#Model's radiance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mell0wjello · 1 year ago

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𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓮?

How would the NRC boys fall for their beloved prefect?

! 𝒫𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒻𝒾𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 !

~~~~~~

𝓥𝓲𝓵 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓮𝓷𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓽

Vil was an actor, so naturally he thought that he’d end up with someone within that same field

Oh, to see his face when he caught himself losing sleep over you

Vil was not naive. He knew what was happening, and he hated how much he loved relishing in it

To fall in love was freshening and rejuvenating for Vil.

To stand back and truly admire someone instead of thinking about ways to surpass them was such a refreshing feeling

With you he felt like he could take a break from all his stress. Even if it was simply small talk

You were so straightforward and so honest, it surprised Vil at first. The closer he got, the more he realized that there was hardly anything superficial about you. Your beauty shined through the inside and out. Such a sight for sore eyes at NRC

He insisted on sharing his getting-ready routine with you. He'd share everything he used to. He loved doing your hair and makeup

Does it come as a surprise that his love language is gift-giving and words of affirmation?

He loves showering you with gifts of any sort. Just giving things to you and seeing your face light up is enough to make his day

He'll take any chance he can to compliment you. On the way you dress, the way you did your makeup today, on the score for that very difficult test you were studying for, even on your choice of food at the cafeteria

Vil was pretty confident, so he didn't really try to conceal it, but it wasn't blatant flirting either

Even though it was no secret that other guys on campus had their sights set on you, Vil rarely got jealous. Other bums on campus couldn't really compare, so he was not particularly worried

Vil was the type to give compliments where they were due, but to give them out so freely was a unique situation

The one to observe this first was of course, Rook.

Being around Vil 24/7 allows him to read him like an open book, so he immediately knew as soon as his behavior began to change. And he was all for it. Seeing Vil like this transcended to another level of beauty in Rook's eyes. One he hadn't seen until now

Vil would want to make sure that he is the one taking you out. He is the one picking you up. He'd often be the one to initiate the contact. He's gonna make it very clear that he knows how to treat you right, and that he will

Vil's favorite part of you are your cheeks. They look so soft, and he loves seeing a slight red rise in them when he compliments you or brings you something

Although Vil is very confident in himself, he wouldn't confess right away

He's diligent and hard-working, so he'd try his best to win you over before any of that occurred

Once there was confirmation enough for Vil, he'd take you out somewhere with a nice scenery, a nice floral garden. He'd have the whole thing planned out and rehearsed to ensure it goes as smoothly as possible.

If even after all that you simply don't feel the same way, Vil would be visibly hurt and disappointed, nevertheless, his composure would not falter. He'd offer to take you back to Ramshackle afterward regardless. Vil would feel guilty about the whole thing because he still couldn't take his eyes off you. He couldn't help it. You were radiance to him, an allure he couldn't look away from. But he knew it wasn't right. He'll learn to look away and find beauty in other things

If you feel just like he does, Vil will be very smug about it. He put in the work to win you over, and it's paid off for him. But above all, he'll be so happy to finally know that he has someone that will have faith and trust in him no matter what

Because Vil is an actor and model, he made it clear to you before anything that he'll be busy often and might not always have time on his schedule. He wanted to make sure to establish any boundaries about it with you

Because the time he has with you is uncertain, he always makes sure to spend it in the best way possible. He'll want to spend the whole day with you. He'll take you out on dates to mostly relax. Dates on which he can really just leave his job and his reality behind to simply enjoy the precious time he has with you

Sometimes he'll bring you along to his gigs too.

Vil wasn't jealous before and he certainly isn't now. He knows he's yours and he knows you're his, so he doesn't worry too much

His favorite place to kiss you is your lips. Simple and romantic. He'll bite them a little bit too sometimes

His favorite spot to be kissed on is on the hand. It's very simple and sweet. It's light and genuine

𝓡𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽

Rook is very familiar with love

He can recognize it quickly, so when he began seeing a new kind of beauty within you, he understood

You and Rook had been friends for some time now and he really enjoyed your company. In the beginning, Rook would only observe you from afar before deciding to go up to you. After all, the best hunters acquire the most information they can get about their target before setting out.

He had the majority of your schedule memorized by that time

But after spending so much time with you, he noticed something changed within you. A new kind of beauty radiated from you.

Rook would soon realize that the change wasn't on you, but him

Rook found himself wanting to know more, beyond your conversations and interactions

He observed you on your time off, even as you went to sleep. He’d take photographs from time to time too. He learned all your quirks and everything that makes you tick

He’d find out all your favorite things so that he could bring them to you the next day

For example, if he saw you linger on a specific type of flower at the shop, he’d buy it and offer it to you the later

He can tell where you are by the scent of your perfume. Even if you didn’t put any on today, there would be a faint linger than he would pick up on

Rooks main love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation

He loved fulfilling favors that you asked of him just to see your face light up with joy

Rook, like any good hunter, is good at concealing himself and is hard to read. However, anyone who knew Rook well enough could tell there was a different air about him. He was much more cheery and whimsical than usual

As such, Vil slowly realized what was up with Rook. He seemed more distracted lately, which was unusual for him. When he confronted him about it, Rook was truthful and knew that Vil would figure it out eventually.

Vil encouraged Rook to spend less time “observing” and more time interacting with you

Rook took his advice, but still didn’t shy away from his activities

Rook’s favorite part of you was your face because it was the perfect window to your heart. He was excellent at deciphering what you were thinking just by the expressions you made

Rook strived to shelter your beauty by trying to make each and everyday just a little bit lovelier. Cheering you up on a bad day, taking you out on days on which you were stressed.

Such a shame for such a pretty face to be soiled with discontent

If Rook was to make advances on you, he was going to shoot for the kill. He would not hold back, and would drop slight hints along the way before approaching you for good.

He’d calculate every minute detail. 5:00 o clock he’d come pick you up from Ramshackle, ensuring that the sky was at its best when he arrived. At 5:10, you guys would arrive at this little spot he set up in the woods. He was so thoughtful as to have your favorite flowers, favorite snack, favorite music playing. And it was all lit up with some soft lights. He’s pulling out all the stops

If despite the considerate outing you simply weren’t compatible with Rook, there would be a second in which he would falter and his face bared crystal-clear sorrow. However, he wouldn’t allow you to observe look at him in a moment in which he felt so un-beautiful. Rook would feel guilty to have ruined your friendship, and to have nothing to show for it except a broken heart. Rook would still sometimes come to Ramshackle to watch you sleep peacefully, just to make sure you were ok. Old habits are hard to break.

If you threw your arms around him into an embrace, Rook would lift you up your feet and embrace you back. He’d look at your face in his arms, your expression of delight making it all worth it.

Rook loves to take you on trips and long travels with him. He’d also enjoy showing you his favorite places to visit so that you could fall in love with them too

Unfortunately, Rook would struggle with boundaries at first, but as soon as you talked it through with him he’d be able to grasp them better

He has a bunch of nicknames for you, all in French of course. His usual one would be Mon Amour

He’d be really sappy with the pet names too

Rook could go on hours talking to you, and the best part was that you were willing to listen! Expect a bunch of late-nights talks with him

His favorite spot to kiss you on are your cheeks. They’re so soft and squishy against his lips, such a sweet spot to kiss you on! He also gets to smell your perfume up close

His favorite spot to be kissed on is also the cheek! It’s so simple, but something about it is so charming nonetheless

𝓔𝓹𝓮𝓵 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓶𝓲𝓮𝓻

Epel was completely caught off guard

Falling in love was not a concept that was in his mind often, so he was in complete denial when his heartbeat quickened as you passed by him in the halls.

He refused to believe the rush of heat on his cheeks when you playfully teased him

You? The prefect? The magic-less human who seemed so feeble and defenseless?

He simply couldn’t wrap his head around it. Therefore, he decided it was best to ignore it and shut it down.

But you can only bottle up so much until it all comes spilling out. He couldn’t resist gravitating towards you, and it was beginning to be a disturbance

His grades were dropping. All because he kept staring back at you during the lesson. He hasn’t studied as much, all because he was helping you instead

Despite everything, he couldn’t deny the freedom he felt with you. Epel felt comfortable enough to show you his real personality, and you would never judge him for it

When he was around you, his accent would slip more frequently as well. Not that you minded, but Vil did

Epel was not the only one to notice these changes, his Housewardens did as well. And just by looking at Epel’s flustered reactions, it was no secret to them. The only difference was that they were definitely not in denial about it. Vil and Rook both sighed at this situation and decided that they should at least give him some advice

It was very obvious

If Epel was not going to listen to reason, Vil was gonna drill reason into him. Vil and Rook confronted Epel about his disturbances, forcing him to explain his predicament. If Epel didn’t straighten his composure and stop denying the undeniable facts, Vil would be sure to submit him to his grueling lectures.

Against his will, Epel came to terms with his feelings. It made him feel bashful, but feeling like that wasn't gonna get him anywhere

Instead, of running away he was gonna do something about it

But oh, the way he could feel himself begin to melt when you approached him. Still, he tried his best to keep himself together

Epel's love language is quality time. He loves getting to know you better, as well as sharing things with you

He loves talking about his hometown with you and how proud he is of it. In his mind, he's already thinking about taking you there someday and being able to show you around

His favorite part of you is your hands. They look so gentle and dainty, but at the same time they work hard and can carry so many things too

Epel was initially surprised by your strength, given that your physique wouldn't give that away immediately

Epel wasn't too good at hiding his feelings. He was never around people his age before NRC, and he had never felt like this towards someone before meeting you. He would slip up at times, only to realize it a moment later and try his best to play it off (horribly)

You knew, and everyone knew. Ace, Deuce, and Grim would tease him endlessly about it

However, as much as he wanted to release all his bottled-up emotions, he simply didn't know how to go about it. His Houswardens would urge him to just get it over with, but he was still unsure. He didn't know if you felt the same, and he was kind of afraid of finding out

Epel was definitely not coming forward any time soon, so you decided to be the one to approach him instead. After school, you went to find Epel at his Spelldrive club. You called out to him from across the field. He looked nervous, and a small pink was sifting on his cheeks.

If you regretfully explained that you were not looking for a relationship right now, his eyes would widen and his lips would quiver slightly before apologizing to you. He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for, but it spilled out of his mouth before his mind could refrain. Perhaps it was for making you assume a responsibility that should've been his. Either way, Epel wished to bother you no further. He'd distance himself away, unhappy with the burden he placed on you and irritated at himself for being unable to tell you how he felt himself

If you rushed up to him and excitedly affirmed what you felt too, Epel would be so surprised and elated. To think he had been worrying so much over such a favorable thing. He'd squeak a little as he grasped at your hands to finally feel how comfortable they felt in his.

Epel would finally get to take you around his hometown to show you all the things he had dreamt of showing you

Epel would definitely cut way loose with you, much to Vil's dismay. His accent would leak into your conversations often, and his manners would begin to slack too

He did make a conscious effort to stop this, however, when Vil reprimanded him for it

Lots of gym dates! You guys would go on morning runs daily too

Epel was a bit more shy and reserved about these things, but being around you enabled him to be more open about it

Epel's favorite spot to kiss you on are your hands (who would've guessed?). At the beginning of your relationship, he was much too shy to go for your lips or your cheek, so he chose the next best thing. Since then, that spot has grown on him a lot

Epel's favorite spot to be kissed is his cheek. It reminds him a lot of his home, associating your comforting touch with the warmth of being back in his hometown

