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fillinforlater · 1 year

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Just Testing

Male Reader x Wonyoung, Eunbi, Sakura, Yena, Yuri, Chaewon, Nako, Hitomi, Mina, Nayeon, Gaeul, Rei, Sua, Yoohyeon, Jinsoul, Yeojin, Tiffany, Sooyoung, Winter, Sullyoon, Xiaoting, Miyeon, Yiren, Arin, Seungyeon, Hwasa, IU, Chaeryeong, Somi, Rose (31some)

Length: 31,577 words

FIC STARTS AFTER THE #

FIC IS SPLIT INTO MULTIPLE POSTS

Tags: SQUATTING FACE FUCK + ANAL PRONE BONE, PORN, stupid satire, self-aware smut, seductive, flirting, charming, perfect!you, GAME SHOW, testing mouths, blowjob, sweat, sweat kink, messy sex, sub/dom dynamics, sex in water, double anal (@kaedespicelatte), female orgasms, rough sex, overstimulation, stocking and high heels kink, gaping, terrible jokes, teasing, gagging, breath play, banter, fuck buddies, weird relationship, sex on the ground, temperature play, petite body, hard anal, sex toys, vibrator for overstimulation, elegance, keeping warm, huge tits, tit play, TW: golden shower, water sports, piss kink, couch sex, size kink, dom!idol, edging, threatening, heavy jerking off, blue balled, TW: brat, brat taming, forced deepthroat, cursing, undressing, name calling, degradation, dub-con?, GAME-SHOW-CEPTION, outside sex, public sex, getting caught, rent is due, sex sells, scent kink, slow sex, caring anal, rough face fucking, slut, runny mascara kink, choking, fingering, porn tropes, sex while watching porn, screams, fucking into submission, suddenly missionary, bimbofication, blonde bimbo kink, are you on drugs?, cumshot, cum on tits, cockwarming, sex doll, lube, lube play, fighting, brat breaking, a lot of lube fr, first time, teaching, slow bj, hot and steamy, body worship, abs kink, almost loving, suddenly painting, male overstimulation, death by orgasm?, self-degradation, very loud, break everything, food play, cherries, whipped cream, biting sheets, why did you read all of that???

TW: a lack of editing, cringiness lol and this has all the kinks, SPOILER! Scene 7 has watersports, Scene 29 has foodplay, Scene 11 has heavy degradation, Scene 20 bimbofication, but tbh, read at your own risk lol

Inspiration: my hate relationship with porn and the industry behind it. This has a lot of satirical themes, terrible jokes and allusions to other things/media, especially K-Pop lyrics and song titles. This is also kind of a flex and a tribute to the insane amount of hot people we get to see as fans of this music genre.

Also, I'm a bit insane and like the squatting and prone-position a bit too much.

(A/N: Kaede is already tagged, also @worldsover for Arin and Yena, @writerpeach add Xiaoting and Kkura to the list, @sinswithpleasure Winter, @midnightdancingsol for Jinsoul, @iznsfw for Eunbi, Hitomi and Nako, @capslocked for Miyeon, @praeluxius for Sullyoon and Chaewon, @firagaarmor for Gaeul, @authorsquidward for Wonyoung and Yeojin, @craycr4y, @co-reborn for Mina, @nsfwmaemi for Xiaoting. Sorry, not sorry.)

“So, this is going to be the first take, right? How many do you usually need?”

The stylist combs your hair with her delicate fingers a final time before deeming it perfect. It literally is, clean, black and utterly unleashed. Whatever the producers think fits best for your personality. The show must go on—something like that, as long as you have any hair, you don’t mind what it looks like. Okay, to be fair, even if they would ask you to go bald, you would. This job is just too precious to pass on.

“Oh, I only need one take, darling,” you say and look at the stylist through the crystalline backlit mirror into her crystalline brown eyes. Something tells you that they are usually not this wide open and shocked, call it an instinct if you will, something to pair with one of your three divine strengths:

Irresistible charme.

“Well… if you say so,” she stutters and tugs a strand of her blonde hair behind her cute little ear. She directs her gaze towards the door, but you know she isn’t thinking about leaving, not with the way her hand rests on your shoulder or her tummy cushions the back of your head when you lean backwards to look at her from a different angle.

She is quite pretty, with the tiny moles on her bright skin. One could’ve easily mistaken her with one of the many women you’re about to work with, but apparently she has chosen a different career path. Too bad for you, or her, or the camera. Nothing a couple of perfectly placed words couldn’t change.

“I only say it, because it’s true,” you say with a defensive hand gesture and stand up from the confines of your chair, the same, favorite chair that is following you around the world. “Looks like you’re the same, Miss—”

“Sharon, just Sharon,” she finishes your sentence, the pitch of her voice higher than before as she looks up at you. “B-but what do you mean by, ‘the same’?”

“Oh, it’s because your styling is literally perfect. You don’t have to go for a second take either.” Gently take Sharon’s hand into yours and rub the back of it with your thumb. “Just like me.”

“Y-you’re too kind.”

“Now tell me, Sharon: that’s not your real name, right?”

Sharon shyly looks to the ground. The tip of her feet move closer together and you feel a bit of sweat build up on the tip of her fingers. Oh, the professionalism, it’s slipping away.

“You got me there,” she giggles. “My real name is Mina, I’m from—”

“Japan. I can tell. Your accent is giving it away.”

Now she is melting, either in embarrassment or because of the compliments. Judging from the new color on her cheeks, red like fresh strawberries, and the small smile below her beauty spot, it’s the latter.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, Mina, your English is fantastic and your accent is, let’s call it as cute as your face.”

Mina looks up, dreamy, her hands automatically move up to your chest, but if she wants to go further she has to really stretch. Thank the Gods for the other divine feature they have given you:

Incredible height.

195 cm, 6’4’’, wow so big; you better know all the ways to measure you. All of it rolls off your tongue so easily although you don’t have to announce it. It’s obvious, imposing even, yet not impractical. At least it wasn’t, until your Asia Tour started. Most things are a bit too small now, but you won’t complain, no, you’re literally not allowed to. Your contract says so.

“Thank you, Mister,” Mina hums and her nails reach your nape when sudden steps behind the door make her back off with lightning speed. Who dares to block such a nice development?

“Okay, change of plans,” shouts JJ, your manager, agent and favorite pest as he bursts into the dressing room. He is drenched in sweat and about as stressed as usual before any one of your shoots. Time to give him your favorite punishment for coming in so rudely.

“Ah, JJ, good to see you. This is Mina, a wonderful, talented japanese stylist,” you say with a bright grin, knowing how much he hates it when you interrupt him with something so casual, yeah, how dare you be nice when he is literally an impetuous bull.

“Oh, uhm, hello Mrs. Mina,” he stutters, shakes his head, bows, then groans. It’s worth cherishing if you’re honest. “Anyways, we have more important things right now. There have been communication issues and uhm, all of them are here already, so we’ll shoot the scenes ping-pong wise.”

“Hold on, hold on, JJ. You’re saying, all thirty of them are? How could that happen?”

“Well, th-the Koreans thought the second time I sent them was meant as an alternative date, you know, if there are problems or something. Oh, and it’s not thirty. One woman quit at the last minute, she had doubts and a lot of fear.”

“Which is absolutely okay,” you say calmly and look at Mina for a second. She tries to seem occupied, but you know she is staring and listening intently. “If she doesn’t want to, I don’t blame her. We can shoot with twenty-nine and we can shoot them all in one go if we have enough rooms.”

“Yeah,” JJ says with a sigh of relief at your non-violent reaction, which is the norm. “We were able to get some extra rooms. The company really wants this episode and they are willing to make it a two-part special, I was just worried that you couldn’t—”

“What? Handle thirty?” You laugh with a wide charismatic smile, which leaves JJ cold—such a shame that he is completely resistant to you, but it makes him the perfect manager to control if need be—but does a lot of things to Mina. The japanese woman gawks, drools at you from the side. She does not notice that you can see it from the corner of your eye through the backlit mirror.

“Whatever you say,” JJ groans and rolls his eyes. “It’s still only twenty-nine.”

“Unlees,” you say and turn towards Mina, bowing down to be on eye-level with her. “Someone new joins us right now. Would that be possible, JJ?”

“I mean, s-sure. We have some lawyers, contracts, money—oh, wait, you’re not serious, are you?”

“Mina,” you say with a low voice and guide her hand to your chest. “I won’t lie, I saw the way you were looking at me. You have a great face and from what I can see a fantastic body. Allow me to be so incredibly rude and ask you:

“Do you want to join me in this shoot?”

Mina bites her lips and blushes again. From the touch of her fingers you can tell a lot of things. She is not rejecting the idea completely, so there is no spouse or partner in her life, at least none she is loyal to. Mina also works as a stylist for porn artists, so maybe her social circle won’t be too harsh on her. It’s still a difficult step, one she shouldn’t take lightly.

Then again, you’d really like to fuck her today.

“Can I think about it for a bit longer?” she whispers and you immediately nod, much to the dismay of JJ behind you. However, he remains silent. he ha too many fuck-ups today.

“Sure. Go with JJ and talk with the lawyers. They will make sure you’re properly informed, but in the end it’s up to you. The shoot will take quite long, so you can either join in last or—”

Gently knead her hand on your chest and smile at her adorable, unsure, yet needy expression.

“—live a life outside of this crazy industry. Both things will be worth it, my beautiful penguin.”

“Wha—how did you kn—”

“I can tell,” you whisper with a wink and make way for the door, where JJ gives you a bombastic side eye. You ignore him, which is worth a thousand words, but it’s better to keep them down now. Only a couple of minutes, then it’s showtime.

"Director, is everyone in position?" you ask nonchalantly, as if you didn't just open your shirt and stepped out of your white dress pants. As per usual, you can feel them all stare, staff, cameraman, hosts. It makes for an even better feeling when you peel off your briefs to reveal your manhood, the perfect indicator for your final supernatural power of the Gods:

Undrainable stamina.

You present yourself, fully nude, while your co-host walks onto the set. Unlike you, he is dressed in his marine blue suit with a bow tie and dress pants in the same color. He looks expensive, serious, a true professional, which makes you shake your head.

"Come on, man, you're always so stiff and stuck up! Let's give the people a fun show," you say and kindly grin at him. Works like a magic spell. He drops his shoulders and cocks his head back.

"You're right. It's hard to say some of these lines with a straight face anyways. I just worry…"

He pauses and looks at you, down your pecs, chiseled abs, phallus hanging in between your strong legs, then back up again with a blush.

"Don't worry, man," you calmly respond and point towards a door where JJ discusses something with some important looking people. "My manager fucked up today, yet the company still wants the video. In their eyes, it's all a good product, as long as we just do it. The show must go on, so relax, will ya?"

"I-I guess, b-but thirty is so many," he says in fear and looks at the director signaling the last thirty seconds before shooting starts.

"Thirty is not that much. Count them down like seconds, and I promise you, they'll pass by so quickly, you wish we had another thirty."

"Take one, everyone on set!" someone shouts and you feel the adrenaline reach a new peak. The slate falls, the cameras start. Almost perfect silence, but you swear you can hear the neediness in this building. The company really booked the entire floor of a luxurious hotel, combined with the outdoor area. Don't lie, you've seen crazier, but their efforts are still impressive.

"Hello, dear viewers!" your co-host greets the main camera with an eye smile. "Welcome back to Season 3 of our show. Actually, we are already at the second to last episode of this season."

He pouts. It's kinda cute, so you play along and mouth a little 'aww' at the oh-so sad statement.

"I'm your co-host and right next to me is the one and only; the one you are watching for and the only one you need to know."

"Hello World! Hello Asia!" you shout enthusiastically, to the main camera, then to the one that is only focussing on you and your most prized possession. Speaking of which, it's slowly getting hard with increased excitement.

"Good to have you here." Your co-host turns to you and peeks at his cue card for longer than usual. This is where the old script is probably falling apart.

"Thank you for having me," you say and do a couple of silly bowes to the staff. The microphone catches all their gasps and laughs. "I'm really excited for today. I heard it's going to be some sort of special."

"You're right about that one. Today is a double special, combo special about, uhm—"

He stutters, panically shuffling through his cue cards without knowing how he even started his sentence. Poor guy, having a blackout right at the start. In an effort to save him, you improvise and reach for his first card.

"Here, it says 'combo special for Just Testing'. Maaaan, just read it," you say in faked annoyance. Part charisma, part professionalism that can save a take and make the viewer smile—if they haven't skipped to their preferred part yet. Your co-host looks at you gratefully, before slapping his forehead and groaning.

“You’re right, of course! ‘Just Testing’ is going for double today, Twice the testing, twice the fun.”

“And twice the work,” you add, much to the bemusement of the director, who constantly gives you thumb ups. “I’m so ready for it. Can you tell me what I am going to test?”

“So,” he points at the large, black loosely hanging curtain behind you. “There is a long hallway with a lot of rooms behind this curtain. With the help of some beautiful support, you will test all kinds of loungers. We have different kinds of beds, couches, but also more unusual things to lay down on.”

“Oh, nice, I’m going to sleep on them? This will be a relaxing episode then.”

You stretch your arms upwards and fake a yawn, before he slaps them away.

“No, you’re here to work. On each lounger there is one woman lying prone. Your job is to test if having sex with them in this position is comfortable. Give your thoughts while making sure to thoroughly test them.”

“The women or the loungers?”

“The loungers, silly!”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. How many loungers are there?”

The co-host hesitates. He nervously looks to your agent, who shrugs, then to the director who shrugs as well but with more urgency. After a brief pause, the co-host acts like he is counting on his fingers.

“Let’s just say there are a lot,” he finally says. “More than two for sure.”

“More than two?” you respond, cock twitching again, everyone’s pervy eyes notice it. “So why is it called a double-combo-special-episode?”

“Well, we have a different thing you need to test today. On your right, you can find an example. Say hello to Arin!”

Cheers and applause from a parting crowd of staff members. A woman emerges from them. The first thing you notice are her soft-looking, reddish-pinkish lips. They are a bit plumb, perfect for what is to come. Other than that, she is gorgeous. Pale skin and a yellow-beige crop-top contrast the long, wavy hair flowing down her back and shoulders.

“Wow, you look wonderful,” you say with a delighted smile and stretch out your hand for the taking. “Nice to meet you, Arin.”

“Hello, it’s a pleasure,” she says and squeezes your hand. She is sweaty all over, from her pretty face to her arms and hands. The nerves of being the first today, hell, maybe it’s her first adult video shooting ever. You’d surely remember such a pretty face.

“Okay, Arin,” the co-host says. “You know what to do? If you’d please squat down in front of the curtain, thank you.”

Arin gets in between the two of you, her eyes scanning you top to bottom, but then fixating on your cock when she squats down.

“I think I know what’s about to happen,” you whisper and wink at the camera.

“It’s a bit more complex than that. While testing their throats, you need to use your creativity. Find out what they like, what they are best at and what you can teach the viewers while you’re going to town on their mouths. Give comments on everything, sort of like a teacher.”

“Y’all are insane!” you laugh, then nod eagerly. “Alright, I’m down for it. Is there any timer, some goal I need to achieve like in the last episode?”

“Only one rule:” the co-host says as he inches out of the frame. “Enjoy yourself.”

Everything changes with the blink of an eye. From the introduction and stupid banter to the main reason why people spend money on this. No one pays for a fucking box with the title ‘Around the World Season 3 Episode 4 Combo Special Just Testing’ to see you standing there naked. They want to see you do what they can’t: fuck more than a dozen of beautiful women without breaking a sweat and giving perfect remarks. Do your job and give them the addicting rush of awe, envy and lust.

“Arin, are you nervous?” you ask the young woman squatting before you.

“No, not at all,” she responds with a smile that can break every boy’s heart. “I’m very excited though!”

“I’m just asking because your face is quite—let’s call it wet.”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I know I can sweat a lot, it’s…” Arin’s self-aware stutter ends in her averting your gaze. You reach for her head and give her a few pats, while giving your dick a few strokes.

“You’re perfect, no need to be embarrassed.” Put your cock to her lips and Arin sighs. She forms a perfect O and you slowly glide into her. At this point, with you still only half-erect, it’s easy for her to take you. The feeling of getting harder inside such a pretty mouth is only surpassed by really fucking it. You’ll get there eventually, until you’re sick and tired of it.

“Here is the thing,” you casually say, making sure the main camera captures Arin’s face and the small bulge in her cheek. “Some people sweat more than others. In the case of our beautiful Arin, I’d use this as an easy way to make her messy. Look, she has so much hair, so many long strands, and they can easily stick to her face.”

You ruffle Arin’s hair with both of your hands as you slowly pump into the soft cheek. The wavy nutella-colored hair fans out, sticks to Arin’s sweaty shoulders, then her arms and lastly her forehead. You brush aside the rest for now and tell the second camera man to come closer.

“Take a look from my angle. Look at how wonderful this is. To all the guys who think their girl looks beautiful while you’re out with family or in public—try bringing her home afterwards and then do this. That orderly girl, a complete mess. It's awesome.”

Arin’s eyes have locked onto the camera. If this really is her first time, she is a star already, perfect for all kinds of blowjob and face fucking videos. Maybe she is already a pro, then you surely have to try out if she can take you fully. She is still able to handle your growing erection inside her, but now you have to go all out.

“To all the ladies,” you say and position Arin’s head towards the main camera again. “Take a look at how Arin forms her lips. Literally, look at the perfect O when I pull out. That’s the way to get a good grip, to make your man go weak.”

You slowly back off, your cock pops free and Arin gets it. She keeps the shape of her mouth the same way as before. The lipstick makes it look like a circle, mathematical pure, but otherwise very lewd. Trail your fingers along them as some of the staff members give their well-timed ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. It’s all for the show.

Suddenly, you roughly grab the sides of Arin’s bewildered face and shove your cock hilt deep into her mouth. The O was too tempting, the tension inside your loins too strong, and the gags are too perfect to stop. Arin reaches for your thighs to keep herself steady, while her hair bops and sways, the mess coming more and more to fruition.

“Entering is easy,” you say with your unbroken teaching-voice. “Your boyfriend or husband can penetrate you effortlessly when you keep the O. Arin is a pro at it, but you can learn it too.”

Again, the secondary cameraman scoots closer, films from the level of your hips into Arin’s face. She gags and coughs, drool pools on the underside of your relentlessly pounding dick, which sadly can’t fully enter her, despite your best efforts. At least Arin tears up and makes her face even messier. Her hair is now blocking most of her view as it clings to her forehead and makes for quite the barrier.

Groan when you pull out your long hard-on, let Arin cough and breathe freely. She slobbered up a lot of saliva, most of it spread on your cock, the rest running down her chin. Something about her beady, needy eyes makes you want to fuck her until she is the ultimate mess, chaotically whimpering because she wants it so much, but you will have to pass on that today.

“Good girl, Arin, well down,” you praise her and point to the camera. “Keep looking at the camera and spread your knees a bit apart.”

Arin does as told, though she struggles to stay in her squatting position without falling backwards. You kneel behind her and hold her in place. Just a tap on her knees, and she spreads them until you’re satisfied.

“You’re not wearing anything under those jeans,” you state and put a finger on her crotch. “It’s kind of disappointing, I thought you were a mess down there already.

“Do you want me to make you a mess down there too?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then use your suction-cup-lips, baby,” you whisper and get back into position. This time, you give Arin time to prepare. No surprise attack, let her relish in the feeling of your large phallus blocking off her airflow and disheveling the remaining fragment of her innocence.

Arin licks and sucks, all while humming everytime you don’t force a gag out of her. She is determined in her want for your cock, as much as she can handle, which still isn’t every last inch, but to be fair, she makes up for it. This undeniable passion, even the highest quality camera and best directing cannot capture it.

Most impressive of all however is that Arin remains in her squatting position. She has balance and posture, sure, but maybe it’s her want for you that keeps her stable like this, through potential back pain. Admire her for it by making the last thrusts violently hard, until her jeans are ruined.

“I think we’re done, fuck,” you curse enthusiastically and the camera immediately goes in between Arin’s legs. “What a beautiful mess. You did very well, Arin.”

Circle the denim with your fingers and bite her sore lips. The lipstick has mostly transferred to your cock, an indicator on how much she was missing for the ultimate triumph. But Arin is no deepthroat pro, she excels in other areas.

“This is definitely a way, a way to make things work, to ruin or be ruined,” you croak out, realizing your throat is too dry to continue babbling. Someone hands you a water bottle, you down it quickly. “Sorry for this interruption, Arin, let me tell you that you would pass any test with ease.”

“Th-thank you,” Arin squeaks, her throat not dry, but surely sore. “Glad you li-liked it.”

Kiss her on the cheek.

“A pleasure to meet you, but I have to go now. My bed is calling.”

Cheers from behind you when you pass through the curtain, two cameramen following you, the director and co-host right behind them. A wide, well-lit hallway opens to you. Every door looks open and you can sense the nudity, the lewdness, the sex that emanates from them like a seductive odor. With a gleeful smile you turn to the co-host, who quietly points at the first door to your right.

“Guess we’ll start here—although I cannot see any beds in here. Is this a pool, or what?”

To your surprise, you find the room mostly tiled and flooded with a few centimeters of warm water, perfect to wash your feet and maybe doze for a couple of minutes—which is exactly what a young lady pretends to do in the middle of it all. She lays prone in front of a large bouquet, only wearing a skimpy bikini to hide the private parts of her slender body with surprising curves.

“Hello there, beautiful,” you say cheerfully and kneel next to the dozing woman. “Are you comfortable?”

“Hello,” she responds, a sleepiness and hunger evident in her eyes. “It is amazing. I could stay here all day.”

“Begs the question:” you interject and closely inspect her short, black hair with those meticulously styled bangs. “Is it fun to have sex in here?”

“Should we find out?” she asks and moves her fingers to the string holding her bikini in place. You quickly grab her wrist and guide it back up and at a snail's pace.

“Now, now, young misses. I don’t even know your name, and you already want me to fuck you on these hard tiles? Where are your manners? Maybe you’re still in dreamland. What’s two plus two?”

“Four, I’m not stupid—”

“Six plus six?”

“Twelve. Look I—”

“Eight plus ten?”

“Eighteen—”

“Your plus name?”

“Huh?”

Someone snickers behind the camera set up. Other staff members try to find a spot in the narrow door to watch the spectacle unfold, but no matter how distracting they may be, your professionalism will not falter.

“Oh, uhm sorry,” the girl says, still more puzzled than surprised. “I’m Chaewon, the wannabe mermaid. Sorry for being rude, I got here early and now I’m so relaxed, God, I can’t think straight.”

“Good for you, Chaewon.” You inspect her face, small, sharp jaw, impeccable shape with an adorable nose and the already mentioned bangs that just make it look a bit more perfect. “Stay relaxed then, because I believe it is one of the many perks—

“—of having sex in this water instead of a bed.” Increase the volume of your speech so the viewer knows that they should pay attention if they want to learn something. I mean, who doesn’t watch to learn how to have sex with a doll for a woman in perfect shallow water? That’s what you’re all about.

“Chaewon, should we get started?”

“Sure.”

This time, Chaewon is allowed to undress. She does so lazily, flaunting her body almost accidentally, yet with all the purpose of the world. Firm, mid-sized tits and an even firmer, even bigger butt make for excellent curves on this gorgeous, small woman. After discarding the bikini in the tiny waves of the tiny pool, if you dare call it that, Chaewon lets herself fall back into the prone position, chin barely above the water.

What is not barely above the water is her ass, which she pulls open a bit for you to catch a glance yet not see her glorious hole in all its beauty. She is really on her lowest level, no effort and fucks given.

“Guys,” you sigh and whine. “Only do this with your girl if you are okay with her being not only absolutely passive, but also a little hindrance. Don’t expect her to do anything. You’re the workhorse for today. Ladies, I’d urge you to do exactly what Chaewon does. Add nice smelling flowers and candles, relax and just exist. Don’t even spread your ass for him.”

Chaewon giggles and releases a long, barely audible moan when your fingers dig into the flesh of her butt cheeks and pull them apart.

“Get a camera on there,” you say with dramatic shock. “Quick! Film this perfect, perfect hole. Holy shit, Chaewon, why did I not know of you? You must be such a butt slut.”

“All training~” she chicly says and lazily looks over her shoulder. “But it’s rarely this relaxed.”

Don’t even waste time grinding on the smooth skin of her butt or in between her big cheeks. You immediately insert your tip into the puckered hole and slam down half way. Chaewon moans, satisfied and rests on her crossed arms as if she is getting a massage.

“Hold on, you all see that? I mean, you can’t feel it like I do, but,” you pause and start to slowly fuck Chaewon’s ass, giving her more and more of your length the longer it goes on. “I have never felt something like this. You must be training every day, all day, huh?

“Chaewon, I’m talking to you. You’re also on cam, so please don’t sleep.”

“There is always something inside me,” Chaewon babbles in a cute, dreamy voice. You decide to wake her up by pushing your tip as deep as possible, and it actually works. Chaewon jumps, stretches herself and you lean to her ear. Tug away the straight, black strands so she can hear your most quiet whisper.

“Yes, but it never reaches this deep. Your hole is so loose around me, but my tip feels great. But this won’t do.”

You turn to the camera with a dumbfounded expression, which bemuses the ever chattering and peeking staff members, especially when your cock slips from the not-so-tight confines of Chaewon’s ass.

“We need to change it up,” you say and point to your co-host. “Give me one of our products, I think this bubble-butt-bitch needs more than one thing inside her.”

Chaewon laughs at the joke, innocent at first, but her laughter turns lewd when she eyes the massive dildo the cameraman hands you. With piqued interest, she watches over her shoulders as you align both your shaft and the fake shaft with her loose entrance.

“I think I don’t need to elaborate that this is not the norm. Please only use one of these on your bottom, okay? I’m not liable for damages.”

Finding the right angle is a lot more difficult with this added width, but you’re able to get inside Chaewon. Her ring puts up some resistance at first, yet when she takes a longer breath, you get inside and immediately begin to thrust.

“Ah, fuck,” Chaewon groans happily and lets her upperbody sink into the water again. “This is, this is better than I thought.”

“Yeah, let’s just pretend that this happened from the start,” you giggle. “Chaewon feels pretty tight now. Her ass is warm, just like the water and her backside is almost as pleasing to the eye as her face.”

“Can you tell us more about the ground, what’s it like to have sex here?” the co-host asks from behind the camera, eyes glued to where you double-penetrate Chaewon’s ass.

“Right, that’s why I’m here. Let me be honest, this was not my first thought and I was a bit skeptical. There are a lot of factors that have to be right, otherwise, fuck, otherwise it might not be that pleaseant. Colder water would make her tense up, that’s a no-no. If the tiles below are too coarse, it won’t feel great either; they could also be too slippery, which might sound fun but actually—”

Suddenly a loud, deep groan by Chaewon, followed by quick breaths. You must have found some special spot inside her ass. She starts to tremble, her entire body shaking with pleasure when you continue.

“Sorry about that distraction. All the worries aside, if you set it up perfectly, like here, and have someone who can take it up the ass like Chaewon, it might actually be the best way to fuck someone prone, period. The water makes you feel so clean too, although you are literally—

“—literally cumming from your ass. Isn’t that right, Chaewon~?”

The entire crew stops breathing for a moment. Chaewon starts to whine at your precise, hard thrusts. For the first time, the young woman tenses up. Inaudible screams leave her lips and she cums violently. Her ring has a tight grip on your base, both you and the dildo are stuck in the bottomless pit for the time being.

“Yes, oh God, yes!” Chaewon shouts out, still high on the pleasure. “So good!”

“Solo double-anal; ever had that before?” you ask and brush her wet hair with your wet hand.

“No, but I definitely need it again.”

Chaewon begins to relax and you are able to free yourself. With a bit of regret, you leave the warm water. Would have been nice to stay for longer, especially with such a fascinating specimen, but you need to take your leave. After all, there are still dozens of girls waiting for you.

“Sure. Hit me up. My number is on screen right now.”

“Wha—” the director gasps and quickly proceeds to cover his own mouth.

“Hey, it was just a joke. Anyways, see you later, Chaewon.

“Now, can someone hand me a towel, please? And some water as well, all this water left me thirsty.”

Turn to the camera as people rush to bring you the requested items.

“That’s another tip from me: drink a lot of water. Helps with everything and is literally vital for your survival. I recommend non-carbonated water, the way God intended it to be.

“Now, where is the next room?”

“Right across the hallway,” the co-host says. “We’ll move on in a zig-zag motion from room to room for most of the testing. However, there is a special part which we will film somewhere else.”

“Sounds exciting!”

You dart to the next room, the filming crew barely able to keep up. Shaky footage will either be used for jokes or transitions, so there is value in seeing nothing but a blur of your backside and other surroundings. This time the door is only slightly ajar, yet you still burst in with no care in the world. A woman in front of a mirror jumps, her brush with white polish hitting the floor.

“Jesus, who the—you fucking asshole!” she shouts, anger in her face from being pranked like this. You smirk when you recognize the woman's face. No need to apologize to this long time partner in crime.

“How did you know I was just fucking an asshole, Tiffy?” you ask her with a playful, stupid voice while wrapping your arm around her small waist.

“No, that is literally not what I meant, I said—”

Tiffany shuts up as soon as the first cameraman is in the room and up in her face.

“What did you say, hm? C’mon~ tell the world how you just insulted a friend of yours.”

“We’re not friends, just fuck buddies,” she snarks back and looks down at the floor, stained with polish from the brush she dropped. “Look, you made a mess. These stains won’t ever go away, idiot.”

“Everyone,” you say to the camera, cheerfully ignoring everything Tiffany just talked about. “I think you should know Tiffany. She was on this show already and we had quite a good time with her. She did too, by the way.”

“No,” she whines and pouts. Lift her onto the dresser in front of the mirror. “What are you doing now?”

