in his waistband. 
Mike quickly shifts from his previous snark, right back to need. 
"I was— I was saying—" His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, "— how much I need you to touch me right now. " The last part of his sentence is barely a whisper. "Please."   
And there it is, you want to quip, but you think you've done enough for now. His boxers come off easily, and you unceremoniously wrap your hand around his cock. That's enough to make him shudder, a small noise escaping his parted lips. There's no need for build-up anymore, so you just start pumping him. He quakes, and then leans in, nudging your nose with his. Wordlessly asking permission. 
You can still taste a little of yourself on his tongue when you kiss him, leisurely. You drink in what was previously muffled by your cunt. He twitches in your palm, lips pliant and tender against yours, but still a discernible force. A comfortable presence, sharing the same breaths as you. He kisses you again and again until he has to draw back for air. 
Mike breathes your name, high-pitched and trembling, as warmth shoots into your hand a few minutes later. 
"That's it," you murmur, coaxing the rest of it out of him, "that's it. There you go." 
You both just lay there for a couple of long moments. It feels like raw electricity wherever your bare skin is touching his. It's like a current, of sorts. He's still shaking, faintly, either from the exertion or the fact that he's most likely still a little oxygen-deprived. It's probably a nice mix of both. But when that subsides, you both reluctantly roll off the bed, clumsily plodding to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 
The tile is cool underneath your bare feet. He stands nice and still as you clean your dried cum off his face. You stay nice and still while he cleans you up, too.
When you're throwing the used towel in the laundry bin, he speaks up. Now that the residual heat has faded, you can feel goosebumps starting to prickle across your skin. 
"I love you," he says. 
You are both naked, a little damp, and standing in the bathroom. 
But somehow, it all fits together. It makes sense. 
You turn to face him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands automatically land on your hips. Mike watches you, obvious worry glimmering in his eyes. He's unsure if that was the right thing to say. 
Then: 
"I love you," you conclude. 
The tension all but melts from his shoulders. 
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anantaru · 11 months
Text
— biting them affectionately
including alhaitham, kaveh, scaramouche, heizou, tighnari, albedo, kazuha, cyno x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, this is so random
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alhaitham, who will be at loss of words at first— while, keep in mind, it wasn't easy to get the scribe speechless like that, regardless of how he was never bitten in his life. however, he told himself to never question whenever you'd do anything like that, so for one, he'd simply look at you confused and irritated, before asking you with a stern and stoic blush on his cheeks, "why?" it's not like he doesn't know, but for some reason did he find it quite amusing whenever you'd explain yourself over such little, hilarious things. but, when you decide to bite him again, without answering, he'd just ignore you and keep reading his book.
one might think kaveh will act slightly different than alhaitham, but he's equally confused yet the moment you bite him he'd let out a yell, animalistic, one overly dramatic scream of fake pain, channeling his vocal chords to their fullest extent. "what was that for?!" he whines, rubbing the pulsing red spot on his shoulder, "i just love you." you smile and now, again, he finds himself seeing you as the most adorable thing to ever exist. discernibly did you sense your precious chance of biting him many more times, only faintly, but strong enough to have your boyfriend whine and airily laugh before engaging in a playful fight with you.
if you think scaramouche won't bite you back, you're one naive and wide-eyed individual. this man also doesn't hold back, he'll give it his all to win what you have started. don't be upset when he starts biting you heavier than you do, he sees it as a serious showdown now. "don't go running off now." you're not admitting defeat yet, he fears, but you will, he's sure of it. by now, he has you caged in between his arms while a breezing pain in your belly began to expel, from all the sweet and heavy laughing and cheering. whether or not you will win was long since in the back of your head, what counted was seeing kuni engage in something silly for once, and having a great time at that.
heizou's quick and precise thinking skills were deeply needed in the predicament you both found yourself in. one minute you were lazily cuddling and kissing under the silken sheets before you decided to bite him out of nowhere, not hard, but impressionable. specifically against his neck where he was the most sensitive, "augh." he growls before looking at you, somewhat intrigued, "that came out of nowhere." he huffs, and in some strange way was he already beginning to plan his bloody revenge on you, pulling you on your back before dragging your hands over your head, so you're out of commission, so it's him who can decide where to give you a taste of your own medicine.
at the outset, tighnari thought a random bug bit him out of nowhere, he couldn't even fathom that it was you biting him out of the blue. "wait." he stops the work on his desk, tilting his head to the side where you were comfortably seated in, eagerly, awaiting a response, "was that you?" you can feel the sass in his full sentence as it spread through the seconds of silence before your answer goes right through, "nope." someone must give you an award for keeping your laugh in like that, especially when it was burning and bristling inwardly, "a bug." you shrug, "no, it's you." assuming you're playing mind tricks, he catches the smirk on your lips, "dangerous territory." he coos, the bite mark on his shoulder matches your teeth and thanks to closer inspection he confirms his suspicions. well, good luck to you.
it's not out of the ordinary for albedo to question something insignificant and random a little too deep. "how interesting." he rests his chin against his palm, "is this considered normal amongst humans?" a glittering, infectious smile pulls itself around your lips when he quizzes you on it, over and over, and you settle to do it again without responding, shortly gnawing down on his shoulder, "for me it is." while ruffling his hair until it was practically falling out of the small ponytail, "i see." albedo drags you closer, "should i return it?" by the look of things, this might become a daily occurrence now.
"oh?" kazuha brushes over his arm, holding eye contact, "you're strong." and feigns the heavy proudness in his voice. in actuality, he barely felt your teeth dig into his flesh, but he found the noises you made beyond cute, kind of high pitched within its hilarity. all and all, was this just one of the many things he fell in love with when it came to you and his face lights up in delight and interest when he notices the transparent joy on your lips. there's an almost imperceptible happiness across his entire skin, sparking at the outline of his jaw and littering in his eyes, "now." he slants forward, getting his point across, "my turn!"
quite frankly, did your boyfriend cyno get the impression that you were actually mad at him at first, alas why you decided to bite his cheek right after hugging him, that's the hypothesis of the day. turns out you weren't, shocker, but he rubs the squishy flesh before questioning it— with you, naturally responding right away, "it's because i love you." you assure him, "so you can see it as an act of love." and jokingly bite him again, this time slightly lighter and only a bit, emphasizing your point. after carefully thinking about it more upfront, cyno finds himself enjoying it and doesn't mind when you bite him as much as you see fit, as long as you're happy that is.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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ellemj · 5 months
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Half-Tongue Rule: 12 Days of Smut #1
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: A little Asgardian liquor and a whole lot of tension leads to a teeny tiny bit of smut between you and a certain jealous super soldier.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, teasing, public teasing, jealous!Bucky, slight DUBCON if you consider it so, alcohol consumption, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 9k (I'm very sorry)
A/N: Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for both catching my mistakes in writing and helping with warnings. She's the reason I don't give in to my daily urge to delete my whole blog lmao. Also, I apologize for this being an hour later than planned. It has been a day. This is just a lil baby smut but I think each day of this event will get filthier and filthier as I get closer to my favorite storylines.
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         You hate parties. You hate the amount of alcohol that people seem to need to consume just to enjoy each other’s company. You hate the way you feel obligated to stay for a certain length of time just to appease the host. You especially hate the way parties make it hard to even hear your own thoughts. Or maybe you just hate Tony Stark’s parties, specifically. His parties are classy, yet overly loud and hard to break away from when you’re ready to leave. However, you still accepted the Christmas party invitation that Pepper so kindly emailed you three weeks ago. It would’ve been too difficult to come up with a fake excuse for missing it when half of you live in the same building.
         So, that’s what led you here, taking the elevator up to the top floor of Stark Tower, standing with your back pressed against the cold metal wall as you listen to the chatter of the various SHIELD employees who piled into the elevator with you. The only familiar faces on the ride up are Sharon and Wanda. The three of you arrived together, but you know as soon as the elevator lets you out into the party, they’ll both disappear into the crowd to be social butterflies. Your dress is so thin that the cool temperature of the elevator wall sends a chill down your spine, making you regret having left your winter coat downstairs like everyone else.
         The sound of music playing through the speakers just a little way higher in the elevator shaft reaches your ears and you take a deep breath. You remind yourself that parties are supposed to be fun and that you put all of this effort into looking hot as fuck, you need to find a way to enjoy the night. You tell yourself to be free and have a little fun, not to hide away in a corner refusing to have even one drink, and not to rush out of here before it’s been at least an hour.
         When the elevator slows to a halt and starts filing out to join the lively, festive gathering ahead, your legs refuse to carry you forward. The lower half of your body hasn’t quite gotten the whole be free and have a little fun memo yet. Wanda shoots you a disapproving look paired with a small frown and shakes her head before reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist. She pulls you along with her and suddenly, you’re immersed in Christmas music and Christmas cheer.
         “Don’t be a buzzkill. Have a few drinks for once and loosen up, you’re can be the life of the party when you’re a little drunk.” Wanda commands, ushering you a few steps further away from the elevator. You’re about to remind her that she’s only ever seen you drunk once, and that it’s been over a year since then, but as soon as her eyes land on Vision across the room, she’s gone. You find yourself standing alone in your little burgundy dress. You take a moment to let your eyes roam over the crowd, noticing how almost everyone is in black or navy. You see a couple of women in forest green dresses, and even one in a dress that’s as white as snow, but no one else is wearing the same color as you. Damn. That’ll make it a little harder to blend in in the corner.
         You let out a soft sigh before pushing your loosely curled hair back over your shoulder and turning to the left to head to the small bar. One drink. You can have one drink and pretend like you’re enjoying this before you make your great escape. Though the expansive room is quite crowded with people, the bar itself isn’t so bad. The bartender is quick to pass you your glass of whiskey neat as he shoots you a kind smile. You’re only one sip in when you notice the bartender’s eyes look past you, over your shoulder, at someone else. You await the inevitable approach of whoever it is that’s behind you as you savor the slight burn of the whiskey trickling down your throat.
         “You showed.” Sam’s voice rings out from behind you. He steps up to the bar and rests his elbows on it, standing a little to your left. You turn to face him and find him grinning from ear to ear. His infectious smile has always made you feel a little more at ease, and so you find yourself relaxing the tiniest bit in his presence. You lift the glass to your lips and take a second sip. Sam studies you while he waits for a beer, taking in your deep burgundy dress and your quiet demeanor. He knows parties aren’t your thing, but he also knows you can be more fun than just about anyone he’s ever met when you have a little bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. It’s not that you need to drink to be a fun person, but you keep yourself so reined in, so on task most of the time, that you forget to live. When you drink, you let yourself relax a little and your guard goes down just enough for you to have a good time without overthinking it. “Whiskey neat?” Sam asks, eyeing your drink of choice. You nod your head and drag your fingertip around the rim of your glass, glancing down at the amber-colored liquid.
         “I wanted to look mysterious and brooding. Holding a glass of whiskey makes a girl look mysterious and brooding, right?” You ask jokingly, giving Sam a small smile. He chuckles and stands up straight as the bartender presses a bottle of beer into his hand. He turns to fully face you now but his gaze continues to span across the room until it lands on a certain super soldier. Bucky stands tall beside one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a well-fitted pair of black dress pants with an even better-fitted black button up adorning his torso. You take in the unusual sight of his vibranium arm on display. You’ve never seen him with his sleeves rolled up like this before. He looks a bit like a successful CEO of some company that earns him a few million dollars a year, especially with those gold accents in the crevices of his arm. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the man who you’ve been strategically avoiding at all costs.
         “If you want to look mysterious and brooding, you should talk to the cyborg over there. He has that look down pat.” Sam says with a laugh. He won’t say it to either of you out loud, but Sam thinks you and Bucky are so similar that you could’ve been cut from the same cloth. He knows people say that opposites attract, but he has to wonder if that’s always the case. To anyone else, it would seem like you and Bucky hate each other, even though you work together so seamlessly in the field. Sam has witnessed an odd sort of vibe between the two of you multiple times before, something that walks a very thin line between hatred and sexual tension. Neither of you have ever given Sam enough solid evidence that it’s anything besides a mutual dislike, but he can tell. He may not know just how right he is about the two of you, but he knows something is there.
As if Bucky could feel your eyes on him, he turns his head ever-so-slightly and meets your gaze. His blue eyes are always so piercing, seeing right through you and making you feel on edge for absolutely no reason. The moment he looked at you was the moment you should’ve put your drink down and switched to water for the rest of the evening. But when Thor arrived a few moments later, bearing the gift of Asgardian liquor, you decided to drink your demons away for one night.
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         “What’s going on over there?” Sam’s question catches the attention of the small crowd of Avengers that are gathered around one end of the bar, as he points across the bar where you and Thor seem to be engaged in a more-than-friendly conversation. Sharon smiles deviously and Bucky’s jaw clenches, already hating where this is going.
         “Thor’s trying to close the deal with her. He gave her a little Asgardian liquor, and I think it’s going to pay off for him.” She explains, lifting her colorful drink to her lips and taking a long sip. Bucky watches you closely for a moment, picking up on the fact that you’re definitely past tipsy. Thor is seated on a barstool and you stand in front of him, laughing at something he’s just said as he smiles down at you. Bucky’s jaw clenches again when he sees you playfully rest a hand on Thor’s knee. Bucky would like to think that your hand is there for balance, but he knows that’s not what this is. Not at all. He scoffs and finishes off his own glass of whiskey.