~~~~~~

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bucksangel · 9 days ago

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under a ceiling full of stars

pairing: dbf!sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader x dbf!sugar daddy!bucky barnes

word count: 6.2k

summary: You’re learning the hard way that being in love can be difficult, especially since you’re in love with not just one, but two people. Two people who happen to be your father’s friends. Two people who happen to be your sugar daddies. Two people who happen to be married to each other. You’ve been trying not to think too hard about the consequences of falling in love with the men, but everything comes to a head one night when your father catches you with them. And, the ramifications of your secret are far worse than you anticipated. Luckily, Steve and Bucky are determined to make it right.

warnings: 18+ only pls and thank you, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, poly relationship, reader’s father is very verbally abusive so please beware, hints at physical abuse for like a sentence, r’s father is named Paul so i’m sorry to any Paul’s out there, mentions of blood, alot of fluff, and also angst, hurt/comfort, love confessions, happy ending

a/n: i have no idea where this came from but i hope y’all like it!!

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

“Wow.” Bucky is breathless, all the wind knocked out of him as he enters the room. It takes you a moment to notice his presence because you’re too focused on your reflection, eyes locked on the way the fabric of the dress sways as you twist your hips this way and that. It’s a deep red, satin little thing with a plunging neckline, though, not too risque given that the restaurant you’re going to is classier than most. The matching red heels and real gold accessories add to your appeal, and it makes you giddy inside. You don’t really care about others' opinions, but it makes you feel good when you get all dolled up.

Well, you do care about two other people’s opinions on your appearance.

One of those people, Bucky, has saddled up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting his chin rest on your shoulder. Finally, you look up to meet his gaze through the mirror, smiling when you see the mix of hunger and adoration in his eyes. While you know he appreciates you in any attire, you also know that he gets a little extra feral when you’re wearing something he bought for you.

This is the latest purchase. Well, technically, it was Steve’s doing. You three were out shopping – practically a bi-weekly occurrence at this point – when your eyes lingered on the outfit for more than three seconds. And when you didn’t ask for it, Steve decided that he’d buy it and have it shipped to his and Bucky’s house. Their excuse for not sending it directly to your apartment was, of course, that they wanted you to model it for them before they hastily undressed you in an attempt to get at your naked body.

Being with them for the last several months has been exhilarating, though you’re technically just their sugar baby. You’ve tried not to linger on your romantic feelings for the men, considering that they also happen to be your father’s friends, but it’s hard. Oh boy, is it hard not to fall a little in love with them whenever they dote on you, praise you, worship you. For now, you’re just trying to enjoy the time you have together before life inevitably rips you away from them.

“You’re so beautiful, have I ever told you that?” Bucky’s tone is teasing because he has, sometimes multiple times a day if he’s feeling especially sweet on you.

“Oh, only every day,” You tease back, placing your hands on his arms as they wind around your waist, your heart skipping a beat when he threads your fingers through his.

“Every day isn’t enough,” He sighs, almost as though he’s disappointed in himself for not showing you more affection. He then lets go of your hands so that he can turn you in his hold, now facing you directly. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek while the other is placed on your lower back. “I need to tell you every hour how your radiance lights up my day, even when I’m grumpy.”

Giggling, you wrap your arms around his neck, staring into his eyes even as his intense gaze makes you want to squirm. Sometimes you have a hard time believing that they want you, even if it is just for your body and your presence at outings whenever he and Steve get bored with work. But you’ve tried to push those feelings aside, not wanting to self-sabotage the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“You don’t need to tell me every hour, Bucky,” You say, leaning up to peck his lips to silence his objections. “I know just by the way you look at me. Your eyes give you away.”