“I know that you’re here for the face-fucking-testing and I already know what we will do, but first, I really wanna see your pussy again. Is it still so pink and pretty?”

Tiffany blushes hard, it’s one of the things you love most about her features. In photo and porn shooting, she looks fierce, like an impenetrable Domme, a wall of confidence you can’t overcome, but with you around, she’s almost like a virgin.

“D-don’t call it pre-pretty! I-I haven’t shaved,” she stutters, face hidden behind a hand with freshly painted nails.

“But it is so pretty. Let them have a look.”

Spread her legs with both your arms. If Tiffany really wanted her cunt to remain unseen, she could’ve just jumped from the dresser, but instead she plays timid—which seems like a ridiculous farce, because she is not wearing panties beneath her short, tight dress.

“Tiffy, why are you embarrassed? It’s such a cute pussy, and the hair just makes it better.”

“Stop using that name,” Tiffany growls behind gritted teeth. The lens of the camera is now on level with her crotch, while you drag your fingers up her massive thigh to her labia. A quick rub, and Tiffany tenses up, fearing you would notice her arousal—futile. You know her too well, her sweet spots, how mad she is for your cock. Sadly…

“I don’t get to fuck your pussy today, but I think you guys watching are excited to know more about her throat, more precisely hear more about it.”

“You’re such a tease, you could have a-at least given it a lick.”

Tiffany crosses her arms as she gets off of the dresser. The black dress really fits her figure, the color even more so, especially because it’s accompanied by black high-heels and a black overcoat. They all synergies so well, there is no question which color fits Tiffany the best.

“But if I had started eating you, I would not have stopped for at least a couple of hours, and this crew clearly does not have the time for that,” you say with a bit of sas before changing your expression back to something more serious. “Enough with the chit-chat, you know why we’re here?”

“Yes,” Tiffany says, flushed wiped off her face in an instant. “I hope I can hold this position for long enough. Squatting is tense.”

“If I were you, I’d worry more about if you’re able to hold your breath for long enough. We both know your gags are loud, violent and one of the most arousing sounds in the world, so—

“How about I shut up and you show them how deepthroating is done, Tiffany.”

“Bring it on,” she says and opens her mouth. You lay your cockhead on her idle tongue, knowing that it will not be idle later, when it does its deadly dance. It must be said that Tiffany is a pro at almost everything, yet her ability to suck cock is quite underrated amongst your peers. You told them back then that it would make for a great show and today, you’re about to show them.

Adjust your footing, while Tiffany adjusts her posture and tilts her head slightly back. Her lips open up more, letting your length glide into her already watering hole. Tiffany is great at knowing the perfect pace of your first entry, how to go above her limits, how to take you whole.

You look down at her, but she is focused, not interested in any more shenanigans, only interested in showing off her skills. A first gag, loud and imposing, then her jaw opens fully. Nothing is holding you back, and when Tiffany’s tongue starts to tease the underside of your cock, you know she is ready to be fucking loud.

With both hands you begin to fuck her head onto your rod. Bursts of saliva shoot out on the sides of Tiffany’s mouth, but no one can pick up their slooches. Chokes and gags fill the hotel room, fill the microphones and soon the homes of many adults wondering: Is she going to be fine?

Probably.

In tandem with your hands, which start to entangle with the brunette's hair, you add the occasional hard hip thrust, which forces Tiffany’s nose to meet your crotch and your balls to be drenched in drool which she chokes up and slobbers through puckered lips. The gags inside her throat start to sound like rapid gunfire, and in your own delirious state of mind, you need to check if Tiffany can still handle it.

Probably?

Her eyes roll back to her head from time to time, but everytime they return, she looks more and more dazed. The rest of her body is starting to reject you, but you can’t pull out yet. There is something so satisfying about not having to explain things. The people can just watch and hear and then judge if they like it or not. Maybe you should add a disclaimer that not everyone is so in control of their gag reflex.

“This—this is gold, heaven really,” you groan and reluctantly give Tiffany time to breathe while your cock remains at her lips. She sucks cool air into her mouth, probably purposefully. You hiss at the difference in temperature. Tiffany chuckles in between her final chokes and squeezes your cock in torturous strokes.

“Tell them, big boy, tell them how special I am.”

“Shit, let go of my dick first. You can’t tear it off and expect us to stay friends.”

Tiffany grins triumphantly. She kneads you with both her hands now and has the audacity to lean back a little. Your cock is misused as a rope to hold onto, and your mind goes haywire at the double pain, which somehow makes it feel great.

“Less whining, more praising~” Tiffany says and you speak your mind quickly and freely. Get those words out fast, or she’ll really make you a couple of inches shorter.

“Hng, okay, okay. Reminder for everyone: Tiffany, fuck, Tiffany is very fucking good at this. If you ever intend to try this at home, remember, you ain’t no Tiffany. Things could get really messy.”

“Thank. You.”

Tiffany lets go of your manhood and falls backwards on the carpet. Her chest heaves, otherwise she remains motionless, a cocky grin on her face. It makes you raise your eyebrows and curse a bit. Why didn’t you continue? If she’s this calm already, you could have fucked her throat a bit longer. Make it sore, until she can only communicate with sign language for a couple of days.

“Next time, I’ll do it harder.”

You return the cocky grin and leave the room, everyone but the two of you confused and speechless. Finally, the co-host steps up and shouts his question behind you.

“What is your business with her? Did something happen in the past?”

“Ah, you know, it’s just our dynamic. Your behavior depends on whoever you meet, where you meet them, what your mood is, what the occasion is—it’s the same for me too. The last time I had a shoot with Tiffany was months ago, and afterwards I kinda ignored her. Then we met at a random party, had a good chat, a couple drinks and next thing I know, she pins me to the wall and sucks me off.

“I swear to God, I thought she was going to kill me, suck my soul out, stuff like that. She was pretty pissed I ignored her, which I didn’t really get so you know—fight and stuff; people have conflicts, it happens.”

As you tell the story, even the last stylist and technician flock around you. They form a cage to watch naked-you spill the tea, like it was any of their business. Not that you care, it’s all fabricated anyways, but they surely believe it. The editor will have a great time blurring them all out, especially those smart enough to get behind you, right in its focus.

“Uhm, what is happening?” you ask dumbfounded and watch the director from the corner of your eye. He is furious, pointing out to staff members to get out of your way. Swear to God, there is never a shoot where things go smoothly. Luckily, you can just smile, smile, smile it away and disappear behind the door with nothing but a single cameraman.

“Hi, nice to see you again,” a girl greets you with her arms wide open to hug you. You need a second to remember the face. It’s been a while since you’ve worked with her.

“Rose, how pleasant to find you in this—okay, what the hell is this room?”

Black stained glass tiles on the floor and white stained ones on the ceiling, that’s it. No furniture, no carpet, no lamp, no nothing. Large windows let in enough light to make filming possible, but you doubt that this room is meant to be filmed in.

“I was confused too at first,” Rose says, pulling down the straps of her thin dress and revealing to you her small breasts. “Apparently they want you to test me on the ground.”

“Oh, I see. So everything on the ground?” you ask the cameraman and he makes a nodding motion with the large device. “Whose idea was this? I’m sorry, Rose, I think you deserve better than this.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” she says with a kind smile while stepping out of her dress. Hands on her hips she reassures you: “Really, trust me. I think it will be an interesting experience.”

“Hm,” you hum and reach for one of her nipples, small and stiff and apparently very sensitive, because Rose mewls at the simplest touch on them. “Do you like this?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then how about we make good use of the coldness of the glass,” you lean down to Rose’s chest and lick all over Rose’s tiny tits. “and let your cute tits rub all over them?”

“Ha, yes, anything you like,” Rose moans, delighted, her thin legs shivering.

“Perfect. Get on the ground, please.”

While lying prone, Rose’s very slender frame shines even more than when she stands upright. The only outlier are her hips, which have surprising width and are the first thing you get a hold of. Rose adjusts herself on the cold, sleek surface, lifting up her butt so you can enter her easily. In an agonizingly slow push, you start to fill her cute little ass with your way-too-big cock. Rose shimmies underneath you, nipples gliding over the tiles and making her breathless.

“Pl-please, b-be careful. F-feels bi-bi—g—ood.”

Rose’s cute plea halts your inner desire to ravish her tight hole. Only gently, you start to move in and out, never enough to get you closer to orgasm, but the way she squeezes down on you makes up for it.

“You are very, very tight Rose. Is the ground too cold?”

“I-it’s fine,” she whimpers. “It feels good on my chest.”

“That’s something,” you sigh and stare at the camera in annoyance. Where the hell is the director? Whose idea was this? Back when you read the script, ‘Rose - On The Ground’ sounded a lot better in theory. You expected a carpet or at least a warmer surface, but now Rose is grinding on the floor and—actually tightening?

“Oh fuck, Rose, I don’t remember you being this tight. Looks like the glass has some benefits.”

“Ha, hng,” Rose moans and interrupts her own sentence. “Ju-just my boobs, ni-nipples feel so good. Please, don’t stop!”

“As long as you’re enjoying yourself, I guess I can live with you being a cocksleeve,” you laugh, then hiss at Rose starting to move on her own, her butt creeping up and swallowing your entire dick. “Fellas, I think in some rare cases, fucking on the cold, hard ground isn’t too bad, shit.”

It’s too early, you can’t cum yet. Put a hand in between Rose’s legs, feel her smooth thighs, warm and wet unlike the floor, until you reach the source of her heat. In circles, you rub over her labia and Rose begins to fidget and gasp. In a lucky swoop, you find her clit and place it in between two of your fingers. You can only play with it for so long, Rose is already close and without warning, she cums on your hand. Luckily, you were able to pull out in time, or else her ass would have sucked out your life-sparking liquid like a hungry vampire.

“That was,” you turn to the camera, out of breath from your last second escape. “better than I want to admit. I’m angry and satisfied at the same time. Everyone, I’m sorry, but I can’t really rate this. Try it if you feel frisky, but maybe, you should just fuck in bed.

“You on the other hand were amazing, Rose. High five?”

But Rosie is already dozy and has fallen into a deep slumber. Right, you remember her being like this after strong orgasms. One moment she is screaming in bliss, the next she snores like a married spouse of twenty years. At least she fell to the side, so you take the chance to look at her breasts again. So small, yet so sensitive and overwhelming. Put a mental reminder up that you will have to suck on them one day.

“Okay, so why did no one come with me in this room?” you irritatedly ask both the director and co-host. They look at each other and shrug, a scripter writer beside them points at one of the many scripts, but from this far out it’s impossible to recognize any letters. You stretch your back and sigh.

“Ah, fuck it. Let’s just move onto the next. Maybe you can give me an intro this time?”

“S-sure,” your co-host responds, shuffling cards while trotting at the edge of the screen. “Next up we have Miss Xiaoting from China. If you like the squatting pose, she will probably be your favorite today. Make sure to awe at the way she—”

There she is—and he is damn right. Xiaoting squats in front of a light pink wall, her short dress in wrinkles, large gloves the same. She watches you enter with a small smile, then starts to pose as if hundreds of cameras were clicking to capture every quantum of her beauty.

“Hello,” you slowly say to the woman down before you.

“Hello,” she gently responds, peeking up at you.

“You look very elegant, Xiaoting.”

“I know.”

She drags a finger along her thigh and over her knees which not only sit neatly side by side, but also fold in such a gorgeous way that you would want to drag your tongue all over them and feel the stretched, spotless skin.

“Do you also know what I like to do with elegant women?” you ask, expecting her to either play dumb or be dumb.

“I do, actually,” she responds with wit, her small smile now a smirk. “If you would take my hands, kind Sir?”

Intrigued by the Chinese girl, you offer her your hands. Xiaoting takes them with her cotton gloves to remain steady while her angled legs start to part and reveal what’s beneath the short dress. Panties, of course, but they are not the normal kind. Very skimpy, already wet with what can only be her pussy juice. Then you take a closer look.

“Is that a vibrator?”

“You are right, Sir. It’s the biggest that I have. One push on the button on the top of it, and it will steadily increase its speed.”

Xiaoting looks up and whispers in what can only be described as the lewdest kind of mind control known to man.

“Time to make this elegant woman become a needy bitch, hm?”

Reach down to where the sun does not shine and find the plastic device embedded in soaked panties. In the meantime, Xiaoting reaches for your cock, to keep herself upright on those thin, fragile heels of hers. Unlike Tiffany, she grabs it with care and awe, but you would prefer her bare hands to the

fluffy, dry cotton. Luckily, you don’t have to ask: Xiaoting wraps her lips around your tip with grace and gratitude as the vibrator in her cunt begins to purr.

“Ha, thank you,” she moans and kisses all over your dick with excellent elegance, fitting for her. “Keep pace with it, pretty please?”

“I’d love to,” you husk and stroke her straight hair, which smells fresh and would make for a great masturbation aid—but who needs hair when you can go straight for her pretty mouth?

A slow thrust into Xiaoting’s slobbering mess of a mouth. She has yet to react to the vibrator in her cunt, even the first audible increase in its intensity gets ignored. Give her a harder thrust this time, to the point she has to gag. Xiaoting tenses up and looks up at you, making your heart rate go up with a single glance.

“Fuck, something about your expression is just perfect. Always flaunting your beauty, always waiting for someone to stuff your holes. I can’t wait for the vibrator to make you tremble.”

Xiaoting releases your cock with a pop and gives it a couple of quick pumps.

“Me neither. Damn, I wish there were two of you.”

“This, ladies, tell your partner this, and he will give you twice the effort. He might not have two dicks, but he will fuck you like he has. And don’t feel shy, ask him about bringing toys to your playtime. You will see why in a second.”

Xiaoting puts you back to her lips and opens wide, greedy yet gracious, a paradox fateful to her character. She will do great in the adult video scene. She could shoot the same porno over and over again and people would still be attracted to her, and would still indulge in what she brings to the table.

Especially when she starts to twitch.

At first, it’s just her pussy. The third level of speed from the vibrator finally makes her cunt milk it, desperate for more movement along her slick walls. From there, the twitching creeps up her torso and down her legs, making her wide hips tremble ever so slightly and removing the first bits of stability from her beautiful, confident feet.

“See? Focus on her legs,” you tell the cameraman. “It has begun. God, to see your thighs tremble while getting your pussy pounded is probably worthy of a painting. Sadly, I’m a terrible painter, so the only thing I can provide is a couple of videos.”

“Yesh, pleash,” Xiaoting bubbles through the blockade in her mouth and you take this as an indirect call to fuck her face harder. She appreciates it by whimpering and showing the increasing giddiness in her head through glassy eyes.

“I think you all know—,” you speak up like the professor in one of his many lectures. “—that if she speaks while you go down her throat, you need to go harder or faster or both. Make her shut up. Obvious lesson, but here is how you can still communicate. Girls, pay attention.

“Xiaoting, please pinch my thigh if I go too rough, okay?”

Xiaoting nods, but could never have expected the onslaught of pumps and the reckless depth your manhood finds in her throat. Her eyes jump wide in shock, then fear of suffocation. Violent gags and she immediately pinches your thigh. You halt and pull out.

“Sorry about that. Are you okay?” you murmur with slight concern.

“I-I’m fi—oh, fu—y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Xiaoting can barely get words out. She might not be suffocated anymore, however another stuffed hole starts to get violated and it resonates throughout her entire frame, no body part is safe from the trembling, especially not her vocal cords.

“Oh, sounds like we are up to level four. Just listen to her moan, everyone.”

Both camera and microphone move closer to the action. They capture Xiaoting’s eyes flooded with tears, shaking, her lips covered in drool, shaking and then her hand still on your leg, shaking, of course. Her moans will be played on repeat for so many people and they’ll imagine her huffing on your balls, licking on your shaft and lapping up your pre-cum. Oh fuck, it’s a bit early for that.

“Damn, you are so good at that,” you whisper below the volume of Xiaoting’s moans and the vibrator in her pussy. You’d love to see it go crazy, maybe wiggle it a bit side to side, up and down to get her over the edge. No, you cannot get distracted, she will get to her orgasm soon enough. You should experience it while plugged into her mouth.

“Come on, Xiaoting. Let yourself fall, lose all this fake, nonsense elegance. Let yourself fall, on the ground and cum, cum on the fake cock in your pussy and I promise…

“One day, I’ll stuff it myself.”

Push past her lips, drown out her response in gags. The sides of her head in the palm of your hands feel so natural, the gratification of smearing your precum to the back of her throat so deserved. Yes, you work your butt off for this shit, you deal with dumb managers and even dumber directors, who give orders like they have either never seen a porno or too many. There is never a session where things go without a mistake.

All the bullshit is forgotten when you take a step back, watch your cock spring from Xiaoting’s tender lips and she begins to squirt. Level five, the strongest setting, has her spasming, droplets flying everywhere, streams running down her thighs. You predicted she would fall over, but somehow Xiaoting remains in her position, even as the orgasm rocks her body.

“Fuck, too much, too much, ah~!”

The Chinese woman throws her head back and reaches in between her legs. She jerks the vibrator a couple of times, extending her orgasm and leaving you hard as a rock in the air, dangerously close to your own arrival. But you cannot go out like this, it would be a stain on your legacy and the freshly cleaned carpet.

“You are amazing, Xiao,” you cheer for her as she gets down from her high and pulls out the vibrator. “Oh my, it’s bigger than I thought.”

“Th-thanks, i-it’s the biggest I’ve ever taken.”

“I know what I would rate this experience, easily the highest grades, so I’m interested in how you liked it.”

Xiaoting pouts and thinks. There is a hidden cute side to her, something you’d like to show to your parents when you invite her over for the first time. They would be thrilled and don’t have to know that she can look so desperately slutty.

“I’d give it a nine out of ten, but only because—,” she smirks and stares at your rigid erection. “—next time, I need to squat on you.”

“I think we can arrange that.” You wink. “See you later, Xiao!”

Xiaoting blushes at her new nickname and waves you goodbye. Everyone waddles out of her room, you on the forefront, heart rate decreasing at a much slower pace. Some of these girls try to get in there, but you can’t let yourself get fooled. Be the actor and act, don’t think too much of it has basically become your mantra ever since the girls you worked with have gotten prettier, clingier, more loving.

Nothing is gained by falling for them, so you reach for another bottle of water and take a large sip. You need to cool off a little bit, which is a huge badge of honor for Xiaoting and her visuals, but she will never hear it. One of the staff brings you a coat, and for a second you are utterly lost to why in the hell she would do that. Then you remember the next scene and that you are still on cam.

“Oh, thank you. Dammit, they know what you need. I can feel the cold from the room coming already. Are you going to put me into a freezer or something?”

Put the large coat over your shoulders and loosely close it at the front. This is where your impressive size comes in handy. Your entire body might be wrapped into it, but the coat can’t cover the last couple of inches of your cock.

You dramatically over act the cold when you enter the next room. It has neither a bed nor a couch, so the woman is once again laying on the ground.

“Guys, not again! Look at her, she must be freezing.”

“Quick!” the woman says with urgency as she turns her head towards you. “You should wrap yourself in something warm and I have just the right place.”

The woman spreads the cheeks of her denim-covered butt to show you a small opening placed right where you assume her asshole is. Her short black hair reminds you of Chaewon, but unlike Chaewon, she is putting in the effort to take you. She is even unbuttoning her shirt in this quite chilly room.

“Stop that,” you try to reason, yet can’t help but walk closer and look at her cleavage. “You, you might catch a cold.”

“We will both catch a cold if you don’t act quickly,” she whines and presents her ass again. “Put it in and we’ll both be warm.”

You can’t say no to that, she sounds very reasonable after all. Pull your coat open and lay down on top of her, your cockhead feeling the denim of her jeans, the cotton of her shirt, you have to adjust yourself some more until you find the hole. You poke one of her voluptuous cheeks, which makes her hiss in excitement.

“Can I lay down on top of you?” you whisper into her ear. “I think we’ll be even warmer then, Mrs—”

“Eunbi,” she responds, a bit annoyed that you’re keeping her waiting. “Do whatever you want, just put it in already.”

“I’d be my pleasure.”

Quite literally, it is. Eunbi’s puckered hole puts more resistance than you would have imagined, certainly more than Chaewon’s did. The reward however astonishes you. Her insides are hot and soft, wrapping around your rod like a cozy blanket on a cold winter night.

“Show them your face, Eunbi,” you groan and get a hold of her chin. Guide her face towards the lens of the camera, which hovers right in front of Eunbi’s stunning features. The tiny string of drool hanging from the tip of her luscious lower lip flips her visual from adorable and kind to lewd and needy. Eunbi is not satisfied with your slow half-pumps into her ass. Time to change that.

“Oh, fu—y-you feel so warm,” she moans, her hole stretched by your twitching phallus gliding in and out. A second camera behind you films the action between your legs. At this point in your career, you are able to ignore it, to just go to town on her while feeling more of Eunbi’s hot body.

“You too, Eunbi. I think there is something we can show them to make them feel warmer as well.”

Eunbi smirks and pushes herself up with both arms while you still cling to her back and keep yourself deep inside her rectum. With a hand creeping up her stomach—damn, you can feel her amazing muscles—you finally find and open the last couple of buttons of her shirt to free what would warm any straight man’s heart.

Eunbi’s massive, perky, bare tits.

“Take a look at them,” you say with awe and Eunbi giggles. “So big, so soft and so warm. If you have breasts like this, you can both give and get the warmth you need to make this session fun.”

You begin to massage one of Eunbi’s breasts and she throws her head back to the point where you can see her face. She smiles at you, rosy cheeks, tired eyes and a bone structure to die for. Her hair, the color of dark chocolate, hangs down and bops with every new thrust you give her warm ass.

“How is that? Do you like it?” you ask and smile back.

“I just wanted to ask the same thing,” she giggles, but then you force a drawn out moan from her when you roll her nipples in between your fingers. “It-it feels good, fuck.”

“That’s nice to hear, because I feel the same. You are literal heat, Eunbi. I’d have not problem fucking you outside, even at night.”

Press your lips on her cheek and before she can return the peck you rail her harder, onto the cold floor, both her melons in eager hands. Attack her sensitive spots, watch and feel how the heat from inside her radiates, making even the director sweat. Eunbi herself tries to wring something out of you, so you have to stop her ass from slamming backwards by pinning it to the floor.

The added stretch to her cheeks combined with a pinch to her nipples makes Eunbi lose it. In a deep groan, her entire body tenses up one final time, before she cums rather quietly, only whimpering at your final set of thrusts. Her upper body sinks back to the floor and you make sure to tug her tits behind the shirt again.

“Don’t catch a cold, okay?” you whisper into her ear and pat her head.

“I won’t,” she reassures. “Why didn’t you fill me with your warm cum? It would have made so much sense!”

“Sorry, darling, the script says otherwise.”

Hopefully the sound crew did not pick that up. You have to sell the illusion at least, the illusion that this is all happening at random, off script, as if no one gave you the list of women beforehand, as if no one told you what to do with them and how they like it, as if none of this is completely fake. Well, even if you fail to be illusive at times, the editors can just cut it out. No need to worry.

You and Eunbi get up from the floor simultaneously, bodies still close to each other. Suddenly, she wraps an arm around her nape and pulls you down into a kiss. That one is off script, not planned, but with her following reasoning it might stay in the final cut.

“I think this will keep us both warm~”

“You are right about that. I’ll hopefully see you again?”

“Whenever you like, big boy. Have fun, bye~”

On your way across the hallway, you suddenly stop and curl your finger towards your co-host.

“I think it’s time that you say the line,” you tell him with a serious expression as he steps over the wires into the frame.

“Oh, I see you have something planned. Well, everyone, I’d like to remind you that not everything on this show will be to everyone’s liking. Feel free to skip forward, thank you.”

‘But what about their suspension of disbelief’ you once argued with the show runners, but they blocked you off.

‘It has to be this way, what once started cannot be undone. We also need him to be in the frame at least a couple of times,’ all bullshit reasons in your opinion. It’s the way it is, can’t really do anything about it.

The camera is right behind you again, it films you opening the door and finding a familiar woman leaning against a black wall, phone in her delicately manicured hand, skirt too short for public, but just right for filming. Her silver high-heels clack when she wordlessly approaches you and pins her straight, blonde hair behind an ear.

“If I knew I’d be filming with you, I would have worn something nicer,” she husks with lust, her hands pressed flat on your chest.

“What are you talking about, Miyeon, you look fucking amazing!” you counter her words and put an arm around her small waist. “Turn to the camera, sweetheart. I think everyone would agree.”

Like the superstar model she could have been, Miyeon poses, gaze arrogant, as if to say that no one is worthy of being in the same room or breathing the same molecules as her. With these looks she could have made millions by just wearing clothes. You’re glad she chose a different career path, one that she calls ‘a lot more exciting.’

“What are we going to do today?” Miyeon asks. “I hope you don’t bore me.”

“Has Just Testing ever been boring?” you laugh out loud, but Miyeon looks unimpressed.

“Yeah, but I have had my face fucked countless times. On my knees, in heels, while upside down—go a bit crazy for me, boy!”

“Oh, so you’re down for anything new?”

“Yes, please!”

Miyeon gets into position, hands resting on her thighs expectantly. You brush her hair back to get an uninterrupted path to her mouth. Not your first time she has you on her lips, but back then it was just for a quick cumshot. The rest of the time you railed her against the wall. She also wore heels and the wall was black as well. The set-designers went with some nostalgia it seems.

“Open up, my pretty little bitch, and rub across my stomach. I promise I’ll give you something you never had.”

Miyeon does as told. It has the effect you had hoped for. The soft phalanxes of her fingers slowly moving across your skin put more pressure to your filled bladder. The hunt for an orgasm gets pushed back by the impending feeling of having to release yourself. It has been there for a while now, but it has not been this overwhelming.

“Good job, such a pro at it,” you praise Miyeon, then turn to the camera. “For those of you who want to try it, man, woman, whatever, you have to follow a simple rule: Drink lots of water. It’s healthy, filling and won’t stay inside of you as long as calories do.”

“Why are you talking about this?” Miyeon groans in annoyance, lazily licking your cockhead, not attempting to put it past her lips.

“You will find out soon enough. Keep your mouth open though.”

“You just want me to shut up, don’t you?”

“I don’t want you to miss what’s coming, Miyeon.”

“We already filmed a cumshot scene, idiot.”

The script could not have timed it more perfectly. The moment you wanted to release coincides with the moment you can’t hold it in anymore. With a roaring gasp, you reach for your cock to point it perfectly at Miyeon’s perfect face and unleash a strong stream of clear piss.

Miyeon almost falls backwards from her squatting posture, but after her initial shock she keeps herself steady. Like a good girl, she keeps her mouth open and catches most of your gushing piss in it. The rest covers her face fully, streams down her neck or drips directly onto her slightly bloated white crop-top.

Miyeon throws her head back when she swallows, letting you shower her in the gradually fading stream of clear liquid. Piss splashes on her thighs, feet, her skirt gets drenched when she parts her legs. You swing your cock around at the end to get rid of the last droplets, which rain onto her golden hair and for some reason make her moan in ecstasy.

“Oh God, what was that? I knew you would not disappoint me.”

“Everything for you, Miyeon.”

“I think I can throw these away now.”

Miyeon smirks when she gets up. A pull at her button and her skirt falls to the floor on its own. God, how you’d love to fuck her shaven slit right here, right now, with her covered in your release, marked as yours. Like so many things, it has to wait.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask and raise an eyebrow at the blonde girl starting to finger herself. “I have places to be.”

“I just want to get you ready again. Look, you can’t fuck someone being this soft!”

Fingers, covered in Miyeon’s pussy juice, wrap around you. Her full strokes have always been top level, barely outmatched by anyone. She is so good at jerking men off, there are videos of her doing just that and setting speed records. They are called Awesome Cum Done Quick and should be an embarrassment for all the record holders. Then again, they had Miyeon fucking the winner, so he certainly had the happiest twenty-three seconds of his life.

Keep your act together and squeeze her wrist when you are fully hard again. No need to get on any spot of that leaderboard. Miyeon sighs in disappointment but lets you go.

“Thank you. Fuck me again, will ya?”

“Sure,” you groan in fake annoyance and leave with a smile. This should be about the time that the people skipping your last scene will join back in. You neither want to keep them nor your cock waiting. Jump into the next scene without warning and the small woman lying atop an old, worn out couch shrieks.

“Ah, what the—you scared me!”

“Sorry, I just wanted to test you—I mean the couch—I mean… I’m just testing.”

That one was unintentional, an off script joke that the actress has to deal with now. She seems to be unfazed, watching back to you over her shoulder, her forehead in many wrinkles of doubt.

“Oh, you better do it thoroughly then. I can’t fucking stand being scared like that,” she responds and wiggles her cute butt up in the air.

“Sure, but can I get your name first?”

“Jieun,” she sternly replies.

“Nice to meet you Jieun. How tall are you?”

“How dare you—”

Muffle Jieun’s rage with your lips on hers. A spell that simply works, at least in porn. The woman calms down, her defense falls until she is yearning for more, dragging out the make-out session. Now is the perfect time to pull down her thin, tight shorts to where her socks start and knead one of her buttocks.

“You are such an asshole,” Jieun murmurs into the kiss and you look at her wide open eyes full of need. Suddenly, you push your middle finger into her butthole and feel her clench around it. Her eyes fall shut as she hisses and you quickly bite her lower lip.

“Say that again?” you tease while getting in position behind her. Jieun remains silent, her mouth pressed to the side of the small couch to keep herself silent when you enter, but it’s no use. She screams manically at your first push. And at your second. At the third she falters, trembles and surrenders herself into the cushions of the couch.

“Some of you might think that I hate fucking on these couches,” you say to the camera. “But I really don't. Some of them get thrown away too early. You can still have sex on them. Stains don’t need to bother you, their bagginess is great and even if they seem a bit small, you can still make it work.