         “It’s not going to pay off for him.” Bucky mumbles, trying to ignore the unfamiliar feeling that’s rising up in his chest. Jealousy. You wouldn’t go for a guy who’s shamelessly flirting with you after liquoring you up, just to get you into bed. You thrive off of banter, off of arguing with someone to the point of wanting to shut them up with your body. Bucky isn’t positive, but he’s fairly sure that he knows this about you. He picks up on the way you come alive when the two of you end up in a heated argument after a mission goes awry, he picks up on the way your frustration in the field brings about a different kind of tension between the two of you on the trips back to the compound. You aren’t the type to fall head over heels for a few compliments and a pretty face, even if the guy is a god. Thor would be too easy for you. And if Bucky has learned anything about you after butting heads with you for the past two months, it’s that you like a challenge more than anything.
         “It looks like it is.” Sam claims, pointing a finger in your direction now. Bucky looks again and sees Thor leaning in close to you, whispering something in your ear that makes your cheeks a little more pink. He catches himself squeezing his whiskey glass so hard that it might’ve shattered if he hadn’t released it onto the bar. Thor rises from the barstool, towering over you by at least a foot, shoots you a suggestive look, and then walks past you. Everyone watches as he heads straight for the elevator, making a quick exit from the party, everyone except Bucky. He’s focused on you as you turn your whole body to see Thor walk away. It’s clear that he’s daring you to follow him out, to run off somewhere for a late-night rendezvous, anyone can see that. Sam and Sharon have seemingly lost interest in the situation at hand and they quickly dive into their own conversation. Bucky continues watching you closely, his eyes narrowed and zoned in on you, as you finish off your drink and set your glass down on the bar. When you finally look back up, you look straight at him. As soon as your eyes meet his, he notices the way every muscle in your body tenses. Fuck it.
         His walk is confident, nearly cocky, and you can tell he’s seething. You watch him so carefully as he makes his way through the crowded room, noticing how everyone parts as soon as they see him coming. He’s clearly sporting a bit of a mood and no one here would dare be on the receiving end of that. As Bucky approaches you, his eyes bore into yours, with no trace of a smile or kind greeting to be found behind his blue eyes. You swallow hard, getting ready for one of his signature scoffs or briefly worded insults.
         “Bucky—” You start, ready to diffuse whatever argument your sometimes-field partner is about to begin with you. He doesn’t even slow down as he nearly barrels into you, his vibranium hand wrapping around your wrist, forcing you away from the bar. He turns you around roughly and pushes you in front of him, straight through a corner door that he’s throwing open with his right hand. Suddenly, you’re immersed in even dimmer lights as he closes the door behind him, effectively shutting the two of you off from the rest of the party. His grip on your wrist loosens and you can smell the soft tinge of the same whiskey you’ve been drinking tonight on his lips. The music is muffled in here and it helps you get ahold of your thoughts before you turn to face the little shit that dragged you in here against your will. When you turn around, Bucky stands still in front of the door, his vibranium hand uncharacteristically unobscured by any sort of glove. It gleams in the low light and distracts you for a brief second, before you look up at him.
         “What the hell, Bucky?” Your voice is raspy from the burn of the whiskey and Asgardian liquor. It feels a bit like you swallowed rocks, but the buzz it all gave you is worth it. As annoyed as you should be with Bucky right now for manhandling you like he’s anything but your occasional partner in the field, you can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks tonight. His dark pants show off just how muscular his legs are, specifically his thighs. They also show off just how well-endowed he is in a different department, but you try hard not to think about that. Bucky catches you looking him up and down, unfortunately, as you’re not the slyest when you’ve been drinking liquor that works against even a super soldier’s metabolism.
         “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His tone is patronizing, but his words send an all-too-familiar heat rushing between your legs. You instinctively listen to him, shifting your eyes up to meet his. His command felt almost lustful to you but his gaze is harsh. Maybe you just felt like it was lustful because you wanted it to be. You do tend to get a little horny when you’ve been drinking, and with the Asgardian buzz, everything starts to seem a little porny. You swallow, closing your mouth and waiting for the man to say anything else. He takes his time choosing his words, as he lets his eyes rake over your body just like your eyes raked over his a moment ago. He didn’t get a good enough look at your dress when you were all the way across the bar, but now he’s decided that he fucking hates it.
         “Bucky?” You prompt, tilting your head to the side, trying to get him to look in your eyes again. When he finally does, his gaze remains cold and harsh.
         “You showed up at a party just to get drunk and go home with Thor?” He questions, his tone both accusing and condescending. You scoff, taking a step backward and crossing your arms over your chest. This small action lifts your breasts and you notice Bucky’s eyes briefly lower to steal a glance. God. He wishes he’d found a darker closet to force you into.
         “Fuck you for that.” You spit back at him, narrowing your eyes and shooting daggers in his direction. He laughs lowly and watches as you wobble a bit on your heels, the buzz from the liquor developing into more of a state of drunkenness as your body struggles to metabolize it.
         “You would fuck me. You’d fuck anyone after drinking what he gave you.” Bucky tosses out the insult with ease, a cocky smirk painted on his face. You run your hands through your hair, wondering when the room started tilting to one side.
         “I wouldn’t fuck you, but anyone else maybe. What are we doing in here, James?” You ask, looking around the small, empty supply closet that you seem to be in. You take one step back and lean against the wall behind you for a little support. Bucky chuckles at the sight of you, making such an effort to fight off his insults and maintain your balance at the same time. He’s never really been around you when you’ve been drinking, and he finds it unbelievably amusing.
         “Are you lying to yourself or just to me?” His voice is lower now, a little quieter and a lot more charged with something. You want to say it’s charged with lust, but again, the porny haze might just be from your own point of view. However, Bucky is feeling that porny haze in the air as well. Hell, Bucky’s the one creating it. You push his question to the back of your mind, focusing on what you want to know. If he would just hurry up and tell you why he forced you into a damn supply closet, you could walk out of here and head downstairs to find Thor and start having some real fun.
         “Let’s try this one last time, what are we doing in here?” You repeat, pushing yourself away from the wall and stepping closer to him? You’re only a foot apart from each other now, and you can see him much better from this distance in the low lighting.
         “I’m keeping you from making a stupid decision.”
         “No, you’re kind of cockblocking, if you even know what that is.” You retort, rolling your eyes and turning to the left as you reach for the door handle. Bucky quickly reaches out with his flesh hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and forcing your arm away from the door. He doesn’t let go of your wrist this time.
         “You’re not sleeping with him.” He says firmly. You look down at where he’s gripping your wrist before looking back up at him, narrowing your eyes once more.
         “Why the hell do you think you get a vote?”
         “I’m not voting, I’m vetoing it. You’re drunk.”
         “I don’t need you to protect me, Barnes. Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of my damn self.” You snatch your hand away from him, thinking he’ll release his grip when you do, but he only tightens it and uses the leverage to pull you against him. Your chest crashes against his and you can feel his breath fan across your face. He smells like whiskey and light cologne, and his body heat emanates through his thin button-up shirt. A few less-than-holy thoughts speed through your mind. For a second, you worry he might be able to read your partially drunken thoughts with his intense stare. Bucky’s jaw clenches and he fights the urge to shove you against the wall and fuck you right here.
         “Then go home and take care of yourself instead of letting that jackass do it for you.”
         Did Bucky really just tell you to go home and get yourself off? You’re ninety-percent sure that that’s what he just alluded to. Okay, eighty-five percent sure since you’re not quite all there due to the obscene amount of alcohol you’ve consumed over the past hour. You feel a wave of heat spreading through your entire body, lighting your skin on fire. The point where Bucky’s hand is clasped around your wrist is especially on fire. You inhale a shaky breath, calming yourself down and trying to command your body to cooperate with you and cool down. Bucky smirks as he watches your attempt to gather yourself.
         “I got all dressed up and drunk for sex, Barnes. I’m not letting my effort go to waste.” Bucky’s eyes are saying so many things at once, but you can’t figure out a damn word of it in your current state. All you can think about is him pressing you up against the wall right now. Maybe he’d be a little pliant since he’s also downed a good amount of whiskey tonight, and since he clearly suddenly thinks that he has a say in your sex life. You feel your drunken confidence, your alter ego, coming out to play. You smile now, pressing your lips together and softening your gaze as you drink in the sight of his steely gaze and unreadable expression. “If I can’t have sex with Thor, are you going to tell me who I can have sex with tonight?” Your words take him by surprise and he recoils, dropping your wrist and stepping back. You feel powerful now, making him step away with only your words.
                  “You really should just go home, sleep it off.” He says, trying once again to steer you in a safe direction. It’s not so much that he’s trying to steer you in a safe direction, but more that he’s trying to keep himself from having a reason to pick a fight with Thor. He doesn’t want his hands on you. He’s not letting it happen.
         “I am so fucking tired of you always trying to protect me. What happened to the introverted ass who lived across the hall and skulked around the tower? He was way more bearable.”
         “You like me way more now.” He states, narrowing his eyes at you. You shake your head quickly.
         “You’re still an ass, but now you’re all confident and you know you’re hot and it’s unbearable.” You feel the regret as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn’t mean to say the part about him being hot. 
“You think I’m hot?” He asks. He’s intrigued now, that cocky smirk once again gracing his face. You shrug your shoulders, reaching for the door again. He lets you grab the handle this time but he places a strong, firm hand against the door, at the height of your face, stopping you from opening it. He steps in close, his chest nearly brushing against your right arm and side as he leans down to your ear. “Answer the question.” A chill races down your spine, forcing you to close your eyes and draw in a deep, calming breath. Why is he being so damn authoritative all of a sudden?
         “I’m drunk.”
         “Which just means that you have no filter. So, answer the question.” He keeps his hand firmly planted against the door and you know he won’t let you out of here until he gets his answer.
         “Yes.” You answer as nonchalantly as possible, turning your head to him. You’re a mere inch apart now, his lips hovering so teasingly in front of yours and his eyes staring into your soul.
         “You’re not leaving with him.” He states. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip and narrowly missing yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, especially his bottom lip that’s now moistened right in front of you.
         “You can’t tell me what to do.” You slur your words, pushing your hands against his chest and forcing him back a couple of small steps. You march yourself out of the closet now, leaving him behind, but your mind still seems to be stuck on the image of his lips. You should’ve just kissed him. Who could have blamed you if you did kiss him? Asgardian liquor gives everything such a sexual energy for some reason.
         Bucky can’t stop himself from keeping a watchful eye on you for the rest of the party. After you got away from him, you headed off to dance and drink even more with Sharon. As long as you don’t sneak off to wherever Thor went, he really doesn’t give a shit what you do. Or maybe he does. He isn’t quite sure why he suddenly gives a shit. Why were you so set on having sex with someone tonight? And why did it seem like you didn’t even care who it was going to be? That doesn’t seem like you at all, having a meaningless one-night stand with whoever happens to be up for one.
         Bucky’s mind keeps mulling over the fact that you practically called him hot. Well, you said yes when he asked if you thought he was hot.  Maybe you’re more bold and honest when you’re drunk. Or maybe you’re just a liar when you’re drunk. Either way, Bucky can’t get it out of his head.
         “Yo, cyborg, you in there?” Sam waves his arm in the air, drawing Bucky’s attention out of his thoughts and back to the present conversation.
         “What?”
         “Which one of us is going to offer the girls a ride home? They’re both way too drunk to drive.” Sam asks. Bucky scoffs. Like you’ll accept a ride from either one of them with how independent you try to be and how especially stubborn you’re already being tonight. Sam distracted Bucky just for a moment, so he didn’t notice you and Sharon heading over to join the group in the sitting area of the lavish room.
         As they round the side of the couch, Sharon takes the only space on the couch between Sam and Clint, leaving you to stand beside the couch, steadying yourself on the arm of it.
         “We were just talking about you two.” Sam says to you both with a grin, glancing at Sharon first and then up at you. Bucky notices you trying a little too hard to remain in a steady and upright position, but he knows if he stands up and offers you his chair, you’ll absolutely refuse to take it.
         “Are you going back to the tower tonight, Y/n?” Clint wonders aloud, focusing his eyes on you. Bucky can tell that Clint also notices your unusual difficulty with balance, but he doesn’t seem very concerned. Clint’s seen her drunk before, so he’s actually used to this side of you. You laugh and shake your head, your curls softer and looser than when Bucky first saw you a little while ago.
         “No way, I’m staying with Sharon tonight.” You answer. You looks down at her feet for a brief second and Bucky can tell it’s because your heels are hurting your feet, but you’re not the kind of girl to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot in public.
         “Come on, you can’t both be on your own this drunk.” Clint argues, looking to Bucky and Sam for support. Sam catches his drift and takes on a slightly more serious expression before looking up at you. You shake your head once again, rolling your eyes before turning your head and narrowing them at Bucky.