“Well, I just can’t resist you. Can you blame me, princess?”

“No, I can’t.” Steve appears in the doorway of their bedroom, watching you both with such admiration that this time you do shy away, tucking your face into Bucky’s neck. After a moment, he pushes himself off the door frame, walking up behind you to trap you between their bodies.

“You are beautiful,” Steve murmurs in your ear, kissing your cheek, and then guiding your head up so he can kiss your lips as well. “Our sweet girl, always so perfect for us.”

His words make tears want to spring to your eyes, a stabbing pain in your heart at the sincerity of his words that make you ache for a real relationship with them. It hurts that you can’t be with them the way you want, and not just because of them most likely not feeling the same way. Your father would blow a fuse if he found out about the three of you, and you don’t even want to think about those consequences; just imagining what could happen makes you sick to your stomach.

“What time are the reservations?” For a moment, you consider trying to convince them to stay in tonight, wanting nothing more than to spend all night being pleasured by these two gods among men. But, you know they’ve been dying to take you to this particular restaurant, so you don’t want to dampen their excitement by cancelling.

“We have about twenty minutes before we need to leave,” Steve says after looking at his watch, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

Well, if you can’t stay in tonight, at least you can have some fun before dinner.

The men seem to be thinking the same thing, because Bucky pulls away slowly after pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Keeping eye contact, he kneels on the ground before you, then takes hold of one of your calves, running his hand up and down the soft skin. Steve’s arms wrap around your middle, keeping you upright and steady so that Bucky can lift your leg over his shoulder.

“Bucky,” You sigh, whining a little when he nips at the inside of your thigh.

“It’s alright, baby,” Steve murmurs, delicately kissing your neck. “Let Buck have his dessert.”

Shivers run down your spine, excitement flowing through your veins because you know something that they don’t. While you weren’t planning on revealing the information so soon, you know the evening will be even more fun if they know now.

“You’re not wearing any panties?” Bucky’s gruff voice cuts through your thoughts, and when you look down you can see that he’s hiked up your dress to your hips, exposing your soaked and bare pussy to his hungry eyes. He’s not even looking at you, he’s staring directly at your core, licking his lips as though he’s aching to dive in.

“Naughty girl,” Steve says, one hand staying on your waist while the other travels up to cup one of your breasts. Arching into his touch, you can’t help but whine again, heat filling your body as pure need overtakes your entire being. It’s been far too long since they’ve touched you, which is to say it’s been maybe seven hours. They meticulously took you apart several times that morning, not stopping until you were on the verge of passing out due to the overwhelming amount of orgasms and lack of food since they were insistent on not letting you leave the bed without making you cum at least four times.

“Only for you guys.” It’s true. You’ve never been so bold in any of your other relationships, never daring to do any of the dirty things Steve and Bucky have managed to get you to partake in. And, it’s not because you simply didn’t want to, you’ve just never found anyone that brings out this animalistic side of you, the side that aches to be filled and fucked at every hour of the day, willing to do whatever it takes to get their cocks or tongues or fingers.

“So fucking perfect,” Bucky murmurs, almost to himself. Then, he brings one hand up to your pussy, running his thumb along the slit and chuckling when you gasp and tilt your hips. “Keep her still.”

Steve does as instructed, holding you still so both you and Steve can stare down at Bucky as he leans in, a smirk on his beautiful face because he knows how his hot breath fanning across your wet lips are causing tingles to shoot down your spine. He’s too good at this, too good at drawing things out until you’re desperate and begging for more. Luckily, he doesn’t tease for long, because he must realize you don’t have a lot of time before dinner.

As soon as his tongue dips between your folds to flick over your clit, it’s over. The only way you can describe the way Bucky is licking you is feral. He’s told and shown you over and over again that he could spend hours eating you out, proving that point several times by tying you down and setting timers to see how long he really can last with his tongue buried in your hole.

Four hours, by the way. And it’s not because he doesn’t want to continue, but because you can only take so much. You passed out the first time you played that little game, and the men rewarded you with a cake the next day, the cursive style writing on top reading ‘Thank you for letting me eat you out for hours’. You’re not sure who they got to make it, but it made you laugh, and that’s all that really mattered to them.

Back in the present, you’re surprised when Steve pulls down one of the straps on your dress, tugging it until your breast spills free. Another gasp escapes your lips when he tugs on your nipple at the same time Bucky dips his tongue inside your quivering hole, and already you’re so close to coming. However, with them, it’s not that hard to make you cum. You’re always so easy for them, and no one is mad about it. They love that you’re always ready to spread your legs for them because they’re always eager to pleasure you, to give you the euphoria you deserve.

“You gonna cum, princess?” Steve asks, nipping and sucking your neck. He knows you are, you can hear it in his teasing tone, but you give him an answer any way by nodding your head, leaning back against Steve’s chest and trying - but failing - to thrust your hips into Bucky’s face.

“Give it to me,” Bucky grunts, barely pulling away from your pussy just so he can fit two fingers in your hole. You can feel him smirking against your core, but you’re not even mad at how smug he is. Honestly, he deserves to be; he knows his game is good. His tongue is fucking magic. “Cum all over my face, baby. Let me have it. It’s mine.”

You know you should probably be embarrassed by how quickly you cum considering how not long you’ve been at this, but you can’t find it in you to feel anything other than bliss. They take pride in making you come undone, so you’re never ashamed of how fast they get you to that edge.

Nor are you ashamed of how loudly you moan his name, your orgasm crashing through you when Bucky’s fingers stab at that special spot inside you at the same time he sucks your clit into his mouth. It’s all too much, it’s too good, and your legs are trembling by the time you’re able to run your fingers through his hair and tug him back. A smirk of your own crosses your face when he moans, using his pain kink to your advantage.

Looking further down, you can see how large his bulge is, and you mentally curse the universe for not giving you enough time to get your mouth on him. Steve’s own erection is pressing into your back, and you let your hips roll back into his just to hear him hiss.

“Okay, princess,” Bucky says, a little breathless. His mouth and chin are shiny with your arousal, and your desire to clean him up with your tongue is quickly replaced with another wave of arousal when he stands and leans over your shoulder, carefully dropping your leg to the ground so he can grab the back of Steve’s neck and pull him forward.

You’re not sure which of the men moans when their lips connect; truthfully, it’s probably both of them. Steve wastes no time in licking into Bucky’s mouth, tasting your essence on his partner’s tongue as the kiss turns messy. They seem to be lost in their own worlds, openly moaning and sighing and rutting their hips into you to try to relieve their own need.

It’s not until the alarm on Steve’s phone rings that they break apart, both breathing heavily.

“I guess we should go,” You say with a contented hum, eager to go out now that you’ve had a little taste of the pleasure you know they’re going to bring you tonight.

“I guess we should, princess,” Steve says, kissing your forehead and smiling down at you. “Besides, we booked a corner booth, so we should be good to play a little at the restaurant.”

His wink makes you shiver, filthy thoughts filling your mind as they gather everything you need to leave.

“Another drink?” The waiter approaches your table, nodding to your nearly empty glass of wine, and taking it with a smile as he promises to return soon.

“How’s the food, princess?” Steve asks, sitting on your right with an arm thrown over the bench seat behind your head. He’s nearly finished his plate, as has Bucky, and you would have finished your food if not for their wandering hands distracting you.

“Oh, Stevie, it’s…” Your voice trails off, nerves flooding your body and causing your stomach to become queasy. You’re not sure why you looked away from him, scanning your eyes over the other patrons eating at their own tables, but you did. And you don’t know if you’re glad you did or not.

