#and also that she is terrible at naming sex positions
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myotp-ruinedmylife · 2 months ago
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one of my favorite genres of character is "little girls are already completely terrifying. but what if..."
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taeyongdoyoung · 3 months ago
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daddy's home
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summary: boyfriendless, jobless and hopeless, you rush to take the first opportunity you find, which is a nanny position. but the kids are not the only ones you grow fond of... pairing: seungcheol x reader genre: fluff, smut, single dad x nanny AU warnings: kids (triggering, i know), age gap (unspecified), mentions of past cheating, abandonment issues, potential therapy, male masturbation, confessions, blowjob, kissing, eating out, protected sex (unbelievable), dirty talk, size kink, pet names (sweetheart, angel, darling, little girl), sir+daddy kink, unprotected sex (with baby-making goal), breeding kink, creampie, more kids (sorry im ovulating) author's note: this is loosely based on the sitcom the nanny in that there's a single dad with three kids but minus the dead wife trope cuz that's too depressing for my tastes word count: 4.3k
You are desperate. Your shitty boyfriend cheated on you, broke up with you and you also lost your job. So it’s been a couple of terrible weeks. Now, you would take pretty much any kind of job as long as it pays enough for you to afford food and the bills. ASAP.
Single dad looks for a live-in nanny for his three kids. Full-time with Sundays off. Contact this number for more details.
Okay, truth be told, you’ve never considered yourself as someone who is good with kids. But how hard can it be? Have you mentioned you’re desperate?
“Listen, Miss L/N,” Mr. Choi, your potential future employer starts. “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not just going to hire you. I’m looking for someone with experience.”
“Well, I have a bunch of nephews, if they turned out alright under my care, then I guess that counts for something,” you chuckle.
“That’s very nice but I’m talking about professional experience. Have you been a nanny before?”
“Technically, no, but how can I get experience if you won’t hire me?”
“Touché,” Mr. Choi laughs.
“How about a trial period? Let me spend some time with your kids under your supervision and prove myself capable.”
Mr. Choi nods reluctantly.
“Well, you’re in luck since my little goblins have driven away five nannies in the past month.”
Oh, dear. Five nannies…And here you were thinking this could be an easy job.
“So, what’s one more?” you chuckle nervously and Mr. Choi shakes your hand, agreeing to give you a chance.
You are excited when meeting his kids. The eldest daughter - Chaerry is 15, very elegant and polite. You think that you’ll have no problems with her and you’ll have lots to talk about. The middle child and only son - Dino is 10, extremely mischievous and loud. You’ll definitely have problems. Finally, the youngest daughter, Elsie, is 5, she’s such a cutie but leaves a mess of her toys everywhere she goes. It’s easy to trip if you’re not careful, but nothing you can’t handle.
The trial period goes by in a flash. Dino attempts to get on your nerves by pulling pranks like hiding fake spiders in your bag and spraying your outfit with ketchup, but you accept all that with an easygoing laugh. Elsie constantly asks you to play with her toys and you need an unlimited source of ideas to keep up with her wild imagination, but it feels more like fun than a job. Chaerry is quiet and doesn’t share much at the beginning but eventually tells you about this boy at school she has a crush on. So, you count that as a success.
“I must admit, Miss L/N, I had some worries at first but seeing how quickly my kids accepted you is remarkable,” Mr. Choi shares his observations with you at the end of the trial period.
“So, am I hired, then?” you beam with excitement.
“Absolutely, yes. The kids have taken a liking to you and changing nannies so often is probably not great for them, either.”
“So true. Kids need stability and I would be happy to stick around for as long as you’ll have me, Mr. Choi,” you are thrilled not only because you will have a bed to sleep, food to eat and money to spend, but because you are genuinely looking forward to spending more time with these little munchkins.
And spend time with them you do. You're not sure what exactly it is that makes the kids warm up to you, but whatever the reason, it's working.
With Chaerry, you talk about boys and high school drama and make-up. On one occasion, she tells you something that sincerely touches you.
“Thank you for being my best friend, Y/N. I know I shouldn't keep stuff from my dad, but he can be so overprotective sometimes it's difficult to talk about...well, going on dates with boys, mostly.”
“Aww, Chae, you can tell me anything. It'll be our little secret,” you give her a wink, followed by a hug.