“Just watch.”

Jieun has this tendency to push her ass up. Call it defiance, maybe it’s the way she likes it, but either way you have to deal with it. If you want to feel the couch below you and want to rank it properly, you will have to slam down hard into Jieun—and with glee, you do.

Hammer your cock into her, crash into the leather surface, yet she still bounces her ass up like a bouncy ball. It’s kinda like dribbling a basketball, just a lot more fun. Jieun is your cheerleader, her ‘hmph’s’ and ‘ah’s’ a motivating chant with how she repeats them on every single dribble of yours.

“You got such a nice little ass,” you groan into Jieun’s ear while the camera is focused on filming the penetration from behind. “I bet you were envious of girls with bigger asses, so you started to flaunt yours. But then some guys asked if they could fuck it. You were hesitant at first, but after the first thrust, you already loved it. That’s why you keep pushing your butt up.

“Isn’t that right, Jieun. I bet you cum hard from just anal.”

“Ah, I—I, hng!”

Jieun starts to gush. Her knees give out and you finally feel her stay flat on the cushions. Time to give this couch a proper review while Jieun is still weak and shaking from her orgasm. You intentionally dig your legs and fingers into the smooth leather curves, partially stained by sweat and Jieun’s arousal.

“This couch in particular might not be premium,” you elaborate, interrupted by Jieun’s hard panting. “But even though it’s small and slippery, you can still use it to your full advantage. Bend her over the back, make her sit on you, hell, Doggystyle will be great no matter how big you are. I’d recommend not going for 69 or missionary, unless she is as small as our Jieun here.”

You end your review with a chuckle, expecting Jieun to snark back or at least flip you off. From what you’ve heard she reacts pretty harshly to being called small, so it’s surprising to see no reaction apart from her butt still swaying side to side.

Get down to her face again, a gentle hand on her red buttocks. Jieun’s gorgeous, gorgeous face is mixed with emotions. Shock, bliss, anger, desperation, the list goes on with each scrunch of her tiny nose and flicker of her eyelashes. For some reason, it makes you feel bad.

“Hey, sorry if I went too far.”

“I’d call you good, because you are, but really—”

Jieun flicks your forehead, her middle finger leaving a red mark as you hiss.

“—fuck off. Don’t call me little!”

Fuck off you do. The door to the second to last room opens automatically. Inside you find the color of love and passion spread across the floor and up the walls. On shelfs and beds spread across the room you find toys usually used in BDSM sessions, everything from whips to gags to large dildos. You’re glad they spiced up the layout. Only red would have been boring.

“To the wall,” a voice suddenly commands from behind you.

“Oh, I see how it is,” you exclaim, voice oozing with joy, but the other person is not having it.

“To the wall, and hands above your head,” she repeats, this time pinching your side with rather pointy nails.

“Ouch, okay, okay, no need to get aggressive, young-lady-who-tries-to-sound- hard-with-a-soft-voice,” you babble, leaning back to the nearest wall and stretching your arms when suddenly, two hands stroke your cock.

“Shut it,” a tiny woman—really, even compared to Jieun she is tiny—in an extravagant dress snarks. She starts to twist both her hands in a corkscrew motion, one clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. Your cock feels grinded, violated and so you shout a quick apology.

“Ah, fuck, okay, I’m so-sorry. Please, s-stop.”

“No. You will suffer.

“And if you cum, I’ll kill you.”

She squats before you, her miniscule frame elevated lightly by the tall heels she wears. Otherwise, her mouth might not reach your dick properly. Speaking of which, she still has it twisted and you whimpering. To make matters worse, her hands are nothing compared to your size, so your swollen tip is still exposed, wide open to attacks from her wide open mouth.

Okay, maybe matters aren’t worse, she is quite talented at swirling her tongue over your sensitive slit while bathing you in her hot breath. She is a dragon, strangulating its victim to death and giving it a first feeling of what hell feels like.

“Pl-please, have mercy,” you wail, then side-eye the camera filming down from your shoulder. “I-If your man says this, ladies, your d-doing a good job.”

Suddenly, the twisting stops. Your tortured cock longs for something cold to ease the pain of its contorted skin. The mercy is short lived however. Her thumb and middle-finger form a seal around your base, like a cockring. Warm drool runs down from your tip in what feels like cruel streams of lava. It burns, you wince.

“Wh-what’s your—”

“Shut it, no words.”

Stubborn, unapproachable, she is a wall you cannot climb. You can only gawk in awe when she begins to jerk up and down in the same rhythm her mouth bops up and down. The pistons to a machine, well-oiled with her own saliva, it’s purpose: to make you cum. It’s a loud machine too, moaning, whimpering, stuttering.

Grit your teeth. Try not to think about the sweet release, your cum shooting right into her mouth. God, she would hate you for this sudden defiance, an insult and betrayal of the highest order. But she is too good and knows when to quicken the pace of her hands or press her lips down just below your cockhead. You are so close to losing it, and as you slowly glide down the wall, you have to announce it.

“N-no, fuck, I’m so clo—”

“Don’t,” she shouts and stops all her movement. The ring of her fingers squeezes down and you watch your cock stand swollen and throbbing, ready to do it—she does not allow it. You feel your orgasm vanish before it can properly hit you.

She looks pleased with your expression, with the tears in your eyes, with the fact that she has you blue-balled. Her job here is done, she lets go of your cock and with another stinging pinch, this time to your thigh, she kills your resolve. ‘Get out, you piece of shit,’ her eyes tell and you flee to someone who can salvage what's left of your lust.

“Th-this was insane,” you scream and run to the next door, through the next door. “What in the hell are you doing to me? This show is crazy. Girls, don’t do this to your husband without his agreement, he might just have a heart attack. This shit hurts, oh my God!”

“Now, now,” your co-host says calmly. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Well… uh…

“It was, let’s say, something new. But now I really need something to get me going again.”

Scan the room side to side. It looks like a furniture store, the olive green and dark oak brown giving off cozy vibes. Amidst all the decorative furniture, you find something, rather someone, who clearly doesn’t fit the color scheme. She is wearing an oversized, yellow sleeveless top, which even covers her butt, and her bright, white-blonde hair sticks out like a candle in the dark night. With her lying prone on a brand new, excessively large couch, one might assume that she is sleeping. It’s all an act of course.

Scoot over to her and tap her cheek. You have to tap it a couple of times, like an old button to make her brown orbs appear. They are so perfectly round, perfectly big, you could get lost in them.

“Hello, how was your sleep, beautiful?”

“I didn’t sleep,” she responds, her voice deep and sexy.

“Well, this definitely sounds like your morning voice.”

“Actually,” she responds and pulls up the sleeveless top to just above her wide hips and firm butt. “I’ve been waiting for you. I bet you don’t care about the couch and just want to test me out.”

“Actually,” you whisper, mimicking her deep voice with your own husky tone. “I’m only here for business reasons. It’s just testing the couch, nothing more.”

“Such a tease,” she complains when you press down your shaft on her back entrance. “You—ah, fuck—you can just tell me that I am hot.”

“All I know is that your ass is hot, damn,” you groan up into the air. There is happiness over yet another tight hole to fuck, but also a considerable amount of leftover pain from your cock getting treated like the prey of an anaconda. This mixture of feelings makes for a surreal experience where you find yourself holding back from pouding this young woman senseless because you couldn’t handle it.

“Ts,” she hisses. “You s-s-slide into me, not ask-ing for my name, and then you don’t even do your jo-job, ah!”

“I’d call this couch an inferior bed,” you suddenly say to the camera, making sure the slut below you is stimulated enough to not interrupt you. “It does not have the charme as the old ones and it lacks character. You would need to fuck on it a couple of times to give the right vibe, you know? Other than that, it’s comfy and big, so if you need space, while fucking each other—I’d still recommend a bed, to be honest.

“I also recommend you telling me your name, so I can deliberately not moan it.”

Bunch the blonde waves up and pull them back, not to hurt her, but to let her know that she was the one you were talking about. With tears in her eyes and a pained smile between her pink cheeks, she turns to look at you.

“Y-you’re so mean. What if I ju-just want to be loved?”

“Then you came to the wrong place, whore. I’m all about couches, really.”

“D-damn, that sucks. I’m Jinsoul by the way.”

“That was the weirdest time for you to tell me your name, you know that?”

Jinsoul murmurs and tries to avoid your eyes, but you force her head to stay close to yours. Something about her acted stupidity, paired with that illegally hot voice makes you want to ravish her more. There is nothing to be said about this couch, it’s mid and that’s it, but Jinsoul is quite intriguing. Unfortunately, the scene is not supposed to play out in a way that would reveal more about her.

You can change that however. Who would stop you? The director with his raging boner, too occupied to look at the footage that you've already filmed? Certainly not. Thus you take matters into your own hands.

"So you want to be loved, Jinsoul? Appreciated, admired, cared for? Why should I? I've had sex with countless porn stars; you'd have to make a pretty good case for yourself."

Stop your thrusts to let Jinsoul think, adapt to the changed style of the scene, to not make things awkward for the viewers or you. With an elegant flip, she sends her hair flying and presents to you her side profile.

"Have you ever seen a jaw this sharp?" she asks expectantly. "I'm sure it can cut itself into your heart."

You can't hide your amusement at Jinsoul's shenanigans and give her slow, deep thrusts that press her abdomen deep into the fabric. She moans happily when you nuzzle close to her, cheek to cheek. It'd be somewhat romantic if it weren't for the large 4k cam right in your face.

"You're a whole package, I'll give you that," you praise the woman below you. "Don't compare yourself all the time though. It can really harm your self-worth."

"Oh, now you're saying sweet words. I don't have to compare myself, I'm just that good, thank you very much."

"I think you love yourself enough, no need to inflate your ego more."

Hanging out with Jinsoul must be a fun time, she is very chill, can take a joke and has her own kind of humor. It just gets better when you have skinship with her. Let the viewers’ imagination play out the fuck buddies to lovers story with her, you’re just an insert.

Jinsoul clenches her butthole with excellent timing. The jolts of your pelvis onto her buttocks are met with firm resistance which urges you to go a tad bit faster until she clenches less and just lets her normal tightness do the job of giving you both pleasure.

For her this pleasure ends in a loud climax, not because she is a screamer, but because her pussy squirts hot liquid like a geyser. She has marked the couch, it's hers now. The smell won't go away, which you would definitely appreciate as her boyfriend. Jinsoul smells of sex, of playfulness, of want, always willing to go for another round.

You'd gladly go again with her, but you have to pull out. That's the only thing that consistently happens, apart from the annoying switching of rooms which appears to have ended. Jinsoul's room was the last one on this floor.

Next to it is a wall with a mirror which spans from the marble tiles to the ceiling and across the entire length of the floor. You curiously inspect it.

“I have to be honest, but I haven’t even noticed this until now. Putting this mirror here is a brilliant idea, it tricks you into thinking the corridor is twice the actual length. Anyways, I’m not here to test mirrors now, am I?”

“No,” someone responds in a frisky, feisty voice and you turn your head to look at her. “You’re here to film with me.”

The director, the staff members, basically everyone but the one cameraman who has been filming you this entire time stayed in Jinsoul’s room, so it’s obvious who said it. You would have noticed her anyways, even among a crowd of hundreds she sticks out. Long, slim legs that seem to never end have her high above most women you’ve met during your Asia Tour. Add to those legs a body wrapped in a luxurious black suit and an equally luxurious face plus the most expensive MiuMiu handbag on the market, and you got yourself a princess.

“Nice to meet you, Wonyoung,” you grin down at her. “It’s a pleasure to finally film something with you.”

“Likewise,” she reciprocates with a disinterested, skeptical smile, before looking down to your crotch. “Though I have to admit… I thought you would wear, well, something different—anything!”

“Now, now, no time for drama. I thought you knew about Just Testing.”

“Yeah,” she taps the tip of her white high-boots on the floor in slight annoyance. “but I also thought that you’d make an exception, because, you know, I’m here today.”

The implicitness in her tone leaves you stunned. She is demanding of people she has never met before, and it’s a natural thing for her. For her, the concept of rudeness seems to only apply to others—she is Wonyoung after all, she deserves everything. This attitude must have been in the making for quite some time, otherwise she wouldn’t have killed with it in her three debut videos, all high quality, all with guys whimpering and cumming all over themselves.

Begs the question if her manager told her that you are different from them.

“Oh,” you say surprised and scratch your chin in exaggerated wonder. “So you think that I would dress up right after shooting with, let’s see, ten different women, who couldn’t care less about clothing while we—”

“Are you done?” Wonyoung interrupts, her voice firm and more than slightly annoyed now. She crosses her arms and the handbag slides from her shoulder down to the crook of her elbow. Something about this posture empowers not only her bitchy attitude, but also your desire to, let’s say change it.

“Why should I be done?” you ask and mimic her posture, though you could never do it with such confident indignation.

“You think too much, you talk too much. I’d rather have my male colleagues be quiet.”

Like the arrows fired by a skilled archer, your arms find Wonyoung’s slender frame, more accurately, her pits, and you lift her up easily. Enough with her looking down at you when she is literally twenty centimeters smaller. Enough with her inflated ego when she is literally the skinniest woman you’ve seen today. Enough with her spoiled-princess attitude when she is literally begging for your ruining rod—well, she isn’t yet, but you can change that.

“What the fuck are you—hey!”

Turn to the mirror and press her against it. Wonyoung flails and kicks around with her high boots, but she is too high up to reach the ground. Make sure to keep her on exactly this level—below your eyes and above the ground. She is hovering in an uncomfortable limbo and by being so splendidly light, you can keep her there all day long.

“Should I answer your question?” you snark at her livid face. “Or would that be ‘talking too much’?”

“You pathetic, pathetic little creature!” Wonyoung barks back and slams her fists onto your biceps repeatedly. “You have nothing on me—”

“Oh, Wony, you have no idea. This is not school or college where you can bully the smaller girls and get away with it because of your looks. This is also not your debut video, where you get what you want. No. This time, I am the bully.

“Now strip.”

Silence, except for the cameraman scooting around you, filming the enthralling scene with his keen eye for detail. Getting Wonyoung’s face on tape while she scrunches is an easy task, but showing your erect cock poking her abdomen in the same frame is true craftsmanship.

“How dare yo—”

“Strip, Wony.”

“Don’t call me tha—”

“Then beg. Beg me to put you down again and I’ll call you by your full name, bitchy-princess.”

Wonyoung fights back, harder than before, but her punches are still laughable and her kicks don’t land where she wants them to land. To make her situation even more desperate, you press yourself against her, putting an end to her efforts. The only thing that can free her are those dreadful words that would poison her prideful character.

“Fuck you,” she mouths. “How the hell am I supposed to strip like this?”

“What? You think just because you’re suspended in the air you can’t open the buttons on your suit? I never thought you were this stupid, Wony.”

Though totally unwilling, Wonyoung starts to get the tips of her long fingers to her buttons and pop them open to reveal a plain shirt underneath. After short hesitation and an exasperated eye roll, she goes for the second rows of buttons, opening them slower and slower until she almost stops.

“Go on,” you say and pin her harder to the mirror. “Or do you need help?”

“Ts, you would ne—”

Wonyoung doesn’t blink in the time it takes you to drop her down and tear open the rest of her shirt. A black lace bra hides her small tits, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. There was no need to wear this many layers for a fucking porno shoot. Oh well, at least you can show Wonyoung and the viewers, who might have skipped the rest to just watch this scene that you’re still the protagonist of this show.

Pull at the bra and somewhere the fabric is unable to resist you. Wonyoung stumbles forward and you let her drop to the floor, straight into the crouching position intended for her. The opened suit and the tatters of her shirt slide down her shoulders, her hands fail to pull them back together to hide her pale collarbone.

"Why are you so timid now?" you ask and let your fingers run through her hair. "Was all this bitchy attitude fake?"

Up to this point, Wonyoung has been consistent and predictable in her character, as you'd expect from a talented yet experienced rising star. So it really takes you by surprise when she suddenly switches things up and goes off script. She rids herself off the remaining clothes and uses her sudden nudity as a flashbang: too busy gawking at her stunning, slim and slutty frame, you can't stop her from wrapping her lips around your dick.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Making you beg. Consider it a deserved punishment."

First your butt, then your entire back firmly falls against the cold surface of the mirror. Wonyoung's tongue not only twirls around your tip, it also makes your head twirl. Your mind shortly spins, spins towards losing control, until you regain control with a rough pull at Wonyoung’s hair. Entangle it more while she cries in pain and has to back off.

“Ouch, fuck, fuck! It hurts, stop!” she screams and fights back the tears in her eyes.

“I said that this is not your debut,” you growl in anger and hit her shivering lips with your rod. “You don’t control anything, and if you don’t start acting like it, I’ll force you to.”

Force her, you do. In a single push you break past her puckered lips, into the depths of her mouth and against the barrier in her throat. Wonyoung flails as she panics, but you just pull her hair harder and begin to rhythmically fuck her face. Her small chin takes slaps from your full balls; after all, you need to make sure that she adjusts to every last inch of your cock. It also feels great to know that this young slut finally gets pulled off of her high horse, and what better way to do it then drag your nuts over her messy face.

“N-no, my-my mascara!” Wonyoung whimpers, but you only need to pull her jaw down a bit to see her tongue flop out and drool on the floor. Fuck her face again for a couple thrusts more so that the camera can catch her throat bulging and gags escaping.

“You want to fix it?” you ask sarcastically and yank her head to the mirror. “Good thing that we have a mirror right here.”

Wonyoung cries more, the way you’ve ruined her make-up unbearable for her to look at. Instead of looking away however, she continues to stare at herself. She becomes passive, an observer to what you do to her body. The slaps of your cock on her increasingly glossy lips and puffy face don’t affect her, the hair pulling is nothing but a hot visual and the way she deepthroats you makes her pussy twitch.

“I don’t think you need fixing,” you groan while you poke the inside of her cheek with more gentle thrusts. You join her and the camera by inspecting her top to bottom, from dazed orbs across a small chest to her white boots. Wonyoung has started to spread her legs, hence the incredible view of her prominent abs and tight-looking pussy.

“Ah, fuck it.”

Smash Wonyoung’s head down on your phallus. The unexpected vigor makes her lose her footing. She falls to her knees, but you continue to slam her down, make her gawk on you. Wonyoung has resigned herself to your heartless, reckless use of her throat and gags mindlessly. Like a fleshlight you jerk her onto you with one thing in mind: a quick climax.

You have already filmed so much content, had many asses or faces to fuck and maybe fill, but it is only now that you want to finish quickly. The bickering with Wonyoung has been long enough. She has somewhat learned her place, and you want to make sure it sticks in her mind, so you got to give her something sticky.

The edging session by the nameless girl from before has you hesitant for long enough that you don’t cum deep in Wonyoung’s throat, but in her mouth. Sperm shoots out of you, fills her feisty cheeks and then oozes through the tiny gaps on each side of your cock. Wonyoung is crazy enough to suck some of it in, so you pull out to make her an absolute mess. An avalanche of pearly white runs down her chin and chest, down to her navel. It doesn’t happen in one go, but two, three, four spurts while Wonyoung struggles to swallow and instead gurgles it up.

“You disgusting whore.”

“I-I did not—fuck, there’s s-so much of it.”

“Welcome to being a cum slut, Wony. Next time, I’ll make sure that your cunt looks just like your mouth right now. Fits you better than the bitchy-princess-thing you’re trying to pull.”

You clean your cock by rubbing it over her forehead. Wonyoung’s entire being is frozen, no response, no emotions, no attempts to clean up. Is it still acting at this point? Who knows, it fits what you were going for in this scene. Although you’d really like to hear her thoughts (and maybe get her number), you don’t have time right now. The other cameraman is already filming you walking down the marble hallway, while the co-host walks up to you with applause.

"Bravo! This must be a new record. In such little time you have tested one, two three, four, five, six, seven—"

"Eleven," you interrupt him. "Eleven sessions of testing."

"Which is amazing, but are you up for the challenge and ready to continue right now?" He looks at you expectantly, but you just walk past him with determination.

"It seems that you don’t know me. Of course I’m ready.”

“Splendid. Please follow me outside and listen closely because we will spice things up a bit.” You follow him closely through the familiar dressing room and then an inconspicuous door you haven’t noticed during your preparations. “Are you familiar with our Role Playing Game?”

“The game where you give a prompt and I have to adapt my behavior to it?”

“Exactly. I need you to be focused, because we will play four rapid fire rounds,” he says, the last doorknob firmly in his hand. “Right behind this metal door, is the outside. Don’t worry, we have guaranteed privacy—”

“Dammit—I mean…”

That one was for the show, though you have to admit that public sex with the possibility of someone catching you and either getting extremely flustered, angry or aroused is a huge turn-on for you. But these companies always make sure to rent private property, hidden gardens or those fake buses for the shootings. No one will even sniff a hint of the juices your going to fuck out of the women on the next view sets.

“Well then, too bad for you,” the co-host brings you back from your dreams and starts to read from his cue card. “Here is the first prompt: Never having played golf before.

“And action!”

Push through the door and get greeted by the bright, warm rays of sunlight beaming from above. Beneath your bare toes, the cold marble from before pales in comparison to the soft grass you now walk on. It’s not any kind of grass either; it’s the light green grass of a tiny golf course, complete with starting spot, sand bunker and putting green. On said putting green lies a woman in a green and white golfing outfit, surrounded by a colorful palette of golf balls. She holds a golfing club upside down in one hand, the other suddenly points at you.

“You there!” she shouts. “Come here, I need your help.”

“How can I help you, Miss…”

“I’m Sooyoung and I have a confession to make: I have no idea how to play golf, but I’d really like to try.”

“Well,” you say awkwardly and scratch the back of your head. “I only know the basics of golf, so I might not be a big help, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sooyoung cheerfully smiles, fitting for her pretty features. “We’ll find out together. I believe you are a big help already. Tell me what you know.”

“I think golf is about putting something into a hole,” you claim and then claim the position behind Sooyoung.

“Hm, there is a hole right here,” Sooyoung notes as she gathers the balls around her in sweeping motions of her arm and then hastily rolls them into the deep golfing hole. “But it’s already stuffed.”

“Well, here is a hole that is not yet stuffed.” Pull up the hem of Sooyoung’s skirt and spread her cheeks to reveal a puckered, clenching entrance. “Maybe this is the correct one.”

“You should go first. You’re the sexper—I mean expert on gol-f-ing.”

Sooyoung has a special place in your heart already. Her lines on paper were underwhelming, but the way she casually rolls them off of her tongue has you enjoying things until now. Her initial moans only increase the respect you have for her, as they sound more like someone being in awe because they're seeing their favorite sport for the first time than someone getting her ass penetrated. Her experience in acting shows.

“Oh damn,” she giggles. “So this is golfing. I-I think I have to get used to it first.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised too. I did not know the hole would actually keep it inside. I thought you could just pull out and play again.”

“Maybe noobs have to live with only playing one round~”

What a perfect tease, you can’t deny that. Not bitchy and demanding, more a challenge to spur you on and get the best out of you. Sooyoung is somewhat like a coach that fires you up—what fires you up further is her tight asshole relaxing, getting ready for a couple more rounds.

“Well, I think I have to repeatedly train to go from noob to a respectable amateur,” you groan and start to move your hips up and down in a pistoning motion.

“Yes, yes! L-let’s train together to have more fun at golfing.”

Sooyoung gradually sways her ass thus you poke all over her insides. She finds a spot that she likes your cock to violate and pulls her cheeks apart to announce it. Something about ‘a bigger hole makes playing easier’ was in the script, but the two of you are too caught up in pleasure to add it here. That does not mean that Sooyoung has given up on playing her role yet.

“Oh yes! I-I think you just got a hole-in-one!”

“That do-does… is… not on par with my golf knowledge.”

Sooyoung digs her teeth into her lip to not laugh, not cum at exactly this moment. Unfortunately for her, you have different plans and drill your cock a faster than she was able to handle before. The woman below you rocks back and forth on the grass, both sets of lips leaking. It’s a last second orgasm for her because—

“Round 1 is over” the co-host mouths barely in your field of view. You pull your cock out of Sooyoung’s ass and don’t fight the urge to give her cheeks tiny slaps with your cock. After that, the crew is already urging you to move away from the golfing course. Your co-host points to a spot behind what is supposed to look like the hidden corner of a school yard with hedge-like bushes, construction fences and trash baskets.

“The second prompt,” the co-host shouts from behind the cameras. “A sexual agreement, gone wrong!”

Get into character. Hide behind the bushes and look for anyone who might pass by. Every movement, may it be just a gust of wind, makes you jump. You’re on your toes, ready to run away if one of the professors passes by. Luckily, you don’t have to wait any longer.

“Sorry,” a girl dressed in tight, rebellious attire, a short red skirt and a cropped varsity jacket whimpers in between huffs and puffs. Her take on the local school uniform must leave every professor speechless and enraged. “I got scolded by the math prof and she just didn’t stop.”

“Jeez, at least try to sneak here,” you scold here while putting a construction fence next to the wall as an extra barrier. “What if someone saw you. Gaeul, I swear to God, these bitches have a bad influence on you,”

“Oh, and you don’t, huh?” Gaeul crosses her arms. “And don’t call them bitches, okay? Yujin and Liz are my friends!”

“They are tyrants and only see you as a minion to do their stuff. How many times have you gotten in trouble for them?” Gaeul stays silent, looking at you angrily, though there is a hint of longing in her eyes. “See, I told you they were no good.”

“You’re no good either. Look what we’re about to do.”

“But it was your idea, Gaeul. I didn’t ask you to eat your pussy after classes.”

Gaeul rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue at your words. A faint blush on her cheeks however betrays her. You have no doubt that she is greedy to get your tongue inside her. You love her for this confidence and you despise that she always gets away with it.

“So? Will you finally eat me, pretty please?” Gaeul tries to imitate the shy virgin she surely isn’t and you’ve had it with her antics. Watch her put a finger into her short hair, it’s color the same as the hazelnuts underneath your toes, and curl the hair playfully. You want to do the same.

“Nah, I’m actually pretty pissed,” you tell her and step closer. “So how about we play rock, paper, scissors. One round, whoever loses has to pleasure the other first.”

“You mean to tell me that I have to suck you off?”

“Can’t be that weird to you, considering what we do so often—or are you scared to get caught with cock in your pretty little mouth?”

“N-no, of course not,” Gauel stutters and pulls the finger out of her messy hair. “I’ll win anyways.”

A tense face off, both contestants have their fists stretched from their body. As the rhythmic saying starts, they both swing their arms side to side rapidly until the final word reaches its final syllable and the two hands explode into their respective symbols—that’s probably how a commentator would describe the match.

Gaeul has two of her fingers spread apart to show scissors. You on the other hand kept your fist compacted in a solid block. Your rock smashes Gaeul’s unstable scissors, though she tries to stab you with them by going to town on your chest.

“You. Fucking. Bastard.”

“Calm down, I’ll eat you out afterwards. Now stop being a sore loser and get down.”

Make sure she can only keep eye contact while starring skywards. The height difference is incredible, Gaeul can’t help but gulp. But maybe that gulp was because she puts her hand under your cock and cannot imagine it fitting inside her mouth.

“F-fine.”

Gaeul hesitantly squats down, gives you a glance that speaks volumes to how much she just wants to get licked and tongue fucked. She puts a lot on the line for your wet muscles entering her cunty-cave and wiggling inside it. She might not look forward to a big career after college life is over, but she still has a strong sense of honor and cares for her public perception. Getting caught like this is a substantial risk.

Gaeul slowly opens her mouth, your cock resting on her lower lip. Deep breaths widen and narrow her nostrils, her hands don’t know what to hold onto. In your bedroom, she is not this cautious and her pace is far from that of a fucking snail, so you get a hold of her head and push her onto your rod.

“My God, Gaeul,” you groan, finally not the dry air, but gentle wetness around your tip. “You’re getting on my nerves. Do it on your own, or you can forget about the agreement.”

Your hands get swatted away and in rage, Gaeul bops her head up and down over the first third of your cock. This is much more to your liking, similar to how fast she does it while you’re sitting on your bed. If she continues and you get a sweet release, she certainly qualifies for passionate nibbles around her clit, while you do everything in your power to make her drown you in sweet girl-cum.

God, Gaeul tastes so damn sweet, you could talk about it all day every day, but at this moment, your mind is too occupied with focusing on her taking more inches with slower bops. Gaeul gurgles and spits, a sudden gust of wind forces goosebumps all over your skin. Coldness on your cock, then the warm mouth, is she planning this?

“Fuck, this is good,” you coo and try to pat Gaeul’s beautiful short hair, but she stares you down, her gaze a great threat, although you don’t know what she could actually do to you. You’re a lot taller, stronger, calculated—but she has her teeth very close to your cock. Makes you think.

“Excuse me, hello? What are you doing there?”

Oh fuck, someone found you. You peek over the hedge and see a professor of almost equal height look right back at you. He approaches the hedge from the other side with this cliche look of an angry, unstable teacher approaching what they assume is students breaking rules—and you’re not only breaking petty rules, but also damn laws.

Gaeul has a natural reaction and hopes to quickly get you out of her mouth and try to look as innocent as possible, which is absolutely futile because you're fully naked and you actually reach for the back of her head. ‘What are you fucking doing?’ her eyes scream when you shove her back down until the professor reaches the construction fence.

“You kids these days think you’re allowed to do anything, huh?”

He frantically shakes the metal beams as your legs copy their motions, but before you can cream into Gaeul’s still sloppily licking mouth, you have to abort everything. Get out of Gaeul, out of the unveiled hideout, out of the scene.

“The third prompt,” the co-host announces in something resembling euphoria as he pulls your arm to a camping van. “Trying to sell a van in only one minute!”