Because walking toward you is a beautiful young woman, dressed to the nines, with her arm hooked through another man’s arm.

Your father is that man.

While you know that your father frequently goes on dates with various women, you try not to think about it too much. After all, thinking about your father dating just feels weird to you. You don’t particularly mind that he does, but you’ve never known him to come to restaurants like this, which is part of the reason why you agreed to go out in public with Steve and Bucky.

But tonight he’s decided to break his usual routine and bring his date to one of the most exclusive places in Brooklyn, and your heart starts racing with nerves. There is absolutely no way he won’t see you sandwiched between his friends, eating at such a romantic restaurant, and not realize that you’ve been fooling around with them. For a moment, you don’t know what to do. You want to run and hide, maybe even duck down under the table to avoid him, but by the time you’re able to turn your gaze back to Steve, you know it’s too late to do anything other than face the music.

“What is it?” Bucky asks, furrowing his brows in concern. He must have noticed the way you tensed up, your hands becoming clammy as you disentangle them from his.

“My… My father -”

“Steve?” Your father’s voice cuts through your own frantic thoughts. Steve is sitting closest to the outside, so of course, he’s seen first. And Steve’s eyes widen when he hears the booming voice of his friend getting closer and closer.

“H-Hey,” Steve says, not at all confident. Clearly, he’s a little worried about how this will play out, too. And that does nothing to quell the anxiety fogging your mind.

“What are you…” Your father trails off, finally stopping at your table and locking eyes on you. You’re not looking at him, though, you can’t. You don’t want to see the confusion and anger in his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

You know he’s talking to you, that tone sending unpleasant shivers through your body as you tense even further. It’s not as mean as it usually is, but you figure he’s trying to control himself due to being in public. Knowing that you’re in public doesn’t do much to help, though, because you know you’ll eventually have to face him alone, and you’re absolutely dreading that conversation.

“We, um -”

“I’m not talking to you, James,” Your father spits out, noting how close he is to you, as well as Steve’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. “What are you doing here with them? Why are they touching you like that?” He asks you again, malice laced in every word. Tears spring to your eyes, and you can already feel the beginnings of a panic attack taking over.

“Dad, please don’t make a big deal out of this.”

“Don’t make a big deal?” He’s on the verge of shouting, and you can see nearby patrons looking over with curiosity, some with concern. “I shouldn’t make a big deal over my daughter getting cozy with my friends? How long has this been going on?”

“Paul, please -”

“Shut up, Steve!” Your father snaps at him, and you can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline. “How long have you been whoring yourself out to them?”

“Dad, stop!”

“Paul!” Bucky snaps back, straightening up. If you looked at him, you’d notice the confusion contorting his face at how your father is speaking to you, and you’re reminded once again that no one knows of the horrors your father has put you through.

“No,” Your father yells, and you have to shuffle a little awkwardly so you can get around Steve and slide out of the booth.

“Please, don’t do this in public, Dad.” Your begging seems to work on some level, because your father stops yelling. But now that you’re close to him, he’s able to grab your wrist.

“Fine, we’ll do this at home.” Your father’s eyes are aflame with what can only be described as rage. Even though you knew he wouldn’t have a good reaction to finding out you’ve been sleeping with his friends, you didn’t really expect him to be this fired up. Especially in public.

You don’t even get to say goodbye to Steve and Bucky before he’s pulling you along with him, dragging you out of the entrance in silence as he shoots glares at you.

It’s silent the entire drive back home, and your heart hasn’t stopped pounding relentlessly even as he doesn’t pay you any mind. It’s nerve-wracking in the worst possible way, knowing that tonight is not going to go well makes you want to curl up under your bed like you used to when you were a child and he would get too drunk and loud. Only now, you’re an adult. And you can’t get out of this by hiding until he’s calmed down.

Everything is quiet, that is, until you both get inside.

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Your father doesn’t even let the door shut before he’s shouting, following you into the living room as you toss your heels off. “They’re married, for fucks sake! Why were you draping yourself all over them? How long have you been fucking them? How long have you been hiding this from me?”

“Dad, if you would just let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to explain!” He cuts you off, spinning you around to face him. When you’re a child, everything is much scarier than it actually is. Everything is bigger, louder, more intense, and as an adult, you can still vividly remember all the nights you would sleep in your closet because your father turned into some monster that would stop at nothing to degrade you, and you just wanted to get away from him.

Right now, he’s worse than anything you’ve ever experienced. Though he’s never hit you, you wouldn’t doubt that he would do it tonight.

“You don’t need to tell me anything, because you’ll just lie to me. You’re a fucking slut! I mean, what were you thinking, sleeping with two married men? You clearly weren’t thinking with your brain because if you were, then you’d realize that you’re just wasting your time with them. You’ve been out here whoring yourself out to them, and probably more men. How many men have you let use you? I know it’s not just them!”

“Dad! No, it - it’s not like that!” You’re surprised you can even talk due to how heavily you’re crying, the sheer panic that has poisoned your blood that’s making you worry over passing out.

Distantly, you can hear a pounding at the front door, but clearly your father doesn’t because his grip on your arm tightens when you go to answer the knock.

“Don’t fucking leave when I’m trying to talk to you!” Spittle flies from his lips as he continues to scream at you, and you duck your head as though that will protect you from his ire. Another knock at the door causes his head to whip up, glaring at the front door as though he can will away whoever decided to interrupt.

“Go away!” He yells, turning back to you and shaking you as if that will get you to listen to him. “If I ever see you with them again I’ll -”

A loud bang stops your father in his tracks, the front door swinging open as Bucky and Steve rush in to find you with your makeup ruined by your tears and your father’s harsh grip on your arm.

“Paul! What the fuck?” Steve’s shout is almost as loud as your father’s, and the men barrel forward as they try to quickly assess the situation.

“Go away!” Your father yells again, and you wince when his grasp tightens. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”

“Paul, please. Just calm down,” Bucky is trying to be levelheaded, but out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his clenched fists. Knowing that they’ve come to help does make your beating heart calm down a little, but you know it won’t last. Your father will just throw them out and continue berating you.

“No!” Your father shouts, shaking your arm again. “Don’t try to pretend you actually care about her!” Turning to you, he leans even further into your space. “They don’t care about you, and they never will. You’re nothing more than a whore.”

“Paul!” Both Steve and Bucky move forward, but your father just drags you back.

“We do care about her -”

“No you fucking don’t!” Your father cuts Steve off, and there are too many emotions swirling through your head, there’s too much noise, everything is just too much. The yelling, the degradation, the complete chaos of the night are crescendoing into madness.

“Stop!” You yell through your sobbing, trying desperately to yank your arm out of your father’s hand. The action does nothing but force your father to hold you even tighter so you can’t escape, and you’re surprised you’re still conscious due to how heavy you’re breathing and how cloudy your mind is. “Please, everyone, stop!”

“Shut up!” Your father is about to go off again, but then Steve yanks your father off of you, pushing him back as Bucky steps in front of you to protect you from the punch your father throws at Steve.

He misses because Steve simply steps to the side, but that seems to make him angrier, obviously itching to take out his rage on someone. He swings again, but this time Steve catches his arm, blocking the hit and pushing your father to the ground. The thud of him hitting the ground makes you flinch, curling into Bucky’s back as though you can disappear to a place where this isn’t happening, where your world hasn’t been turned completely upside down.

“Why do you think you can talk to your own daughter this way?” You’ve never heard Steve so angry; he’s fuming, really. And even though you can’t see him, you know his face is twisted with a kind of infuriation you could never imagine. “You don’t have any right to talk down to her like this.”