         “I wouldn’t even be going home with Sharon if Sergeant Barnes over here hadn’t made me miss my chance with someone.” You say coldly, your eyes once again shooting daggers at Bucky. Sam and Clint turn their attention to Bucky now, and Sharon lets out a hearty laugh.
         “Yeah, I heard you vetoed her potential one-night stand.” Sharon’s voice is full of amusement.
         “I did you a favor.” Bucky scoffs, returning your hard stare with one of his own. You saunter over to him now, maintaining your balance well enough to seat your pretty little ass on the arm of the chair he’s in. You cross your legs at the knee, causing your already short dress to ride even further up your thighs. Bucky’s vibranium hand that rests on the arm of the chair is only inches behind your ass. He forces himself to look past you, at Sam, who is clearly very entertained by this whole situation.
         “Sam, is cockblocking ever a favor?” You ask, seeking validation for your little tantrum over Bucky stopping you from leaving with Thor. Sam shakes his head, looking up at you with a joking frown.
         “Never. Friends don’t stop friends from getting theirs.” Sam answers, shooting Bucky another look. He’s implying to Bucky that you and him must not simply be friends if he stopped you from sleeping with Thor tonight. You clap your hands together once before pushing yourself off of his chair and taking two steps toward the couch, you turn yourself effortlessly and take a seat on Sam’s right knee, which doesn’t even seem to faze him. Bucky watches as Sam places a hand on your back to keep you steadied there. His jaw clenches and his vibranium hand coils into a fist.
         “See, Bucky, you’ll have to make it up to me.” Your tone can only be described as flirty and suggestive, but only Sam and Bucky seem to pick up on it. Sam raises an eyebrow at the seething super soldier, awaiting his response. He cocks his head to the side, thinking of a way to play this smart.
         “Next time Fury pits us against each other in training…” Bucky starts, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees before continuing. “I’ll let you win.”
         “No thanks, I kicked your ass last time. I don’t need you to let me win.” You narrow your eyes at him once again, before turning to Sam, Sharon, and Clint. “Sam remembers that, right Sam?” Sam nods vigorously, a smile creeping across his face as the memory plays through his head.
         “I would’ve loved to have seen it.” Sharon pipes up, leaning against Sam’s shoulder now. Damn, he’s looking like he’s such a ladies’ man tonight. Bucky considers taking a picture for him so the memory lasts. Wanda and Vision join the group, Wanda perching herself on the armrest next to Clint’s side of the couch and Vision standing beside her, keeping a hand on her back. “Oh, I have the best idea.” Sharon suddenly sounds like a child, and she’s clearly about to say something ridiculously stupid. “We should play truth or dare.”
---
                  “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this the fair way.” Sam asserts. Clint quickly took his leave before the game was agreed upon, claiming that it was already way past his bedtime and he had to check in with his wife and kids over the phone before they all fall asleep. Wanda and Vision filled his vacant spot on the couch.
You feel the effects of the alcohol that you consumed earlier slowly making its way through your system and losing its potency as it’s metabolized. You still feel a good bit of drunkenness from the Asgardian liquor, and you really wonder how long that will take to clear your system. “We alternate between truth and dare, spinning the bottle to pick who takes the turn.” Sam places an empty beer bottle on the coffee table before us all, his hand briefly leaving your back when he leans forward to do so. As he rests back against the couch again, his hand finds its way to your middle back again. Sitting on his knee like this is starting to make it feel like your ass is falling asleep, and if your ass is falling asleep then your legs won’t be far behind.
         “Truth.” Sharon calls out for the first turn, reaching out to spin the bottle and get the game going. You stand up from Sam’s knee and switch to sitting on the floor on your knees. Your dress is sitting dangerously high on your thighs now. You glance around the circle at everyone. Sam, Sharon, Wanda, Vision, and Torres, who joined when Clint left, all keep their eyes trained on the spinning bottle. Bucky, however, is looking right at you. He probably wishes you would’ve gone home and taken care of yourself like he told you to earlier. What a jackass. The bottle slows to a stop, the lip of it pointing at Wanda. “Wanda!” Sharon yells out, excited by her first victim. “Does Vision have a dick?” The question sends the group into an uproar, but Wanda only laughs.
         “Yes.” She answers, keeping it short and simple.
         “Are follow-up questions allowed?” Sharon quickly asks, turning to look at Sam.
         “Only if the bottle lands on that person again and it’s a turn for truth.” He clarifies. Sharon scoffs, rolling her eyes.
         “That’s no fun at all.” She complains. You watch as Wanda leans into Vision’s ear and whispers something, something that makes him smile and nuzzle against her cheek ever so slightly. God, they’re sickeningly adorable. Wanda breaks away from him for a moment to spin the bottle, calling out dare as it begins to spin. Of course, it lands on you.
         “Wanda, we’re friends.” You remind her. You doubt she would make you do anything too crazy, knowing her, but if she’s been drinking and isn’t her normal self tonight, she might be a little adventurous. Mischief gleams behind her eyes and you know you’re in trouble. This game is starting to feel a bit sobering.
         “I dare you to sit on Bucky’s lap for the rest of the game.”
         “Wanda!” You yell out, an annoyed tone to your voice and a glare painted across your face. “That has to be against the rules. What if he doesn’t want to participate?” You try to talk your way out of it, looking to Sam now since he seems to be in charge of the rules here. He thinks for a second, looking at you and then up at Bucky. Bucky’s expression is stoic, as unreadable as ever as he stares back at Sam.
         “I’ll allow it.” Sam decides, smirking at Bucky. You groan, pushing yourself up from the floor but refusing to make eye contact with Bucky. You move a few steps toward him and sit on his knee, just like you sat on Sam’s earlier.
         “Oh, no. That’s not his lap.” Wanda points out, waving her hand at you, gesturing for you to move in closer to his body.
         “Fuck you, Wanda.” You say evenly, before fully sitting on Bucky’s lap as he straightens up in the chair a bit. You’re basically sitting right on his crotch, and slightly to his left so his vibranium arm is sitting on the armrest behind your back. You feel him take a deep breath and his exhale fans across your right arm. You avoid turning to look at him. The more you think about it, you’re still really annoyed that he felt like he could tell you not to sleep with someone tonight. You’re even more annoyed with yourself for listening. You should have just kept your original plan and left with Thor. You offer Wanda one last glare, making her laugh and lean closer into Vision. She mouths the words get over it before drawing a heart in the air with her fingers, her way of apologizing to you and saying it isn’t that serious. You know it’s not that serious but you also know what she’s doing. She thinks if you’d just hook up with him once, Bucky and you would get rid of whatever tension is between you and you could be regular partners in the field, as casual and unproblematic as when you work with Clint or Sam. But this isn’t some movie where the two main characters fuck their feelings away and stay friends in the end, hell, there aren’t even any feelings to fuck away here. You’re still barely even friends. You just work together.
         You lean forward in Bucky’s lap, away from his body, and spin the bottle, calling out truth before leaning back again. You lean a little too far back, your balance still not perfect due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. The exposed skin of your back in your low-cut dress brushes against his left chest and vibranium arm and his cold metal hand quickly slips behind you, resting on the skin of your back and steadying you. He clearly doesn’t want you sitting any closer than you have to for this dare. Once you’re steady, you expect him to put his hand back on the armrest of the chair, but he doesn’t. He keeps it firmly planted on your back, his vibranium fingers reflecting your body heat and warming up ever-so-slightly. You find the touch comforting and you feel yourself relaxing a little bit. This definitely beats sitting on the floor.
         “Sharon!” Sam hollers, tapping her knee that’s closest to him on the couch and then clapping his hands excitedly. “This is going to be good. What do you want to know about her, Y/n?” The bottle points straight at her, and she seems more than ready for whatever you might ask. You think for a moment, with everyone’s attention focused on you, expecting you to come up with something good.
         “Was Steve a good kisser?” Bucky lets out a quiet, low chuckle at your question. You can tell he’s trying to seem like he’s not overly enjoying this game, but you know he’s getting at least a little kick out of it. His hand is still on your back and you don’t think he plans to move it anytime soon. You focus on it a little too much, noticing the way his pinky finger rests lightly just an inch above your ass.
         “Yeah, he knew what he was doing, that’s for sure. You never would’ve known he hadn’t had any real practice in the last few decades.” She admits. She’s not even trying to hide her smile as the memory of Steve comes to the forefront of her mind. “You know how sometimes guys either do too much with their tongue, or not enough?” You and Wanda both nod, while the four men in the group look on at you, obviously intrigued by the topic. “He did exactly enough.”
         “Wow, who taught him the half-tongue rule?” Wanda questions jokingly.
         “The half-tongue rule?” Torres sounds genuinely curious. He can be so adorable sometimes, so clueless for someone so unbelievably smart.
         “For a good makeout session, you should never put more than half of your tongue in the other person’s mouth.” Sharon explains. Torres nods as she explains, as if he’s absorbing the information and storing it for later use. “Okay, this one is going to be good.” Sharon announces, her eyes darting around the group for her next victim as she sends the bottle into a rotation. You get distracted for a moment when Bucky’s vibranium thumb rubs a small circle against your lower back, so softly that you question if it’s even happening.
         “White Wolf…” Sharon tsks. A look that you can only describe as evil takes over her features and she grins as she stares Bucky down. You didn’t notice that the bottle landed on him at first. He continues rubbing those small circles with his thumb and you’re really wondering what the hell he’s doing, but you don’t want to draw attention to it. “I dare you to demonstrate the half-tongue rule with your partner there.” Sharon points right at me. You swallow hard and shake your head, but you can feel Bucky’s lack of any reaction behind you. He doesn’t so much as take a deep breath or shift in his seat at the threat of the dare.
         “Wait, what are the stakes if they don’t?” Vision asks, looking around the group for an answer.
         “You have to answer three truths in a row, hard ones.” Sharon decides, looking to Sam for approval and he nods quickly. You see him shoot Bucky a look, you can’t tell what it is but it’s insinuating something. He knows Bucky would refuse to answer three hard questions about himself, so it’s way less likely that he’ll refuse a dare.
         “And what if the person the dare involves refuses to participate?” Wanda asks, smiling at you with fake sweetness. You see what she’s doing and you’re mentally kicking her for it. She wants to know what punishment you’ll face if you refuse to let Bucky complete this dare with you.
         “Same thing, I guess.” Sam answers quickly. You don’t have a problem with answering truths, but with the direction Sharon and Wanda have been taking this game, it might be a dangerous thing to get yourself into. Who knows what they would ask at this point?
         “So? Are you guys going to demonstrate the half-tongue rule or can we ask you both three questions?” Sharon prompts, her eyes flitting between you both. You finally turn and look at Bucky, but as your ass moves against his lap slightly, he presses his vibranium hand flat against your lower back, attempting to still you. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours to see what your answer will be.
         “Come on, we’ve all seen you kiss on undercover ops before, it’s just like that.” Wanda chimes in, trying to get the group what they want. You tune her out, waiting for Bucky to speak up and say he won’t do it, that this is childish and silly and you’re all adults. You know you’re in trouble when he cocks his head to the right and his lips curl into that smirk that you’ve grown so used to seeing on him.
         “Why aren’t you backing down from this?” You ask quietly so only he can hear you. Everyone is staring at you, anticipating either a kiss or a white flag of surrender.
         “Why aren’t you?” He licks his bottom lip and for the second time tonight, you think about how much you want that lip pressed between your own. Fuck Thor for giving you that drink.
         You honestly couldn’t say who started it. You couldn’t say how long it lasted. But when you leaned into him and his left hand found it’s place on your hip while his right snaked up to your hair and pulled your face against his, you were lost in the moment. His lips moved against yours like it was a dance, something spontaneous and straight out of a movie, your heads tilting in opposite directions to give each other exactly enough leverage and access. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips and grant access. You hesitated, just for a second, but he noticed it and tugged on your hair, making you open your mouth just slightly, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and caress your own. Fuck, he tasted so good, like whiskey and lust and everything you wore this dress for tonight. Your entire body feels like it’s sparking with electricity everywhere that he’s touching you, where your ass is against his lap, where his hand is on your hip, where his hand is tangled in your hair. You sit now, still in the position you just kissed in, but with only your foreheads pressed together, your mouths inhaling and exhaling within an inch each other. He's probably breathing heavy from the effort and lack of air but you’re breathing heavy from the fucking horny tailspin he’s just sent your body into. It’s taking everything in you not to ask him for more.
         “Holy shit, that was porn.” Torres says, sounding both impressed and surprised.
         “How do two people who barely get along kiss each other like that?” Sam demands to know, and you can feel his stare boring into the back of your head.
         “You remember what we all do for a living, right Sam?” You ask, pulling away from Bucky’s embrace and turning back around to face the rest of the group. You get more comfortable now, leaning against Bucky as he stretches his arms out on both of the armrests and sinks into the chair a bit. You’re both more at ease now, as if the kiss melted away some of the tension. The group raves over the kiss, and what they think was chemistry, rather than simply two experienced operatives who happen to be good kissers being forced into a situation together. Bucky, ready for the moment to be over with, grabs your left hip with his vibranium hand to hold you steady as he leans forward and spins the bottle. The shift in position reveals something, or more makes you feel something. His hard cock pressing against your right thigh. You turn your head to look down at him as he’s leaning back in the chair again and he makes eye contact with you, his smirk from earlier gone and his expression once again one of indifference. God, he’s really fucking good at acting like nothing fazes him.