There is no time to breathe, it all has to happen fast. To switch from one character to the other might be well-prepared, but you can never underestimate how hard it actually is. Turn to the camera, treat it like a person you’re trying to convince, like you’re selling them a motorized vehicle, not the illusion that is this video.

“This van is our flagship product. It comes in two colors: black and silver, but I’m sure you do not care about the exterior. Height, width and weight are all in the manual that you will get later on. The real gem of this model is inside it. Please follow me.”

Step up a tiny ladder into the van’s cozy interior, with a tiny kitchen area in the back, an even smaller toilet room in the back and a mattress that basically fills out the rest. No one would be convinced that this design is sensical or practical at all, if it wasn’t for the naked woman lying on top of the mattress.

“This van has got everything, but I’m sure you have heard this phrase everywhere, so I will tell you why exactly our product is superior. If you travel the world as two or three or maybe even four, you have enough space to sleep on and do other activities, like this.”

You climb up on the bed and give Hwasa’s fat ass a couple of rubs before you find her familiar hole and drill yourself inside. You know from previous sessions with her that anal makes her hum for some reason and that these hums suddenly turn to deep, deadly groans, which could either scare the customer off or attract them even more. Anyways, you don’t have time, so speed up.

“No matter how hard you like to do it, no matter—oh fuck—how loud you are, no one will hear you. Imagine being alone in the woods, loving the sun, nature, life itself—and then fucking your brains out like rabbits. You get what I mean? Isn’t this feeling worth so much?”

For the camera, you’re begging the customer for money. In your head, you’re begging for Hwasa’s butthole to not squeeze you too tightly. She wrings out so many men, has them cum all over her smooth, sun-kissed skin, but for you she is extra tight. At this point you might be stuck, and you’re not talking about what’s next in the script.

Your hands move to Hwasa’s shoulder, pin her down while you jackhammer her hole deep, widen it with the entire circumference of your dick to the point the van starts to vibrate throughout. Suddenly, the camera slowly backs off. You should give the customer a final catchphrase to make sure they’ll call back soon to get the van and all its features. Hwasa fights the script and wraps one of her strong arms around your neck to keep you right there, motionless inside her for a few seconds longer.

“F-fuck, I need to—”

“Fuck the director, really,” Hwasa groans back, but you can’t stay. No, no, no, you really can’t, yet it’s quite scary to tell her that. Given that she is small, you can just run away—again. Storm out of the van under the angry roar of Hwasa, right to the awaiting co-host.

“Prompt four?” you ask, pretending to be joking and out of breath.

“Well, yeah, there is a fourth prompt. Right at this wall.”

He points to one of the outside walls of the hotel, which has been painted to resemble… something. You actually care too little about this detail, the hard cobblestones below you are a much bigger issue to you. They feel uncomfortable to stand on. At least you can rely on your fellow actress to deliver. She’s already leaning on the colorful stripes painted on the wall’s paneling, immersed in her role.

“The fourth prompt: the rent is due and she has no money. Go!”

“Hey, Ms. Wang!” You jump into character without warning, making Yiren’s shocked reaction a genuine one. “You’re late on your payment, again. This is the third time already this year, for fucks sake, it’s not even June yet!”

“Please calm down, y-you will get it soon,” Yiren tries to bargain for more time. She tends to get out of trouble with her charms, her cute, small face for example, but she has crossed all of your red lines already. She will pay up now or suffer the consequences, legal or illegal ones.

“No, I wanted it a week ago. You know I give everyone an extra week all the time, but you’re the only one who needs it regularly, and today I’ve had it. I woke up, checked the bank, and you still haven’t paid! This is the last straw, Ms. Wang.”

“I-I’m sorry, okay? It’s been rough, I couldn’t get the mon—”

“We had an agreement! Fuck it, either you leave until Friday or I’ll kick you out myself.”

“No, please!” Yiren drops to her knees and lowers her head. “Please don’t kick me out, I-I can only stay here!”

“I don’t want to hear any weak excuses, I just want my money,” you groan and turn away from her.

“I don’t have any money. Y-you can check, it’s all gone.”

“Then you should leave, Ms. Wang, no need to make this ugly.”

“I-is there no way…”

Yiren looks up to you with perfect timing to catch your gaze at her mesmerizingly marvelous features.

“...I can pay you differently this time?”

“What do you mean?”

Raise an eyebrow when Yiren begins to squat before you and grins lewdly.

“I can make you want me forever. All I need is this.”

Her fingers go for your base, they glide alongside it, then down to your balls. Wordlessly, she then adds her lips to them, only for a moment, until she wanders to your thigh and places kisses all over it. To show approval, you rake her slightly damp hair with your sweaty hand. An odor of strawberry and salt faintly stimulates your senses. Yiren was in the shower not too long ago, she is a lot cleaner than you are. Go figure, after fourteen scenes a couple of scents are bound to stick on you like a layer of lustful perfume.

“This is indeed good,” you whisper and nod in the pattern Yiren strokes your base. “But it’s not yet worth the rent of your flat.”

“I haven’t even started yet, Sir.”

A final kiss on your now lipstick-covered thigh, then Yiren jumps to your tip to proceed with the much smaller, much more sensitive surface. Her delicate strawberry lips part a little for the smooches she so tenderly uses to get your blood out of your head into your head. It’s very effective.

“Wow, I did not know you could suck cock like a hungry whore.”

“How did you think I make my money?”

“Honest work?”

Yiren chuckles. It’s adorable, her outer appearance as a whole is, but apparently the rumors about her were true. As her landlord, it could cost you a lot of money if you keep falling for her skills after this one session. Maybe it’s her strategy to get new customers, and you have fallen for it like a fool.

“Wait a second,” you hiss just when Yiren is about to suck you in deeper. “Why didn’t you just make money then? Who would reject such a woman if she was offering herself.”

Yiren simply shrugs.

“I was just lazy, I guess. This cock right here will save me so much money.”

“And what if you’re all talk and I say you haven’t deserved it yet.”

“That’s not going to happen, Sir.”

Is Yiren really up to the challenge? To say that the answer is a doubtless ‘yes’ is still an understatement to how fucking good she actually is. Millions of people have rolled their tongue along and around a swollen glans, yet none have mastered it the way this chinese beauty has. Everywhere her tongue touches, it doesn’t matter if it’s the underside or the topside, bursts of pleasure electrify your nervous system.

“Oh, shit.”

Take a step back, search for the wall with your hand to find stability during Yiren’s knee-shaking, mind-melting blowjob. There is not much to see for everyone watching this, thus you have to go all out with your reactions. You know Yiren is not the best at taking it deep down, you have to work around it; luckily, she knows how to.

“I see you like it?” Yiren laughs with casual confidence, slapping you against her lips before finding your balls with them. Your cock rests upon her forehead, yet her eyes still try to stare at it. She crosses them while slobbering all over your perineum area. “Isn’t this so much better than rent?”

“You fucking hooker, fuck,” you groan with no need to exaggerate your volume for the cameras which capture both your and Yiren’s point of view perfectly. It’s going to end up in a wild porno, however you can’t deny the craftsmanship that goes into getting the pictures. Ah, don’t kid yourself: if it weren’t for all these girls being so hot and your dick being this long, no one would spend their hard earned money on this.

“Our customer service can also finish the job,” Yiren says with the voice of a skilled saleswoman, her skilled hands giving you a sample of what she can provide.

“I-I think I’ll have to come back then.”

“Does this mean you’re satisfied with the new way of collecting rent?”

“Ah, fuck, yes. Fuck you, you fucking hooker.”

A cheerful eye-smile and a pop to free your sack ends the scene with Yiren. Your stint of acting while acting was a short, stamina-draining one, though the self-immersion in these dumb characters has helped you keep the second load for later. These four vixen might have been great, but ‘cumming without control’ was never part of any of the prompts. Those viewers who like to see an orgasm to finish themselves off still have to wait and edge. Good boys and girls.

“Are we going back in?” you ask the co-host who skips towards an emergency door on the far end of the hotel.

“Yes, yes! We, no, you have so much left to test. Please go to the booth on the right.”

He is filled with a sense of hype, maybe it’s all the sex clouding his mind in horniness. As long as he does his job, there should be no problem. You do as he says, finding a booth about the size of the rooms from before. There is a huge lamp on the ceiling for proper lighting and a cozy carpet on the floor for proper testing. It has the color and smell of lavender—or is it the girl under the lamp that smells like the famous flower?

“Nice to meet you,” you greet the girl with her lavender colored lips and skirt, though the tightly wrapped piece of clothing is a stronger shade of purple. It resembles lavender the best, now that you think about it.

“H-hi,” she stutters and waves her hand in tiny. “My n-name is Rei, I’m from Ja-Japan.”

“You are a very attractive woman, Rei, the make-up looks great on you, just like the buns.” You flood her with compliments, your charm does the rest. Rei’s tense shoulders relax a bit, and they stay relaxed when you step closer to her,

“Th-thank you, that’s very nice of you.”

“Are you nervous?”

Rei’s trembling hands move to the hem of her skirt and she loosens it to show her hairy pussy. Her thighs are too big, they keep the skirt from falling all the way down.

“A bit, yes, but I really want this.”

Rei points to your cock which starts to poke her tummy, a few centimeters above her hidden clit. You place your hands on her sides and delicately spin her around. To your surprise, Rei not only has monumental breasts, which sadly are not your focus today, her buttocks are also round and firm, definitely well-trained.

“You’re excited?” you ask her, fingers running circles on her ass. “I know I am, your body is very ruinable, perfect for testing.”

“Y-yes. Pl-please be gentle with m-my a-ass.”

“I will, trust me. Just relax and lay down.”

Rei’s curvaceous body sinks into the thick, fluffy carpet, which, to your surprise, might actually work very well as a surface to fuck on. Align yourself with Rei’s booty, which could also be described as thick and fluffy, and before penetrating her tight ring, you lean close to her ear.

“You’re still not fully relaxed, Rei,” you coo, your thumb drawing circles on her painted cheek.

“I-I’m trying—”

“Don’t try. Take deep breaths. Tell me what you like, and we can make it work, hm?”

Rei takes deep breaths under your touch, her bountiful bosom heaves for what could be an amazing visual. The camera only catches her cleavage and her tongue starting to protrude from her lips.

“I la-la-la-like my tongue being played with,” Rei hums timidly, but you show no hesitation and move your fingers inside her mouth. Wiggle her tongue in between them and feel her hot breath graze them while you graze the immaculate ass crack.

With a reminder to be gentle, you insert yourself into Rei. About half of your cock fits inside of her, then she starts to bite down on your fingers. You hiss, but try not to make too much of a show out of it. With slow thrusts you let her asshole get used to the new sensation that is your length and width.

Rei’s expression must be one for the ages, as the cameraman filming her face seems absolutely thrilled about the footage he is getting. It might just be Rei’s charm or make-up, who knows what these crazy guys like. They have seen it all, over and over again, to the point where they can only feel something when you hit them with a baseball bat.

“How does it feel, Rei?” you ask her without stopping your rhythm-less short thrusts.

“V-very big, very good, ah! I-I can feel all of you.”

“But… I’m not even all the way in.”

“What?”

You feel Rei’s jaw drop and take the opportunity to explore her mouth more. Your fingers roam and fiddle everything they can find, making Rei fall into a haze.

“Should I put it all the way in?”

You hold yourself back from slamming down, waiting for Rei to groan her response past your fingers. It’s to your liking.

“Yesh, pleash. I can tak it.”

Can’t deny a lady her request, especially not one so urgent and easy to fulfill. With pleasure your tip searches for your pleasure, her pleasure, in an apparently endless cavern of pressure—it’s not the first you’ve explored today. They are all unique, special in their own way, narrow goodness that engrains onto the skin of your thoroughly used cock.

“You’re doing so good, Rei, I’m so proud of you. Having sex on a carpet is great, but you made it unforgettable.”

“Th—ha, oh my~”

Swear to God you slipped. No, really, you wanted to retreat from the darkest part of the cavern, but then your knee was unstable on the carpet and you gave Rei a hard jolt. It luckily ended in her moaning stupidly and not flailing and crying.

“I think I’ll have to pull out, sorry about that.”

“I-I love it, th-thank you!”

Another girl you made addicted to anal; it’s a great feeling to convey to an unsuspecting, silly audience who at this point has surely lost their mind at the insane length and scope of this episode. You will treat them to so much more, which is why you hurry to find the next actress.

You begin to recognize her from afar, the long, slender frame, covered in torn fishnets and overall skimpy clothing. Her lips are crimson red, her tied-up hair black and blonde—

—the massive choker around her throat is the final detail, absolutely crucial to your kinky plan.

“There will never be a day where I am not ready to fuck you, Yoohyeon.”

“Wow,” she replies in shock. “I have never been greeted this rudely. Have these girls made you stupid?”

“Get down and pray that these shoes will keep you from falling, because I won’t.”

You reach for the back of her choker and roughly yank it. In short bursts Yoohyeon loses her connection to the fresh air surrounding her. Things get worse for her oxygen flow when you shove your cock into her mouth without interrupting the strangulation.

Instantaneously, Yoohyeon is a crying, gagging mess, her humanity turned off in favor of the primal instinct to survive. However, she is not strong enough to break free, your cock is like a constant pendulum swinging deep into her throat. From the outside, the ring of her choker helps you with stimulation. It presses right on your slit, milking some of your clear and salty precum out.

“If your girl is a freak like Yoohyeon,” you address the camera, still lost in Yoohyeon’s empty, glassy gaze. “Make sure to switch, switch, switch things up. Become unhinged, unpredictable, unstoppable. Do stuff like this!”

Grab Yoohyeon’s ponytail and rapidly move her head in circles, creating a wet tornado of saliva when you pull out. The constant forced motion makes it fly everywhere. Yoohyeon voices her dizziness with shrieks, which will not become words.

“Or this.”

Smack her right cheek with the back of your hand, it slips right off due to all the tears and runny make-up. This time, you not only shove your cock all the way in, you also move forward. Yoohyeon has to lean backwards further then she ever has during her face fucks. Her many scenes did not prepare her for this, her large boots start to lose her grip.

“Show her your new side and why you’re special,” you end your demonstration and the camera catches how Yoohyeon falls over, free from your filling cock, searching for air. Before she can complain or ask for more, you must flee.

Sneak away, around the corner, it’s just a couple of steps into what appears to be a dark alley. Three beds are placed on one side, different sizes, different styles, and opposite of them are three very different doors. One looks like it leads to the room of a young, single woman still living with her parents. She is too lazy to change the pink door with the Hello Kitty stickers from her childhood, so it stays. The second door has a hostel vibe to it. Brown color has been painted on it and now flakes off along with the century old mold below it. The last door looks like it has been stolen out of a world famous hotel. It’s the color of marble, has gold ornaments neatly spread around and the number ‘30’ is in the center of it.

“What the fuck is this?” you think out loud, hearing the footsteps of multiple people behind you.

“Hey, y-you’re too quick,” the co-host complains from behind. “Let me explain what’s about to happen here.”

“I’m all ears. Seriously though, why can’t we just go back to the real hotel rooms? Did you really have to steal a door from the hostel across the street? And what about the—”

“A-nyways!” the co-host interjects with an awkward laugh and swipes his hands like windshield wipers. “We need your expert opinion on these three models. Their sheets are the same, the differences not as obvious—”

“What are you talking about?” you complain. “You don’t need an expert for this. We have a big bed, then a small bed and then a bigger bed, end of story.”

“J-just lay down on the first one, you’ll get it very soon.”

You cut some corners in the dialogue, which is mostly because you didn’t want to torture the dear viewers with terrible jokes—something with bet, bad and bed, makes you want to throw your career away. Without further instructions you climb into the first bed, wrap yourself in a blanket and pretend to sleep. Yup, this is a bed alright. Literally your everyday bed, nothing too fancy, nothing that could annoy you.

“Okay what do you want me to say about this?” The camera catches your annoyed eye-roll. “Am I test-sleeping now?”

“Far from it. Yena, it’s your turn.”

The pink door opens, a girl in a white hoodie and short, plaid skirt walks into the scene and before you can blink twice, she is in the bed with you, pretending to use it like it’s hers. For a minute you watch her, as she plays on her phone, rolls around a bit and then suddenly decides to fiddle her panties out from underneath the skirt.

You see erotic videos pop up on her phone screen. Yena starts to caress her thighs, rub the shaven area near her clit, never daring to go all in. She bites her lips as overacted moans screech from the old speakers on her phone. This is not doing it for her—even the overstimulated consumer who is still watching your video knows. Luckily, she has what she needs right behind her.

Wordlessly, you bunch up her skirt and search for her puckered hole. Yena instinctively lifts up one of her legs. She winks at you before her mouth opens wide in a moan that echoes through the hallway. Finally she has what the women on the screen have: a large cock in her ass. In the video she basically sees what’s happening to her rectum. You stretch it apart, widen her hole, a new entrance for pleasure.

“What are you waiting for?” you devilishly growl into Yena’s ear. “Use your fingers, and I’ll promise that you’ll cum harder than her.”

It is with ridiculously perfect timing (like there was a script) that the porn star on Yena’s screen loses control of her body, it rocks and jerks in all directions as the cock stops fucking into it. You know that Yena takes a close look at the actress's face, covered in sweat and happiness when her fingers dive to her clit.

“Yes, please, make me cum,” she begs, out of breath from her own touch, your pelvis hitting her butt and your cock stuffing her hole.

Reach for the leg Yena struggles to keep up in the air and use it as a lever to slam faster into her. Meanwhile Yena’s fingers are eager to quickly send her over the edge in what can only be described as the best of two worlds. Her small, cute thumb is slow and soft, treating her clit with utmost care, while the rest plunges and curls inside her wetness recklessly, harsher than you would allow yourself to treat her. You can even feel her rub you from the other side and figure that you’re just a prop now, a dildo for Yena to masturbate with.

“Ah, I’m so close, God, I’m cuuuuummmmmiiiiing!”

Okay, she definitely watched too much porn and read the wrong kind of fanfiction to have such a ludicrous, forced reaction. You’re not here to judge her, so you hold her slutty waist steady and thrust up until Yena’s body mimics that of her idols. She trembles uncontrollably, moans, screams, her eyes roll back—the entire porno-package—basically your life in a nutshell.

“Finger yourself stupid,” you command. Yena does not notice that you're suddenly absent from her gaping hole, she is too engaged in what she can do to herself without anyone’s assistance. The crew films glimpses of Yena still going at it, cunt pierced open, clit hard and clearly protruding.

“No, I’m cuuuummming agaainnnnnnnn, ahhhhhh!”

That’s enough for you. Jump onto the next bed without much care, it creaks and squeaks, the springs feel old and used. This won’t be the first time someone fucks on this mattress. At least they changed the sheets before letting you test it. You also can’t deny their attention to detail: this bed clearly fits the vibe and feel of an old, suspicious hostel.

“This is not comfortable, ouch,” you whine to the camera, half acted, half serious. “No one intended that two people would use this bed at the same time, but at the same time I really think that no one ever slept here alone. If they did, poor soul.”

“What if we let you sleep in there alone?” the co-host asks and wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m just kidding—”

“And I’m just testing!”

Kill me. Not now, but after this shoot, make sure to shoot me.

“Sua, it’s your turn!”

The ancient door opens, a woman in a yellow crop top and a skirt with teddy bears and blueberry muffins printed on it walks into the scene and before you can blink twice, she is in the bed with you, pretending to use it like she’s owning it for the night. For a minute you watch her, the toned muscles on her back, her biceps, her spotless legs, until she pulls dark glasses out of her even darker hair.

“You know what beds like this and nights like these are for,” she suddenly sighs, putting the glasses on her pointy nose. “Don’t keep me waiting, boy, or I’ll make you see stars.”

The contortion of disgust on Sua’s features make her already attractive face an illegal amount hotter. The glasses add a surprising touch, the pictures really do not do her justice. Move your hands underneath the shorts and they are no more, discarded in the room like Yena, who still masturbates.

“This is better,” Sua hums, nodding in approval at the alignment of your erection. “Come, give me a kiss.”

Natural is the way your lips go down to get hers. Sua has the tone of a demanding teacher, who uses strictness and rewards to get the best out of her disciples. The notion of being above her because you have a greater pool of experience fades when she takes the lead. Your thrusts, their strength and their speed are under Sua’s full control.

“Lower. Lower. No, not there.”

She smacks your collarbone, threatens to pull you down by the throat if you don’t get your act together. The bed is long forgotten, Sua’s pleasure comes first. To hear her moan is a completely different feeling, the gratification not connected to the tightness around your rod, but the knowledge that you’re doing it right.

“That’s the spot, yes.”

“Should I go faster?”

“A little bit. Be careful not to slip out.”

“I won’t.”

Things are a lot calmer, quieter, not the kind of content you usually produce. Being approved by the producers, you trust that this is what at least someone likes to see: slow sex, low moans, hands respectfully resting on the other's body—and of course Yena’s sounds of blissful self-love in the background.

“I won’t say a positive thing about this shitty bed,” you speak towards one of the microphones, noticing that the cameramen are occupied with getting Sua’s ass and her face on tape. “I can only say positive things about this woman though, she—”

“Shhh, I don’t want to hear it. Keep on fucking, that’s a lot better.”

She is goddamn right, it is better. Sometimes even a talking head like you has to shut up and do the part of your job you’re actually good at. Your muscles start to feel the wear and tear of the intense session you’ve powered through to get here. Sua’s wish for you to keep the same pattern does not help, you need some way to let loose, or else your stamina will run out before you’ve reached the end.

“Fuck it, I’m going in!” a voice suddenly shouts from another room. Though it may be subdued, you can hear the neediness in it.

The luxurious door opens, a woman in a thin, way too short emerald dress and beige high-heels walks into the scene and before you can blink twice, she is in the bed next to you, combing her blonde strands with her hands. For a second you watch her and the bratty look of defiance on her face.

‘Somi, get the fuck back here’ one of the crew members mouths, you see him flailing his arms angrily in the corner of your eye. Also in the corner of your eye is Somi sticking out her tongue to the guy, whose face turns every shade of red and blue until he gives up and leaves the set. Finally there is some chaos here, time to use your impromptu acting charm to save this mess.

“Excuse me for a second,” you whisper to Sua, stroking along her raven hair. “I have to do something asap. I’ll be back.”

“Sure,” she groans quietly.

“Hey, you!” you address Somi and walk along the massive bed. “Who are you and what are you doing on this bed?”

“I’m Somi.” A bitchy smirk. “And I have claimed this bed, sorry. First come first serve.”

“Unfortunately I have to test this, so do you mind getting off of it?”

Somi clicks her tongue and tries to look past you, but her eyes are drawn to the massive size of your glistening cock.

“I do mind, I’m not going to move and if you don’t get this fucking thing out of my face, I’ll call security.”

“You’re getting closer to it, Somi, I bet you can’t wait to have it inside of you.

“Let’s make a deal: I test the bed, while I fuck you prone.”

“Tempting,” Somi murmurs, nails tapping the side of your phallus. “I doubt that it will be fun though. Can you even satisfy me~?”

“Bitch, everyone can satisfy a bimbo like you.”

As soon as you get on top of the sheets, Somi takes a defensive position. She is on her back, the pointy end of her heels pointed dangerously close to your eyeball. The director, unable to influence the scene at this point, has his nervous, sweaty hands up in his hair. He knew all too well that Somi does what she wants and that her persona has to be tamed by another force on screen—you. After this, you’re going to ask for a fucking raise each time you’re forced to work overtime to control these fucking brats..

“Yes, keep looking at my pussy,” Somi purrs and pulls up her dress up to her waist. “But you can’t touch it. Touching is for men only~”

“Unimpressive, really.”

You form fists around Somi’s ankles. In a single powerful motion, you fold her in half, feet hovering next to her head. Somi yelps when her sizable ass is presented to you and she yelps again when you pull the laughable piece of clothing over her head. Through the messy strands of her disheveled hair, she can muster up no bratty reaction, not until you penetrate her asshole.

“Oh, you thought!” you shout out the moment Somi’s wrong hole becomes the definition of tightness. “You thought I’d fuck your pussy, but your oh-so pristine cunt has literally been fucked by a thousand guys—it’s loose!”

Smack Somi’s buttocks faster than you plunge in and out of her, make her ass turn redder than Yena’s and Sua’s faces as they watch from their respective beds. When you don’t spank Somi, your hands are too occupied with keeping her thin legs folded to do anything enjoyable, like grabbing her small waist or those massagable jugs. At first glance these perky tits look fake to you; it might just be the blur of pleasure though.

“Bimbo slut! Nice fake tits!”

“Y-you’re, ah, so, fuck, mean! Th-they are real!”

You lean forward, as far down as your flexibility allows, and spit and nibble all over Somi’s apparently real melons. Stare up at her, but the blonde has her chin up high, head thrown back.

“Oh my God!” Somi grunts. “I’m so-so close, hng!”

“Is that so?” You completely stop every movement, balls deep inside. “Then admit it, say it out loud, ‘I’m a blonde bimbo slut’!”

“N-no—”

“Or you won’t cum.”

Somi twitches, the little fight left in her curvy frame gone like vapor in the wind in light of her approaching orgasm. She gleefully reaches for her own legs, holds them steady and gives you ample opportunity to finish the job. All you need is the code word.

“I’m a blonde bimbo slut, I’m a blonde bimbo slut, I’m a—oh shit, ah!”

Right on cue, you put some of your reserve energy into your lower body and do what you have done all day with insane power that makes your own mind spin aimlessly: fuck ass, rough and deep. Somi screams and squirts, both come out stupidly violent and then abate with time. She numbs your ears and drenches your crotch, the clear fluid shoots from her well-used cunt like a broken fountain and washes away the smells of all the other women.

Somi is gorgeous and filthy, mixing both parts of what sex can be in one person who happens to fully focus on delivering on her bimbo image. It’s too late for her to rebrand, sadly, you’d totally try to feel her tits in a loving way, but who are you to complain?

A better question is: Where are you?

Somi had you on the verge of cumming, which would go against your pride. To cum in a bimbo after only a few minutes is unacceptable. You had to edge yourself, take labored breaths, think of… unsexy things, otherwise the script writers would be disappointed. Ever since then, only flashes remain. Your co-host guiding you away, a familiar room, two, maybe three girls. One of them wears a cap—

You’re in her mouth. This is bad. She is already sucking, lazily, but it’s very good, holy fuck! Your efforts of holding back are ultimately too late. An earthquake hits your entire body, head to toes, to announce your eruption. Instead of rapid spurts it’s one uninterrupted beam of cum, vacuumed out of your balls.

The girl is overstrained with your orgasm. She gags up the baby batter and it tumbles down her chin right onto her exposed nipples. The rest either makes its way down her throat or all over your dick, where it creates a sticky situation, slowly cascading downward.

“Ha, f-f—” the victim of your unwanted, overwhelming attack tries to catch her breath. “Wh-at the hell? Are you fucking stupid? Do you always cum in other people's mouths the second they touch your useless snake?”

“S-sorry, Seungyeon!”

Seungyeon makes you shout your apology, because her ruthless hands get a hold of your dirty dick and jerk you off without thinking about the painful overstimulation they are causing. Okay, no, she is definitely thinking about that, just in a rather heartless manner. You have to grit your teeth to not wince as she grinds your blood-filled, hyper sensitive cockhead in between her dry fingers.

“Too late for any apologies, you can drop dead for all I care.”

“Please, Seungyeon-unnie, don’t kill him, I ne—I mean, that would be sad,” an angelic voice complains.

“Minjeong, you would understand if he did the same to you. Look at this fucking mess!”

Seungyeon points at the white globs trailing down her body. Some of it pools in the gap between her massive honkers, creating a lake of fertility or some other unholy creation. Minjeong kindly smiles at the sight.

“Isn’t it fun, Unnie? The feeling of all the warm cum, avalanches of tasty semen on your toned skin and milky boobs.”

Minjeong takes one of Seungyeon’s breasts into her mouth. In hunger she cleans them of any residue of your mishap, gleefully she swallows all of it, but only after showing it to you in her slutty mouth. The things you would do to her if you could.

“Fine, you can have his useless cock,” Seungyeon groans and hands Minjeong your semi-hard and burning manhood, like someone would pass their mic on stage. Instead of hitting fabulous high notes, the girl in her messy dark oak colored bun and fishnet stockings devours you like a treat. She nibbles off the remainders of white from you and in consequence forces you to loudly show your resignation.

"Stop, stop, please!" you wail. "I can't handle this, please, let me… let me rest."

To your surprise and delight, Minjeong not only has an angelic voice; her character at least somewhat mirrors the kind, heavenly being. She stops her movements completely, letting you rest inside her warm mouth. There is literally nothing you can do without the pain of overstimulation resurfacing again. Good thing that you don’t need to do anything to feel pleasure.

This kind of kink is probably frustrating to watch, but frankly, for these few minutes you don’t give a damn. Should these horny fucks edge themselves while Minjeong’s adorable yet cock-hungry face fills the screen. You won’t budge, except for a hand that caresses the girl's bangs.

“This hair looks great on you, Minjeong.”

If she could move her lips, they’d form a smile.

“You are quite the pretty girl.”

If she could talk, she’d say ‘thank you’.

“Also, thanks for cooperating. This was quite… unforeseen.”

“Keep your compliments to yourself,” Seungyeon snarks from the side and punches your hips with her balled fist. “You're such an idiot, you haven’t even greeted her yet.”

“Oh, no no!” another girl tenderly says, your eyes only now catching her. “It’s not my turn yet. I will wait.”

“What’s your name?” you ask, scanning her tiny frame. A denim two piece covers her private parts, her milky skin a perfect contrast, especially to her tight up black hair which seems to shimmer in blue. The most noticeable thing about her are her slender arms, tied up behind her back with the straps of handbags.

“Yeojin.”

“Why are you tied up, Yeojin?”