“She’s my fucking daughter!” Your father shouts back, and by the sounds of shuffling, you assume that he’s standing again, presumably to continue the fight. “I can talk to her however I want! Besides, you two are just using her anyway, so what do you -”

You’ve never heard anyone being punched; you know that it can be a sickening crunch, a loud thud, but you’ve never actually heard it for yourself until tonight. For a moment, you’re worried that your father hit Steve, but when your father yelps in pain, you know it was the other way around. And you have never known Steve to be even remotely violent, but something in him must have snapped when your father said that they were using you. At least you can take comfort in knowing that they won’t let you continue to be verbally abused.

“You don’t know anything, Paul,” Bucky grunts through clenched teeth, turning so he can wrap his arms around you and tuck your face into his chest. You can feel him shaking with anger, and you know he must want to join Steve in hurting your father. Your hands clenching his suit jacket prevent him from moving, though, so he keeps holding you.

“You know what? Fine! If you want her to be your whore then do it, but it won’t happen under my roof.” Risking a glance up, you see your father lying on the ground and bleeding heavily from his nose. When he sees you looking at him, he points a finger at you. “Get out! Get out and don’t fucking come back!”

Suddenly, black spots cloud your vision. You were already on the verge of passing out, but now the fear of being kicked out and on your own makes you heave as you gasp for breath.

“Bu-Bucky,” You whimper, almost too low for anyone to hear, but Bucky hears you. And he must notice how distraught you are because he quickly hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you to cradle you to his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” He coos at you, kissing your forehead, then nodding to Steve. “I’ll take her to the car.”

You can barely hear anything over the ringing in your ears, but you can make out your father’s “Good riddance!” through the fog. Sobs wrack your body, and you can’t stop crying even when Bucky carries you outside, not even when he opens the car door and sets you down on the seat, not even when you cling to him because you crave his comfort. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, shaking in Bucky’s arms as he tries to console you, but you know it must be a while.

You don’t even notice when Bucky takes your hands and places them on his chest, rubbing the backs of your hands and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. Eventually, you’re able to make out a few words, mostly just “breathe, baby” and “it’s okay” and “listen to my voice.” It’s hard to shake yourself out of your panic, but you’re able to recognize that Bucky is doing his best to calm you down, so you follow his instructions and begin to slow your breathing, inhaling and exhaling when he does, until you can finally take notice of your surroundings. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you lift your head, wanting to start crying all over again when you see that your makeup has ruined Bucky’s jacket.

“I-”

“Don’t apologize,” Bucky says, already knowing what you were going to say. “I don’t care about the suit, all I care about is making sure you’re okay.”

Both of you sigh, and you hang your head in an attempt to get away from the sympathy etched across his face. You don’t want to see it right now, you’re too muddled with emotions to be able to even understand that this is the first time anyone has seen the way your father treats you.

“What am I going to do, Bucky? I - I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You’re staying with us,” Steve says, appearing behind Bucky holding a suitcase. “I grabbed your essentials, and Buck and I will come back tomorrow for the rest of your things.” He’s still clearly fired up, and you can see that his hands are a little more bloodied and bruised than they were when you were taken away from the argument.

“Steve, I can’t -”

“You’re not burdening us.” Just like Bucky, Steve is able to read your mind, and once he puts the suitcase in the trunk of the car, he scoots Bucky out of the way so he can take your face in his hands. “You’re not a burden to us. And you’re certainly not a whore, or any of the other awful things he said to you.”

You want to cry again, but you can’t, you’re simply too drained to do anything other than hold his wrists so he’ll keep touching you. Looking into his eyes, your bottom lip trembles, and you lean up to press a small kiss on his chin.

“You promise?” Your voice is small and, quite frankly, a little pathetic. You hate that you have to ask for reassurance that you’re not all those horrible things your father said to you, but you need the confirmation, you need to know that at least someone doesn’t think of you the way your father does.

“We promise.” Steve leans down and kisses your forehead, brushing his lips across your cheeks to dry them off before pecking your lips.

“Now, let’s go home.”

When you finally get to Steve and Bucky’s house - well, yours now, too - you make a dash to the bathroom, anxious to get out of your clothes and wash your face. Once you get to the bathroom, you toss out the idea of a shower; you don’t have the energy to do anything other than wipe your makeup off and rip the dress from your body. Mentally, you mourn the loss, the dress was beautiful, after all. But you don’t care that much right now, you don’t actually know what you’re feeling. Almost numbly, you look into the mirror, staring at your reflection. You know the person staring back at you is you, but you don’t quite comprehend it.

A knock at the door shakes you from your thoughts, and even though your naked form usually causes the men to drool, they don’t try anything when you open the door and step out, immediately shivering from the air conditioning. Bucky stands in front of you, helping you into one of his casual shirts while Steve appears with a pair of your underwear, also aiding you in putting those on. When you’re dressed, you avoid their gazes, fiddling with your fingers as you try to figure out how you’re going to go about this.

“Can… Can we go outside?” Your voice is so small that you think of asking again, just to make sure they heard you, but they show that they were listening by Bucky lifting you in his arms again.

“Of course we can, princess,” Steve says softly, rubbing your cheek with his thumb before stepping aside and following you down the stairs and to the back garden.

Normally, you love coming out here, especially at night. The stars always seem to shine brighter in Steve and Bucky’s backyard, and their lounge chairs and strung-up fairy lights make you feel at home. Tonight, you can’t really muster up those positive emotions, you just want to forget the night even happened. But, you know you have some explaining to do.

Once you’re sitting on one of the couches with both men on either side of you, you stare up at the sky, jumping ever so slightly when they both cover your hands with theirs. Neither of them says anything, though, allowing you to take the lead.

But, where do you even start? You’re not sure quite how to explain it to them, but when Steve gives you his ever-loving smile, you know you need to try.

“He… My father has never been the best man, you know? He puts on a facade for the world, volunteering, hosting parties, holiday bonuses at work, and all that. But, he’s never been… He’s never been that way with me. Everything is always my fault. I can’t do anything right. If I lose a boyfriend, it’s because I’m too ugly; if I failed a test in school, it’s because I was too stupid; if I make even one mistake, then it’s because I’m incompetent. Nothing I ever do is good enough for him, and he always makes sure I know that.”

You have to pause so you can sniffle, looking away from Steve so you can look up at the twinkling stars again. Tightening your grip on their hands, you take a shaky breath.

“It’s always been like this. And I never told anyone because no one can do anything about it anyway. He never hit me, and everyone thought he was just the perfect guy, so no one would believe me anyway. I, I just…” You have to shut your eyes, more tears causing them to sting. “I’ve been dealing with him for so long. And even if you guys did believe me, I didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him.”

Glancing between the men, you whimper a little, your bruised heart cracking when you see how utterly horrified they are.

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Princess,” Steve sighs, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not going to lose us, ever.”

“Everything he said to you was wrong, baby,” Bucky continues, kissing your temple and letting you lean on his shoulder. “You’re not a whore, and we most certainly weren’t using you. We care about you.”

“We love you,” Steve says, and time seems to slow down. Your eyes find his, desperately searching for any hints of humor because you wouldn’t be able to handle them lying to you just to make you feel better. But you don’t find any humor. You don’t see anything but love etched onto his face. He means it when he says it, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. Not necessarily because the situation is funny, you just don’t know how tonight has once again flipped your world around.

“You do?”