         “Sam, tell us about your last date.” Bucky says, his eyes still locked on yours. He must’ve seen the bottle spin to a stop in his peripheral vision. As Sam reluctantly begins to tell his tale, capturing everyone’s attention but yours and Bucky’s, you turn to the group once more and lean against Bucky again.
         “Something in your pocket?” You question jokingly under your breath, still feeling his boner present underneath you.
         “Stop talking.” He responds just as quietly, his tone sending a chill through your body. Why is it so fucking hot when he talks to you like that? It should infuriate you, the way he warns you and acts so demanding and in charge. Instead, all you can think about is him talking to you like that in bed. You swear, after tonight, you’ll never touch Asgardian liquor again.
         The game continued on for another half an hour before the party began dwindling down until only about twenty or so guests were left. You still sit comfortably on Bucky’s lap, his dick as hard as it was when you kissed earlier, and yourself no less inebriated than you were then.
         You shift on his lap, a little worried that you might be putting his left leg to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hands on both of your hips, gripping you tightly and stilling you instantly. The room is still fairly dark and noisy with the music and drunken conversations that are being held all around, so you doubt anyone will notice his sudden shift in position.
         “Don’t move.” He groans lowly in your ear, leaning forward so his chest presses firmly against your back. You stiffen against him, your eyes closing for a second as his voice and touch once again send your senses into overdrive. The game ended five minutes ago, so you should really get off of his lap now. Your phone, which currently sits on the coffee table in front of you vibrates and as Bucky sits back in the chair again, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You know he heard your phone vibrate, so hopefully he doesn’t mind you leaning forward to grab it.
Sharon: Are you staying with me tonight or going back to the tower?
         “You’re staying in the tower.” Bucky says, clearly reading the message over your shoulder. You push yourself out of his lap now, turning around to face him as he adjusts his suit pants and sits up a little straighter to hide the situation going on in his pants.
         “That’s the second time tonight that you’ve tried to make decisions for me.” You point out, staring down at him. Really, who does he think he is? He’s always seemed overly confident to you, but trying to tell you who you can’t sleep with and now where you’re spending your night? He’s crossing lines left and right. You watch him carefully from a short distance as his gaze follows Sam and Sharon, who are saying goodbye to a few friends near the elevator. Sam offered to drive Sharon home, since she definitely can’t be trusted to get herself there safely.
         “You listened to me the first time.” Bucky says confidently, shifting his gaze back to you now, but keeping a serious expression on his face rather than the playful, cocky one that you know so well on him.
         “Did I? Because I remember you telling me to go home and take care of myself, and I haven’t done that.” You glance down at your phone to text Sharon back while you wait for whatever smart ass reply Bucky is going to spew out next. You’re just about to text her and say that you’d love to have a sleepover when you hear Bucky’s low, sure-of-himself laugh. You look at him once more, your thumbs hovering over your phone screen. The way he looks in that chair, with that fucking smirk slowly taking over his features, makes you rethink what you were about to say to Sharon.
         “Yet.”
---
         Everything smells like him. And why wouldn’t it? You’re in his room, lying on his bed, with him standing just a few feet from the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body. You still have your dress on but you feel naked in front of him like this.
         “Are you getting shy on me now?” Bucky taunts, mischief gleaming behind his eyes as he takes in your timid expression and flushed cheeks. Sam chose to drive Sharon all the way back to her apartment across town, while Bucky quickly stepped up to give you a ride back to the tower. Somehow, along the way, the truth or dare game continued until you ended up accepting a dare to do exactly what Bucky said, to go home and take care of yourself. However, the dare came with a new stipulation: you had to take care of yourself while he watched.
         “Yeah, I’m shy.” You respond sarcastically, pushing yourself off of his bed and trekking across the room to stand immediately in front of him. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he hopes the stance hides the racing of his heart from you. The stance most definitely doesn’t hide the raging boner straining against the front of his dress pants though. There probably isn’t a pair of pants in the world that could hide something so prominent. You stand close to Bucky, breathing in his intoxicating scent for a moment before closing your eyes and letting a serene smile cross your lips.
         Bucky stands frozen when you begin slipping the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The muscle along the side of his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together when you reach back and easily unzip your dress. And when you finally let the small piece of burgundy fabric fall the the floor? Hell, he’s done for.
         You open your eyes once you’re fully exposed to him, peering up at him with the most innocent look you can muster.
         “Fuck this.” Bucky grumbles, losing every ounce of self-control he was harnessing as his hands grasp the sides of your face and he kisses you with so much desperation that you feel something awaken inside you. He uses the same move from earlier, tugging on the hair at the nape of your neck to get you to part your lips enough for him to taste your mouth. Fuck, you taste like his favorite whiskey. Your body moves on auto-pilot as Bucky walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. With a less-than-gentle shove, Bucky sends you falling onto his bed. His hungry eyes travel all over your skin, over the perfect peaks of your breasts, the smooth skin along your abdomen that leads him straight down to what he needs most right now. Your cunt.
         The way he’s looking at you can only be described in one way: animalistic. You’re sure he’s going to be back on top of you within seconds, but no, this fucking man sinks to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. He effortlessly lifts your legs over his shoulders, and then leans into you, kissing your clit so softly that you whimper.  With all of the tension between the two of you tonight, you wouldn’t have expected him to be so gentle.
         “You taste so fucking good.” Bucky groans against your folds, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all the way down until he reaches your entrance. That’s when he stops being so gentle. That’s when he steals a glance at you, taking in the way your chest heaves with arousal and the way your hands are already gripping his bedsheets. That’s when he can’t stop himself from plunging two thick fingers into you and curling them, letting his fingertips drag against the walls of your pussy.
         “Bucky!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed and thighs shaking over his shoulders.
         “You could’ve taken care of yourself.” He reminds you, setting a relentless pace with his hand. He fucks those two fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Every move he makes ignites your nerve endings more and more, until your nervous system is nearing a damn firework show. “You could’ve laid here and gotten yourself off for me.”
         The moans and curses falling from your lips are nothing short of sinful, and every sound sends another rush of blood straight to Bucky’s already-hard cock.
         “You’re so fucking stubborn. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to end up in my bed tonight.” His voice is dripping with lust and you can almost hear the smirk that’s surely painted across his face as you come undone at his hands.
         “Bucky…” You can’t say a damn thing except for his name. Even as he finger fucks you straight through your orgasm, and starts slowing down his movements, you can’t form a single word in your mind.
         “Look at you.” Bucky coos, sliding his fingers out of your pussy one last time. You’re lying there so still with your eyes still scrunched closed. You completely miss the way Bucky closes his own eyes as his sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. He knows he should’ve held you to the dare and made you get yourself off. He never should’ve tasted you. He never should’ve felt how tight and wet your pussy is for him.
Now that he knows how sweet you taste, how nicely your pussy would fit around his cock, how fucking perfect you sound when you’re cumming for him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let you leave his room. 
TAG LIST:
@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13
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minkiverse · 10 days
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POLY!ATEEZ FIC RECS PART 1
Part 2 - Hongjoong - Seonghwa - Yunho - Yeosang - San - Mingi - Wooyoung - Jongho
A collection of Ateez fics that I think everyone should know about!!! This has been QUITE the project, but I'm so happy to have done it. Unfortunately not all my recs could fit on one post so there will be at least one other part to this list, as well as individual member lists. (i really thought i could fit them all on one post lmaooo) I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!
DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please review all warnings before reading!!!
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Key:
✨ - My Favs
🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)
⛈️ - Angst
💗 - Fluff
🍑 - Humor
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POLY!ATEEZ
Sway With Me - @luvt0kki 🔥⛈️ Sci-fi ✧ Ongoing
the world 🤌 the story 🤌 the SMUT 🤌🤌🤌 but truly this fic is such a fun take on a sci-fi adventure. im already obsessed with the mc, AND HER AND WOO'S CHEMISTRY?!?! off the charts sooooo good like 👏👏👏 the interlude has me a tiny bit nervous because now i know how well this author writes angst and yeah its gonna be a doozy 😩😩
Wonderwall - @atzfilm ✨🔥⛈️ Yandere ✧ Faerie AU ✧ Ongoing
i realized pretty quickly that yandere is much more popular in this fandom than in previous ones i've been in, so i never really read any. HOWEVER, i get it now i do lmao. this was the first one i read, and i was HOOKED like i couldn't stop reading! the story just like took over my brain, and i am thinking why am i sympathizing with the guys BUT I AM BECAUSE THEY ARE COMPLEX AND SO INTERESTING AND WELL WRITTEN!!!!! its hard to put into words how much i love this series
The Answer - @berryunho ✨🔥⛈️ Cult AU ✧ Ongoing
i genuinely don't think i've ever read a fic like this, and i mean that in literally the best way possible. i was STRESSED reading this like there are so many scenes that make me question everything, but like there is no one to trust about what is actually happening. idk if i'm making sense but this fic just needs to be read to understand the legit anxiety it gives me in certain chapters lmaooo😭😭
Deep Down - @seventhcallisto 🔥⛈️💗 ABO AU ✧ 9th Member AU ✧ Ongoing
this is just self indulgent fun AND THAT PEOPLE IS WHAT FANFICTION IS MEANT TO BE!!! like im just kicking my feet reading about this 9th member ateez finding out she's an omega!~ i'm having the TIME OF MY LIFE!
Into the Aurora - @honeyhotteoks ✨🔥⛈️💗 Idol AU ✧ Complete
this soooo quickly became my main comfort fic for ateez! like i have reread this TOO many times. sometimes i'll just revisit specific chapters, but i know the exact chapter number.... is that concerning? lmaooo~ but truly this is more than just a you date every member of ateez fic (WHICH ARE GREAT DONT GET IT TWISTED!!) but the more we learn of the mc the more i adore her and her relationship with the boys!! it's just a must read ok 👏👏
Inception - @remedyx ✨🔥⛈️💗 Dragon!Teez ✧ Royalty AU ✧ Ongoing
my brain is still stuck in this world tbh, like its maybe a bit embarrassing how many times i look at the map and moodboards and just vibe and think about this fic lmaoo! but honestly the world building is so thoughtful and its so easy to just immerse yourself in it which is amazing!!!!!!!