“Because I want you to use my mouth as the teeny-teen fleshlight it is meant to be.”

A sentence like an aphrodisiac. The desire to plunge into something with your slightly sore dick returns. It overrides even the concerns for your stamina. Give credit where it’s due, Minjeong has done a fantastic job in keeping you warm until now, but Yeojin is what sends you over the edge again.

“Okay, fuck. Thank you Minjeong, I will treat you to something nice later—”

“But now you want her?” Minjeong giggles. “Understandable. Make it a show. Test her fucking mouth.”

Yeojin might look small, in your large hands however she is even smaller. No reason for her to back off, she does not look like she regrets her words, in fact, the opposite seems to be true. With the look of a stupidly stupid sex doll, she slightly opens her full lips and you part them wide, their softness on you at all times. Grab the tied-up strands to handle her like a proper fleshlight. Mercilessly thrust her face onto your cock once, and gasp in surprise when all of you easily fits inside her—gagless.

“What the hell, are you a professional or something?”

Yeojin doesn’t respond, her face shows minimal reactions, eerily similar to a sex doll. Her posture remains unchanged, even when you go harder there is no strong reaction. Your mind can’t wrap around this yet, the script writers did a terrible job at explaining how insanely good yet awfully confusing she is. Yeojin, real-life sex doll with pouty mouth—this description does not do her justice.

“Seungyeon, Minjeong,” you call out to the girls behind you. “I need your help.”

“What for?” Seungyeon groans, while Minjeong already crawls to you.

“I want you, Minjeong, to undress this petite sex toy. Seungyeon, grab that ponytail and smash her face onto my crotch, I want to feel this nose on my abs.

“Help me destroy her.”

The two get to work immediately. Seungyeon swats your hands away before you have time to remove them and she starts slamming. Your cock disappears and reappears at an insane pace, the outline of Yeojin’s throat changing from thin to massively bulged. Minjeong kneels behind Yeojin, digs her fingers into the denim top and yanks it down to the rest. Leaving out unnecessary teasing, she removes all of it by finding the zippers. Hands rubbing over Yeojin’s exposed skin, Minjeong presents it to you.

“She has a petite body, small waist and shoulders, her hips are a bit bigger but look: her tits are even smaller than mine, basically nonexistent.”

Minjeong cups Yeojin’s chest playfully, and she is right there isn’t much to show. For those that love this type of body, Yeojin is the perfect sex doll. You step to the side for a moment to let the camera film the perfect view. Right on cue, Minjeong spreads Yeojin’s legs.

“Her pussy looks very tight~ I bet you don’t fit in there. Those thighs are the only thing with at least some meat. Round and firm!”

Minjeong smacks them. Watching them wiggle was a mistake, as Seungyeon angrily shoves Yeojin’s face back onto your cock. Fuck, if she continues at this pace, you might cum too early again. Maybe it’s time to abort this room and flee. You don’t gotta catch them all, there is still so much to do. Luckily, a familiar voice saves you from Yeojin’s wet throat, which might literally suck someone’s soul out.

“Magnificent, truly magnificent!” your co-host raves. “There is still so much to do, please follow me!”

JUST TESTING CONTINUES HERE

(A/N2: Sorry, Tumblr is a little bitch and I had to cut it here cuz the fic is too long. Seriously, I hate this site)

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hamlets-ak · 5 months

Text

back to you ༊*·˚

༘♡ amorous passion is a delirium

it’s been 3 months since timothée left to film DUNE 2 and you are rotting alone at your apartment. he was supposed to be gone for one more week but he decided to surprise you

*18+, minors DNI, sexual themes & references, romantic dynamic, established relationship, consent

« What are you doing now? », Tim’s voice echoed from the phone to the empty, cold walls of your apartment. You smiled sweetly watching his face light up the screen.

He was out, walking - the sky above his head and buildings circling him. Sunbathed curls entangled with the wind as his eyes scanned the road.

About three months had passed since Timothée left to film Dune 2 and you could feel the slow decay of flesh and bones. The colours of the walls were fading, turning dull without him around and the temperature had fallen so abruptly, no one had warned you about it.

You missed Timothée unfathomably - everything about him; his goofy laugh that always brought a smile to your face, his hair that glistered golden under the sun and the way he pulled the curls out of his face, his eyes changing colours with the weather and you pointing that out, his nose running aimlessly to your shoulder when you were laying on bed together or his fingers tracing softly your skin. You missed the conversations you had, your long walks around the city with his hand holding tightly your shoulder or wrapping around you, to have you close. Your late-night car rides when you’d blast your favourite songs on the radio or you’d go to a McDonald’s just because. You missed having him in your apartment, walking around as if it was his own, staying there for days and suddenly remembering that he had a home too. You missed watching TV with him, reading with him, sharing earphones with him, cooking with him, eating with him, waking up with him, sleeping with him... Everything.

« Nothing... », you mumbled, nuzzling better on the couch. Your face leaned on the pillow and you took a deep breath, inhaling Timothée's scent from that old t-shirt you wore and belonged to him. You weren't sure where or how you found it. It was old, so old, and it had a huge hole under one armpit that could easily be filled by another hand, but you didn't care because it smelt like him and it brought back memories from when you first met. « Watching trashy TV... and missing you. »

« You miss me? », he asked again, the grin on his face reaching his ears. You closed your eyes and nodded. Timothée looked at you before his stare moved back on the road. You breathed out again, more dramatically this time, trying to catch his attention.

« You have no idea how awful it is without you. Everything is too quiet. »

« Are you implying that I’m loud? », he frowned.

« Well, you are loud... It’s the American in you. » Tim laughed, lightly shaking his head not to smile any harder.

« One week... », his eyes fell on you noticing the way your cheeks perked up and leaned down to press a kiss on the screen. He missed you too, terribly - more than you could possibly imagine. His life was as dull as yours - maybe even more so because the only thing he had that reminded him of you was some pixels trapped on a phone screen and a necklace he took from you, ages ago, for good luck and ended up becoming more his than yours.

« One week, » you repeated his words with a hint of melancholy. It had been almost three months but time didn’t pass any less torturous, no matter if it was hours, days or weeks. You raised the phone high in the air so your neck wouldn’t hurt. « The bed misses you... And the couch... » He shut his lips, trying to hold onto his smirk. « The bathtub too. »

« Aw, tell them I miss them. The floor too. »

« You don’t miss anything else, you materialist? »

« Nah, » Tim gave you a look making your lips fall into a downwards curve. « Oh wait, you thought that I missed you? », he furrowed his brows playfully. You pouted and pulled your t-shirt up to cover your mouth.

« Definitely not hurt, Chalamet. Definitely not hurt, » you made him smile. Timothée shook his head before his eyes caught a glimpse of what you were wearing and suddenly frowned curiously and leaned closer to the screen. His forehead and eyes covered the screen for a moment, and you wanted nothing more than to pull away those few curls that concealed his eyes.

« Is that mine? », he asked amused and surprised all at once. « It's mine. » Your lips stretched into a big curve, letting the t-shirt hang back down. You shrugged in response before hugging yourself.

« Ours, » you mumbled.

« Ours... », he repeated your words. « For real though, that shirt is disgusting. I’ve had it since I was like twenty. »

« Don’t care. Where are you now? », you frowned bringing the phone impossibly close to your face to take a good look at his surroundings but all you could see was a sky and a mass of buildings that all looked the same.

« Em... on the road, going back to the hotel… I was out for coffee, » Timothée replied, eyes focused on the road waiting for the traffic light. When he noticed the screen getting brighter from your cheeks that were swelling with happiness, he had to glance back down at the phone. « What? »

« Oh nothing, » you smiled. « Are you at the hotel now? », you asked. He just grinned making the curve on your face grow bigger.

« No, not now. »

« What about now? »

« Not yet, » he chuckled.

« Now? »

« Nope, » he shook his head. You took a deep breath eyes still focused on him.

« Okay... », you mumbled. « What about now? »

« Not yet! », Tim raised his voice letting out a silly sound. You squinted your eyes watching the sky being replaced by a beige-colored ceiling.

« Now? »

« Okay, yes, I’m in now. You can stop being annoying, » he brought his face close to the screen so that he was the only thing visible to you. Your smile made him beam back at you. « Hey, baby, I’ll have to turn off the video for a minute. » You frowned in confusion.

« Okay... », you said reluctantly as you stared at the black screen. « Is there something you don’t want me to see, Timo? » All you heard was him panting and the echo of his shoes clapping against the stairs.

« Maybe, » he chuckled but you narrowed your eyes curiously.

« What are you hiding from me? », you murmured, hearing him laugh through heavy breaths.

« You’ll see... »

You just stared at the ceiling, waiting for him to turn the video back on, but the sound of the doorbell caused you to frown in confusion. Your eyes turned to the door questionably.

« Someone’s on the door, » you mumbled sceptically.

« Are you waiting for anyone? », Timothée asked.

« No... », you shook your head trying to think whether you had invited anyone just to trick your loneliness and ended up forgetting it. « Okay, wait, I’ll call you in a sec- or maybe call me when you get back to your room. »

« ‘Kay, love you! »

« Love you, » you left the phone on the kitchen counter and slowly moved to the door while fixing your hair to look somewhat presentable.

Curious, you quickly grabbed the handle and peeked your head, before letting the door swing open. Your eyes snapped wide in surprise and you could feel your heart skipping beats and your mind going blank.

« You should really check on the eyehole first. » You stayed on the door frozen, a frown of shock drawn on your lips until your mouth hung open. You raised your eyes only to meet Timothée’s silly grin that brought back the smile on your face. « Surprise? », he opened his arms.

Without a second thought, you threw yourself in his arms, hugging him so tightly that he almost lost his balance and took a few steps backwards. The coldness that had taken over your body was replaced by such a lovely warmth. Timothée kissed the side of your head and laughed at your reaction.

« What are you doing here? », you asked, loosening your hands and letting them rest on his neck.

« Thought I’d surprise you, » Tim smiled back. You ran a hand through his hair, noticing that it had been cut quite a bit since he left, and then pressed a kiss on his mouth. « Finished early, » he tilted to catch your lips. « Missed your face. » His fingers held your cheeks as he leaned down so that his forehead could touch yours. You beamed, still in utter disbelief, before you intertwined your lips together. « I missed you, » Timothée murmured with a small laugh as he took you into one last hug.

« I can’t believe you’re here... », you just held him, until he released his arms and you took a step back. He chuckled watching your surprised expression and motioned his head to the door.

« Let’s get inside, » he beamed and you nodded, a huge grin forming on your face.

« Let me help you with that, » you bent down to catch his bag but he pulled it off your arms.

« No, no, it’s okay, baby. »

The apartment suddenly changed temperature and colours the moment he stepped inside. Everything missed him and everything was happy he was back.

You leaned on the door just watching him put his bags aside and take off his coat. His eyes wandered around to see if you had made any changes but you hadn’t. Timothée gave you a sneaky glance as he took off his shoes which only made you beam brighter.

You loved him and you missed him and you didn’t want him to leave you ever again. But you were still too shocked to react. Your brain was stuck still, couldn’t think of anything. It was like waking up from a dream, too stunned, too confused, too out of place and time.

He stood up to come over to you. You smiled warmly as he held your face and you rubbed your cheek on his palm to make sure this wasn’t just a fragment of your imagination. And when you did ensure yourself, you pressed a kiss on his skin.

« I was thinking about you every second of every day, » you murmured softly and then looked into his eyes as an afterthought, watching memories sneak out.

A sudden silence broke between you - not an uncomfortable one. It was just that silence spoke better words than you did.

His free hand brushed against yours and his fingers slyly tried to sneak into your palm, until the inside of your hands hugged one another and fingers tangled together. You hadn’t held hands in such a long time.

His smile slowly faded as his stare stayed on your lovesick honey look, hand tracing back the skin of your face. You raised your head until your noses brushed, his hot breath fanning over you, and you felt so soft, so calm and safe that you sank into happiness.

Timothée pressed his mouth to yours, closing the void that existed between and inside you. His tongue gently traced over your lips, awakening a sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.

Your arms looped around his neck and tugged him closer, his mouth moulding against yours. He felt your lips softer than he could remember and kissed you deeper, hungrier, nipping at your bottom lip and making your mouth part with a breathy sigh.

And as his scent travelled into your head, you started to lose control of yourself and you gave up truly and completely.

Timothée let his tongue slide inside your mouth, desperate to taste you, to feel your skin. His hands slithered down the curves of your body and held your hips so firmly that you could feel his thumbs clawing you.

A strained moan faded in the air. Your fingers fidgeted with the end of his hair, soft and silky, as your lips clashed, and grabbed a handful of those curls you had missed so much. And when he groaned and whined against your mouth, you found yourself losing control over your body, falling completely under his spell.

« Timmy, » you whispered as his head buried into your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against the skin. « Are you tired? » Timothée chuckled and shook his head.

« No... », his voice came out breathlessly.

« No? Are you sure? »

« Fuck yeah, I’m sure. »

Cool fingers that were dug under your shared t-shirt moved to the curves of your bottom and held your hips, pulling them up until your legs clawed around him and you gasped before letting out a small laugh that made him smile.

He couldn’t part his mouth from yours as if you were magnets that were impossible to separate - not until your back touched the mattress of your bed, your hair tangled in a terrible disarray, with chest heaving.

Tim panted heavily as he hovered above you, completely covering your shrill form. You leaned back on your elbows watching him with a glint in your eyes, taking off his t-shirt eagerly, before his mouth fell on your neck. His fingers searched for the hem of your t-shirt and tried to pull it up.

« Off, » he breathed out against your mouth, causing a wide grin to stretch on your face.

You brushed a hand through his hair and pulled the curls out of his face as he crawled in between your legs and pressed greedy kisses on your collarbones. His fingers moved up to cup your bare breasts making you gasp when he looked up at you with a sneaky smile and his kisses slowed in the line of your chest.

« Did I surprise you? », he mumbled, tongue touching your skin, making you gasp for air. His hands lined the curve of your waist as wet lips fell on your soft spots. Timothée pressed his lips lower and lower till they reached your belly before raising his gaze at you again. You closed your eyes and nodded. « Yeah? », he smiled sheepishly.

« Yeah, » you murmured.

You fiddled with his curls as he crawled lower, sliding down your pyjama shorts and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

« Off, » Timothée murmured, biting his lips impatiently. Your eyes stayed on him until they fell on the silver necklace that was hanging around his neck and it used to belong to you. You just touched it.

Tim breathed a satisfied laugh as he let his mouth touch your skin, lips gradually falling down until his fingers traced your underwear and he chuckled against you.

« Shit, » he mumbled glancing at you with a smile that made you grin through shaky breaths. « I missed you, » Timothée said. « I couldn’t wait to get back home to you. » Your heart nearly skipped a beat when he called your place his home too. He looked up at you. « Yeah, I mean it. » Your stare glued on him, unable to move away, watched the way he slid your panties down, off your legs and spoke soft words to you. « It had never been this long, » he parted your legs and kissed the inside of your thigh.

His mouth travelled to the apex of your thighs and you tried to hold onto your moans, reaching for his hair and tugging him closer. Tim grinned again, fingers hugging your waist and then your bottom. His lips wrapped around you, setting your body on fire and cutting your breath, while sucking and rolling his tongue inside you before one hand trailed down your skin and slowly replaced his lips. Fingers sunk deep into you, pushing past your folds, brushing and curling, making your mouth part open and your head fall back.

When he thrusted his fingers back in, your mouth fell agape in a silent scream, head light and nerves ablaze. Your body tensed as you jumped up in his hold and then fell, completely slack onto the bed.

Timothée pulled his fingers out and leaned down until his tongue touched your folds; licked you, tasting you with a sharp inhale. He moaned against you at the sound of you breathlessly calling his name and he gripped your thigh sinking his fingertips into your skin.

If it wasn’t for his own ache that had almost brought tears to his eyes, he could’ve stayed between you for as long as you let him. But not being able to hold any longer, he pulled back to catch his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, and took off sweatpants and trunks altogether.

You watched him full of longing and pleading, with mouth gasping for air, before reaching over to replace his hand with yours around his throbbing erection that was already smeared with silver liquids.

A blissed out expression was drawn on his face as his head tilted and his Adam's apple moved, struggling immensely to swallow the overflow saliva.

Timothée’s arms shook as he hovered above you, burying his head into your neck, and groaned as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

« Fuck, » he panted. His eyes fell on your face, mind fogged with pleasure, as strangled moans and hushed gasps left his mouth agape. Your lips trembled watching him like this. You pressed your mouth on his, guiding him inside until he buried himself in you.

His jaw clenched, breath heavy, waiting for you with eyes closed. You kissed his jaw and his neck before cupping his face. That’s when his gaze fell on yours.

Your lips almost touched as he hovered over you, inches away, brushing the tender skin against each other, agape and wet. You breathed each other in, let the other inhale the air, the strained moans the one was eliciting from the other.

« My sweet boy, » you said with a smile and pulled back his dripping hair. « He’s back. » His lips twitched a curve upwards and eyes glanced away from you. Your thumbs tried to weep the drops of sweat off his chin and his nose, and you pulled his curls behind his ears to take a better look at him. Tim looked at you strained with a smile of effort and feverish red cheeks. « I missed those eyes, » you tented your head and pressed a kiss under his eye. « And that nose, » your mouth followed the curve, before your thumb brushed his lips. « And those lips… You’re so cute when you look away, » your hands caressed the skin behind his ears and then fell down on the nape of his neck.

« I missed being so close to you, » his eyes skimmed down your bodies. « You don’t know how much I wanted to be here. »

« You’re here now, » you kissed him and pulled him closer until your chests brushed against each other.

Timothée groaned in your ear as you glided your hands over his back caressing him slowly. You could feel his muscles pulling and flexing with every thrust, his body panting and his breath hot in you.

Your lips seared into every part of him they could find; lips, forehead, nose, hair, as his face dug into your neck, while whispering his name again and again like a prayer, like something holy.

He panted harder once you found rhythm and he slammed deeper into you, skin slapping against skin, harsher, and his hands tried to hold your face tenderly as he breathed against your cheeks and heard you moan the most soul capturing sound he’d ever heard when he hit that spot again and again.

« Fuck, Y/N, » you heard him rasp as the kisses became longer, lingering lower on your face till they reached your red-hot ear and you could hear him curse all sort of things.

Your shadows casted by the blinding lights of the sun loomed over you on the walls. The shadows danced, three times bigger, mirrored your every move forming a dark-figure painting over the walls of the apartment.

Moves that were full of reverence and strange carefulness turned sloppier and faster, until tremors shook your body, until you whined and pulled him impossibly close, until he as well reached the crest of his pleasure and in unison you climbed and lunged into the climax.

And you could feel yourself spasming around him as the desperately jolting of his hips gradually stopped. Eyes half-lidded, too heavy to lift them, too blissed out to control. Faces disfigured by throws of passion, contorted in an utterly beautiful, bordering on painful, grimace.

Timothée gulped and breathed heavily against your neck. His chest panting against yours as hot liquids ran between you.

« Fuck, » he gasped and you smiled while pulling his hair back.

Sweaty and a mess, you finally separated. He rolled off your chest, onto the bed, onto his back. Your stare seemed to be searching the ceiling, watching the sun breaking through the curtains. And he looked at you, twisted his soar neck and measured your naked form with utter acclaim and pride. Slowly, your breaths evened.

« Fuck that was good, » he pressed a sweet kiss on your neck.

« Welcome home. »

#hamlets-ak #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet smut #smut

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rboooks · 11 months

Note

Can you write a dead on main? Something with a bookstore au please!

Now that I know the ship names, you bet I can! I'll try my best to get through the ones I got requested in the past few days.

Jason liked bookstores.

They were a safe haven for him as a child, even when the fancier ones chased him off when he became a street kid. He adores the various series, the smell of books, and the quiet of stores. Often he thought that they were a small pocket to escape reality.

He had always known he could escape between the pages when everything had been terrible.

Maybe that's what lead him to this store even if it was a bit odd.

It was out of the way by the old docks that Joker used to run, thus making it condemned to the rest of the populace.

An old warehouse turned into a three-story bookstore. The entire first floor was aisles placed in side-way lines with the main counter as its center. The second floor had cozy reading nocks, plush futon couches, pillows, and blankets, complete with a small cafe. The rule was that anyone could take a book off the second-floor walls to read for free.

Employees asked to be informed if any food or damage was done to the second floor since the second book only had one copy of each. The owner would pull one off the bottom floor shelves to replace it.

The final floor had various reading rooms, but Jason loved that each room was based on a book. The room was professionally decorated to the point it left visitors feeling like they actually stepped into the world of the book.

Sculptures, playable settings, phenomenal little details the hard die fans could spot, and even sound systems playing sounds that sounded like the world. Jason could only compare it to Disney World or universal studios. The fact that people could rent the rooms for an hour for only fifteen dollars made them much more popular.

The third-floor rooms- ten in total- would rotate between series after a few months. Hence, the rooms were always different, but inside them were recommended books with the same kind of theme that was always the perfect recommendation, or maybe people just wanted to explore a room of their favorites.

Jason had visited the strange little bookstore with Tim after his brother had gone on a date with Bernard there.

Tim and Barnard had rented the "Hogwarts common rooms" room for three hours. Jason had been amazed by how real the four standard rooms looked, how there were even dragons spitting fire in one corner, moving portraits, a sorting hat ceremony, a small teddy bear decorating corner, and even a wand building second. All for only fifteen dollars. Tim had practically been glowing when he came home with his Ravenclaw bear and his own wand.

And maybe Jason is a huge Harry Potter fan; perhaps it was one of the first things he boned with Tim over, so maybe his brother had taken him to have an experience that he compared to the first time Bruce took him to Universal Studios.

Then he ran into the owner while one of the employees had been helping him pick runes to have burned into his wand.

Jason started to come back for an entirely different reason.

"Hi, Jason!" Elle says when she sees him climbing the stairs toward the third floor. She's the store's co-owner and has gotten to know him on a first-name basis due to how often Jason has visited the store in the past year. If they made a reward points system, Jason knows he be the highest one on the chart.

She's sitting at a table that is decorated like a galaxy. The books for these quarters' room themes are on the table's surface, all with a door key under them and a clipboard for the various hours.

Jason's eyes land on Pride and Prejudice, and his heart leaps.

"Hi, Elle. What's the wait time for door seven?"

She smiles, flipping the clipboard to the time slots. "The Ball at Netherfield Park has a lot of openings today. I got a three, four, six, or seven. When shall I fit thee dance card in milord?"

Jason laughs and checks his phone, ensuring he doesn't need to do anything for a while before saying. "Three will be fine. It's only thirty minutes. I'll go get a coffee while I wait."

She nods, writing his name down for three. She then passes him some disclosure forms he has to sign, forgoes the long-winded explanation of the rules, and sends him on his way, promising to send him a reminder text.

"Just so you know, Ball at Netherfield Park comes with a unique costume option. Five extra dollars to go through our costume section, and you can dress up like Mr. Darcy for a full hour."

Jason shakes his head though it's a very tempting offer. "Thanks, Elle but I'm okay with my street clothes today."

The other shrugs and checks her nails- their asexual theme today, he notes- before nonchalantly commenting. "Too bad. Danny really wanted someone to cosplay with him. Jane Austin's books are less prevalent in Gotham than we thought, and he's been dying to wear his Mr. Bingley outfit. I thought you like to, so I told him to come over when you arrive, but I can text him to cancel-"

"Five dollars, you said? For the full outfit or just like a coat?" Jason ignores her smug expression and quickly places a twenty on the table.

"Full outfit. What do you take us for?"

He glares at her just as the man of the hour himself runs up the stairs. Danny Fenton, founder, and co-owner of Ghost Zone Reads. He's in a light blue Regency period man coat that makes his eyes pop. A pair of white pants that hug his hips and thighs in all the right places, black knee boots, and a black gentle top hat.

Jason's knees go weak at the sight of him.

Danny's face is flush from the run, but his whole face lights up when he sees his sister and her guest. "Jason! I'm so glad you choose the Ball at Netherfield Park experience. I can't wait for our dance."

"Dance?" Jason chocks. Elle chuckles.

"You can't experience a Ball at Netherfield without the ball part dingus." She waves a hand at her brother. "Told him Dick canceled on you, so he offered to step in."

Jason never even mentions Dick to her but he's not about to call her out on her lie. She's doing him such a big favor.

"I always wanted to go to a Jane Austin ball!" He says instead, mentally wincing at how lame he sounds. Thankfully Danny's eyes only light up even more as the other man starts explaining the instructional videos installed in the ballroom mirrors so they can learn the real moves of Contra Dancing.

Jason falls just a tad bit more.

(Elle watches with a fond smile as Jason and Danny get lost in Austin's most significant works. She quickly texts her allies in Wayne Manor under the table. This is a big step in the "Make us in-laws" operation; the Fenton and Wayne children started a few months back. They were all tired of watching Danny and Jason dance around each other. Damian's idea to use Jason's favorite author was working fabulously.)

#dc x dp crossover #Ghost Zone Reads #Dead on main #request #jane austin the way to Jason's heart #Danny and Dani run a bookstore based off the idea of Ghost Zone's magic doors #It's a huge success #(Yes Danny kills the joker off screen when the man tries to take his store)

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mint-yooxgi · 5 months

Text

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?”

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top.

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness.

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint.

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company.

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble.

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men.

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg.

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.”

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you.

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow.

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

#thrill of the hunt #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #yandere mingi #yandere ateez #mingi scenario #mingi imagine #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yandere kpop #kpop au #fantasy au #chubby reader #tall reader #fae au

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henrioo · 2 months

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°•*⁀➷ BEACH DAY: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Crocodile is a king, and kings don't fulfill anyone's wishes, unless that someone is you. The small, young and only son of one of the most feared pirates, a child who would never have his desires denied by his father.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Platonic! Crocodile, IT'S NOT A ROMANTIC STORY, Dad! Crocodile, Child! Reader, Male! Child! Reader, difficult childhood due your Dad's business, mentions a lonely childhood, mean children

꒰ WC ꒱ : 995

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Trying to back in my schedule of posting and writing, I'm passing through some bad time with a lot of personal problems so my mind is kinda off for everything, but at least I gonna try to post what I already had (I always say that and never do) anyway enjoy :p

Firstly, your father would be extremely offended if his precious son asked to go to the beach. Dear, your father is the king of the desert and is literally made of sand, why on earth would you want to go to a beach full of stupid people with dirty sand?

Of course, just as Crocodile is unable to refuse your requests every time, what can he do? He spoiled his little boy a little… so soon he's planning a trip to the beach while putting up with you talking about it every day since you as a little child couldn't contain your excitement.

Initially he thought about going to a private beach, he could rent an entire island just to avoid other people, but when you looked at him with those huge puppy eyes saying “but then there won't be other children for me to play with?” He gave up and was at your feet again, bless you, your perfect son who had him wrapped around your finger.

He agreed to go to a public beach, but that doesn't change that he didn't want many people, so he planned to go to a less inhabited island and during a period when there would be fewer people, of course, he made sure the beach was very beautiful and big enough so you can have the most fun. He wasn't ruining her experience for his own selfish limits.

Father of sunscreen, Crocodile doesn't want to see you turning into a pepper, so he makes sure you're completely white from all the sunscreen. It's a little difficult to do this with just one hand, but you were always a patient child and helped your father without any problems, soon you were ready, with your crocodile themed children's swimwear, your colorful floaties and animation for a lifetime.

Crocodile wasn't very excited about swimwear either, so he just wore an open shirt and longer shorts. The problem was that everyone on the beach was staring at the seductive man, was it his fault for being so handsome? Of course, having Daz Bones next to him staring deathly at everyone ensured that no one bothered him, which was perfect for the pirate.

Swimming too deep is a big no, Crocodile can't swim and that means he can't rescue you if you start to sink, not only that, but most of his employees are also Devil Fruit users, which just makes it difficult for him to be sure you will be fine in the water. Now if he goes with you to the beach with a non-user, like Mihawk for example, he may be more comfortable with you going to the deeper parts, accompanied of course.

Crocodile is also very careful about keeping you well hydrated. He knows that children are more sensitive, so he is constantly calling you to drink water, juices or any other liquid. Luckily, you are very obedient and don't waste the chance to drink something delicious, so it was easy to keep it under control. Crocodile also didn't trust just any restaurant or food vendor, so he hired a chef to prepare everything you could want to eat on the beach, whether it was fried fish or ice cream, you had everything at your disposal, prepared by someone you trusted, so Crocodile knew you I wasn't taking any risks.

He gets a little apprehensive when you get close to other children, Crocodile is extremely protective of you. After all, you are his greatest treasure, he would kill and die to prevent you from getting hurt in any way, but when he sees you smiling while playing with the children, he feels his heart relax, in the end, you are still a child, and he doesn't want to in no way to deprive you of having a normal childhood. He already knows how terrible it must be for you to be the son of a pirate, to live on a ship without ever settling on an island for long, the lack of children for you to live with, you can't even go to school, and instead you study with him, his life is not normal like most children and any opportunity he has to give you some moments of a normal childhood he is definitely doing it. He just wants you to grow up happy, regardless of everything.

Now, that doesn't mean he won't be a protective father. All he has to do is see you building your beautiful sandcastle, which he may have helped to stand with his powers without you realizing, when another older child approaches. He is reluctant but doesn't want to act immediately, it's only when the child kicks his castle that he gets angry, then a wave of sand covers the child, knocking him to the ground, the boy has probably swallowed enough sand to never but forget the taste. As soon as the boy runs away crying to his parents, Crocodile rebuilds his entire sandcastle before you can even miss him or cry about it. Your bright smile along with a “thank you daddy” makes it all worth it.