You're not exactly sure what the correct response here is. But you'll make sure to maintain some kind of balance - both look after her safety so that Mr. Choi sleeps peacefully at night and not betray Chaerry's trust in you.
With Dino, after the initial phase of silly pranks passes, you notice that he's become more honest and calm.
“You won't leave us like our mom and all the other nannies did, will you?” he asks you one afternoon as you're watching TV together.
You haven't asked Mr. Choi what exactly happened with these kids' mother because frankly, it's none of your business, but something is telling you they're a lot more hurt than they let on.
“I'm not going anywhere, Dino,” you promise, though really, it's up to Mr. Choi to decide that.
“Good. It would really suck if you left.”
That's a lot, coming from the kid who damaged like half of your wardrobe with all kinds of sauces.
With Elsie, another strange situation takes place due to the fact that the kid has no filter.
“Let's play family!”
“Um, okay,” you agree without thinking much.
“This will be daddy,” Elsie points at a stuffed lion plushie and then grabs a tiger plushie, “And this is you, mommy!”
“Oh, honey. I'm not your mommy,” you try to explain as gently as possible.
“But can you be? Daddy says our mommy left and has a new family somewhere else.”
Okay, that's a lot to unpack here. Though you don't think it is your place, you'll need to have a conversation with Mr. Choi, because the kids obviously have some kind of unresolved trauma...
One evening, after the kids have gone to sleep, instead of going to your room, you wait in the living room for your employer to come back from work, so you can approach the subject as delicately as you can.
“Good evening, Miss L/N. Kids go to bed?” he greets you as he takes off his coat.
“Evening, Mr. Choi. Yes, they did. I was wondering if we can have a chat. It can be a sensitive topic, I'm sure, but for the sake of the kids, I think it's important.”
Mr. Choi nods and takes a seat next to you on the couch.
“About their mother...”
“I was wondering how long it'd take you to bring that up,” he chuckles bitterly. “Other nannies wanted me to spill the tea on day one.”
“Wow, seriously?”
“It's not like it's this big secret, I just prefer not to talk about it unless absolutely necessary. My ex-wife...cheated on me and got pregnant by another man, so we had a divorce and I kept the kids, because she said she wants to start anew with this other guy, and...well, the kids said this is their home and that they won't move. So, I suppose the judge took that under consideration.”
“My God. I had no idea.”
“You couldn't have known, considering I just said I don't enjoy revisiting those painful memories.”
“Yes, of course, I only meant that...I guess it explains some things. Forgive me for saying this, but I think the kids have some kind of abandonment issues. Elsie and Dino, in particular, they seem to have a fear that I'll leave just like...well, their mom and the other nannies.”
“And are you? Leaving, I mean.”
“Not if I can help it. Mr. Choi, your kids are very vibrant and precious to me. I genuinely love my job. But I'm worried that what happened with your ex-wife affected them more than they show. Maybe you should look into therapy?”
“I will definitely take that into consideration. Thank you for your candour, Miss L/N.”
“You're most welcome.”
“What about Chaerry?”
“What about her?”
“You said that Elsie and Dino express these abandonment issues. Does Chaerry not have them?”
“She probably does, but at the moment she's too busy thinking about boys.”
“Boys? At her tender age? I don't think so,” Mr. Choi immediately goes into ultra alpha protective dad mode and you honestly find it kind of funny. And hot.
“Oh, relax, Mr. Choi. It's just typical high school drama. There's nothing to be worried about.”
He shakes his head disapprovingly.
“I'm counting on you. Does it ever occur to you how quickly they grow up?”
“I suppose it's more difficult for you. I've only known them for a few months but I think I get what you mean.”
“Yeah...How strange, it feels like you've been part of this family forever.”
You try not to think too deeply about it. He...considers you part of this family. Elsie called you mommy. Dino doesn't want you to leave. And Chaerry talks to you about boys. A topic, which girls usually discuss with their mothers. Oh, sweet heavens. Maybe, this nanny gig is becoming more than a job...
One Monday Mr. Choi texts you not to come to work this Saturday, as the kids will be spending some time with their grandparents (aka Mr. Choi's parents). However, the moment you receive the text, you're too busy trying to escape from Dino who is chasing you with a water gun in the garden. So, you somehow forget to put it down in your calendar.