Dragon from the Window - @thelargefrye ✨🔥⛈️💗 Dragon!Teez ✧ Fantasy AU ✧ Ongoing
this collection of one shots, drabbles, headcanons, and world building i went through SO QUICKLY I WAS IMMEDIATLY OBSESSED. i am so genuinely invested in this story and how each member react to their connection with the mc!!!! ALSO the mc is a witch SO BIG BONUS POINTS!!!!~
like the moon - @sunmoonjune ✨⛈️💗 Warrior AU ✧ Clan Systems ✧ Ongoing
try not to cry challenge - FAILED, MULTIPLE TIMES 😭😭 this is major hurt/comfort, but its truly such a beautiful story!! i would do anything ANYTHING for gray!!!!! all of them deserve the absolute best in the world and i just adore them so much 🥹🥹🥹
Morning Mist - @mint-yooxgi ⛈️💗 Dragon!Teez ✧ Yandere ✧ Ongoing
another story with an mc that is just 🤌🤌🤌 like she is so badass i'm in love but also scared lmao,, but i think if you are new to yandere, this is a good starting point! like yes they are obsessed but not like terrifyingly so if that makes sense~
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MULTIPLE MEMBERS
This Night Together - @honeyhotteoks ✨🔥⛈️💗 Yunho x Reader x Mingi ✧ ABO ✧ Ongoing
listen i'm a bit of a slut for ABO fics and this one!!!! THIS ONE IS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!!!!!!! im like just in love with all of them not just yungi n reader but EVERYONE (except u minseok u bitch) like not only is the main plot so good but the side plots for the other members is just incredible,, i just love this story too ok if you see this author know that every fic they write is going to be a comfort fic for me 🥹🥹
Project Omen - @atzfilm 🔥⛈️ Hongjoong x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ Hybrid AU ✧ One Shot
Bouncy - @hongism 🔥Yunho x Reader x Jongho ✧ Mechanic AU ✧ One Shot
splish splash - @atozfic 🔥San x Seonghwa x Wooyoung x Yunho x Reader ✧ Swimmer AU ✧ One Shot
sharing is caring? - @byuntrash101 🔥Hongjoong x Reader x Mingi ✧ Idol AU ✧ One Shot
Untitled - @orgverse 🔥Seonghwa x Reader x San ✧ Idol AU ✧ One Shot
Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ One Shot
Threesome with Yungi with woosan watching - @k-hotchoisan 🔥Yunho x Reader x Mingi (San and Wooyoung) ✧ One Shot
one more rep - @cheollipop 🔥San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ Personal Trainer AU ✧ One Shot
blue bird - @seonghwaddict 🔥💗San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ Mafia AU ✧ One Shot
What's the Time, Mr. Wolf - @starlitmark 🔥Yunho x Reader x Mingi ✧ Hybrid AU ✧ One Shot
the good friend + the better friend - @byuntrash101 ✨🔥San x Reader x Mingi ✧ Idol AU ✧ Two Shot
as a sangi bias this fic changed my life maybe?!! the smut is just toe curling ESPECIALLY PART TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!! literally i could drool just thinking about this fic 🤤🤤 i need this to be my reality ASAP
Untitled - @ja3hwa 🔥Seonghwa x Yunho x Mingi x Reader ✧ Business (?) AU ✧ One Shot
knockout - @igbylicious 🔥San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ Boxer AU ✧ One Shot
Untitled - @sanspuppet 🔥Hongjoong x Reader x Seonghwa ✧ One Shot
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥San x Reader x Mingi ✧ One Shot
Time of Love - @desayunho ⛈️💗 San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ SMAU ✧ Complete
compromise - @cyberpxnk 🔥⛈️ Seonghwa x Reader x Yunho ✧ College AU ✧ Soccer AU ✧ One Shot
Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ One Shot
cheerleader - @byuntrash101 🔥Seonghwa x Yunho x San x Ming x Reader ✧ One Shot
from eden + Pt. 2 - @atzfilm 🔥⛈️ Seonghwa x Reader x Yeosang ✧ Vampire AU ✧ Two Shot
whichever way - @igbylicious 🔥💗 San x Reader x Wooyoung ✧ Neighbors AU ✧ Ongoing
Under the Comforter - @thelargefrye 🔥Seonghwa x Reader x San ✧ Idol AU ✧ One Shot
Double Trouble - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Wooyoung x Reader x Jongho ✧ Hybrid AU ✧ One Shot
What Should We Become? - @sluttywoozi 🔥💗 Yeosang x Reader x San ✧ One Shot
like a dream - @cheollipop ✨🔥💗 Yunho x Reader x Mingi ✧ One Shot
this is like so incredibly hot, literally all i need in life is to be in between these two men 😩😩😩 but it is also so sweet and both boys are so doting to the mc and the end!!!!!!!!!! so loving and cute and aaaaaaaaaaaa 😭😭😭
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SCENARIOS/TEXTS/HEADCANONS
ateez as royals who fall for you (hyungs, maknaes) - @eightmakesonebraincell 🔥⛈️💗 Royalty AU ✧ Scenarios
subby ateez - @seventhcallisto 🔥Headcanons
Ateez cumming too soon - @sluttywonwoo 🔥Headcanons
soft cuddles with ateez - @beenbaanbuun 💗 Scenarios
first kiss with ateez - @beenbaanbuun 💗 Scenarios
Ateez and pussy slapping - @kitten4sannie 🔥Scenarios
Bedroom Mishaps (hyungs, maknaes) - @seohwang 🔥💗 Scenarios
Ateez 'n free use - @seventhcallisto 🔥 Scenarios
Cupping their Cheeks - @yeorisanaxox 💗 Scenarios
Ateez as Exes + Pt. 2 - @kisshwa 🍑 Texts
Friends to Lovers Headcanons - @kpopnstarwars 💗 Scenario
boyfriend!ateez discovering you write smut - @eightmakesonebraincell 🍑 Texts
Ateez being overstimulated (hyungs, maknaes) - @ateezscupid ✨🔥 Scenarios
listen i just like sub!ateez a lot 😭😭 but like these are such a go too for me when i NEED some dom!reader content like it is so cute/hot/toe curlingly delicious 🤤🤤🤤
mtl of who would like choking - @sxcret-garden 🔥 Headcanons
texts when they think you’re asleep - @beenbaanbuun 💗🍑 Texts
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bvnnywrites · 7 months
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Still Waters Run Deep
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Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye
PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-
WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking
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WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.
A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.
The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.
König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.
And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.
He relished in it.
And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.
Destructive.
All-devouring force.
Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.
His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.
However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.
And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.
It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.
As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.
Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.
She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”
“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”
“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”
Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.
But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.
Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back? 
Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp. 
The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.
Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks. 
You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.
You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man. 
Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.
However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.
"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree." 
"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."
"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."
You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.
"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.
"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"
“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”
You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.
"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."
The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic. 
You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. 
All of you got along. 
Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.
And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day. 
A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.
Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke. 
Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.
You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point. 
Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.
"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."
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“Did you hear what happened?”
“What?”
“Another soldier went missing again.”
Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.
No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.
The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.
Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.
In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.
Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.
Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.
The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.
Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.
“Who was it?” You dared to ask.
Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”
Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.
“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”
“That’s what I’m thinking too.”
Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.
“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”
“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.
“Exactly.”
You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…
Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.
It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.
Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.
That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.
But could you even blame them?
They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.
So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.
Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.
Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.
The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.
“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.
“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”
“Why him?”
“He’s too violent.”
“Aren’t we all?”
Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.
The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.
The atmosphere had gone heavy.
It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.
You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.
Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.
“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.
Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”
“I doubt he exists.”
“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”
“What did you pray for?”
Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”
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“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”
A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.
König.
You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.
“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”
“Oh.”
Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.
HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.
So, why now?
“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.
“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”
His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.
“So, why do we need to go to your office?”
But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.
“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”
“Are you always so noisy?”
You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.
He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.
“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”
“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”
You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.
You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.
The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.
He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.
Where he can have you all to himself.
But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.
He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.
 König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable­—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.
König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.
“C-colonel, we’re here.”
You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.
No.
That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.
“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”
You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.
The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–
Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.
Not in a fight, of course.
“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”
He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.
“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”
“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”
“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”
König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.
The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.
Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.
At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.
“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.
“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.
His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.
“I’m sorry.” You say again.
The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–
“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”
You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?
His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.
“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”
You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.
“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”
“Yes, sir.”
The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.
König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.
“Are you married, Schatz?”
“No, sir.”
“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”
“Why aren’t you?”
Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world.  Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–
The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.
“What gave it away, Schatz?”
Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.
“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”
“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”
He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.
“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”
His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.
“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”
“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”
Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.
“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.
“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”
König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.
“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."
“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”
“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”
His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.
 My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”
“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”
You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.
How did it get to this?
How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.
“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”
“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”
“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”
König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.
He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.
“Was it offensive… sir?”
“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”
König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.
His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask. 
He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.
And lonely.
And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.
König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.          
He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.
He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.
“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”
“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.
The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.
“I’d say you’re beautiful.”
Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.
“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”
He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.
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uranometrias · 22 days
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✮ꜜ : ❛ guilt's a motherfucker : spencer reid x fem! reader
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pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader
summary: denial was an art, especially in a field like the one that you worked in. as a profiler, it was almost impossible for anyone to pull the wool over your eyes. you'd spent enough time with your team to know that this gift, this specific sort of perception was not something you were immune to either. meaning, no matter how much you tried to keep things a secret, someone on your team was bound to read right through you. especially spencer. 🔱 ━━ alternatively: the one where your inability to say what you want leads spencer to accept the affections of someone else.
content warnings: i think this could be considered angst . spencer reid having a crush on reader. reader being jealous of spencer getting attention from someone else. cute friendship between derek+ emily + reader. reader is the youngest on the team. set in s6, pre- jj’s departure.
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“You doing alright, babygirl?” Derek’s voice isn’t hard to miss, and the obvious smugness that was attached made your eyes roll. You knew from the moment that you’d leaned forward in your chair, lips pulling down into a deep pout that someone would clock you and quite quickly put two and two together. You didn’t mean to be obvious, in fact, usually you did a much better job at keeping your cool. However, there was something glaringly different today.
Spencer had gone for a new look, you remembered the day he walked in with his hair freshly cropped, shoulder-length tresses replaced with what Hotch had affectionately referred to as "boy band" hair. The rest of the team had laughed, you'd even cutely hid your own snicker behind your hand, but you couldn't deny that it fit him. It was flattering, dare you say cute as hell. In the weeks that followed though, he'd went even shorter, gone were all traces of boy band.
The look he sported now was distracting, incredibly so. He looked good, and it seemed you weren't the only that seemed to notice.
"She's eating him with her eyes." you grumble, arms crossing as Derek comes up behind you. He's got his chin pressed to your shoulder, following your line of sight, as a boisterous laugh escapes him. "It's not funny, Derek." this hiss of yours only seems to fuel his amusement as he starts to chuckle even louder.
"You've been mean mugging that girl since she walked in this morning." Derek rounds your desk now, obstructing your view of the betrayal taking place across the bullpen. It was a slow day, a good day. No cases, but loads of paperwork. Your desk was covered in nothing but files, some you'd started, some you'd finished. You're still cross, but you allow yourself to look up at your long time friend.
"I'm not mean mugging." you huff, blinking slow as you think over your clear fib. "There's just something in my eye." you whisper, and it's not convincing. You can tell by the way Derek's bag chuckling.
"Yeah, a green monster." he retorts quickly, and you can't deny the way it catches you off guard, as a choked laugh at your own expense escapes you. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, little bit." he hums and you droop, because of course you know that. "Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling?" he asks, and despite all his jokes and quips, Derek Morgan was perceptive, and he cared about you.
"That's a horrible idea." you exclaim, and your entire body jerks back, recoiling as if you'd been stung. "God, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth criminal?" your eyebrows quirk upward, "What type of advice is that?" you proceed, and Derek's bemused, looking down at you as he waits for you to finish your spiel.
"Just tell him straight up how you feel?" you deepen your voice to mock his, "Why don't I just run around the bullpen in underwear too, since we're doing dumb things." you huff, and your dramatics are amusing. They always have been. You'd been a member of the team going on two years, and you'd made a mark so deep it almost felt like you'd always been a part of the Unit.
You were a stark contrast to Emily and JJ, and a complete 180 from the angsty bombshell that had been Elle Greenaway. You were a wide-eyed 20-something year old that still had so much light behind your eyes, and a hope that you wouldn't shake. You had a way of making everyone laugh. You could pull anyone out of their heads, even Hotch, who Derek had caught many times fighting back small content smizes as you took the team's mind off the gore of the job.
"That's one way to get attention." he hums, and you huff again.
"Derek, you're not being helpful. If you're just here to laugh at my misery, I'm gonna start rethinking your place in my life." you hum, and you lean forward, chin resting against your palms. Derek appraises you, head tipping to the side as he offers you a charming grin.
"All I'm saying is, you've been crushing on the kid since you got here." he reminds you, and your frown deepens. "And the world wont be blind forever." he mumbles, and you know what he means. Spencer Reid to you had always been the most beautiful guy, but he'd been buried under mountains of trauma and insecurities that he had never been able to accept that. With time though, Spencer had begun to blossom, and this new haircut seemed to be a testament of this.
He was coming into himself, there was a new confidence budding in his steps, less stammers between phrases, and you didn't really have to fight for eye contact much anymore. He was still Spence, and in his words, he was far from an Alpha Male, but he could be. And he would be, you just knew it. Which meant that the more confident he became, the more women would see him the way you saw him. Damn. Derek sees the way the cogs in your mind move, and he sighs.
"Take it from someone who's been around-." you can't help but to insert with your own little quip. "What are you calling yourself a dog?" you tease, and his eyes roll, but he still grins wide.
"Listen." he stretches the word a bit, and he's looking you right in the eye. You can see sympathy swirling through the pretty pools of brown, and you believe that maybe if you were a bit older, and had met Derek first, you'd be swooning for him the way you were swooning for Spencer. You shake these thoughts of his beauty away, as you give him the space to speak freely. "I know what it's like to miss a window." he reminds you. "Rejection's a bitch." he adds.
True. It was precisely why you'd never bothered to say anything to Spencer. You got through life by pretending things were fine, by making a joke out of the hard stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle opening your heart to someone, and being told 'No'. That you weren't good enough, that you weren't what they needed. Maybe that was selfish, rejection was a part of life. It was necessary, but still. You'd rather deal with your unresolved issues alone. You saw no need to bring Spencer into conversations about your feelings for him at all.
"But guilt's a motherfucker." and Derek's words stop you short. You blink. What was worse? The sting that rejection could cause or the gaping hole that guilt would bring? The thought of getting an invite to a wedding day for a future Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid while you sitll held romantic feelings close to your chest made you want to vomit. Perhaps Derek had a point. At least if Spence turned you down with time the two of you could work around it, become friends again.
If you never said anything though, you'd have no right to be angry or hurt or jealous if some woman with much more confidence than you managed to swoop in and knock him off his feet Damn, you hated when Derek was right. His chuckle is what alerts you that your begrudging inner thoughts had been uttered aloud.
"What's Derek right about?" you smell the familiar scent of Prentiss' perfume before you see her face. It's subtle but comforting, and it makes you unconsciously relax in your seat. Derek's moving out of your line of sight, and you're met with the sight of Spencer still talking to the woman. She had a firm grip on a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand leisurely tracing circles on Spencer's arms. You inhale sharply, swiveling in your seat as you turn to face Emily.
"Everything." Derek takes the swing, winking as you and Emily share a dry glance. He then subtly nods his head towards the woman crowding Spencer at the kitchenette and Emily's lips form a thin line of understanding. She turns to you, hand resting on your shoulder as she gives it a firm squeeze.
"Don't you think it's time to take a swing?" she offers, and you hate that immediately she falls into step with Derek. The duo forming a united front against you to ensure you put your big girl pants on and tell him the way you're feeling. "Here's an idea," And Emily's looking for a second to make sure Spencer is still too preoccupied to make his way over. "You've been trying to find someone to go with you to that new movie... what was it?" Emily snaps her fingers.