Although he enjoyed the beach day, which basically consisted of him sitting around watching you being a normal kid and having fun and the occasional discussion about business with Daz, the best part for Crocodile is when it starts to get dark, and you're already too tired. He carries you in his arms, using his powers to clean all the sand from your body, you are completely exhausted and sleep like a rock, with the only detail of holding your father's shirt with your small hand.

Crocodile just puts pajamas on you, preferring that you take a shower when you're awake, then he puts you in his bed and covers you. You have a huge smile on your face and are probably having sweet dreams, he watches you for a few moments before leaving to finish some things and then going to sleep.

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #anime imagines #one piece x male reader #one piece x masc reader #one piece x trans male reader #one piece x transmasc reader #one piece x child reader #crocodile x reader #Crocodile x child reader #crocodile x son reader #x child reader #x male child reader #x male reader #x masc reader #male imagines #platonic imagine #x

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darlingdarkly · 3 months

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New Year, New You Part 8

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

9k words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, gaslighting

Part 1, 7, 9

You grill him with questions, demanding him to explain to you what he’s talking about. It seems obvious to you that he knows something he’s not letting on. The words fly from your mouth in a panic. “What do you mean it’s not safe? What are you talking about, Johnny? Explain!”

You see him get a little heated, a reaction you hadn’t expected, in fact the whole exchange following your inquisitions is so out of left field that it renders you speechless.

“Obviously hen, ye were a victim of a crime last night. Do ye nae see that?” You hadn’t seen that, it was so hard to remember anything about last night that drawing any kind of conclusion had so far been beyond you.

He sees it starting to click and continues, striking while the irons hot. “How many times in the past have ye gotten black out drunk, bonnie?” You have certainly had your fair share of ragers but black out drunk? To the point of almost total memory loss? Never.

“Did ye really think wakin’ up an’ nae bein’ able tae remember a damn thing was normal? Open yer eyes, lass.” He did this so well it seemed, had a way of breaking you down and making you feel small just to build you back up how he saw fit, cutting through the walls and all the bullshit to speak directly to you in a way no one before him had. It was humiliating and liberating all at once.

He sees he’s made his point. “Ah’m nae kiddin’, lass. I think ye were drugged las’ night an’ ah’d say yer awful lucky ah showed up when ah did.” His voice had taken on a kind of verbal growl, Scottish accent deepening so that it was almost hard to understand. He seemed genuinely upset, more than you could seem to get even though you were the victim, but you could feel it settling into your bones now, the unease.

Your face must be a mask of your emotions because he starts to calm now that he feels he's gotten through to you and he takes your hand into both of his. “Ye need tae understand somethin’, hen.” He seems to be mulling over the words in his head, unsure of the next thing to say. “I care about ye, I want ye tae be safe an’ happy an’ I think ye should stay with me. It’s nae safe fer ye tae be livin’ on yer own.”

You feel a bit surprised at his candidness, a show of emotions you hadn’t expected and it sends a hot flare up from your stomach and heats your cheeks. “Johnny I can’t stay.” He forces his gaze to yours, holds you hostage with it. “Why nae?”

That’s a good question, one you didn’t have an answer for. Why couldn’t you stay with him? Would it really be so bad? You’d been living on your own for so long maybe you were afraid of that change.

You opened your mouth to answer but he stopped you before you could. “Jus’ think about it. I’ll ask ye again tonight an’ if ye dinnae want tae, ah willnae make ye.” He closed it with that, getting up off the bed to signal the talk was over. “Come on, time fer yer warm up.”

After changing, you followed him out the door and into unfamiliar territory, the rest of the house you’ve yet to see. He leads you into an open living area that blended into a nice big kitchen. The house looked like it could house a whole family let alone just the two of you. You followed as your head craned and took it all in. The rent must have been astronomical but it was still Johnny’s house and he didn’t bother with extravagancies. It was spacious but also sparsely decorated making it look huge in perspective.

You cut through the space and into another room. You hadn’t really expected him to have a personal home gym, since he worked at one you naturally assumed he’d just go to work to exercise. The middle of the room was empty and matted, heavy duty, black pads interlocked like puzzle pieces made a twelve by twelve square in the center. The walls of the room were lined with full weight racks, adjustable benches, a treadmill and a power tower.

He stops in the middle of the black square and motions for you to sit. You sit, criss cross applesauce, across from him and he motions for you to begin. You start to go through your warm ups, starting with your sit-ups. He holds your feet and keeps count for you, his grin widening as you progressed.

Today was different and in more ways than one, when you’d finished he had you sit up and hold his feet, meaning for this to be a joint session for the both of you instead of just one sided as it normally was. You had to sit with your knees on the toes of his feet to keep him weighted down and he went for three reps of twenty instead of ten. You could feel the strength he possessed, the power held in the corded muscles of his thighs and calves by just holding him down.

You moved through the first set and into the next, keeping count of his push ups and even clumsily crawling up on his back when he insisted on needing your added weight. While it’d only really been a week since you’d stopped, you found that you’d come to miss this. Partly the healthy routine you’d built with him and partly his presence itself. Slipping back into it was not only easy but welcoming and this new way of having him doing it right along with you was something you secretly found yourself falling in love with.

You practically floated through your warm ups, hardly feeling the burn of them. You sat on the mat with your legs stretched out in front of you in a V. Without any assistance from him you managed a full, complete split and you couldn’t quite hide the elation you felt when his eyes lit up and praise poured from his lips.

Limber and pliant you both rose up from the mat and he walked you over to the power tower, standing out from you as you positioned yourself underneath the pull up bar. You jumped and grabbed ahold of the cool metal. You began, pulling yourself up until your chin passed the bar and then dropping down again.

It was hard but you were determined to finish, huffing and puffing by the last rep but still able to pull yourself past the point without stopping. You caught your breath as he muscled through his. You had long recovered when he finally jumped down, making your measly three look like light work as he managed a solid fifteen before finally coming to a halt.

You knew the next portion was the treadmill but as you made to mount it he stopped you. “Let’s go fer a real run, what dae ye think?” You stopped to consider it. You’d always wanted to go for a real jog, much preferring the open air of outside to the confines of an automated conveyor belt but had been much too scared to attempt such a thing on your own.

You’d always heard stories of women going out on jogs and simply never returning, their bodies found weeks later floating in rivers or lying in ditches. As alluring as the idea was your fears had always kept you inside but with a man like Johnny by your side you could pretty much garuntee total safety.

The prospect of finally getting to do as you pleased excited you and you found yourself chomping at the bit to go. He grabbed his house keys and escorted you to the door, locking it tight behind him and stepping up beside you on the sidewalk. “Are ye ready?”

You smiled at him and nodded, it must have been contagious because one of his own sprung up on his face, lighting it up and making his blue eyes sparkle in the sun.

“There’s a park just doon the way. We’ll head there, do a lap an’ loop back.” You started at a light jog and was pleasantly surprised to see him keep the pace you’d set. You were a bit worried you’d be struggling to match him the whole way, although he did talk most of the way while you struggled to manage anything more than one word replies.

It was a beautiful day, the weather was mild and there was a cool breeze at your back like gentle fingers prodding you encouragingly along. You were suddenly glad for this strange turn of events, as troubling as it seemed at first. Feeling down all last week and then reluctant to go out with Nancy, the anxiety you’d felt in the drive to the club and then somehow ending up in Johnny’s bed the next morning.

Somehow even unable to remember any of the events from the night before, something that, in all reality should leave you mortified and sick left you only feeling a strange sense of calm, like in the end it had all worked out how it was meant to be. You found yourself thinking about this morning and how he’d been almost mad at you for not being more concerned about last night, but you just couldn’t feel it.

There was eventually an underlying sense of unease that he’d practically forced onto you but it was only fleeting, like someone who’s fallen asleep at the wheel only to wake up in the hospital and be informed that you were lucky to be alive. It was hard to understand the reality of your danger when you’d walked away unscathed and without really having experienced it.

Maybe it was shell shock and you just weren’t completely grasping the reality of the situation but you weren’t holding your breath, and as far as taking him up on his offer you just weren’t all that convinced. While it was, admittedly, a problem that you’d drank too much and been unable to make it home last night, you failed to see any real danger in living by yourself.

You’d been doing fine thus far and didn’t see why that should have reason to change. You decided then that you’d made up your mind, you’d spend the day with Johnny, as gratitude for taking such good care of you in a time of need and just to enjoy it as well, it was only early in the afternoon but it was turning out to be a pretty good day in your book. You’d tell him later on when he asked that there really was no reason for you to stay with him. He’d understand, you were sure.

“Lass?” You were pulled away from your thoughts and back to the present. “Hmm?”

“I said what do ye think about havin’ fer dinner. I make an ossobuco that’ll bring ye tae tears.” You had no idea what that was but just expressed your interest anyway as you turned off of the sidewalk and into the entrance to the park.

It was one you recognized, beautfiully landscaped and as old as the hills, this park had been around for as long as you could remember, although it’d been ages since you’d been. They’d updated the playground and had redone the bridge over the pond, there was a flock of geese preening themselves on the surface of the dark, calm water.

You came to a stop at the peak of the bridge, glancing down at your Fitbit and checking your pulse. Johnny leaned his forearms onto the railing and leaned down for a look into the pond as you both caught your breath. He broke the peaceful silence that had settled between the two of you.

“I brought me mum here once. She used tae love feedin’ the swans at the pond near our house when I was wee. Used tae take me over there on our morning walks and I used tae make her laugh tryin’ tae catch one. Ah’ve taken more than one swan nip tae the arse as a lad.” You couldn’t help but laugh imagining him chasing the birds that probably matched him in size as a kid and then laughed some more as you imagined them chasing him, angry and nipping at his heels.

He laughed with you and as you nestled in next to him to stare out on the pond, just as the fit settled he leaned in close, nudged up against your side. “Ye’ll meet her if ye stay long enough ye know. She’d love ye.”

You felt a pang of uncomfortable awkwardness as he brought up the idea of you staying again. You didn’t want to dissapoint him by ruining the moment but you didn’t want to lead him on either. “Johnny…”

He stopped you. “Nae. Dinnae say anything yet. Ah was jus’ sayin’.”

You fell back into silence, a much more uncomfortable one this time but he wouldn’t let it set in as he pushed you back into a jog and lead you over the end of the bridge. It looped back around to where you’d started and it was only a quick jog back to his place where you ended your session for the day.

You both go inside and head for the kitchen, he pulls a blender hidden in a cabinet and sets it up on the counter before pulling out a litany of fruits along with a knife and small cutting board. He chops as he talks, going over your progress and performance, comparing it to your starting time and pace and mooning over the results.

He stops talking as he dumps the fruit into the blender and turns it on, the concoction inside swirling into a deep green slurry. When it’s homogenous he stops and pulls two glasses from a different cupboard. The juice makes a wet plop as it fills the glass and he slides one your way after sticking a bright orange straw down into its depths.

You pull it in front of you and take a long sip, confident in his smoothie skills at this point and relish in the way the sweet cool drink slides over your tongue and down your throat, already working to rejuvenate you.

He downs his quickly, an amazing feat that would surely leave you numb with brain freeze. Setting the glass down in the sink he rounds the counter to you. “I’m goin’ tae take a quick shower and then it’s yer turn.” He slides up close, lean chest pressing into your back and placing a kiss on the back of your neck that sent chills down your spine. “Unless ye want tae join me, that is.”

You do want to, nothing sounds better but you’re still tired from your session and you’ve experienced Johnny in his fulty, intense and unrelenting. If you went at it now you may never recover so you decline, opting to finish your drink and wait your turn. He leaves you and you turn on the stool to take in the decor. The little there is of it seems to be concentrated on a shelf in the corner.

You hop off the stool and walk tentatively over to it, surveying the shelves. There’s a few trophies, the plaques on each read that they’re awarded from some gym for a weightlifting competition. His name and the years were engraved in the middle of the plaque, he’d won them three years consecutively.

The other shelves were adorned with photographs. You glanced at them one by one, picking out Johnny’s radiant smile in each. Here’s one with him on the bank of a river, huddled together with a bunch of people all wearing the same bright orange helmets and yellow vests in varying states of soaked, they’re all holding short stubby oars and smiling.

The next one is a much larger group of people, they’re all different ages but share similar qualities, their eyes and noses on different faces but seem to be shaped from the same clay by the same hands. They’re assembled in front of a sign that reads “MacTavish Family Reunion” and it takes you a moment to pick out Johnny from the crowd of baby blues and deep rich browns. You finally spot him clustered in the back with two other young men hanging off of his shoulders. They look like three of a rambunctious kind.

Beside that is Johnny in a long black robe and mortarboard, from the cap dangles a dark green tassel that hangs in the poofy frizz of long dark brown curls belonging to a shorter stout woman. Her eyes are so bright and shockingly blue they couldn’t belong to anyone other than Johnny’s mother. She looks soft and sweet but strong as she beams at the camera. Her face exudes nothing but pride and adoration for her son. Johnny looks young and happy, his eyes reflect the yet untapped potential of the start of his adult life.

“That’s mah mum an’ I at mah graduation.” His sudden presence startles you and you’re glad to have only been leaning in to observe the photographs instead of holding them, you’re certain you would have dropped them had it been the case.

“Jesus, Johnny. You scared me.” He smiles, a deep grin that you can tell he’s a bit satisfied to have been able to give you a start, despite his following apology. “Sorry lass, Dinnae mean tae make ye jump.”

There’s a small span of awkward silence and to cease it you ask him about the first picture, the one by the river.

He lets out a small hearty laugh and reaches past you to lift the frame off the shelf, bringing it closer like having it here in his hands will give him a better feel for the memories they contain.

“Ah used tae go white water raftin’ all the time. This was a group I joined when ah started. We had just cleared a class four river fer tha first time.” You smile as he reminisces, telling just by his eyes that he’s reliving it a little as he talks.

“Do you still do it? River raft?” He shakes his head and places the picture back on the shelf where it had been. “Nae anymore. Too dangerous.”

He sighs a little, the golden memory disappearing and perhaps leaving a plume of mild gloom in its place but if it had affected him too badly it didn’t show, as his ever radiant smile resurfaced like it’d never retreated.

“Yer turn, hen. The bathrooms in mah room it’s the far door on the left.” You make your way back towards his bedroom as he stations himself behind the sink and busies himself with the dishes.

You pick through the bag on the bed, hem hawing over what to wear when you just decide to bring the whole bag with you into the bathroom. You turn on the shower and let it warm as you retrieve your soap, shampoo and conditioner.

After quickly undressing you step into the warm jet and let it soak into your skin. There was a lot to think about and showers had always seemed like the best time to ponder things. You’re still, even now, in awe at just how things had turned in the past day. You certainly didn’t believe you’d be showering at his place at this time the day before. You poured some body wash into your palm, lathering it as you ruminated.

And then there was his offer, so out of the blue and generous of him. To stay at his place with him and for what? Why? Because you’d drank a little too much the night before and just couldn’t recall any of it? While it’d never been the case for you before now didn’t mean it was impossible for you to become black out drunk. It wasn’t an impossibility, you’d read somewhere that the body's chemical makeup changes roughly every seven years. People all the time grow out of and even develop new allergies as their life progressed. Meaning it was completely possible for your reactions to an influx of alcohol to change over time.

At least, that’s how you justified it to yourself as you rinsed the suds from your skin and began to wash your hair. It just didn’t make sense to jump to conclusions so hastily. And stay for how long? Certainly he didn’t mean to tell you that you were welcome to move in indefinitely. You don’t just extend that kind of an offer to someone like that, he barely knew you. Or did he?

It didn’t matter. For now you just couldn’t bring yourself to impose upon him like that, even if he did offer it up so willingly and insistent. After dinner, you’d gently and politely refuse. He did after all say he wouldn’t make you if you didn’t want to.

You rinse off and turn off the stream, letting most of the water drip off you before stepping out and wrapping yourself in a warm, fluffy towel from the rack. You finally pick out an outfit and stick with it, pulling it on and cleaning up after yourself as you finished, you’d rather not leave a mess for him to contend with later on top of everything he’d already done for you.

You close the door to his bedroom behind you as you step out into the open living room. You had expected him to be unwinding on the couch but instead he was up and pulling on jacket, he had his shoes on and keys in hand. As he spotted you he smiled and stepped towards you.

“Ah need a few things from the store fer dinner. Will ye join me fer a ride?” You smile and nod, turning back towards the room to put on some shoes and retrieve your phone and wallet before joining him to leave. It’s a short walk through the front entrance of his home to the garage. It’s barren save for a big red toolbox and a few boxes stacked in a far corner. His truck takes up the majority of the space, a fairly new dark blue Toyota Tundra. Totally on brand for him, clean and gleaming under the fluorescent lights overhead. He pulls open the passenger side door for you to climb in, which flusters you a bit.

You scurry to climb into it and sit back into the comfy seat as he shuts your door and rounds the vehicle to climb in on his side.

You ride in comfortable silence as he drives you a few blocks down the road to the little grocery mart you’d been to on occasion when you were in need of something on this side of town. He parks and you’re glad to scoot out of the door and join him before he has time to come around and open the door for you again. The chivalry was nice but always managed to make you feel awkward instead of special.

You’re taken by surprise as he takes your hand in his and both make your way towards the entrance. The warmth of his hand envelops yours, his thumb draws lazy, soothing circles on the back of your hand and the flustered feeling you’d been feeling, a combination of the new experience of being seen with him in public and him being so gentlemanly, eases.

You walk side by side out of the car park and into the brightly lit store. He picks up one of the little baskets from a metal cage and begins veering towards the back of the store. He seems to know exactly what he needs and where it all is so you just lose yourself a bit in the moment, looking at things on the shelves and watching him as he shops.

Normally when you shop by yourself it’s a race. A race to get everything you need and get out as fast as humanly possible, it’s something about being out in public for too long that makes your skin crawl. But this. This is different. Something about being with Johnny puts you at an inexplicable ease. He’s confident and knowledgeable, and for once you don’t feel like your mind is moving a million miles a minute under the scrutiny of every other set of eyes in the building. You can just simply relax and be, let him take over.

In produce you watch him pick up three different onions that, to you, look no different but he rolls them in the palm of his hand and gives them each a light toss in the air. Somehow— that decides it and he puts two of them back and places the chosen one down in the basket.

Every time he lets go of your hand for something you’re sure that’s the end of it, just knowing the moment will be lost but he surprises you each time anew when he comes back to you and takes it again, leading you through the sections hand in hand.

You stop in the spirits aisle and grimace as he picks up a bottle of dry red wine. The front is embossed with a duck in a yellow slicker, an umbrella cocked jauntily and tucked securely under one white wing, shielding him from a shower of rain falling from a single dark cloud that looms over its head. In a bright gold scroll underneath this curious image are the words “Rain Duck”. The image is very reminiscent of the Morton salt girl you’d always seen in the spice cabinet of your childhood home.

He looks over and catches your look of disgust and laughs, a hearty cheerful sound that momentarily wipes the scowl from your face and threatens to send you into your own fit of meek giggles. “Dinnae worry hen, s’just fer the sauce. Will nae even taste it, ah promise.”

He sets it down in the basket and heads towards the front of the store to checkout. You stand in line and wait your turn until the cashier clears the person in front of you and Johnny begins to empty his basket onto the conveyor belt one item at a time.

By the time he’d finished, the cashier, a tall skinny man with dark rimmed glasses had already begun to ring you up and Johnny suddenly smacks the palm of his hand to his forehead. “Ahhhh shite. Ah forgot somethin’. Stay here with the groceries bonnie, I’ll be right back.”

He takes off in a power walk towards the back of the store and disappears around a shelf. You rock back and forth on your feet and pray that by the time the cashier is done Johnny will be back. You know if he’s not you’ll cave to the pressure of the people behind you and end up paying for everything yourself, just so you don’t hold the line.

You crane over the partitions of shelves that mark the separate checkout lanes in search of Johnny but your attention is redirected when the cashier clears his throat and calls out to you to get your attention. “Excuse me, miss.”

You turn, dreading the worst but there’s still a good amount of items left unscanned and he’s got the bottle of Rain Duck held past the scanner, looking to you attentively.

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize he only needs your ID to finish ringing up the wine. You pull your wallet from your purse and the relief you had felt instantly dissipates. The pleasantly relaxed state you’d been lulled into suddenly felt like the calm prelude to a horrifying nightmare. The clear plastic pane that normally covered your horrible ID photo was empty. You tipped it open, hoping for some horrible trick of the light or optical illusion but the sleeve was empty.

You quickly shuffled through the individual card sleeves, hoping against hope that you’d somehow slipped it into one of them by mistake but it wasn’t there. Your ID was missing. The panic sets in the pit of your stomach like a lead ball as Johnny squeezes up behind you holding a carton of heavy cream. His smile disappears when he sees your face.

He quickly sets the heavy cream down on the belt and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Bonnie, what is it? What’s wrong?”

The cashier calls out to him impatiently. “Sir?” Johnny looks up at him, with death glaring from his eyes before turning back to you. “Come on, lass. What’s the matter?” You whisper because it’s all you can muster, your vocal cords withered to nothing in fright.

“My ID. It’s gone.” The cashier tried again to get Johnny’s attention and you barely hear Johnny as he speaks very low and angrily at the man behind the counter. Johnny must have done as he asked though because soon enough you feel Johnny’s arms gently pulling you towards the exit. It makes you snap out of your horror for a moment and offer to help carry the bags back to his truck but he’s having none of it, insisting on carrying the whole load in two huge armloads all the way back himself.

You slip into the passenger seat as he puts the groceries in the back and only look up from staring at the lines in your denim jeans when the driver side door shuts and the cab is silent for a moment. He’s looking at you, very concerned and you realize he’s waiting for you to explain in more detail.

“My ID is gone. Completely gone.” He seems to think for a moment before he responds and asks if you’d checked your purse. You quickly do as he’d suggested and go through it but it’s not there either and the momentary hope you’d felt at his suggestion died almost as soon as it’d been born.

“Maybe I dropped it at the club.” A smile begins to form on your face as you grasp at anything other than the truth. “That’s it Johnny! We’ve gotta go back to the club. They’ll have found it cleaning up! And we can go get it and everything’s fine!” He doesn’t look convinced as you look over to him for validation.

“Lass, be honest with yerself fer a moment. How often do ye take yer ID out of yer wallet when ye need it?” Your smile began to fade, he was right. Anytime you needed it you just opened it and flashed it without ever taking it out of the slot, you’d bought that wallet specifically for that feature because you were so worried about losing it.

“I ken ye didnae want tae believe what happened tae ye, but there’s no denyin’ it now. Someone targeted ye last night. Picked ye out of the crowd and drugged yer drink when ye werenae lookin’ an’ they took yer ID in case they couldnae seal the deal right away. He’s got yer address an’ yer name an’ even yer picture.”

You listen to him talk as the cold, cruel hand of reality closes around your throat and the disgust of being violated in such a thorough way begins to worm its way under your skin. You can feel Johnny struggling to find words to comfort you from the seat next to you but he must not find any that are adequate because he starts the truck instead and drives you home in a silence that had on the way been comfortable and passive but now was pregnant with tension and doom.

You get back to his place and he unloads the truck as you sit inside and try not to panic at the situation you’ve found yourself in. You thank your lucky stars that Johnny had found you and brought you home now. If you’d somehow miraculously made it home without incident this mysterious man could have crept into your home while you were incapacitated and done any number of things to you. You imagined all the horrifying possibilities, each more daunting than the last as he unpacked and put everything away.

He must sense your spiraling thoughts because he calls you into the kitchen with him as he starts to cook. Chopping onions, heating shallow pools of oil in two different skillets, measuring out beef broth and flour and water in varying amounts as he practices the fine art of mise en place.

You try, really truly try not to let the fear of your predicament gnaw away at you too hard but it’s almost an act in futility. He looks up at you after cracking his third shot and missed joke while dredging the ox tails in flour and notices you staring down at your hands in deeply troubled thought.

He stops what he’s doing and comes over to the counter, bending down to lean over its sturdy surface and get your attention. You look up at him and feel your heart skip a little as he has no business being so damn attractive covered in flour like he is.

“Listen hen. I ken yer goin through it right now. Probably spooked right out of yer tree, but I promise ye yer in no danger here. I dare him tae walk through that door right now. I swear tae ye ill dismantle him with my flour covered hands before he even so much as touches a hair on yer bonnie head.”

You can’t help but smile as you imagine him wrecking your faceless oppressor, flour flying about in clouds as the impact of his blows knock it loose from his hands.

“There’s tha’ smile. Now be a doll an’ open mah wine fer me. I forgot before ah got all messy.”

You stand from your stool and open the drawer he directs you towards to locate the corkscrew. The rest of the preparation you do in a much better mood. While you had a brand new serious problem on your hands there was no need in sulking over it when there was nothing you could do at the moment and anytime spent with Johnny was hard not to enjoy.

He plated your portion and set you down across from him so he could watch your first bite. You wanted him to eat with you, a bit self conscious at him just watching you eat but he insisted he had to start on dessert before he could sit down to dinner.

You cut the big chunk of meat with your knife and fork and then dipped it down in the pool of sauce just as he’d instructed you to. He watched you intently as you brought the fork to your mouth and took your first bite.

Your eyes widen before half closing, you can’t help the soft moan that resounds as the tender meat and rich, savory sauce feel like they pull your taste buds into their arms and hug them soft and sweetly. It’s absolutely divine and you look up from your plate to see Johnny, smug as a bug grinning wolfily at your reactions.

“Told ye it’d bring ye tae tears.” You can’t even respond, just swallow and take another eager bite, this time with a little of the risotto from the bed that the meat is resting on. “Jesus Christ, Johnny. Where in the fuck did you learn to cook like this?”

His grin is so wide you’re worried it’ll be stuck that way and to your amusement you can tell his cheeks have reddened even under his nice, even tan. “Yer makin’ me blush, hen. S’just what ah’ve picked up along tha way. Ye could do it too. I could teach ye.”

You nod enthusiastically, you’d like that very much and you have a feeling so would he. You really dig into your meal in earnest as he works. His back is to you as he prepares dessert on the stove and you wonder just what it might be. Steam rises up in thin streams as he pours something into two ramekins and sticks them in the oven.

By the time you’re done he’s cracking into his own dinner as you begin working on the dishes. He protests but you stay firm that if he cooked the absolute least you could do was help clean up. He finally relented and let you work as he ate as quickly as he could so he could help dry the dishes at least.

By the time everything was done so was the dessert and he pulled it from the oven to cool as he leaned over the counter and held your gaze raptly with his. “It’s time, lass. What have ye decided?”

But with the way he’s staring you down it feels like he’s on the edge of his seat. Those blue eyes piercing yours and you know every second you don’t answer is killing him, you can read it all over his face so even though you’d made your mind up you told him you weren’t sure.

He looked a bit dejected but it wasn’t the broken disappointment you knew you’d have been graced with if you’d downright shut his proposition down. His eyes light up suddenly in a way you hadn’t been expecting like he’d just had the idea of a century.

“Play a game with me, lass.” You regarded him distrustfully. “What kind of game, Johnny?”

“I’ll show ye, come on.” You follow after him into the bedroom, a bit wary. He stops in front of the pull up bar and turns back towards you.

“Johnny you and I both know there’s no way I’m besting you in a pull up contest, I’d be mental to even try. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Ohhh no, hen. Nothing like tha’, yer right t’wouldnae be fair. All I want ye tae do is hang from the bar. Can ye do that?”

You jump up and grab the bar to see if you’ve got the right idea and he smiles and nods. “Jus’ like that, all ye’ve gotta do is not let go. Think ye can handle it?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” You felt like there was something hidden in this that he wasn’t revealing and you weren’t wrong.

“Well it would nae be a game if there was nae some kind of a catch now would it, hen?” You swallow hard and watch him saddle closer, pinning you back into the cool metal bars.

“Ye’ve got tae hold yerself up until ye come.” His smirk widens as your mouth drops open a little, at first for some kind of rebuttal but you can’t come up with anything to say so it just hangs open as your mind blanks.

You finally get a grip enough to ask him to explain. “Well, yer goin’ tae hang onto tha bar an’ ah’m goin’ tae try mah hardest tae make ye come. If ye can hold onto it just until then, then you win but if ye cannae do it, an’ ye let go then I win.”

You mull over his terms and he just leans back a bit and lets you, waiting for your answer. Instead of giving him one you inquire further. “What do I get if I win?”

His answer is another simple question. “What do ye want?” A simple question that was complicated to find an answer for. What did you want from him? After a moment's thought you answered. “I want you to tell me everything you remember about last night and I want you to help me find this guy that did this to me. I don’t want to live in fear like this. You take me up to the club and we ask if they found my ID and if not then we ask to see the video footage of that night.”

“Hen, there’s no garuntee—“ You stop him. “I know. Just promise me if I win you’ll help me.” He looks a bit troubled, like he hadn’t meant for this to take this kind of turn and you wonder for a moment if he’ll back out.

“If I win ye have tae tell me the real reason ye never came back to the gym an’ never texted me an’ just disappeared.” You go to answer when he adds. “And ye stay.”

You sort of knew he was going to play that and even though you’d anticipated it, it still manages to fluster you hearing it.

You think about it real hard, just being around him had you more or less worked up all day, you were fairly confident that you could come quickly, even now just having discussed the game with him you knew your panties were damp. But could you hold yourself up for that length of time?

Reluctantly, you accepted. You even felt sure enough to jest him a bit about how easy of a win this would be for you, it was a decision you came to regret as he leaned in close to your ear and whispered. “Ah’m goin’ tae make ye eat those words, hen.”

A shudder of anticipation passed through you as he kissed you on your neck, just below your ear with a pass of his velvet soft tongue, giving you a little taste of what was to come.

The game had apparently begun as he stooped down to help shed you of your jeans, pulling them down and kissing the skin revealed as he exposed it. Next came your panties and they were damp, a fact that tore a rumble of approval from his chest but he wouldn’t touch you yet.