“Of course we do,” Bucky says, soft and low, like it’s just for you. “We love you so much, baby. We never said anything because we didn’t know how you felt, and we didn’t want to lose you either. But… After tonight, Steve and I both know that there’s no way we can hide it any longer.”

All at once, despite the trauma of the night's events, a huge smile makes its way onto your face. You can’t really feel anything other than love, love from them and for them. You never expected them to feel the same way you do, and you never expected it to come to light like this, but you’re a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. So, even though you’re still upset, you let yourself fall into your new life, a life filled with Bucky and Steve and love and care.

“I love you, too.” Both men almost immediately let out sighs of relief, like they were hoping you would return the sentiment. But how couldn’t you? They’re the perfect men, always so kind, caring, making sure you’re warm and safe. It’d be impossible not to fall in love with them. After a few moments of contented silence, you turn so you can kiss Bucky’s lips, then shift so you can kiss Steve, too.

“So, I’m really living here?”

“If you want to,” Steve says, though by his tone, you know he really wants you to say yes.

“We’ll set up the spare room if you don’t want to sleep in our bed,” Bucky pipes up, running his thumb along the back of your hand. “But we want you here. We always will.”

“And if I do want to sleep in your bed?” You know that they want that too, but you enjoy teasing them anyway.

“Then we’ll get some more of those fluffy pillows you like and clear off some shelves in our room for your things.” Steve sounds so sure, and knowing that he’s clearly thought this over makes you all soft and giddy.

“Well, that’s settled then.” It’s clear that you’re tired just by your voice, not to mention the big yawn you let out, but no one makes a move to go inside. Instead, you all adjust yourselves so you can sit sideways on Bucky’s lap with your legs thrown over Steve’s, happy to sit under a ceiling full of stars and ruminating on the love you have for your men.

And if you accidentally fall asleep tucked into their bodies, well, it’s not like they’re anxious to move either.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky #stucky imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #my writing #my stuff

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httpsdana · 6 months ago

Text

Kenan Yildiz Masterlist

fluff ♡

angst ☾

hurt/comfort ✧

Game on ♡

Pretty Eyes ♡

Our Little Family ♡

Sunshine and Grumbles ♡

Post Game Surprise ♡

Cozy Evening ♡

Close Tonight ♡

My Foolish Forever ♡

Dreams of Forever ♡

Undeniable ♡

What Could've Been ☾♡

Beneath The Surface ✧

Warm Silhouettes ♡

Daylight ♡

Spotlight ♡

Reserved Radiance ♡

Green-eyed ♡

A Soft Place to Fall ♡

Hidden ☾♡

Carried Away ♡

Shoulder To Shoulder ♡

Behind the Screen ♡

Boyfriend!Kenan x Model!reader Headcanon

When It's You ♡

Silent Regrets ☾

Bookworm ♡

Dancing Neighbors ♡

Dimples Bloom ♡

Don't Look ♡

Not Fair ♡

Teenage Skin ♡

Sweet Traditions ♡

Breaking Point ✧

After the Shift ♡

Say Something ☾✧

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rosiesmuts · 2 years ago

Text

Muse

Le Serrafim Kazuha

4,000 Words

A/N: KazuhaSmuts?

Kazuha Nakamura. Fuck. The gorgeous idol your new muse, her beauty transcending what the camera can capture, able to take your breath away with those curves and bright smile. A consummate professional, striking poses without needing direction, a sense for it without experience, the pictures coming out flawless.

Even in basic jeans and a t-shirt, Kazuha exudes a beauty, a hotness that has nothing to do with being an idol. Her confidence is stunning and her sensuality is electrifying—not something manufactured for a photoshoot but inherent and undeniable. You're standing next to a goddess. Absolutely gorgeous face, captivating eyes, voluptuous curves, and a charm she's too comfortable with. There's no effort there, no faux coyness or intentional sultry look. Just the radiance of a stunning idol who seems almost oblivious to what she inspires, but you can tell from the heat in Kazuha's gaze and her naughty grin, a mischievous desire swirling around in her that she'll never speak out loud—she has you enthralled.

So fuck.

Fuck these lustful thoughts clouding your head and this heat building in your chest. This is supposed to be a job, but when Kazuha reaches for the hem of her shirt and the lines of muscles accentuating her abs as her t-shirt peels up, that desire inside you is more than unprofessional.

Focus.

Fuck.

This is part of the shoot, supposed to show off the 'Calvin Klein' on her sports bra, but the flexing of her body and the little curl on her smiling lips leaves the underwear an afterthought. You should've been used to this, there's been legitimate supermodels in even less clothing in these photoshoots. But there's something about Kazuha, her innocent smiles and demure laughter, this aura of untouchable and almost fragile femininity about her.

And she's fucking teasing you, those faint lip curls, the flash of teeth from her smirk. She knows her effect, she enjoys your lingering eyes and hungry looks. An arm folded up above her head, leaning against the wall as her other hand grips a rolled up shirt, an underwear ad waiting to happen. Everything about Kazuha screams confidence and sensuality, even her long toes, wiggling a bit for some reason as her smirk broadens, the look in her eyes daring you, almost like she's trying to say something she cannot voice.

Kazuha tilts her head, pulling her lower lip between her teeth, tugging on it, biting into it. Seducing with the barest hints, challenging and inciting with the slightest of moves. It feels almost too intimate and that makes it all the more intoxicating, making the breath hitch in your throat and your heart race in anticipation.

"Cut!"

You have to shout out, the sexual tension overbearing and suffocating. "Let's take an hour for lunch everyone. Good work today, we got a lot of good shots." Your voice is steady, hiding your tumultuous feelings as best as possible. Kazuha beams at the praise and your façade of control crumbles as she teases and tempts you even further, giving a flirtatious wink before slipping into her dressing room.

It's a bit of a walk for you to get to your office, but it gives you space to think about what's gotten into you. This is just a photoshoot, you've dealt with plenty of sexy and beautiful models in much more scandalous poses. Kazuha was in plain clothes! There shouldn't have been anything erotic there. And yet the way the fabric hugged her body, her eyes watching your every move, and that flirty edge to her smile, it was impossible to ignore. Even now your mind's lingering on the last image of Kazuha, staring you down.

One hour to gather yourself. That's what you need—to take your mind off of those...impurities. Kazuha, even her name in your head makes your heart quicken and breath shorten. Just get a hold of yourself. No one can read your mind, and as long as you don't go acting out any of those lurid desires then this'll all just blow over...

"Hey."

You didn't even hear your door open, Kazuha's sweet voice catching you off-guard. Your eyes snap towards her, the entire reason for your break now standing in the office, Kazuha's free hand runs through her hair, this act of playing shy a fascinating dichotomy with the sultry woman you just worked with this morning.

All that build-up and time spent thinking about her left you absolutely stunned by Kazuha's entrance. For the second time she managed to catch your heart in your mouth, freezing your tongue and leaving you speechless.

"Can we go over those pictures that you took? I'd like to see them if that's okay?"

Her request is innocent enough, but you can't help but notice she locks the door behind her. A simple, innocent click of the lock, but the implication was very clear.

Kazuha leans in a bit too closely, a subtle grin as she clicks through the pictures and you're not quite sure if this was real or all your dirty imagination playing tricks on you. Did she really just touch your wrist and give it a squeeze or was she just checking the time and brushed by you accidentally?

Kazuha sits in silence, taking a cursory look at every frame before getting to the next. The silence is more than suffocating. You can barely hear anything outside the pounding in your ears. She stops the slideshow on the most salacious photo: Kazuha lifting her top, the slightest hint of her sports bra, her perfect abs captured so wonderfully on film.