"Crash of the-" you cut her off with a deep sigh.
"Clash... it's Called Clash of the Titans." you mutter, and you pout. You had been trying to convince Emily, JJ, and Penelope to give the action film a shot. What could be better than watching Sam Worthington run across your scream for nearly two hours as you're transported to Ancient Greece? But, alas... the girls were far more interested in other things. In truth, they'd all agreed that they'd prefer to see something a little less packed with gore and violence.
Just for a change of pace.
You couldn't slight them for their polite rejection of your plans. The last case you'd been on had been especially taxing and nightmare inducing. "Why don't you ask him instead?" she hums, and you look over at the chatting duo, they'd really been talking for a while. There's this easygoing sort of look on Spencer's face, and the beauty across from him has turned about the same shade of red as the lipstick smeared across her full pout.
"Looks like she beat me to it." you mutter, and you think maybe God hates you, because as you let the words out, the girl is beaming even brighter, slipping something she'd written on a napkin into the palm of his hand. She offers a flirty wink before she's sashaying off, hips moving from side to side as she makes her way back to her own little cubby. "Ah well, who cares?" you try your hand at playing nonchalant. "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."
And the thing about Denial was that you'd spent so long making it your security blanket that you often forgot you were working with some of the most brilliant minds the FBI had ever produced.
Derek pats your shoulder, he's sympathetic to your plight. He was probably the only person you had been the most forthcoming with about these feelings you harbored. Emily frowns, and she offers you a side hug, chin resting on the top of your head. Their comfort makes you feel better, but the coil of feelings in your gut only seems to tighten. You wanted to be alone, you'd been perceived enough, if any of them pushed any further you may have broken into tears.
"I-I should get back to work." you mutter quietly, and they both know what you're doing. For once they resist the urge to comment, and they leave you be. Your desk was farthest away from the rest of the team. You and Hotch had agreed it was necessity. You could focus more when your back was to the rest of them. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming against the table as you swallowed your emotions. You tiredly reach for an unfinished file, flipping it open.
Blurry words peer back at you, and you're shocked to realize that despite all your efforts you were still about to cry. Fuck.
You close your eyes, counting up to thirty in both english and spanish, by the time you'd finished breathing treinta under your breath, you had a new guest in front of you. Spencer stretched up for what felt like miles, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood before your desk with a look of confusion on his face. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, and his voice always has this tenderness throughout.
"J-Just fine." and your stammer gives you away. Your voice is coated with mucus, a surefire signal that you were about a few seconds shy of having an immature meltdown. How silly of you to be this shaken up over the prospect of Spencer being with someone else. How dare you? You didn't even have the balls to admit that your playful flirting was just you overcompensating for the fact you couldn't do it foreal.
"I read somewhere that breathing exercises help you get through boring things." you motion to the file, and you've perfected your fake grin. Spencer doesn't look convinced, but he plays along.
"Oh, yeah? Where'd you read that?" he asks and you blanche.
"Uh. Just somewhere." you answer, and he's raised both his eyebrows. You recover quickly, clearing your throat. "You've replaced me, huh?" you ask, and you're playing it off like one of your jokes. Spencer looks shocked for a second, before he tips his head to the side as he looks down at you as if you were the most important thing in his world. If only.
"What do you mean?" he pries, and you motion with your head to the coffee station.
"Found another pretty girl to boost your head up, huh?" you mutter, and there's this flash. Something you can't quite catch, mostly because you're not in the mood to profile and analyze what all his facial expressions meant now. "You guys looked like you were having a good time." you add, and you hope you don't sound bitter. Jealousy or not, if Spencer was happy, you'd be happy too. You'd try.
"Yeah." he replies, and his face is turning red. "S-She was just being nice." he answers, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how he hasn't said 'No, I haven't replaced you.' You sour all the more.
"That's nice, Spence." you hum, and it's clear you've now become uninterested. So much for trying.
Still, Spencer was nothing if not selectively oblivious. You guys had been playing this game for almost a year, he wasn't going to make it easy for you to cop out and make him the bad guy. "She actually asked me to go see-" the rest of his joy-ridden words are mush in your head, and you can imagine how unamused you looked as you half-listened to him go on about how they were going out Saturday.
Yippee.
You don't mean to be rude, not really. But you couldn't bring yourself to listen to anymore. "Congratulations, Spencer." you cut him off abruptly. "But I've got to finish this, so if you could just-" and you're ushering him off as he stares at you aghast.
"What's your problem?" he pries, and you blink owlishly.
"Nothing." you insist, and you look over your shoulder. The team was not-so-subtly watching the exchange. Typical.
"I find that hard to believe." Spencer retorts, and he's got this unimpressed look on his face, like he knows something you don't. His genius has never irked you before, but right now it just makes you feel more perceived. Like he knew how you felt and was rubbing this all in your face. He couldn't possibly be that cruel though, right?
"Well that's not really my problem is it?" you snap, and Spencer's reaction is instantaneous. His scoff rings in your ears.
"Yeah, actually it is." he shoots back, and you rear back in surprise. What was that supposed to mean. "You know this is getting really old." and your strangled gasp escapes you before you can stop it.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you narrow your eyes as you set your glare on him. He's got his own challenging sort of glance on his face, almost like he's daring you to keep playing dumb. You will. If only to push him to spit out whatever was so clearly sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Go on. Please tell me, Mr. All knowing." you press and his eyes roll. You look like a perturbed toddler ready to fling yourself on the ground and scream.
"Grow up." is all he says, and it slices you clean in half. "If you're gonna play the role of the jealous little girl, at least respect me enough to not play dumb about it when you're caught." and then he's leaving you sitting at your desk, and you're gawking.
Fuck.
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angelshimaa · 4 months
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thinking about bakugou who thinks he's hiding his crush on you so well. gn!reader, fluff
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everybody knows when katsuki develops a crush on you.
he thinks he's so smooth and secretive with it too. he genuinely believes he treats you the same as he does all his other friends, he believes nobody else would ever know unless he says something to them upfront.
yet, he isn't as aware of a simple habit he picks up as his friends are, and to them it's a sign so bright it might as well be a siren.
they only need to watch katsuki when you walk into the room to see it; he gradually falls quieter when in your presence.
any pride and abrasiveness rising from his throat in the form of his booming voice gives way to the stutter his heart does when you walk up and greet everyone with a smile on your face. you always make sure to greet him specifically and when he responds gruffly, it's always softer than if it were kirishima or deku.
thinking that maybe he just doesn't particularly care for you, you turn to immerse yourself into whatever conversation kirishima, kaminari and ashido are having. you're swimming so deep in it, that you don't notice a pair of narrowed red eyes tracing over your face, over your smile and over the way you double over in laughter when ashido makes a joke.
it makes katsuki feel a warm sort of funny— like there's a funny fluffy thing that tells any other thoughts of his to slow down just a little so his mind can entertain the ones of you.
should he tell you he likes the way you've done your hair? maybe he should mention how pretty your smile is, how you glow when you're happy. how can he make you laugh like that, unguarded and carefree? can he learn how to make your laugh tangible, so he can know if it would look as golden as it sounds?
you calm the loudness he constantly drowns himself in, and you drop him into perfumed water that has his mind thinking only of you and the poetry he could place next to images of you. you make him want to act on gentler emotions for a change, which is to say you make him want to read poetry and see you in every line and he isn't quite sure how to feel normal about that.
katsuki thinks he's being subtle and as you chat excitedly, adding to whatever idea you've all come up with, you are definitely none-the-wiser. however, still lost in silently admiring you, katsuki fails to notice the eyes of his friends glancing quickly at him, gleaming with understanding.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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taglist (complete this form to join) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay @k0z3me @frannky @sweeteaas @niktwazny303
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actual-changeling · 8 months
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this one is thanks to a post by @thegroovyfool because she is very much correct - we do not talk about aziraphale's "i need you" enough.
so once again, with a deep breath and a sigh, welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, where i tear apart the confession scene frame by frame. i'm gonna say, watching this particular clip over and over and focusing on aziraphale's face almost took me out.
let's get into it.
first, how about a little look at our starting point. (any blurry screencaps are due to a LOT of movement on michael's part rip)
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crowley is very pointedly facing away from him, he turned after aziraphale said "we can be together - angels!", presumably because being offered exactly what he wants in the one way he cannot have it fried his brain, cause besties it surely fried mine.
aziraphale on the other hand looks openly desperate, which is why he says "i need you." more on that later. let's have a look at how he says it, because michael "microexpressions" sheen is putting in the work.
to me, he seems close to tears, his eyes are glistening in that specific "i'm about to cry my eyes out" way i know from looking in the mirror while crying
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he is trying to get crowley to listen to him and to turn around. he wants crowley to face him, which is something most people tend to want during an argument. talking to someone who is not looking at you tends to make someone frustrated and like they're not hearing you/do not care about what you have to say.
aziraphale looks close to despair, his i need you is a plea to crowley to come with him. he is opening himself up not just emotionally but physically, too.
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he slightly leans forward, his arms are raised and seem to both slightly grasp for crowley and point towards his chest/heart for emphasis. the pure pain visible on his face knocks the air out of me every single time i look at it.
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aziraphale is admitting to needing him, something he has never done before, hell, he has told him the exact opposite on numerous occasions. i don't need you. and while they both knew it was a) a lie and b) a way for him to deal with his conflicting emotional standpoints and cognitive dissonance, it still hurt crowley every. single time.
crowley was there for him no matter what, he knows aziraphale needs him but he came back and remained at his side even when he was pushed away and more or less openly insulted. he endured it all.
aziraphale saying i need you now is pretty much a slap in the face but also what crowley needs to hear. as with everything that happens during the entire conversation, the timing is fucked up and they're talking past each other.
in my opinion, that is why crowley does not react.
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only when aziraphale turns spiteful and starts questioning his understanding (aka calling him stupid without outright saying it) does he re-enter the conversation.
aziraphale, however, is upset. now, i will put on my tinhat for just a second and turn up the insanity because there are two more things i want to talk about.
first, the little stutter at the beginning.
"i ngk - i need you."
my question is - why? why does he stumble over these words in particular when it does not happen with any other sentence? the only other time is right after crowley walks away with his "good luck", he stumbles over crowley's name.
so, in short, it happens when he is either caught off-guard or saying something incredible emotional.
and this, everyone, is where i go unhinged in my interpretation.
what if he initially did not want to say "i need you?" what if he was so caught up in getting crowley to stay/come with him that he did not think and almost confessed another three word sentence?
what if he was about to say "i love you" but stopped himself because no, that's too direct, they don't do that, they can't do that. it goes against EVERYTHING they have silently build over the last six thousand years. so he chokes on it. he chokes on it and instead he says "i need you" because it means the same thing.
i need you. don't leave me. come with me. be an us. go off together.
i forgive you. i love you.
they say it over and over again because that's the only way they can say it.
that is why aziraphale is so angry and upset after saying it. he told crowley he loves him, he needs him, and all he got in return was silence.
the funny part is that this code may have worked before, but it no longer does. crowley is too hurt to listen to what aziraphale is trying to tell him, and aziraphale is equally as hurt and also not listening anymore.
the funny part is that it stopped being about love and started being about sides again. my side, your side, our side. choose a side, choose our side, choose me.
the funny part is that beelzebub and gabriel told them what they need to do, i found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.
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sage-nebula · 1 month
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"Suffer No Fools" - Shiver vs. Marina Analysis
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It's been a few days since "Suffer No Fools" released, but I wanted to go ahead and release my analysis of Shiver's and Marina's verse since that's the one that has caused the most discussion within the fandom. I've seen a lot of debate over Marina's section in particular, with people unsure whether she was being sincere or sarcastic, and I think the actual answer is a little more complicated than one or the other, at least with regards to the first couplet of lines both she and Shiver sing. Of course, people are free to interpret this song however they wish, but after seeing numerous interpretations I personally didn't vibe with, I just wanted to put my own out there, breaking it down line by line.
So! Here we go.
Exchange 1:
Shiver: "Your haunting voice -- there's no escape. How nice it must be for your fans." Marina: "You're far too kind! I love your vibe. I can learn so much from your style."
Analyzing from dialogue only:
Shiver is insulting Marina's voice by calling it haunting and saying there is no escape, insinuating she wishes there was one. She says how nice it must be for Marina's fans, again implying that she isn't one.
Marina says that she loves Shiver's vibe, which on the surface could be a compliment, but given the context (a music battle) it could also be a Mean Girl "ooh I love your [thing] :)" passive-aggressive drawing-attention-to-something-ugly insult. More direct though, is the "I can learn so much from your style"; you can learn what not to do from someone just as much as you can learn what to do from someone. Marina's engaging in plausible deniability here.
HOWEVER. Lyrics are NOT the only thing that need to be analyzed from this first verse, which is arguably the MOST important exchange between these two. Instead, we need to look at how these lines are delivered.