“Cannae give ye too much of a head start now can we?” He patted the side of your thigh curtly. “Up up.”

You do as he says and it’s a little late to be self conscious now but you can’t help it as you dangle from the metal rod and he spreads your thighs so you’re open to him. You worry he’s going to cheat you a bit as he stares at your bare pussy and you begin to complain when it dies in your throat as his tongue licks a broad stripe up the length of your slit. “Shit!”

He chuckles a little and dives in, resting his hands in the crooks of your knees but offering no support as he begins to eat you out in earnest. You can’t help but moan, your eyes glossy and unfocused as you stare down at him feasting on you from below. It feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced, the strain in your arms adding an element of pain that scratches a hidden itch in the back of your brain.

You shift in his hold uncomfortably as his tongue darts into your entrance, collecting your juices on his tongue and drinking them down. You want, so desperately, to be able to grip him by the Mohawk and hold onto him for dear life but you can’t so you squeeze the bar in your grip and sweetly moan his name instead.

His tongue finds your clit and it just about throws you over the edge but proves to be not quite enough as you chase it in hopes of victory. His hands squeeze and grope the flesh of your thighs and ass as he eats. You thought at the start of this that you would have had this in the bag but the stretch of your arms was outweighing the pull of your pleasure.

It wasn’t for a lack of Johnny’s enthusiasm, his head stayed buried in the heat of your pussy the whole time as he drove you towards the edge as quickly and efficiently as possible. Despite the burn in your biceps you could feel your orgasm building to a boiling point, you had no doubt you’d be coming soon but would it be soon enough for you to win?

He suddenly began to run quick sharp circles over the top of your clit with the pad of his thumb, while his tongue laps at your entrance like a bear to a beehive hole. It’s so good you can’t help but moan, low and dragging as you careen towards the center of the nova of pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

Your wrists tremble and a cramp unlike any you’ve ever experienced begins to glow like a white hot coal in your armpit and it’s beyond you to be able to hold on any longer. Your pinky finger slips first and then the rest quickly follow. You squeal as you realize you’re going to fall but his arms push your legs up onto his shoulders and he catches you just as you let go.

A flood of relief flows through your aching arms and you realize you’ve lost but the sting of defeat plays second fiddle to the massive orgasm that takes you by the throat just an instant later. He holds you up with the strength in his arms alone as you come undone above him. He spins around as your thighs still tremble and gently places you on the bed.

You are still very sensitive and your thighs go to clench shut when they’re blocked by one wide knee. He wastes no time in slotting himself between them, his mouth crashing to yours as you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He cages you beneath him, pulling off your lips to bite and suck at your neck. His hands roam you freely, pulling at your top until it’s up over your head and lifting you up for access to the clasp of your bra.

With it successfully pulled away from your breasts he dives down and devours them, lips wrapping around one pert nipple as the other he gropes with the full palm of his hand, trying to hold as much of it as possible. You nearly shriek with the overstimulation of it and he pulls away to whisper both praise and apologies.

“Jus’ cannae help it, bonnie. Need tae be inside you, please? Let me fuck you, hen. Been cravin’ tha’ perfect little pussy. Come on, lass. Give it tae me.” He’s rubbing the very prominent bulge of his cock against your thigh all the while and you can’t help but clench around nothing in anticipation.

“Fuck Johnny! Do it! Fill me up.” He wastes no time, quickly abandoning your breasts to free himself from the confinements of his jeans. He doesn’t even get them down all the way before he’s fishing himself from his boxers and rubbing the tip hurriedly up and down your slit. You jump and squeal at the sensation and he coos more apologies at you before lining himself up and pushing inside.

You moan in unison as he stretches you open and his arms come up to brace himself on either side of your head. He muffles your moans with his mouth as he leans down and kisses you, swallowing them up as he begins to move and your hands fly to his arms, bracing yourself against the onslaught that is the drag of his fat cock.

You pull away for air and immediately expel it into a high pitched whine as he picks up a fast and steady rhythm, hips knocking into yours on each upward thrust. The fact that you've already came does nothing to alleviate the burn that accompanies the stretch of him. He’s a force and you can do nothing against it but hold on.

You try to make sense of what he’s saying as he fucks you stupid but only catch half of it. Something about keeping you safe forever. Poorly worded promises and vows pouring from his mouth as he uses you to reach his release.

You can feel it fast approaching and can do nothing but steel yourself against it as he pounds a second orgasm from you, the snap of his hips and the drive of his cock demands it of you. “Aww fuck, hen. Are ye gonna come fer me again? Hmm? Let me feel it. Come on lass, let me take care of ye forever. Ye can have this fer the rest of our lives if ye jus’ come fer me right now.”

He says it like you have a choice in the matter as you become locked in the throes of your ecstasy brought forth by his hand and in the midst of yours you vaguely feel him reach his. Coming hard and fast deep inside the tight clutch of your pussy.

It takes you both an eternity to recover and when he finally rolls off you, you realize you’d half fallen asleep, cradled safely under him, worn out and sated.

After a moment he gets up and leaves the room and he’s gone forever to the point where you almost get up to go after him but he comes back in with two small white dishes in hand along with two spoons.

You sit up on one elbow as he hands you one and the accompanying silverware. Looking down at it you can see a dark golden brown crust, a glassy glaze over the surface but are otherwise clueless as to what’s before you. You watch him experimentally as he takes the handle of the spoon in between his thumb and index finger and brings the bowl of the spoon down on top of the crust with an audible smack. The crust breaks and there’s a jiggly dense cream beneath.

Following suit, you bring your spoon down onto yours and scoop up a glob of the pale white gelatin. You take a bite and smile as the cool, sweet cream melts over your tongue. You sit there with him, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and eating crème brûlée.

It gets you thinking, you could have this indefinitely. Do this every night if you’d like and as if reading your thoughts he speaks.

“I won, but the choice is still yers. Stay with me, hen. Ah’ll keep ye safe. No worries, no lookin’ over yer shoulder forever or double checkin’ yer locks all yer life. Let me take care of ye. I want to, an tha’s honest.”

You stare at him, his blue eyes are soft and filled with adoration and honesty. He really wants you here with him and is that really so bad? How many times are you gonna pass up this opportunity before it’s gone? And will you be looking back later with regret once the door has closed?

You have to drop his gaze to decide but recapture it once you do. You go to tell him “Ok, but only until I’ve found a new place.” but he seizes you in his arms after the first word and pulls you hard against him like a five year old child handed a cat and told they can keep it.

“Johnny! You’re squishing me!” You complain but the sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant.

He does everything with you side by side for the rest of the night. He changes with you, he brushes his teeth with you, he even lingers around when you try to go to the bathroom before bed, it takes a good amount of effort on your part to make him leave the room but you know he’s stood just outside the cracked door that he neglects to close on the way out.

Climbing under the sheets with him you wonder just how sleeping together for the first night is gonna go, actually wondering if you’ll get any sleep at all but then he pulls you into his chest and to your surprise he doesn’t try anything sexual. He doesn’t rub a hard bulge against you or grope your tits. He just wants you close, his warm chest filling out the dip of your back, his legs entangle themselves with yours, his feet even nudge yours affectionately in lazy passes.

It’s a while before either of you speak and Johnny thought you’d been long asleep when you say “I can’t afford a membership.” There’s a pause in your words and just when he understands what you’re saying you say more. “That’s why I didn’t come back to the gym, I thought it’d be easier.. for both of us.. if I just disappeared.”

And there’s something about your honesty, the way you’d remembered and honored your whole end of the bargain, the candidness of revealing you struggled with the decision, the mild sleepy drag of your voice that’s barely audible in the darkness that pulls directly on his heart and he couldn’t articulate a response if he’d tried so he doesn’t.

Maybe you believe he’s asleep and maybe it’s better that way. But he’s not. A few moments later he hears your breathing even out and he knows from the previous night that you’re asleep. He lays awake long after that holding you.

He thinks about you and how he’d finally got you to see reason. He thinks about times when the outcome of a situation is more valuable and important— the greater good one might say, than the means it took to reach it. Omelets, for instance, constitute broken eggs.

It takes a certain amount of necessary malice for these things. An agent who realizes what’s at stake and what’s to gain, willing to act on these conditions and set them right, no matter the cost. And lastly, he thinks about your ID, sitting snuggly behind his in his wallet. Tomorrow after he drops you off at work he’ll dispose of it. Maybe burn it, maybe shred it, maybe tie it to a heavy rock and throw it off the bridge at the park, watch it sink into the murky, goose poop filled pond until it gets too deep to see.

No one will know. But Johnny will. Johnny will know that in the end, his end, it justified his means. You are safe and you are his and there is no means too heinous, no act too profound to reach it.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod soap #twdubcon #dark!johnny #darkfic #johnny soap mctavish x you

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thunderboltfire · 3 months

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I have a lot of complicated feelings when it comes to what Neflix has done with the Witcher, but my probably least favourite is the line of argumentation that originated during shitstorms related to the first and second season that I was unlucky to witness.

It boils down to "Netflix's reinterpretation and vision is valid, because the Witcher books are not written to be slavic. The overwhelming Slavic aestetic is CDPR's interpretation, and the setting in the original books is universally European, as there are references to Arthurian mythos and celtic languages" And I'm not sure where this argument originated and whether it's parroting Sapkowski's own words or a common stance of people who haven't considered the underlying themes of the books series. Because while it's true that there are a lot of western european influences in the Witcher, it's still Central/Eastern European to the bone, and at its core, the lack of understanding of this topic is what makes the Netflix series inauthentic in my eyes.

The slavicness of the Witcher goes deeper than the aestetics, mannerisms, vodka and sour cucumbers. Deeper than Zoltan wrapping his sword with leopard pelt, like he was a hussar. Deeper than the Redanian queen Hedvig and her white eagle on the red field.

What Witcher is actually about? It's a story about destiny, sure. It's a sword-and-sorcery style, antiheroic deconstruction of a fairy tale, too, and it's a weird mix of many culture's influences.

But it's also a story about mundane evil and mundane good. If You think about most dark, gritty problems the world of Witcher faces, it's xenophobia and discrimination, insularism and superstition. Deep-seated fear of the unknown, the powerlessness of common people in the face of danger, war, poverty and hunger. It's what makes people spit over their left shoulder when they see a witcher, it's what makes them distrust their neighbor, clinging to anything they deem safe and known. It's their misfortune and pent-up anger that make them seek scapegoats and be mindlessly, mundanely cruel to the ones weaker than themselves.

There are of course evil wizards, complicated conspiracies and crowned heads, yes. But much of the destruction and depravity is rooted in everyday mundane cycle of violence and misery. The worst monsters in the series are not those killed with a silver sword, but with steel. it's hard to explain but it's the same sort of motiveless, mundane evil that still persist in our poorer regions, born out of generations-long poverty and misery. The behaviour of peasants in Witcher, and the distrust towards authority including kings and monarchs didn't come from nowhere.

On the other hand, among those same, desperately poor people, there is always someone who will share their meal with a traveller, who will risk their safety pulling a wounded stranger off the road into safety. Inconditional kindness among inconditional hate. Most of Geralt's friends try to be decent people in the horrible world. This sort of contrasting mentalities in the recently war-ridden world is intimately familiar to Eastern and Cetral Europe.

But it doesn't end here. Nilfgaard is also a uniquely Central/Eastern European threat. It's a combination of the Third Reich in its aestetics and its sense of superiority and the Stalinist USSR with its personality cult, vast territory and huge army, and as such it's instantly recognisable by anybody whose country was unlucky enough to be caught in-between those two forces. Nilfgaard implements total war and looks upon the northerners with contempt, conscripts the conquered people forcibly, denying them the right of their own identity. It may seem familiar and relevant to many opressed people, but it's in its essence the processing of the trauma of the WW2 and subsequent occupation.

My favourite case are the nonhumans, because their treatment is in a sense a reminder of our worst traits and the worst sins in our history - the regional antisemitism and/or xenophobia, violence, local pogroms. But at the very same time, the dilemma of Scoia'Tael, their impossible choice between maintaining their identity, a small semblance of freedom and their survival, them hiding in the forests, even the fact that they are generally deemed bandits, it all touches the very traumatic parts of specifically Polish history, such as January Uprising, Warsaw Uprising, Ghetto Uprising, the underground resistance in WW2 and the subsequent complicated problem of the Cursed Soldiers all at once. They are the 'other' to the general population, but their underlying struggle is also intimately known to us.

The slavic monsters are an aestetic choice, yes, but I think they are also a reflection of our local, private sins. These are our own, insular boogeymen, fears made flesh. They reproduce due to horrors of the war or they are an unprovoked misfortune that descends from nowhere and whose appearance amplifies the local injustices.

I'm not talking about many, many tiny references that exist in the books, these are just the most blatant examples that come to mind. Anyway, the thing is, whether Sapkowski has intended it or not, Witcher is slavic and it's Polish because it contains social commentary. Many aspects of its worldbuilding reflect our traumas and our national sins. It's not exclusively Polish in its influences and philosophical motifs of course, but it's obvious it doesn't exist in a vacuum.

And it seems to me that the inherently Eastern European aspects of Witcher are what was immediately rewritten in the series. It seems to me that the subtler underlying conflicts were reshaped to be centered around servitude, class and gender disparity, and Nilfgaard is more of a fanatic terrorist state than an imposing, totalitarian empire. A lot of complexity seems to be abandoned in lieu of usual high-fantasy wordbuilding. It's especially weird to me because it was completely unnecessary. The Witcher books didn't need to be adjusted to speak about relevant problems - they already did it! The problem of acceptance and discrimination is a very prevalent theme throughout the story! They are many strong female characters too, and they are well written. Honestly I don't know if I should find it insulting towards their viewers that they thought it won't be understood as it was and has to be somehow reshaped to fit the american perpective, because the current problems are very much discussed in there and Sapkowski is not subtle in showing that genocide and discrimination is evil. Heck, anyone who has read the ending knows how tragic it makes the whole story.

It also seems quite disrespectful, because they've basically taken a well-established piece of our domestic literature and popular culture and decided that the social commentary in it is not relevant. It is as if all it referenced was just not important enough and they decided to use it as an opportunity to talk about the problems they consider important. And don't get me wrong, I'm not forcing anyone to write about Central European problems and traumas, I'm just confused that they've taken the piece of art already containing such a perspective on the popular and relevant problem and they just... disregarded it, because it wasn't their exact perspective on said problem.

And I think this homogenisation, maybe even from a certain point of view you could say it's worldview sanitisation is a problem, because it's really ironic, isn't it? To talk about inclusivity in a story which among other problems is about being different, and in the same time to get rid of motifs, themes and references because they are foreign? Because if something presents a different perspective it suddenly is less desirable?

There was a lot of talking about the showrunners travelling to Poland to understand the Witcher's slavic spirit and how to convey it. I don't think they really meant it beyond the most superficial, paper-thin facade.

#The witcher #Sorry if its convoluted I just got reminded of something and it made me a little angry #and as I had this conversation a lot of times I've decided to put it into written text #sorry about being bitter #but these are some of my favourite books and I'm still upset when I get reminded how badly they were treated in the recent adaptation #I'm not saying you should never change anything #But it's good to have enough background to understand why some things are the way they are in the original #and to understand what the source material is about #we don't talk about particular character's looks or something (altough I feel they could care more about it too)#but central themes tropes and motifs #long post #it may seem like I'm talking from a high horse here #people are welcome to interpret literature however they want #Nobody has a monopol on themes #I just think that in this particular case the cultural context influences the worldbuilding #and if changed it doesn't have the same impact anymore #meta

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natural-idiot3 · 4 months

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Tsaritsa

⚠️Warning! contains: yandere themes, angst, gore!, not much sense! Read at your own risk ⚠️

I got this idea from character ai. A weak goddess au was made by @Altxir in character ai. And I got this idea that has been haunting me all night.

————————-

“Cut them off.”

You paused for a moment unsure if you heard her correctly but before you could ask her to repeat…

“Wings are an image of your freedom so prove your faith to me. Cut. Them. Off.”

——————

You were a weak goddess that was being hunted down by your old followers because you made a few… mistakes. These mistakes allowed hatred to brew, jealousy to take over your land and overall your people’s faith in you disappeared.

The only powers you had were flying as your wings were huge and the power of blessing rain for good harvest every year. All gods wanted your wings to hang as trophies for killing you because you were a lesser god, one that had their own followers betray them. You don’t have any power to defend yourself, you needed protection from your old followers and other gods. Unfortunately as most gods wanted to kill you, you couldn’t trust any of them for protection apart from a few…

The anemo archon Barabotes, the dendro archon Rukkhadevata and the cryo archon the Tsaritsa. The anemo archon disappeared and the dendro archon was dealing with the withering so you can’t go to them for help!

So you went to the last place you could get protection… Snezhnaya.

You travelled long distances, going over mountains, through forests and into the desert. With the bounty above your head, you couldn’t fly otherwise you would be spotted instantly. So you had to walk for miles, hide whenever someone came along and survive off hunting rabbits and berries. But eventually you arrived in Snezhnaya.

The bitter cold didn’t do any good for your wings… they could only be used to wrap around you to create a blanket of warmth. Eventually you were able to get to the frozen place. Even in the night it glowed an icy blue and glittered showing the reflection of the stars in the sky. The frozen place was beautiful but even a beautiful rose has thorns. You were granted entry to the great hall as if they already knew you were coming.

The Tsaritsa was breathtaking. A powerful aura… one you don’t wish to ever challenge. Walking further into the hall, you see all the fatui harbingers standing equal on different sides of the Tsaritsas throne.

This place was truly terrifying.

——————

“Cut them off.”

You paused for a moment unsure if you heard her correctly but before you could ask her to repeat…

“Wings are an image of your freedom so prove your faith to me Cut. Them. Off.” It was said in a commanding and intimidating voice that roared out sending fear down your spine.

“I want you to prove that you want to be my follower. You are a god. Even if you are weak… I will only accept those who prove their faith.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing… cut off your wings to get protection…

It’s … but you suppose it’s better than getting killed.

A weapon is thrown to your feet… waiting for your answer…

——————

A muffled blood curling scream echoed through the cold halls… no one breathed… no one made a single sound…

A thud was heard a few seconds later…

All the fatui harbingers were shocked while the Tsaritsa was unfazed. Unfazed of how much blood poured out your back. Unfazed of the pain smudging across your face.

One wing was off…

Your back was lighter… a horrible feeling. No longer a comfortable heaviness was there. No more extra warmth. It was cold… and painful. The wing had completely come off… but only one wing.

The fatui gazes stated disbelief and shock.

Just how bad did you need protection to go this far?

What a cruel demand…

You writhed in pain… it made you head go blank with whiteness as you had felt muscles rips apart and bones snap. The wing was completely severed from the rest of you… but this was not over.

You waited for the pain to lessen so she could move the weapon to the other wing.

———

This weapon was a simple chain with a handle and a spell that activated when you put any magic into it. You had to wrap this around you wing and put a slight bit of your magic into it… the spell activated.

The chain suddenly dug into your wing and go so tight it crushed through muscles and bone… until it had completely come off.

This time you couldn’t hold back a scream.

The scream echoed throughout the icy cold walls of the great hall.

As more blood gushed out of your wingless back, the Tsarista stood up from her icy throne, her heels echoing through the great hall. Standing above you… she kneeled down and spoke softly…

“Well done my child. I will use these wings to show a fake death… other gods will stay away. You’re safe now. Safe and… mine. My faithful servant”…

She wrapped her arms around you… not caring for the blood staining her white and light blue dress. She’s cold… colder than your now bare back. But a pleasant cold… safe and… your eyes grew heavy…

“It’s alright, I’ve got you. You’re all mine…”

————

Well… you’re free to use this idea if you want. Goodbye!

#genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin imagines #genshin impact fatui #genshin sagau #Genshin goddess au #genshin yandere

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lonelystarrs · 1 year

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Beach Balls.

Barou Shouei x FemReader x Nagi Seishiro

What would it take to convince Barou Shouei to end up on a beach? It’s messy, sand gets everywhere, it’s unhygienic. Who knew it would be so simple —You, a bikini and Nagi Seishiro, the hassle man who didn’t seem to get the hint that you were the kings queen. He’d share this once but only to get his point across.

Kinda an extra spin off from this story: Pudding <linked

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • all aged up 23+• Smut • f/m only • Nagi watches/joins in • Establish relationship with Barou • public sex • beach/summer theme • Nagi and Barou bickering • reader oblivious to Nagi’s interest • size kink • praise / degradation kink • lazy 3some • Barou Doms • prone bone position • fluff with Barou at the end • funny plot twist ending as usual for my bllk fics lol THAT AINT SUNLOTION BRUH •

Hope it’s worth it guys! Took me so long to get this done! It was wayy longer than I planned but it’s so 🌶️ skip to the end of you don’t have patience cause it’s funny nagi is a lil shit💀

Fuck it was hot.

This temperature was ridiculous.

Everything was sticky and it made you lethargic.

Life was hard at the moment, seriously.

“Quit sighin’ will ya? You’re pissing me off.”

The side eye you gave Barou was bombastic, unfazed as always, immune to your death glares he strode by in nothing but tiny ass man shorts that gripped his ass tighter with each stride.

Huge body rippling, sweat beads lightly down him dipping through the lines of his ridiculous muscles that your tongue knew so well.

You groaned again and Barou threw a glare over his shoulder.

“You deaf? Fuck off somewhere else.”

“I was appreciating you so hard it made me groan actually, you dildo!”

“Dildo?!”

“Yeah,”

“Keep up the snark and I’ll buy you a box of them when I leave your ass,”

“Single life doesn’t suit me, thanks for the offer though my best dildo ♡”

“Fucking brat.”

You snickered as Barou left the living room and you watched his tight shorts hug his ass as he walked away. Your phone pinged, which you ignored because reaching for it on the glass table across from your sprawled out form on the sofa was simply too hard. The air con was on, blowing by occasionally and it kept the house cool, but moving soon took away the pleasure of coolness to break into a sweat.

Another couple pings echoed in the living room until your curiosity outweighed your pain of having to move.

Isagi:

Bachira and I are heading to the beach, who’s coming?

Bachira:

Let’s go! ;) I have a ball! :D

Reo:

Busy, have a good time tho.

Nagi:

Seems like a bother, it’s too hot I don’t wanna move. :x

Barou:

No. Get rid of my number peasants.

You:

Sure! Can we volley ball? Where shall I meet you guys? ♡

Nagi:

Kay, I’ll come.

Bachira:

Hahahahahaha cute Nagi! Yeeeees we can! I’ll be on ur team 😍

Reo:

🤢 Nagi.

Isagi:

💀 meet at our usual cafe? Say 12pm? I haven’t played volleyball but I’ll give it a go!

You:

I’ll show you boys how to handle balls in different ways, don’t worry. Best to be taught by a pro after all. 😜

Nagi:

s’ that a promise? :x

Reo:

I thought better of you Nagi. Girl, keep that shit between you and king asshole.

You:

Sure @Nagi! I’ll teach you, aren’t you going to watch videos tho? How you usually learn? @Reo Hahahaha, he really is an asshole ♡

You locked your phone whilst you swung your feet from the sofa and checked the time, thirty minutes before you needed to leave.

Barou wasn’t within your line of sight as you changed into a hot pink bikini that complimented your skin tone, sliding on some denim shorts that were truthfully a little on a short side and grabbing a white tank top.

Packing a small bag of drinks, lotion and towels, spare pair of flip flops to avoid Barou screaming about sand in the house, you said bye to said man but had no response.

Foolishly assuming that Barou had seen the group chat, knowing where you were going and what you were doing.

The man was in the garden working out, despite the radio active freaking heat —he was still as strict and dedicated rain or shine. His headphones in and the group chat turned to silent because such kings shouldn’t be associated with such peasants.

Isagi had set up your section impressively, making it as private as possible by hiring a location with a barrier around, you presumed to keep any media away or any on lookers who might recognise the boys.

Apparently if you weren’t with them they’d be less bothered, but dragging you into their media frenzies were less preferable, Barou would have their heads after all.

The section of the beach was fairly quiet despite the blaring heat, you pushed your hair back as you walked from the water, ends of your hair twisting around your hand as you drained the salt water from it. Eyes looking off to the side as you scanned the beach absentmindedly.

Failing to notice the boys watching, Bachira elbowed Isagi who was watching with just as much interest as Nagi.

“See Isagi? She’s pretty~!” His sing song voice, the teasing tone matched his current posture; legs crossed and his hands placed on the sand in the gap between them as he rocked his body slightly.

Grey eyes peering over his phone, interest finally swayed by the dribblers words, he greedily drank you in and his lazy mind quickly forming ideas that didn’t seem so bothersome. Nagi watched your hands running through your hair before twisting it to the side, tits bouncing lightly in that skimpy pink bikini. He swore he could see each drop of water slide down your body, disappearing into your cleavage and bikini bottoms —both places he’d happily bury his face into.

Seishiro swallowed thickly suddenly ripping from his daze only to notice they weren’t the only males on the beach staring at you. The odd girl slapping their boyfriends arms and one even pushing his face into the sand.

Nagi I didn’t even hear you until you prodded his forehead,

“Hey, earth to Sei!”

“Uh - hi.”

You blinked, head tilting as you looked him over sat under the shade of the umbrella.

“You okay Sei?”

You crouched down to him, he swallowed thickly again when your fingers brushed his hair from his eyes and forehead, pressing the back of your hand to it.

And he froze, training his eyes on your face and to not look down at your tits pressed together so close to his own face, barely covered in that bikini… if that strap came undone, god that’s all it would take for him to get an eyeful. Hell it was tempting -it would be easy, he’s so much taller than you all he’d need to do is stand next to you and pull on it without you even knowing.

“Hmm, you’re not really hot but your cheeks are a little red. Make sure you keep drinking ‘kay?”

He nodded completely dazed and doe eyed in his own lazy way, looking up at you like a child not really hearing a word you say because his eyes were hyper focused on those pretty plump lips moving.

“You haven’t taken your t-shirt off, did you put cream on?”

Nagi shook his head whilst shrugging and turned his eyes back to his phone that had laid forgotten in his limp hands on his lap.

You sat on the towel laid out for you, laying on your back you sighed in contentment and closed your eyes to enjoy the sun that beamed down to dry the water from your cooled skin.

It was pleasant, listening to Nagi’s fingers tapping on his screen, the occasional noise from his game and his little noises to signal his progression.

Until a shadow loomed over you, the heat from the sun disappearing instantly causing you to frown.

You don’t recall seeing a cloud in the sky today, or anywhere nearby when you were in the water not ten minutes ago.

“Woman-“

You opened an eye to see none other than Barou stood over you blocking the mighty sun with his ridiculous body, looming over you as a shadow with red eyes glowing.

“If you’re gonna say anything about chocolate melting in the sun-“

“Fuck you playing at?”

“It’s the scene from white chicks?”

You sat up onto your elbows and looked at him in question as his gaze only got harsher on your attempt of humour to deflect his doom and gloom presence. His attitude and stare caused annoyance to bite at your skin, his tone carrying accusation like you’d done something wrong.

“Nothing?”

“You didn’t think to ask or tell me you were leaving? Didn’t I tell you stay away from the louse?”

“I don’t have to ask you anything Barou, I thought you seen the chat and heard me say bye. Will you stop calling him a louse? He has a fucking name.”

“Yeah, Nagi. Naaaa-gi. Say it.”

Red eyes slid to said man, that was speaking in his lazy voice that made Barou’s teeth grind. Nagi was merely looking back at Barou with his usual bored gaze but the closer Barou looked the more he seen the fucking taunt glistening in those usual apathetic eyes.

“You’re dead hassle man.”

It took you a mere second to stand and press your finger into Barou’s chest, stepping forward into his space and getting up in his face. You didn’t expect him to step backwards and he didn’t, if you weren’t so annoyed you’d see his eyes soften, ever so slightly, when they met your own.

“No. He isn’t, unless you want a fucking scene here Barou sort it out, I have no idea what the hell is going on with you two but I’m done with it.”

You, Nagi and Barou were too absorbed in the moment to see blue and yellow eyes peering over the beach barrier set up around your spot, they were stood on the other side like spying teens with their fingers gripping the top.

“She’s -“

Isagi nodded as if he knew what Bachira was gonna say, really he didn’t, but he assumed it was to do with your feisty side that you hid so well. Really it wasn’t surprising —dealing with Barou wasn’t easy. It made sense that he liked someone who held their own.

“Thing is, Barou likes it.”

“Huh? What’cha mean Isagi?”

“Look at his cheeks!”

Bachira turned his eyes back and saw the tinge that prickled across the kings cheeks, barely noticeable until Isagi had pointed it out.

“Isagi the monster says we should leave now,”

“Yeah… she’ll handle it, right?”

You sighed as if relieving the annoyance and lowered your hand, finger tips brushing against Barou’s wrist as he glared off to the side.

“Stay?” You lowered your voice so only he’d hear and you watched his frown deepen signalling he heard you, “-please? You know I’m happier when you’re around B.”

“Buttering me up ain’t gonna do shit-“

“Fine, go sulk.”

You waved over your shoulder and sat back on your towel, part of you was surprised he was even here —he didn’t like the sand because it was messy and got everywhere. But here he stood with his shoes in his hand and his toes buried in the pretty white grains.

“Tch,” Barou sneered, eyes rolling he reached back and grabbed his t-shirt by the back of his neck, pulling it off in one motion and folding it neatly in your beach bag.

His red eyes turned towards the water, rolling his neck and shoulder, that’s when you noticed Barou had his hair down, half up into a bun. And he looked freaking goooooood.

Nagi watched as love hearts formed in your eyes, pupils changing shape as you looked on dreamily at the man causing him to pout, his little famous x shape forming as he felt suddenly forgotten about.