Saturday arrives and poor Mr. Choi thinks you'd be in your own apartment. Finally, some peace and quiet. His parents picked up the kids early in the morning to go to the park with them so he's all alone and free to do as he pleases.
But alas, you go down the stairs of Mr. Choi's enormous house and make your way to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the kids. However, it's too quiet. Hm, how strange. Maybe, they're not awake yet? You shrug as you pour some milk and cereal in a bowl.
Oh, you hear some noise from the living room. Is that the TV? Your curiosity gets the better of you and you enter it only to find Mr. Choi in a very compromising position. He is touching himself, watching very obscene things on the big screen!
You are on the verge of chastising your boss for doing something like that in the living room, where the kids could walk in any minute, when you remember. The kids...They're with their grandparents today. Which means that...Fuck, you're not supposed to be here. You should be at your own apartment instead of being witness to...your very sexy and very single employer taking care of his needs.
You are going to sneak back into the kitchen and wait for a more appropriate time to leave the house when you hear it. At first you think you're hallucinating but then you hear it twice. Your name.
“Y/N...please, let me-” Mr. Choi moans, his eyes closed, he is unaware of your presence.
However, he doesn't get to finish his sentence because you are so shocked that you drop the bowl of cereal, which shatters on the ground with a loud noise.
“Fuck, I'm so so sorry,” you murmur nervously as your boss finally notices you watching him.
His cheeks flushed, his lips pouting, he is the most adorable you've ever seen him. He hurries to tuck his cock back into his pants and turn off the TV.
“N-no, I'm sorry...Miss L/N, what are you doing here?”
Oh, so you're Miss L/N now...Very well, then.
“I apologize. It must have slipped my mind that the kids are with their grandparents today.”
“It must have,” Mr. Choi repeats coldly, obviously embarrassed by this situation.
You wonder if you should tell him what you heard. Would that be unprofessional? But then again, he is the one who said your name, so...what is professional anyway?
“Do you want me to leave?”
He sighs deeply.
“What's the point? You already saw me...fuck, I feel so humiliated.”
“Why would you feel humiliated? Am I so undesirable that my presence immediately turned you off?” you ask bluntly.
“That's not the case and you know it.”
“I'm not sure I know anything anymore,” you admit. “You...said my name. How is that supposed to make me feel?”
“You were never meant to hear that,” Mr. Choi hides his face behind his hands, the redness refusing to leave his complexion.
“But I did. So, what now?”
“Please, don't quit. I realize that what I did is unforgivable but...the kids care about you so much, it would devastate them to lose you.”
“I wasn't even thinking of quitting. But...are the kids the only ones who care about me?” you need to know.
“No...As it so happens, I care about you.”
“So, stop hiding from me,” you don't know where that boldness comes from as you grab his wrists and remove his hands, so you can look at his face. Fuck, he's so pretty.
“You're not...grossed out by me?” Mr. Choi blinks at you in surprise.
“Kinda flattered, actually,” you confess. “But I'd like it much better if you let me take care of your frustrations.”
“You would?” he is unable to believe his luck when you drop on your knees in front of him and take him out of his pants again, engulfing his cock with your pretty mouth. “Y/N...”
The way he says your name is enough to make you even more enthusiastic, sucking him deeper and bobbing your head to the best of your abilities. He grips your hair tightly and you make sure not a drop is spilled as you swallow his cum down your throat. You wipe off your lips and sit down next to him, unsure of what to do next.
“Mr. Choi...”
“Call me Cheol, please.”
“Cheol...may I kiss you?”
Seungcheol doesn't respond and instead kisses you passionately, grabbing your face with his hands. His tongue is exploring your mouth in ways you'd never imagined could bring so much pleasure and you can't resist the urge to sit in his lap. Somehow, against all reason, he's hard again, as you grind against him. Fuck. He's so hot and sweet and amazing you just want to make him happy. How anyone could cheat on this fine man is beyond you.
“Um...not to assume or anything, but do you have a condom?” you ask sheepishly.
“I do, yes,” Seungcheol goes to his coat and brings a package.
“I mean, don't get me wrong, I love kids, but I think we should be responsible considering this is our first time together and you already have three of your own,” you're probably talking too much but oh well. Better safe than sorry.
“No, I understand. You're totally right.”
“Will you fuck me?” you inquire.
“Here? On the couch?” Seungcheol is in disbelief.
“Well...you were touching yourself here, but I guess it's whatever. Your home, after all.”