Shiver is singing in a traditional Japanese folk singing style, specifically a style based on Shima-uta, which her voice actress has a background singing in. Unfortunately, I don't know the actual term for this style of singing, only that it's not kakegoe, something Shiver also does that is different from this. Anyway, in these lines specifically Shiver is singing in her Shima-uta style, a style that she has presumably been practicing since she was a small child, a style that is probably culturally significant to the Hohojiro clan. Singing in this style is not something that just anyone can do. It's completely different from singing in a (for lack of a better word) "western" style. The way you breathe is completely different. The way you incorporate your voice into your breathing is completely different. So by singing in this style, which Shiver has been doing practically her whole life and which, presumably, only she of the four there can do, Shiver is FLEXING on Marina regardless of what lyrics she chooses to sing.
But then Marina, who grew up under the domes in Inkadia, who presumably has never heard Shima-uta before she started listening to Deep Cut and heard Shiver sing, who presumably has had absolutely no training whatsoever on this style of song . . . mimics it perfectly and flexes on Shiver right back.
Could Marina's words to Shiver be interpreted as passive-aggressive in turn? Yes. But does it matter? No, not really. Because in this first verse, Marina's ACTUAL comeback is to take the style of singing that Shiver has been perfecting her entire life and throw it right back in her face despite having never (as far as we or Shiver know) practiced it herself. Shiver was flexing by presumably doing something Marina couldn't do, only for Marina to do it flawlessly, being every bit as divine with a voice so fine as Pearl said she was previously. Marina says "I love your vibe" so she takes it. Marina says "I have so much to learn from you" but does she really, when she can already do exactly what Shiver can, and has, just now, right in front of her?
And Shiver noticed, hence:
Exchange 2:
Shiver: "You remind me of my neighbor's little daughter . . . What's that saying? 'Octo see, octo do.'" Marina: "Glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved. Thanks to your notes, I'll find my groove!"
Shiver drops the Shima-uta singing, because now there's no point. Marina can also sing in that style, so it's no longer a flex. Shiver lost ground on that one, so instead we're back to the same (again, for lack of a better word) "regular" style of singing that everyone else is using. For that reason, we can go back to analyzing purely based on the words alone.
Shiver is calling Marina a copycat, essentially, because Marina copied her Shima-uta singing style in the previous verse (hence why Shiver had to drop it, as previously noted). Marina then gives her "glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved" . . . basically noting that by Shiver accusing her of copying, Shiver is saying that Marina -- someone who just tried the singing style off the cuff right there on the stage for the first time -- was just as good as Shiver, someone who has trained in that style her whole life. The audience saw for themselves that Marina was able to emulate the style, but Shiver saying, "you copied me!" is basically admitting that Marina was just as good as her in Shiver's own eyes, and Shiver is a pro. That's Shiver's aggravation handing Marina the win and Marina smiling wide as she accepts it.
Exchange 3:
Shiver: "Oh, look at the time. Isn't it getting late?" Marina: "Not at all! I could go on like this all night long."
This one doesn't even really need an analysis. For all that she prides herself on being "so cool even sharks call her cold-blooded," Shiver is known for being easily irritated and riled when she's losing due to her competitive nature. Marina successfully got under her skin, and this is her trying to end the battle fast because she didn't have any further comebacks. Marina, meanwhile, gives the classic "I could go on all night" because she's not riled at all, and is instead perfectly comfortable in this environment, knows what she's doing, and has had the upper hand from the start.
It goes back to another post I made about Experience vs. Inexperience. Shiver and Frye are still new idols, whereas Pearl and Marina have been at this for a long while. And while off the stage Marina is a sweet, kind, gentle person who will go out of her way to help others, and can sometimes be a little spacey or naive, she's also a 23-year-old literal genius who has been in the music industry for years now and knows full well what a rap / music battle is and knows her way around a stage. Personally, I found it to be a little infantilizing to insinuate that she "didn't realize Shiver was insulting her," when not only do I think she knew full well, but also she was the one with the upper hand not because of sick burns (that's Pearl's department), but because of sheer innate musical talent.
But those are just my thoughts! Everyone else is free to have their own.
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bayjaruchel · 5 months
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Strawberry Blond
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---
Pairing: Peeta Mellark/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Late one night, you get a call. (4.7k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )
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You know that your relationship can never be normal. 
Even now, when you technically should have peace of mind— and you're out of the arena, out of the Games— there's still the ugly truth that lies beneath it all. The Victor's Village is beautiful in comparison to the rest of District Twelve, but because of the reason why you earned a residence here, you're not sure if you'll ever truly enjoy it. Brick houses with plenty of room, and yet yours is still far too empty, even if you have your family to keep you company. 
Peeta lives alone in his. 
There's always smoke coming from the chimney, and he keeps most, if not all of the lights on. The only room that occasionally has its lights off is his, which is on the second floor. You've woken up in the middle of the night many times and glimpsed the shining evidence that he's still awake. It's not like you get perfect sleep yourself— but you worry, sometimes. 
You do visit him, sometimes. But you've never knocked on his door when it's nighttime. You're not entirely sure why that is; maybe it's because you're afraid of what the cool silence will bring. Maybe it's too intimate. Neither of you are strangers to intimacy, and you've definitely maintained a little of that, but … There's still a certain distance. Away from the cameras, you still struggle to discern what's real and what's not. 
The way he looks at you is certainly real. 
You don't know if you'll ever feel exactly the same way towards him. 
Sure, you do like him. A lot. He makes it easy. He's the type of guy that you could bring home to your parents. He's the type of guy that one would want to come home to every day. Of course, he's a little more reserved, and his eyes are duller, but— he's still Peeta. He's still the baker's boy. Deep down, he'll never lose what made you— and all of the Capitol— fall in love with him. 
Is it really love, though? Or is it just admiration? 
It's something that you think about a lot. You've never said those three words to him when not in front of an audience. And he knows that on those specific occasions, it wasn't real. It was just an act. Maybe when he kissed you, he wasn't acting. Maybe when he looked at you and said those lovely things to you, he wasn't acting. 
You can dream. You can hope. 
However, most of your actual dreams nowadays are just nightmares.  
No golden boy is holding you, shielding you from the awful weather. There's no bright, happy future in which everything turned out right. And there's none of those strange, albeit interesting dreams where your house is upside down and your teacher at school is telling you that somehow, you've suddenly graduated and you're being sent off to the Capitol to become one of them. 
Instead, there's just fire. 
Tonight, you dream of fire. 
Burning bodies that fall from the highest trees. You can vaguely make out who they are— there's a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach, a primal guilt. Everything around you is blazing, and you know you should try and get out, but your feet are frozen, rooted to the spot. You can't move, even as the flames begin to lick around your ankles. Even if you did run, you wouldn't be able to escape. This has been a long time coming, hasn't it? 
Despite the almost blinding brightness emanating from the fire, everything else is foggy and dark. The only thing you can focus on is the corpses, the trees, and everything coming down around you. Someone shouts your name, but it's muffled like you're underwater. You fail to register it fast enough. 
A scream, crystal-clear. 
You whip around, and there it is. The evidence of your failure. You're helpless to do anything— you can only watch— more screaming, more yelling, more pleads for help— 
There is so, so much blood— 
You're awake, and the blistering heat is gone. 
Gasping, you sit up, struggling for breath. It keeps catching in your throat. Your heart's pounding at a pace that makes your head spin. Dizzy, disorienting. But it used to be worse than this. 
At least you don't wake up sobbing anymore. 
This is still awful, though. Trembling, you wrap your arms around yourself, attempting to regain control. In, out. In, out. Your lungs shudder with the effort, but you keep going. Despite the comfortable warmth of the house, there's still goosebumps prickling up and down your bare skin. Your arms. Your neck. The sheets are tangled around your waist and legs; you almost feel trapped. 
There's no point in closing the curtains, since virtually nobody is in the streets, and the other inhabitants of the Village couldn't possibly look through your windows. When you glance out of the one nearest to your bed, it's almost pitch-black outside. There are no street lamps, after all. You try to focus on the cold, empty houses to distract yourself. 
Finally, your breath slows. Your pulse calms. 
You're still shaking, faintly, but your knees don't give out when you detangle yourself from your blankets and slip out of bed. You consider that a minor victory. 
Taking care not to make too much noise, you head downstairs. The polished stone is cold underneath your feet, but it's grounding, in a way. It settles you back down to earth. For a short while, you frequently lost your way due to the sheer size of the house, but now you know the quickest route to the kitchen by heart. Even when half-asleep, you know exactly where to go. 
The light flicks on with a quiet buzz when you gently press the switch. 
Quietly, you wonder if the ultimate prize for winning the Games was running water. It's cold, as it splashes over your fingers and into the basin. There are plenty of pristine, artisan glasses and whatnot in the overhead cabinets— probably made in District One— but you always reach for the mugs you had before. The ones with a couple of cracks and dents littering their bodies— evidence of their long lifespans. 
You lean against the counter as you take a long gulp of water. It's pleasant, the feeling pooling low in your chest. 
The silence used to be unnerving, but now, you welcome it with open arms. 
You take another, smaller sip from your mug. Maybe you'll be able to sleep for another few hours. Until the sun rises, at least. Then, you can take a walk. You can wander around all you like here, provided that you don't stray too far. Regardless, you're sure nobody will be too concerned about that. Haymitch is the sole man responsible for the lax rules concerning the victors. 
You're still not sure if you like him or not. 
Slowly, you finish your drink. But, just as you're ready to set it into the sink and head back upstairs—
—the phone's ringing. 
You can hear it pretty clearly, even if it's muffled. 
Who could be calling at this hour? Furrowing your brow, you put down the mug and start heading down the hallway, towards the study. You're well aware that Haymitch tore his phone out of the wall ages ago, so it couldn't be him. Nobody from your District calls you, either. And if you get any calls from outside the District, they're usually during the daytime. Not at two-ish in the morning. The Capitol may be invasive, but they're not that invasive. They need their beauty rest, you figure.  
So, taking all of that into consideration, that only leaves— 
"Peeta?" You mutter, upon picking up the phone. 
There's a beat of silence. 
"Hello," he replies. 
It's a bit hard to tell over the line, but he sounds nearly as groggy as you. Delicately, you shut the door of the study behind you with a quiet click. Just in case. 
"Is something wrong?" You allow yourself to be a little louder, now that there's a barrier between you and the rest of the house. "Couldn't sleep?" 
"Something like that." There's a slight rustling. "I mean— nothing new, right?" Even though you know he meant it as a joke, the grim truth makes it fall flat. 
Still, you breathe out a quiet laugh. "Nothing's changed." Affixing your gaze on one of the chairs sitting around the mahogany table, you fiddle with the telephone cord. "Did you, uh— did you need something, though?" 
Peeta hesitates again. 
"I just—" He cuts himself off. "I'm sorry for calling you so late." He's entirely earnest in a way that makes you ache. "Did I wake you up?" 
He's also dodging the question, even if he is genuinely worried about your sleep schedule. 
"No, you didn't," you assert, "don't worry about that. It's fine." 
"Okay," he responds, relief palpable despite the crackly quality. 
The telephone cord is somewhat cold where it rests on your knuckles. You continue to twist it around your idle hand. 
"You still haven't answered my question, by the way."  
Peeta audibly exhales. 
"Oh." More rustling. "Yeah. I, um—" he clears his throat, "—yeah, I do need something, actually." 
That could mean a lot of things. Does he just need to talk? You know he does, sometimes. Or maybe he just needs some more flour, and is too embarrassed to admit it. He does seem like the type of guy to stress-bake in the wee hours of the morning. However, you seriously doubt that he wants anything related to that. 
"What is it?" You ask, finally. 
His next words are rushed, as if he's afraid that if he says them slowly, he'll never get them out. 
"Could you come over? I just—" it's only a momentary gap, "—don't wanna be alone right now." 
Ah. 
The thing is, you understand. You know what it's like. And there's only one possible response that you can give right now. Vividly, you can see him— the cave—  his face, shining with a cold sweat, his eyes scrunched tightly in pain— 
"Okay." You're already mentally mapping out where to go. "I'll be there in a few." 
-- 
When he opens the door, Peeta looks exhausted. 
But when he smiles at you, there's still that light in his eyes. That look he gets whenever you're around. It used to make you feel sick to your stomach, but now— now, you're not quite sure how to feel. You've been told that in comparison to him, you're rather good at keeping your feelings hidden underneath the surface. It's been necessary, after all. 
"You're here," he says after a beat, as if he expected anything else. 
"I'm here," you echo. 
Wordlessly, he steps aside to let you pass by. Somehow, although the layout of his house is exactly the same as yours, his still feels different. Warmer. A little cozier. The remnants of something sweet are still floating through the air, and you glance back at him. Maybe you were right about the possibility of him making cookies— or apple turnovers. Or those little cakes. 
"Been baking?" You ask. 
"Earlier," he clarifies, shutting the door behind you. 
"Smells nice." 
Peeta lingers by your side. "Want some?" 
"If that's okay." 
"It's always been okay." He raises his eyebrows. "How many times have I told you that you don't even need to ask?" 
You shoot him a look. "Doesn't hurt to ask." 
Flawlessly, he copies your expression. "How do you know that?" 
"It's called being polite, Peeta." 
"Polite," he repeats. "Polite…" 
You let out a short sigh. 