"This one is good! Don't you agree?" Kazuha asks, tilting her head at you and pulling her lip in between her teeth, letting her eyes drag languidly down your figure, devouring you in the most erotic manner with just her gaze alone.

"...yeah..." is all you manage to stammer out, voice stuck in your throat and thoughts wandering in places they really shouldn't.

"Don't think I didn't catch you staring..."

Kazuha steps back, reenacting the shot that got you so worked up—her fingers reach the hem of her shirt, inching the garment up, more and more of her perfect abdomen getting revealed, tight lines that curve and ripple in a tantalizing dance, begging for someone to run their tongue across the slopes and dips of her stomach.

Fuck.

This was supposed to be an hour to gather your thoughts and recompose yourself, not go further into disarray with Kazuha standing in front of you. You lick your lips, a futile attempt to bring some moisture back into a dry mouth as your hands instinctively go into your pockets to prevent anything from going out of place.

This time it's different, Kazuha takes her shirt completely off, the gray Calvin Klein sports bra fully visible, hiding her tiny tits from view. It's a feast for the eyes—the flexing of her abs, the dip of her waist, that sensual confidence in every twitch and curl of her muscles.

"Whoops." Kazuha playfully teases, acting like the removal of the t-shirt is accidental, a casual display of carelessness. Her bottom lip between her teeth, holding it hostage and pressing it between her pearl white teeth. That stare, dark brown and chocolate eyes swallowing you whole and consuming you.

It becomes clear as day, the flirting and lustful looks were no joke, an honest come-on from this hotter-than-hot idol. And you could lose everything right here and right now, the implications and consequences could be catastrophic, but when her hand lands on yours, giving you a gentle caress, it's hard not to succumb.

"It's impolite to stare, Mr. Photographer," Kazuha coos. Your hands find her sides, fingertips digging in, unable to hold back anymore. Years of ballet, and now dancing to her own music and choreography, there is nothing less than admirable in her sculpted body, each muscle firm but toned.

The pads of your thumbs feel the ridges, tracing the defined lines, slowly climbing higher and higher.

"Such a naughty man."

Kazuha gives her own belly a featherlight caress, your hands slip underneath the elastic of her bra. Hot flesh greets your palms and her tiny tits are barely enough for a squeeze, so smooth and soft and absolutely perfect. Her nipples harden immediately, small and sensitive, crying out for attention, pinched by your fingers.

This is beyond unprofessional, absolutely irresponsible, a blight on everything a photographer should be—to have their hands under their model's clothes and get so engrossed with someone they've only known for a day. But, fuck. You could always find another job. Just touching and playing with Kazuha though—a chance of this sort of happiness would be gone forever.

The choice becomes clear the moment Kazuha kisses you, hungrily swallowing any excuses and closing any chance of leaving. The way she claims you is exhilarating, overwhelmingly powerful in that seductive passion as she claims ownership with her tongue, overtaking every bit of hesitation and apprehension in your soul and planting a seed of raw, unfiltered lust in the empty void.

Your excitement is evident, something hard is pressed against her thigh.

"Is it just a big camera down there, Mr. Photographer?" A tsk-tsk leaves Kazuha's lips, those dirty, dirty, beautiful lips, and that haughty smile plastered on her face while her fingers nimbly undo your pants. "Naughty, naughty Mr. Photographer!" Kazuha hums the words into your ear, tickling you, making your skin shiver in delight and electrifying you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

Her lips are on your neck, her hand is wrapped around your cock. It's all too much—this sexy, gorgeous, brilliant, sensual woman, taking everything with the same enthusiasm and conviction that she'd do in a song and a dance.

Each kiss on your body feels like the brush of the lips of an angel, her hands roaming your body, a subtle hint of her sharp, immaculate nails, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin.

She leaves you panting, a broken record of sighs and low moans until she releases your erection.

"Take off my pants for me Mr. Photographer."

Her words are quiet, her tone more husky than anything else, a hint of arrogance and self-indulgence. A direct command with no room for disobedience. Her back is against the wall, her hips jutted out for easy access— the baggy jeans easily fall off her legs, revealing her toned dancer's physique. Her thick thighs flexing in anticipation, the matching Calvin Klein panties the only obstacle standing in between you and heaven.

Her sexiness is something else, the shapely, sinful outline of her ass, the swell of her curves—that v-line is a mouthwatering treat, teasing with the prospect of a delight waiting to be explored. Everything on Kazuha is toned and breathtaking.

There is no thought, no plan. Pure primal instinct urges you forward, kneeling to run your tongue along that delicious path leading straight down to heaven and bliss and everything you could possibly desire. Your lips press against her stomach, her coy smile grows as you kneel before her, fingers in her elastic waistband, pulling and dragging it down.

Inch by inch, her lower half comes into view and you can't contain yourself any longer.

"Fuck..." the curse slips from you, involuntarily and inevitable, and the sight in front of you is breathtaking: her pussy is absolutely perfect, full and engorged, aching for touch, drooling in obvious desire.

Teasing kisses are planted on the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer. She gives a slight groan. That sweet taste of victory. Lips upon lips. Tongue against slit. Kazuha is an impatient one, her hands cradling your head, locking you into position, the silky lips rubbing against yours. The roughness with which her hips move excites you, how desperately she pushes her crotch against your mouth. She's not shy at all, each and every movement bold and intentional, greedy and ravenous, entirely unlike her demure, innocent persona.

It's hard not to enjoy this, enjoying her unbridled desire—getting suffocated by her muscular thighs squeezing the sides of your face, her cunt grinding against you, leaving her delicious nectar all over your lips and chin. The more she pushes, the more she suffocates, the more excited and aroused you become, fingers sinking into the flesh of her thighs. It is as if your life depended on tasting her juices, that tart ambrosia from this sultry dancer and songstress, an aphrodisiac you'll never tire of.

Kazuha puts a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle those wanton sounds but failing to completely hide those telltale grunts and moans—her toes curling just another sign. The closer she gets, the tighter her thighs squeeze and... Fuck. If you're gonna die, this is probably the best way to go.

Kazuha shudders in ecstasy, a full body spasm while a cry of pleasure slips free from those luscious pink lips. It's too tempting not to explore her with your fingers as well, the little nub throbbing and aching for stimulation, eagerly twitching whenever your fingers circle it. There is a wild and untamed ferocity to the way Kazuha's legs instinctively curl and flex, writhing in unhindered bliss.

She leans back, pushing more weight into her back, holding herself up on shaking legs and heavy breaths. A sense of victory floods you. She was putty in your hands, her beautiful legs shaking and knees wobbling. Your pride swelled—to have the otherwise impeccably poised songstress a shivering mess.

"That... Was..." Kazuha struggles to talk, the red on her cheeks running down her chest and spreading down her heaving abs. "...Fucking amazing," she pants, her adorable smile permanently fixed on her beautiful face, lips parted just slightly.

Fuck.

Absolutely beautiful.

Her appearance is entrancing. Those warm, dark brown eyes with a sly, playful expression. Plush pink lips pulled into a sultry smirk, teasing, as her hair cascades behind her shoulders. Kazuha pulls you back up, staring you directly in the eye, full of sensual promise.

"I think you deserve a reward, Mr. Photographer," Kazuha says between languid strokes of your cock. Those talented fingers tease you, squeezing and pumping with precision, hitting every one of your buttons, a cocky, knowing glint in her eyes. You're not one to stand idly by, reaching for her sides, massaging her hips and brushing along her waist.