“Stupid king,” he mumbled, annoyed with the fact he finally had your attention getting you both alone for it only to be swiftly interrupted. He swore Barou had some kind of sixth sense when it came to you.

“Comin?”

Barou looked over his shoulder at you, annoyance was still biting at him but he found it hard to keep it up with you —after all you weren’t the reason he was wound up. Not like he would admit in a thousand years that Nagi Seishiro was getting under his skin.

Your name being called to your left took your attention from Barou, not noticing Nagi had stood to his full height and removed his shirt. Rubbing the back of his neck to express he was feeling somewhat awkward as he held a bottle of sun lotion out.

You weren’t looking at that though, your mouth fell slack at the condition Nagi was in —shocked at what he hid under those baggy clothes. You knew his height matched Barou and sometimes when Nagi actually straightened you could have sworn he was slightly taller than the king himself. He always looked so lean, so slender and it was a shock to see he was built like a freaking god under those clothes.

Barou was big, the man was packing in every sense so you were hardly starved but this was surprising and you must have been gawking because you felt your jaw clack as you closed it. Nagi’s voice bringing you back to clarity as guilt surged through you —it made you worried about looking back at Barou stood behind you, hoping to the gods he didn’t see your jaw slacken.

“Can you put this on my back f’me? It’s such a hassle,”

Barou’s eye twitched behind you, throbbing vein at his temple and his fists clenched.

“Uh- sure Nagi, can you sit down?”

“Like fuck yo-“

The smirk that twitched on Nagi’s mouth was aimed at Barou and he got the message, seeing nothing but red as your hands worked the lotion into Nagi’s back and shoulders. Sat on your knees cushioned by the sand, red eyes had to turn away, the boiling of his stomach acid churned him inside out.

He couldn’t show his jealousy, his ego far out weighing it in refusal on letting Nagi win this bullshit -it was not happening.

If that’s how he wanted to play, Barou would play harder. But instead of making him jealous over you touching him, Barou was going to get across that he was the only one who could touch you.

“All done Sei~!”

“Oi-“ you hummed at turned your attention to Barou who nodded his head, silently asking you to come near him, “-hand it over.”

He held his hand out for the lotion and you passed it to him as he told you to lay down on the towel again, straddling the backs of your thighs as he seated himself above you.

Nagi’s head tilted as he watched the position, Barou ignoring his existence as he squirted cream onto your back, undoing your bikini straps so his large hands could work into your skin.

“Ngh- B that feels s’ good.”

“Yeah?”

Your airy moans were a fucking godsend, Seishiro watched intently as he stared from his position watching you turn into putty under Barou’s hands.

“You got somewhere else to be, hassle man?”

“Not really.”

Barou sneered, shifting his knees for his highs to spread further, from Nagi’s angle it looked like a mere shift of comfort. To you though it was Barou pressing his growing semi into your ass, spreading his legs to push his hips forward letting you know that your little feisty attitude wasn’t brushed under the rug.

Your breath hitched in your throat, hands forming into fists as you tensed under him.

“Whats up?” Barou’s voice carried amusement, that mocking tone was obvious to you but seemingly harmless to someone who had no idea he was pushing his hardening dick into the swell of your ass.

Oh fuck him.

Seriously.

Literally.

No- Sei was still beside you, you stole a glance only to see the white haired man had moved himself to squat next to Barou. His eyes watching your skin and drinking in whatever he could. Sei’s cock twitched, that hum of arousal shot through his body.

“I wanna go-“

“Fuck off louse, go find something else better to do,”

“Nah, I wanna do this.”

Sei pressed his finger into your shoulder, running it up to your neck only for Barou to slap his hand away.

“Don’t you get it? She’s not yours-“

“Can’t you just share?”

What?

For the second time in ten minutes your breath hitched in your throat, lifting yourself onto your elbows completely forgetting Barou had undone your bikini straps.

The realisation hitting you like a fucking train.

This was why they were fighting all the time? Because Nagi wanted to share you?

Nagi Seishiro liked you?

“What the hell is going on?”

“Uh- y/n.”

You ignored Nagi’s attempt to speak, eyes widening, pink dusting across his cheeks as it crawled up his neck, his index finger pointing out which you didn’t follow due to being flustered by the sudden possibility that Nagi was interfering like this because he liked you.

“Is this why you boys are constantly fighting? Holy, what the-“

“Your uh-, I can see them.”

“What?” You blinked and Nagi blinked back at you, pointing you followed his finger to your exposed breasts, Barou all but slammed you down into the towel, your muffled umph as you almost got a mouthful of sand.

“Looks like I gotta show ya-“

Barou’s voice darkened in a way that actually worried you, his ego clearly soaring over his common sense and his patience long gone.

Barou shifted his hands, moving to your ass and grabbing it, spreading your cheeks for his thumbs to dip along the lines of your bikini bottoms pressing down on the lips of your pussy.

“B-Barou no, we-“

“Shut it, you’re pissin’ me off, always sticking up for him and shithead isn’t getting the hint, it’ll be two birds with one stone.”

An airy moan left you as one of his thumbs moved under the thin material and pressed against your hole, clenching around nothing in response at him pressing it into you.

Your head dipped, forehead leaning into your clenched hands in front of you as your elbows held up your weight when his thumb slid in.

Your eyes side glanced to Nagi who was watching Barou’s hands, his concentration on par with how he watched his soccer videos. Pink dusted his cheeks enough to compare with your own.

Barou slid his thumb in to the knuckle, twisting his hand to run his index finger to your clit, pushing the slick that was starting to drool from his thumb buried in your pussy.

“Tilt your hips up,” you did as he asked and moaned out at the pressure he applied to your clit, running hot circles around it making you buck backwards the best you could, Barou’s weight still holding your legs down as he rested on the backs of your thighs.

“What a little whore, you’re a fucking mess already, not supposed to be enjoyin’ this.”

“Ba- ngh - you need to stop,”

“Nah keep going crappy king.”

“Shut it louse, think you are giving me orders huh?“

Your body running hot was enough to ignore the bickering, rotating your hips so Barou’s index finger moved with it was enough to draw their eyes and attention back to you. The airy little moan leaving your lips as your ass jiggled with movement.

“Shit, pretty thing you look good.”

“Then listen to it hassle man, cause that’s as close as you’re ever gonna get.”

Barou shifted his hands and you whine from the feel of him leaving you, only to freeze when he lifted himself slightly from your hips, his shorts rustling behind you and his cock slapping against his stomach as he released it.

Reaching down he gripped the base, lowering it to slap on your ass a few times, his spare hand landed by your shoulder as he tilted over you pressing the head of his dick between the dip in your ass, sliding it down to your hole.

“Fuck -Barou we can’t-“

“Says who huh?”

“The fucking law, what if someone sees us? You guys are fucking famous it’s-“

“Quit whinin’ just have to keep it down won’t you?”

You cursed under your breath, hitching then in your throat as he started to push into you and it hurt. The angle was tight, Barou was massive —both girth and length gifting him to go with that ridiculous, unearthly body he had.

Your legs pressed together, his weight on the back of your thighs holding you down as he leaned into you, you didn’t know how well you’d take him like this —he was too big for the prone bone position.

“Fuck you’re tight-“

“You’re-I can’t take you like this-“ you whined under him, pussy throbbing to have him fill you so well like he always done, but struggling to take his cock as you were.

“Tch,” Barou shifted, leaning into his hand by your shoulder, lifting his hips slightly from you allowing you to shift your own position and slapping your ass cheek watching it jiggle, “-get that fat fuckin’ ass up, yeah like that -push up with your just hips, off your elbows head down.”

You moved whilst he instructed, your cheek pressing into the towel covering the sand and hips managing to push up a little from it.

Barou’s hand gripped your ass cheek and spread it watching the head of his dick ease into your hole, feeling that pop as the thick head pushed through the right ring.

“Yeahhh, s’fucking it. You gonna swallow this dick?”

You almost forgot Nagi was even there, moaning in response as Barou slowly started to sink into you, bullying that thick dick through your tight hole.

It was a struggle taking him like this, tears pricking at your eyes, teeth clenching and drool starting to spill from your mouth onto the towel.

You felt impossibly full, he was already rubbing against your g-spot that heat building in your pussy making you clench around him, hips wiggling against him to try encourage something.

“Pretty thing, you gonna answer?”

As if suddenly snapping back to reality and Nagi reminding you he was there, you shifted —or went to, Barou reacted to take your attention from Nagi and forcefully snapped his hips forward, driving the rest of his cock until his balls pressed against your thighs .

And you screamed.

Nagi’s hand shot out, shoving three fingers knuckle deep into your mouth to muffle your noise.

“You gotta be quiet pretty, thought you didn’t want anyone knowing?“

Your gummy walls distracted Barou to the point his mouth fell open slightly, dick flexing in you as his eyes unfocused into a daze, absentmindedly staring at Nagi’s fingers in your mouth, effectively gagging you —those little muffled noises, watching you struggle in this position to take him, how fucking tight you felt around his cock.

Fuck.

Fuuuuckkkk. He wasn’t gonna last two minutes unless he calmed himself down. His heart was thumping in his ribs, arousal shooting through his body and rushing to his cock, that pleasurable wave rushing through his lower stomach. He moved his hands to place just above his knees still bent at your sides as he sat on the back of your thighs.

His hips tilted forward enough to get himself balls deep into you, enough to push the fat and muscle of your ass up when his hips met yours.

You whimpered when he moved, testing your tolerance and seeing how uncomfortable you really were.

As much as he liked to push you actually hurting you in any way, emotionally or physically, was off the cards for Shouei. Sharing you like this was only to make a point, to show you and hassle man that he wasn’t just king on the pitch —he had a queen off it and she was his alone.

This was just a method that boosted his ego, just a way to do something outta spite.

He might feel guilt ping at him later but right now he was stopping himself from cumming and stuffing you with cum fifteen seconds after bullying his cock into you.

This was new —his ego and adrenaline mixing, seeing you get gagged by Nagi whilst full of your lovers cock in public?

Fuck, it mixed into some foreign feeling that was making him fucking feral. He never wanted to let loose on you like this, fighting the urge to pin you to the towel and fuck you until you were both raw. That racing heart elevated his breathing, starting to pant through his nose as he watched the side of your face.

You were so pretty, so fucking beautiful… so perfect for him.

Nagi felt your moaning vibrate against his fingers, as Barou started to move dragging himself from you slowly only to harshly punch his cock back in that tight squeeze. It made Nagi’s cock uncomfortably hard in his swim trunks, he could see you physically struggling in this position. He felt his dick leaking at the slit, throbbing and flexing at your attempt to take Barou like this.

Nagi wasn’t anything to shy away from, his length being his winner, but even he’d admit Barou Shouei was packing a cock. Not like it was a surprise seeing it again today, Barou strode around blue lock’s baths enough back in the day, but seeing it in action like this kinda made it look more daunting. But the white haired genius didn’t feel sorry for you, he just wished he could see more of your drooling hole swallowing it up.

Nagi pressed his finger tips to your tongue and your lips closed around his fingers, tongue rising to slide between his digits as his eyes watched yours glass over into some dazed, fucked dumb expression.

Barou’s hips hitting you with a slower pace but it was rough and consistent, punching his cock into you so deeply and hitting that sweet spot almost instantly.

Nagi watched your fingers dig into the towel, sinking into the sand under it and he fell to his knees, the sand was scratchy against his skin but it was easily forgotten when he pulled the top of his trunks, his long cock slapping his stomach.

He exhaled heavily at the relief, spare hand wrapping around his length as his lazy gaze turned half hooded, glassy on the scene of Barou’s thick cock disappearing into the dip between your ass cheeks and thighs. He could see your slick coating Barou’s dick, he’d rather have better view of your pussy —seeing it stretched out and drooling but this would do for now.

The skin slapping, the squelching made it easy to time his fist to fuck his cock into his hand.

Barou’s gaze from you didn’t falter, completely fixated on your face that he could see, drool starting to spill down the side of his mouth as he kept his slow, hard pace, his hips cushioned by your ass every time they met.

Nagi’s fingers moved around your tongue, spreading them to let you suck on them. Rolling his palm over the head of his dick smearing pre that leaked from the slit and his hips bucked up into his hand.

“Damn woman, you’re sucking my dick in, let it go. Can’t fuck you faster if you keep squeezing like that.”

That deep voice of your lover brought you some clarity, his order filtering through the daze his dick put you in.

You arched back more for him, arms stretched out in front of you like a cat, ass moving up into the air and you felt the restriction instantly free up.

“Risking breaking your back to get fucked good?” His hand slapped across your ass so harshly you jolted, hissing as the sting spread across your cheek.

Barou leaned over you, his hands sliding around to cup your neck and under your jaw locking his fingers together at the front bring you back up with him. Nagi’s fingers falling from your mouth, spit covered he used it to rub over his cock, now fisting his dick with both.

“S-Shit,” Nagi’s mouth fell open slightly, smacking his jaw as he watched your body arch beautifully. Back curving and ass back against Barou, he was using your neck as leverage to fuck you. His hands felt good, using two was better as he could overstimulate himself but rolling his palm across his head, “-lemme use her hand, I don’t wanna do it m’self.”

Nagi’s lazy drawl did nothing to waiver Barou, or his attention.

Instead your hands flew to Barou’s waist behind you for support to balance yourself and he pressed his lips to your temple, peppering kisses down the side to your ear, biting on the lobe before sucking, his thumbs rubbing circles on the base of your neck, fingers still locked on your throat. His hot breath fanning across his wet trail of kisses, his deep moan and rough voice right in your ear as goosebumps spread over your skin.

“Oi louse, touch her clit. Get her to cum.”

Nagi pouted, side eying Barou as he felt torn on his choices.. doing as Barou says only to watch you cum over his dick or finally get a feel and taste of you?

Was it worth it, would his ego-

“N-Nagi please,”

Yeah, it’s totally worth it. Nagi would just his own cards, use this to his advantage.

“Huh?”

Your eyes met his finally, a side look only but enough to make his dick throb in his hand. Your pretty glassy eyes, pink tinged across your cheeks and drool lining from one corner to your chin, loose strands of hair sticking to your forehead, lightly choked by your lover behind you, tits bouncing with each thrust from Barou as you panted in air.

His head tilted as if to act oblivious to your needs, playing his poker face at his usual master level.

“You need something pretty?”

You nodded and he let out an airy moan as he slowed his hand, finger tips grazing over his tip.

He knew his pre cum was smeared over his fingers as he reached forward to press against your clit clumsily, using it to aid the small circles he started to rub, feeling it stretched out from Barou bullying himself into you.

“Ah -here? Does it feel good?”

You released a breathy fuck yessss, hips jolting with each punch of Barou’s hips.

“M’close Bar-Nag-ngh. Oh fucck-“

Nagi’s posture changed, his slouched position straightened those grey, slated brown eyes darkening as his ego took advantage of the situation. Shifting to be in front of you, his long, thick thighs resting either side of Barou’s, one hand fisting his dick and the other rolling across your clit, he wanted you to watch him to see him.

And you did, eyes focusing on his long dick being stroked just under you, those little pink tinged cheeks of his and that darkening look in his eyes. Strands of white hair sticking to his face as beads of sweat started to dribble down his chest.

It was enough to tip you over, the surge suddenly hitting you off guard.

“I’m cumming - I’m cumming!”

“Yeah-“ Nagi didn’t let up, his finger picking up a pace over your hardened clit helping on sending you over the edge, “-I’ll help you cum, pretty, kings not enough huh?”

“You fucking- fuck-“ Barou’s attempt to sneer was cut off as your hips pushed back into his, your pussy clenching down on his dick swallowing him and you went so tight he couldn’t pull back.

“You’re dead,” the breathy gruffness carried threat, but those glazed red eyes showed Barou was enjoying it far more than he was willing to let off.

“I done what you asked, king. You wanted me to help her cum on you right? Don’t you know her well enough?”

Nagi could have sworn he seen red flash across his eyes, Barou’s gaze darkening more than he’d seen on the pitch.

“Thanks for warming her up, she’s drooling over my dick now. Time I show you how she likes to be fucked, how a king fucks.”

Barou released your neck, your body weight falling forward and your hands pressing into Nagi’s chest to catch yourself, your lips a mere breath from his, eyes meeting he fell back onto his elbows when Barou pushed your shoulders down.

It made you lower on Nagi, tits pressing up against his cock and your face into his six pack.

“Ass up, woman-“

Barou gripped the back of your neck pushing you down and forcing you to stay fixed, your ass arched back still in prone bone and Nagi was literally held under you, Barou using your body weight and his strength to keep him there.

It was fucking mean, cruel even, how he left you moaning and whining, drooling onto Nagi’s chest as Barou started to fuck you and it was nasty.

Your ass rippling with each time his hips met it, your tits bouncing against Nagi’s dick making his hips roll up in time with it. His head tilting back, white hair falling with him as his glassy eyes went half hooded, it felt good -too fucking good. He was leaking pre everywhere, cock flexing under the weight of your tits.

Barou used fucking you as a way to tit fuck Nagi and the lazy genius wasn’t sure how long he was gonna last.

“Ngh, you’re so deep Barou- gonna cum again-!”

“Yeah? Give it up then whore, s’feel you try push me out.”

Barou’s pace was brutal, you felt slick and cum running down your inner thighs still press together and legs between his. Keeping you in this prone bone position was keeping you stuffed in a way you felt full of dick.

He was fucking you so deep your eyes started to cross before rolling back into your skull, your nails raked down Nagi’s sides, teeth biting into his stomach to muffle the moan that was crawling up your throat.

His dick hit that soft spot one more time, building that burning heat and you released clear fluid. Your body convulsing under him as another orgasm tore through you.

“You’re fucking filthy. Messy cunts slobberin’ you cummin’? Say my fucking name-“

“Barou! Barou -fuck s’good, m’cummin don’t stop -m’cummin! Yes yes yes!” Your slurring only aided his bullying, thick, long cock flexing in you as he groaned listening to you babbling and clenching around him.

His hand moved from the back of your neck to pull you up by your hair, your tongue lolled out, drool spilled down your chin and Nagi drank the image in. Tits smushed up against his dick on his stomach, sweat beading down your collar bone and shimmering on your skin. You looked fucking stupid, dumb even, cock drunk of getting fucked like this in public.

And it was all happening on Nagi’s stomach.

“S-Shit pretty m’gonna cum- you look so fucking good-“

“Take a good look hassle man, s’how she gets fucked. I don’t need your shitty help, asking you was taking pity. She needs to be soaked before I can fuck her like this.”

Barou became white noise as Nagi focused on you, eyes switching between your fucked out expression and his dick disappearing between your tits as Barou kept a harsh pace.

His hips started to buck the best he could given the weight above him, causing tight friction over his cock, the end of it burning with arousal as he watched himself being brought over the edge.

“Ngh- make me cum pretty, please? I wanna cum now.”

Whatever Nagi said worked in bringing you back from dazing, you managed to tilt your head slightly and gather spit in your mouth, slowly releases it to dribble onto the head of his dick between being thrusted forward.

“Shit, s-shit pretty yeah -gonna m’cummin”

“Tch, looks like I’m doin’ all the fucking work.”

“Shut it, king- you’re boring me.”

Nagi suddenly let himself fall back to the sand, hands rising to press your tits tighter together and he started to rut his hips up into you. That sudden burst of energy to carry him over the edge, he kept thrusting even when he came, shooting hot white ropes out thickly covering his stomach and chest, his messy thrusting even making it hit his chin.

He was whiney when he came, but it still carried that lazy drawl. He glanced down as his hips started to stutter, head of his dick covered in cum and still drooling out the slit.

“Feel good Sei?”

He nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on his dick in your tits and listening to your honey voice finally gracing his ears with his name.

“You did so good, Sei, you taste so good.”

That caught his attention, half hooded grey eyes turned up to you, watching your tongue lapping up his cum that had landed on your chin and lips, you stuck it out showing the white melting on your tongue.

“You’re so pretty- s’not fair.”

You laughed lightly at his childish pout, swallowing whatever you could collect on your tongue left from him and he tasted fucking good.

“I like you-“

Only Nagi Seishiro could blurt out something like that without changing his lazy tone, without sounding like there was anything behind it and it being believed. Sei had this way of just saying things without any weight but the way his face would light up, his eyes would brighten that’s how you knew he meant something.

And he was looking at you like that.

The words were enough to stutter Barou behind you, he sneered at Nagi’s open admission pissed off he finally had the balls to fucking say it.

Barou knew longer than you did that the lazy genius was into you, how you’d not picked it up was beyond the egotistical striker. It wasn’t the first time someone took interest in you, it wouldn’t be the last, but Barou was sure he was the only one who actually got under his skin.

It actually made him paranoid. Barou knew he wasn’t easy to be around, normally he didn’t give a shit about it either —people adapting to him, end of, but you were different. The those words from Snuffy still haunted him; how he’d said how much would he love himself if he was no longer view as a genius.

It was hard to not let it drift into how you’d see him if you found someone more… tolerable.

That’s why he stormed here after reading the group chat —he seen Nagi change his mind because of you and you’d be wearing barely anything. It would be over his dead body before he allowed you to be left anywhere alone with Nagi.

The thought of the fucking sand everywhere made his skin crawl, knowing he’d be finding it around the house for days after this.

But his ego far outweighed his ocd in this case.

Sex with you to start used to be clean and fairly organised, because he couldn’t take the mess —now he didn’t think twice about it, he let himself get lost in it with you.

But this was filthy sex, sharing you like this, everyone sweating you’d cum so much it was dribbling down your legs and covering his thighs.

But it was fucking hot, it sent him feral but his drop from his high happened when Nagi just admitted he liked you.

Barou shifted, disliking the feeling of being left out like this —by you. He hadn’t faced you this whole time, letting Nagi see everything.

Barou never came until he was facing you, he couldn’t, seeing your dumb expression and that love for him always helped him over the edge.

So he shifted you, pulling his dick out for the first time and leaning back on his legs, ordering you to get up and turn around, legs too wobbly to stand you managed to turn your back to Nagi.

Barou rolled his eyes, muttering how weak you were as he grabbed your hips and lifted you up to him, keeping back on his legs he had you higher than him now.

“Arms around my neck-“

He softened now he could see you, now he had you back, his natural gruffness always there but it was different in a way only you knew. His arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady, other hand lining his dick back up with your swollen hole.

You hissed when he lowered you, burying your face into his hair and tightening your arms. His lips pressed to your collar bone as he eased you down, a deep sigh leaving him as your cunt swallowed him again.

“Need you lookin’ at me to cum, I’m nearly there.”

You nodded against him and he let you adjust, your hips wiggled and he shifted his hands, gripping your ass with them he lifted you.

“Look at me-“

Shakily you pulled back, hands gripping his shoulders and leaning back slightly to watch him looking up at you as he started to lift you up and down his cock. Veins popping on his arms and wrists, biceps bulging from using you as a weight.

Fuck he was huge, damn it all he said was so handsome, his cheeks were dusted pink from the heat and effort he was putting his body through. Covered in sweat and strands of loose hair sticking to his face, his hair looked hot like that —half up into a man bun the rest down.

“Feels good yeah? Taking this dick so well today, been a good girl for me huh?”

You nodded dumbly as he started building you to another orgasm you didn’t think you’d be able to have, but this soft praise and pace of his dick was different.

It made your heart swell for him, nerves buzzing and your lips tingling to press against his.

Christ, had he even kissed you today? You needed-

“Use your words, wanna - fuck- hear how dumb you fucking sound over this.”

“Feels g-good B-Barou,”

“S’Pussy is made for me, god dam’it you feel so fucking good-“

“Y’dick i-is f’m-me, y-yeah?”

“You sound dumb being fucked like this,”

He chuckled at your small pout, not answering your question like you had for him. His lips twitching into a small smirk, those red eyes filling with something only you knew. His thumbs rubbing circles around your skin and his hands squeezing your ass.

“Yeah, dicks made for you, gonna cum again? Feels like it,”

You nodded saying if he keeps talking like that you’re going to, so Barou did, lips brushing against yours he gave you soft praises mixed with degrading in his own unique way until you came around him again. It felt more numb compared to the previous but it rocked your body slowly… it felt right with how you felt for him at the moment.

“Gonna fill you up, you gonna take it?”

“Yeah inside- wan’it all Barou-“

He leaned forward into you, muffling against your skin, you just caught what he said and guilt surges through your veins on it all coming together, it made sense now. The arguing, his ridiculous sulking and lack of ability to leave you alone when Nagi was around. You should have seen it sooner and you felt like an idiot for not noticing, how could you though? Nagi did things in the same monotone manner, it wasn’t exactly easy to tell what the man really thought..

Say it, woman.

Muffled and breathy, but you heard him.

It didn’t take a genius to work out what he wanted nor why he was needing to hear it. Nagi was making him doubt, it was simple as that. You’d known Barou too long, he really was that over confident dude with an ego but there was also someone else buried under it.

Someone not so confident in areas he had no control over, someone who was simply a normal guy when off the pitch and behind closed doors.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to cup his face, pulling him back from you, pressing your forehead against his you started to roll your hips in time with him. Eyes meeting those beautiful red ones as you looked down at him.

“I love you, Barou Shouei.”

It was whispered but he heard it, arms wrapping around your waist he brought you down on his dick in short punches, barely leaving your pussy.

His moaning was music to your ears, hips stuttering and jolting as he came in you, shooting cum and filling you so much it started leaking past his dick to aid his sloppy thrusting.

His body shook, nails biting into your skin as he held onto you like a life line. Your lips pressed to his tongue running over his bottom lip as he moaned out, unable to respond as his orgasm hit him hard.

He slurred out words you couldn’t make out, between heavy pants as he finally exhaled his grip on you slacking as you both sat there panting, eyes locked and glassy.

Nagi was still on his back behind you both, arms spread either side and his legs stretched out either side of Barou.

A beached starfish, pouting at two lovers.

He turned his eyes from you both to look up to the blue sky, suddenly feeling so empty about the situation. He didn’t like it, he didn’t know what it was but he didn’t like it. It felt like losing, it reminded him of his parents just leaving him at home by himself when he was a teenager.

The only thing storming around his mind that was causing it -Barou really did like you huh?

He didn’t understand the depth of feelings all that much, he’d never really got himself involved because it was a hassle to use his spare time on things he didn’t wanna do.

He’s seen Barou riled up, it was hardly uncommon but he’d not really paid attention to how different he actually was around you —still a stupid king like he was in Blue Lock but it was softer, more lenient.

“No fair.” He mumbled, sighing heavily and closing his eyes to bask in that afterglow of orgasm, “m’tired.”

Barou had already tied up your bikini and stood you up with him, straightening out your clothes and keeping you stood on wobbly legs.

“Water, now, you’re disgusting.”

“I can’t walk,”

“I gotta do everything around here, such a weak ass.”

“I’d say I’m pretty tough putting up with that shit you just pulled.”

Red eyes rolled and he hauled you over his shoulder before turning to walk towards the sea with you moaning how he could have carried you better, it didn’t do you any favours when the man dropped you in the water.

“Shut up whining, don’t get yourself into shit if you’re not gonna deal with the consequences. Hurry up and wash off, I wanna get off this shitty beach and get back, it’s disgusting.”

Back at the little set up where Nagi started to doze off, on the other side of the barrier Isagi sat against it, knees bent up and elbows resting on them.

Dick rock hard in his swimming trunks and unable to stand because of it, he frowned at the sand, moving his toes between the grains in a way to try distract himself. Bachira was some distance away collecting shells for his sand castle.

Isagi had come over to try see if you guys wanted a round of volley ball but once again he got caught in the rough sex of you and Barou, only Nagi got to join in on the chaos.

“I need new friends,”

Isagi sighed out, looking up to the sky and resting his head against the barrier behind him.

“I’m not a pervert,” he pouted, as if trying to convince himself that these situations seemed to find him, only this time he didn’t have the distraction of pudding to take his mind off it.

Chigiri turning up was a god send, Bachira bounding over with the pretty red head following behind. Isagi trying to fight the heat crawling up his neck.

“Isagi, idiot, you’re supposed to be on the other side.”

“It’s cooler here,”

“Cooler than under the umbrellas?” Bachira tilted his head, yellow eyes scanning over Isagi suspiciously. Isagi’s eyes closing, jaw clenching hoping he’d didn’t look too damn close and see his hard on.

Chigiri wasted no time in walking around the corner into the set up, seeing Nagi still sprawled out on the sand under the umbrella, sorting to doze off.

“Nagi, you got sunscreen on your chest you’re supposed to rub it in. You’re that lazy?”

Isagi sputtered, coughing on his own spit behind the barrier.

“Huh?” Nagi’s eyes tiredly opened lifting his head down to look at the cum still on his chest sighing heavily he let his head fall back, “-ah, what a pain.”

“Oh? Barou’s here?” Chigiri turned to look at you kicking water up at the giant grump only for him to swipe your feet from under you causing you to fall back again in the water and he laughed.

Lips moving in some kind of insult most likely.

Red hair falling as he tilted his head watching you both, a weird chill running through his body watching Barou somewhat amused.

“I didn’t even know he could laugh, it’s kinda creepy.”

“Creepy king,” Nagi mumbled, hand reaching out to grab his phone, tilting it landscape and reopening his game “-I died, such a hassle.”

“Lovesick king more like,” Chigiri turned his attention to Nagi, eyes falling on the white splattered across his stomach and chest “-if you don’t rub that in you’re gonna tan like that.”

Nagi’s eyes looked down past his phone, to his chest, to Chigiri then to your beach bag.

Barou left his shirt in your bag didn’t he?

Sitting up Nagi reached for it, Chigiri not paying much attention as he started rubbing lotion into himself.

Grabbing Barou’s shirt he used that to clean the cum off his chest, actually folding it back up and placing it back in your bag.

Crawling back to his towel he lifted his phone, frowning with a pout.

“Stupid king,”

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