"Just show me where they are." 
He gives you a shit-eating grin. "And there it is." 
You don't even bother trying to respond; he's already padding past you, anyway. It's a short trip to the kitchen. His is more cluttered than yours— recently-used, more lived-in. There are more dishes in the sink, more stuff on the counter. But your eyes are drawn to the two wire baking racks on the stovetop. On top of them sit around two dozen pastries. They're prettily decorated with pink, blue, and white icing, and you take some time to admire them as you join him in front of the stove. 
"You've outdone yourself," you can't help but murmur. "Wow." 
At your compliment, Peeta instantly turns bashful. 
"Oh, thanks." Of course, he can't let those words sit. "It's— it's not my best work, but I—" 
His volume drops, and he pauses. 
"Well— my hands were shaking, so…"
Abruptly, you turn your attention away from the pastries. 
He notices, interrupting you before you can even open your mouth to speak. 
"I know what you're gonna ask," he says, softly. "And, yeah, I do want to talk about it. Just—" Peeta sucks in a breath. "Just not now, okay? Give it a little while." The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he gestures towards the racks. 
"Eat." 
You consider pressing the question. You consider urging him— did it happen again? Was it worse this time? It had to have been worse, considering that he wanted you over in the first place. Just thinking about it makes your stomach perform an uneasy flip. You can read Peeta. And right now, you can read the bags under his eyes. The tiredness he's trying to fight away. 
However, you don't want to push him. You don't want to break him down. Not again. 
So, you take a pastry. 
It's really, very good. 
Peeta takes one for himself, too, and you eat in silence. You know that despite your frequent approval of his various baked goods, he's still carefully watching your reaction; you make sure to look pleased, and it isn't hard at all. He seems satisfied. You're also satisfied. Once you've finished your pastry, you lick the remnants of the icing off your fingers. 
You pretend not to notice the way he stares— briefly, before forcing his gaze away. 
You pretend to ignore the way your heart skips. 
Mercifully, he breaks the awkward tension. 
 "Do you— would you want to take some home?" He asks, after swallowing. "We both know that I'm not gonna eat 'em all." 
"Oh, yeah, I'll take some," you answer. Thinking for a second, you add, "Were you going to risk bringing some to Haymitch, or—" 
He snorts. "Not this time." 
"More for me, then." 
"And your family, you mean?" 
You smile. There's no way that you're going to give up those pastries without a fight. 
"Sure. And my family."
Peeta doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he returns your smile all the same. 
-- 
He always keeps his bedroom windows open at night. 
You're not exactly sure why, but you suppose it's because he runs warm. Always. 
The duvet's soft on your bare skin, and his hands are gentle. With the way your head is positioned, if you move your ear just so, you can hear his heartbeat thumping through his chest. A steady rhythm. He's calm, and so are you. You're certain that you could fall asleep like this— if it weren't for the fact that you have other, more important priorities right now. 
When you look up at him, shifting an increment closer, he talks. 
"I thought things were getting better." His Adam's apple bobs as you watch. "I thought that— that things were gonna start improving. That I'd— " He trails off, for a second. 
"That I'd start going back to normal, I guess. But I should've known that it's… It's impossible." His gaze is focused on the ceiling. "It was hopeless to try and believe that I could just keep on going like nothing happened at all." 
You find your voice. 
"But you still tried?" 
The chuckle he lets out is completely humorless. 
"Yeah, I tried." 
He's always been optimistic— he's always trying to see the best in people. And seeing him like this makes you feel hopeless. You know what he's going through. It's essentially the same thing that you're going through. However, it's not like you can read minds. He knows the right words to say, but you don't. Even though you wish you could. Words— even though actions can speak louder than them— still mean a lot. You turn that word over in your head a couple of times. Actions. 
"What happened?" You ask, quietly. 
 A beat. 
"I let down my guard," he starts, volume barely a whisper. "I was confident in my stability. I thought that I wouldn't— break down, or anything. Because it had been a few weeks, and—" 
His eyes shut. Tightly. "God, I'm stupid." 
"You're not," you rush to interject, "don't say that." 
Peeta lets out another huff. "But it was stupid. To assume that I'd be okay, I mean. I should've— I should've expected it, at least." He quickly carries on. "Even after everything, I still let myself fall into a routine." 
I still let myself fall back into a routine, you know what he means. The bad dreams pale in comparison to the real monsters that loom over the both of you. Haymitch is a living example of what can happen; what will happen, if you don't hold on to tight control of the hypothetical reins. You ache. 
"Don't blame yourself for any of this," you murmur, "please. It's not your fault. Not in the slightest." You have to speak slowly, pace yourself. Keep yourself from everything you want to say. "Even if you tried to— I don't know, stay hyper-aware of everything— it would still come crashing down eventually." A breath. "It's inevitable, Peeta. It's always going to be here." 
"But I don't want it to be here," he chokes out, "I really, really don't!" 
You push yourself up from your previous position. His eyes are open now, wide and looking up at you. 
When you move backward and open your arms, he's on you in an instant. 
You rock back and forth, gently. You're not sure which one of you is holding onto the other tighter. Clinging would be a better word. His face is pressed firmly into your shoulder. You can feel him shaking. 
Despite everything, he won't let himself make any noise when he cries. 
You don't know how long you stay like this. It could be minutes. Hours, even. All you can feel and register is him. Peeta. He's trembling. The barely-there sensation, combined with the undeniable tightness of his arms. His hands. It's almost like he thinks that if he loosens his hold, even by just the slightest fraction, you'll suddenly disappear. 
That you'll cease to exist. 
That you'll become not real.  
When you finally draw back— slowly, tentatively, and only because he does it first— 
He sniffs, eyes red. They're not brimming with unshed tears, but they're still wet. You can't help but thumb away what little remains on his lower lids, even though you know that you probably look about the same. 
Peeta returns the gesture. 
Unlike you, though, he lingers, hand dropping to cup your cheek. 
There's a moment. 
You've done this before, of course. You've held each other. Comforted each other, brought each other back down. But since the end of the Games— since you've gotten away from the clamoring audiences desperate for a romance despite the sick circumstances— you haven't done anything more than that. 
You haven't kissed him since the end of the Games. 
But right now, you realize that you want to. More than anything. Anyone could see that Peeta wants it, too. Maybe even more than you do. 
So, when he leans in— just barely— closing the distance— 
It's practiced, at first. Familiar. Almost nostalgic. 
But then he melts, and it's suddenly something completely different.  
Peeta lets you softly maneuver him down onto the mattress, up against the pillows that are still too soft for your liking. He kisses you in the way those terrible poets describe— it's all excessively large bouquets, a clear starry night, longing looks across a crowded room, and—  
It's real. 
He gives. You take, and exchange it for everything you have in return. His hand stays on your cheek, the other behind your head, pulling you down. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. You lose yourself in the feeling. Whenever you part, it's only out of necessity, and you're soon leaning back in. You're making up for lost time— you're making up for every action you didn't mean, every word that was too sugary-sweet. 
Soon, your kisses grow deeper. And neither of you wants to stop. 
It's only when his hands are trailing down your body, down to the hem of your shirt, that you bother addressing it. Even if you want this— so, so desperately— you don't want to force anything in a situation that doesn't require it. Just kissing is nice. It's very nice. Nice enough that it takes a little while for you to regain control of your mouth. 
"Is this—" 
—and he's already speaking. Hushed, like you. 
"Please." 
It's almost embarrassing, what that single word does to you. But you barrel on. 
"It's okay?" You ask, "Just say if it's not, and I'll stop—" 
"—I just," Peeta visibly struggles with what to say for a moment, before settling on: 
"Need you," he says. "Please." 
It's more than enough, and you're in no place to deny him for much longer. You recapture his lips, welcoming his touch. His hands on your back, then your waist, then your hips again. His grip is firm, but not overly so. He would never hurt you, after all. Especially not here. Especially after what he's witnessed. 
His hands are warm and calloused on your bare skin. Strong, with all the work he's done since he was old enough to knead dough. You have to sit up in order to take off your nightshirt, and he takes the opportunity to do the same with his. You've already seen him shirtless, and at close proximity, too— but it wasn't like this. You couldn't trail over every little detail with your lips, back then. 
Peeta shivers, letting out a short giggle when you press a kiss to his stomach. He's sturdy, that's for sure. Impressive biceps, a toned chest. He's beautiful, and you tell him so. You think he blushes, but it's difficult to say for certain from your position. You're too focused on finding all the little freckles you can. 
He likes it when you kiss his neck, breath audibly hitching when you do so. 
But even though he lets you entertain yourself for a decent while, he makes sure to return the favor. He's never liked being in the spotlight for long, after all. And he wants. 
He finds all of your scars, from the arena. From before the arena, too. He maps them out, painstakingly, mimicking the way you'd kissed him all over earlier. Sensitive, he notes, when you make a small noise when his thumbs find your nipples. Soft, he observes, as his fingers slip underneath your waistband, moving lower. 
Soon, you're completely exposed, and he is too. 
Peeta pays more attention to certain parts of you— your thighs, your chest— but he doesn't skip over anything in particular. He wants to know everything; he wants to learn everything. And he's eager to learn. By the time he reaches the spot between your legs, you're already wanting for him. You've grown needy from his kisses, his caresses. You can feel him against your thigh— he's just as needy as you. 
His fingers are clumsy, at first. But they're strong, and you guide him. One, then two. Then another. His breath is loud, and he hums, biting his lower lip at your quiet moan after you tell him how to crook his fingers. You jolt when he finds your clit, paying careful attention to it while he works you open. 
At your whispered insistence, he grips himself by the base— already having put on protection— you don't care enough to ask exactly how he obtained it— and he pushes in. The groan he lets out sounds like it's been punched from his gut. 
He sets a slow, measured pace. Almost awkward at first, but he's a fast learner. He learns what angle makes you spread your legs wider for him. You wouldn't even use fucking to describe what you're doing— somehow, that word's too rough. He kisses you, nose bumping against yours. Most of your noises are muffled against his lips, but he takes them all the same. He absorbs them, and drinks them in. Drinks you in. 
"Peeta," you sigh, and he breathes your name in return, before ducking to kiss your shoulder. Your collarbone. Your neck. 
He comes first, twitching, pulsing deep within you. He stifles his whimper by tucking his face into the divot between your shoulder and your neck— but you can still feel it. You help him ride it out, until his thrusts falter, and his hips still. 
It's a few moments of limbo, in which he catches his breath. He meets your eyes. His are hazy, half-lidded. He kisses you. 
Then, he pulls out— disposes of the garbage, of course— and wastes no time in making his way down your body, to where you need him most. 
You're certain that he's never eaten anybody out before, but he's a natural. He's enthusiastic— much more so than when he was inside you. This is just for your pleasure, now. When you thread a hand through his tousled hair, he moans into you, increasing his efforts tenfold. He doesn't care for the mess— or the noise, as he laps at you. He doesn't even care for his own need to breathe. Peeta just wants to give. 
His brow is furrowed in concentration as he rapidly pulls you closer to orgasm. You can do little but take. And when you finally topple over your peak— 
"—that's so good, ah— Peeta, I'm gonna— ohh—" 
You cry out, heat rolling low in your abdomen— gathering, passing through your entire body. 
You float on blissful waves, and he licks at you through it all. For a single, brief moment, your mind is perfectly calm. 
When you relax, the warmth steadying to a hum, he notices and stops working at you. He wriggles a little, and leans forward to rest his chin on your stomach while you catch your breath. You can feel his, too, and it's hot on your skin. Peeta seems reluctant to take his eyes off you just yet. 
It's quiet, you register. You're reluctant to ruin it, but he looks pretty messy. 
"I should get you a towel or something," you say. 
He cracks a smile, his eyes softening. "Should you?" 
"Yeah." You're powerless not to return it. "But, you know, for me to get the towel, you have to get off me." 
"So demanding." 
You let out a short, offended sound. "Hey, that's just—" 
"I'm getting up." And he does. 
It doesn't take long to clean up, and the obnoxious white fluorescent lights of the bathroom don't blind you for long. Again, Peeta looks on while you wipe off his face— this close, you notice how brilliantly blue his eyes are. You notice the precise angles of his jaw. His cheek. He's probably doing the same to you— tracing the contours of your face. 
To your relief, you're back in his bed a few minutes later. He completely shuts off the lights, flicking off his bedside lamp, and then crawls under the duvet with you. You're not sure if it's creepy or weird to enjoy it, but everything here smells like him. A sort of earthy, warm scent. Even though you're both well aware of the multiple floral shampoos that the Capitol has to offer— he still retains that one thing. 
You're comfortable. You're safe. 
Peeta wraps his arms around you from behind. 
You're not sure if you should say something or not, but he does it first. 
"You'll stay?" Whispered, into the stillness. 
"Of course." Without hesitation. 
His grip tightens, almost imperceptibly. 
"Thank you," he breathes.  
The words are stuck in your throat. 
You can't bring yourself to say them, even though you know you'd mean them. Every single syllable. 
But you have time. You can tell him tomorrow, even. Or the day after that. Tonight, you didn't say it aloud, but you still told him all the same. 
You understand exactly how you feel, just before you drift off. 
You love him. 
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