This is not a slow and drawn-out affair. Every touch between the two of you is desperate and fiery, full of passion and an intense need to feel more and more—needing to satisfy your hunger. Her arms reach above her head and you finally toss away that pesky sports bra. Perky nipples beg to be teased and kissed.

You give her pecs a light lick before blowing cool air onto her sensitive, pointed peak. She mewls in response. Each tug on her nipple accompanied by a sultry cry from Kazuha. She's trapped, sandwiched between the wall behind her and your body, held hostage by pleasure. But one simple phrase and she takes back all control.

"Fuck me."

Two simple words. The most beautiful ones. Commanding and fierce. Kazuha doesn't beg. Kazuha doesn't ask. There's no softness in her tone, she knows what she wants and there will be no deterring her. The tip of your hard, aching cock slides across Kazuha's slick folds, smearing her juices, gliding up and down as your shaft teases her clit.

It takes all your willpower to hold back, you want this to last forever. A huge part of you doesn't believe this is actually happening and that this is all just a fever dream. But when your tip first enters her wet, hot heat, nothing feels more real and certain. There's tight, and there's this—Kazuha a woman who spends hours working out her core and performing exhaustive dance routines every single day. There's nothing tighter or better than this goddess's cunt.

Every single movement is an explosion of sensations: her inner muscles flexing and squeezing, gripping, the sensual gyrations of her hips, the shallow thrusting—this is pure perfection. Your head spins, drunk from the desire, the high of fucking this diva, being enticed by every subtle thing about Kazuha and all of it's pure insanity, almost terrifying and too unreal. You lean in, pressing against her body and giving yourself up to her.

It's a paradise that no mortal should ever be worthy of entering. That is what her cunt feels like: Heaven's gates. Something out of this world. It's like all the blood is leaving your head. That carnal desire that's been built up is now set loose in this debauchery, your primal urges taking over.

Fuck the consequences.

Nothing matters right now but this.

Each thrust into Kazuha elicits a cute, soft moan, her tongue hanging loosely from her lips and her eyes fluttered shut in bliss. Her nails dig into your back, the painful searing feeling mixes perfectly with the sweet pleasure coursing through your body. There's no gentleness or love, nothing other than lust and passion. Flesh against flesh.

Kazuha pushes you back, a naughty expression painted all over her face, pupils wide and tongue licking her lips.

"Wanna see a trick?"

There's no time to respond, her leg lifted into the air, showing off her flexibility and resting on your shoulder. This angle is unreal. You have no idea how she manages to keep her balance, especially when it allows you to slide even deeper into her cunt. The change is striking and her hands clasp over her mouth, failing to stifle a long, loud moan.

It's as impressive as it is erotic, using her ballet skills as a sexual advantage. Each pump in is pure pleasure, so hot and wet, you're drowning in her. Her walls clench and squeeze around your cock, as if she can't bear to let it leave, unwilling to relinquish your presence from her cunt.

"You're making me-" her words are cut off, Kazuha biting down hard on your shoulder in her attempt to stop the cry of passion. A hand wraps around her ankle, gripping her leg, hoisting her a little higher for even deeper thrusts. Her thighs and legs flex, locking you into place, keeping you there as she throws her head back in pleasure.

Kazuha bursts. For the second time. Shivering. Gasping. Pulsating. As if her pussy can't decide what's the best way to please the cock inside of her, an infuriating tightness and gyration around you.

Her leg leaves your shoulder, her whole body leaning against you as Kazuha's tired, labored breathing fans the back of your ear.

"That was quite the trick." Kazuha giggles at your lame attempt at a joke, pressing her finger against your lips.

"Did I say I was finished?"

Of all the things you should have expected after all the salacious behavior she exhibited during her first two orgasms, you really don't know why you should have expected anything less than what she did next: wrapping her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist.

Her forehead leans against yours, your tandem breaths sync up, and the calmness lasts for maybe a second before Kazuha presses a small peck against your mouth. She grinds down and starts working against your lap, her pussy bobbing up and down the hardness of your cock. You're carrying her weight now, Kazuha lifting herself up, then letting gravity guide her hips downwards to fully seat your dick.

Your fingers sink into her tight ass. She rides you, no break, not pausing once in her movements, sheathing herself repeatedly onto your girth. She's fucking you—every pent up frustration in living an idol's life is now being released into that. It dawns on you that in no moment were you ever in control, Kazuha stole every bit of agency from you.

Even so, your hips are locked in place.

Even as the room smells of sex and you're completely ensnared in a tangle of limbs. The loud clapping of flesh on flesh ringing in your ears—every bit of this situation is screaming irresponsibility and wrong. To fuck an idol whose star is on the rise would spell an end for a promising career. And yet Kazuha never fails to get her way, it's undeniably clear the moment that devious smile spreads across her face and the heated sparkles light up in her eyes, this vixen is determined to have what she wants.

Everything is burning up—your loins are on fire, Kazuha's steamy hot insides are the match.

"How do I feel, Mr. Photographer?" The sweetest, honeyed voice but with the devil's timbre. Kazuha fucks the words out of you, and your mouth feels so dry—you can't find the will or ability to speak as Kazuha smiles triumphantly.

Your life flashes before your very eyes. The decisions, the events—everything leading up until this very moment where you found yourself impossibly entangled in a gorgeous superstar, unable to get free from this spell. Everything culminates. From the time you were told you'd be working with her. From her flirty looks during the shoot.

Your hour of recess turned into this wild, irresponsible, crazy scenario. A lustful mess, as evidenced by the slick sheen that's collected around Kazuha's tight hole, glistening in the pale light. The tiniest twitches of her face, the furrowing of her brow—she's getting close again.

A handful of violent bounces is all she needed. With a stilted, violent scream and her pussy choking and gushing all over your thick rod. Everything's too hot and your toes begin curling and you can't stop fucking her, holding her perfect round ass, you start thrusting upwards—into her oversensitive cunt.

Kazuha squeals and it's too late to stop now, the sound of her pitiful cries as her body jerks and trembles and shakes—you're cumming together, perfectly synced in this debauchery. Her cunt squeezes the orgasm out of you. All over her walls. Flooding her insides, the warmth spilling out and dripping down and marking the both of you in the naughtiness of this exchange.

She collapses in your embrace, slumping against your chest and struggling to hold herself up. Both her feet rest on the ground, and the exhaustion is evident on her face—heaving breathlessly with a bright, brilliant smile as her knees threaten to give out beneath her.

Kazuha doesn't say anything, not a word, but she's glowing—unable to wipe that gorgeous grin off her face. There's no sign of regret either, or any hint of shame or guilt. No trace of anything but unbridled happiness and pure, raw satisfaction. A mischievous, perverse happiness that a woman in her profession shouldn't exude, not with the career waiting ahead of her.

A knock on the door. Shit. It's already been an hour?! There's a short pause, and she's pressing her finger to her lips, giggling quietly while giving a cheeky wink and getting herself dressed.

"I'll be right out." You yell at the door, sounding a bit winded as the thoughts come to you. It's easy to zip up, put away, and readjust yourself but there is absolutely no way you can cover up the smell, an obvious pungent musk that'd have anyone wrinkling their nose, the smell of hot, sweaty sex.

Kazuha winks at you and struts towards the door. A deep inhale, and the moment the door opens a whoosh of cool air clears out the fog from the past hour's festivities. "Make me look good out there Mr. Photographer," and in the span of an eye-blink, the façade she's made her identity, Kazuha's the innocent, sweet idol once again, her perverted desires and lustful yearning hidden under a veil of composure and modesty...

#kazuha smut #le serrafim kazuha smut

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