He chuckles, suddenly embarrassed again.
“Come on, let's go to my room.”
Seungcheol offers you his hand and you follow him upstairs excitedly. Is this really happening? Are you seriously going to do this with your boss?
He lifts your chin up because he notices you're not meeting his eyes out of nervousness.
“Look at me,” he commands you easily and you're on the verge of falling apart and he hasn't even undressed you yet. The power this man holds over you... “We don't have to do this if you're not ready.”
“It's not that. I do want this. It's just...I don't remember if I told you but I was also cheated on. A little before I came to work here. And like, I haven't been intimate for a while, so I'm nervous. What if I mess something up?”
“Okay, first of all, give me that asshole's address, I just wanna talk. And second of all...darling, I haven't been intimate since way before my divorce took place. Trust me, I'm a lot more nervous than you right now.”
You shake your head.
“Whatever you do, I'm sure I'll find it like super hot.”
Seungcheol laughs and tilts his head, kissing you again.
“You're so cute,” he whispers against your mouth. “I can't wait to ruin you.”
And just like that, it's as if a switch is flipped. He pushes you onto the bed and leans above you menacingly, a devilish smirk painting his pretty face. Seungcheol pushes your dress up hurriedly, touching you all over.
“You really thought you could get away with it, huh? Walking around my house in those dresses of yours looking so sexy? Tempting me?”
“N-no, s-sir,” you murmur, not knowing where the title is coming from.
“God, I'm such a cliché. An old man unable to resist the gorgeous young nanny...”
“You're not old, sir,” you try to reassure him. You're not sure if he's just engaging in dirty talk or is actually having some insecurities. He's still young in your eyes. Whatever the case, you're there for him.
“Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I'm too old for ya...I have three kids. What do you have, hm?” Seungcheol speaks while caressing your pussy through your panties.
“I have you, sir,” you smile and palm his dick teasingly.
He sighs wistfully and buries his head between your folds, licking and teasing until you're a soaking mess for him.
“S-sir, p-please...C-cheol, don't stop,” you cry out helplessly.
It feels so good, too good. He holds you down, hands gripping your thighs as you cum against his tongue. He barely gives you any time to recover as he rolls up a condom on his cock. You stare at him hungrily, impatient to have him inside of you.
Seungcheol is like the drug everyone warned you about. Once you have him, you won't be able to quit.
“Are you ready?” he asks softly in sharp contrast with his previous behaviour.
“Please take me, Cheol,” you would beg if you had to.
And take you he does, entering you deeply with his big cock.
��Fuck, you're so tight, barely fitting me in,” he speaks, stroking your clit in circular motions with his thumb, while he fucks you harshly.
“It's okay, I won't break, sir,” you try to convince him.
“What if I want you to break, little girl?” Seungcheol inquires, his voice half-joking, half-serious, as he.
“Then, I'd be happy to serve you, daddy,” the word slips from your lips before you could think twice about it.
“Daddy, huh? You need daddy to make you cum?” you are grateful he plays along instead of making fun of you in this very vulnerable moment.
“Yes, daddy, please, I'll do anything for you,” you promise in a daze.
“Cum for me, sweet girl, let daddy take care of you,” his deep voice is enough to bring you to the edge.
“Fuuuck, daddy...Cheol,” you mumble repeatedly, as white appears before your eyes.
You're shaking in his arms but it feels like flying.
“I've got you, angel, daddy's right here,” Seungcheol comforts you, as he rides out his own high, spilling inside the condom. Then, taking it off and throwing it in the garbage bin, he hurries back to you.
You make grabby hands at him and he envelops you in a hug.
“I'm here, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead gently and you melt against his chest.
“Cheol...I think you just murdered me a little,” you laugh.
“Well, then, I better make sure I revive you, because I can't imagine my life without you.”
“Good. You ain't getting rid of me.”
“That sounds perfect because me and the kids would like you to stick around.”
“Oh God, the kids! What time are they coming back?”
“We've got time, don't worry, they should-”
“Daaaad, we're home!” you hear Dino's loud voice from downstairs.
“Fuck,” Cheol curses under his breath and the two of you hurry to make yourselves look somewhat presentable.
Once dressed and back in the living room, you can only hope that you're not too obvious about what went down. However, you can't stop yourself from glancing at Seungcheol and he's just as flustered as you.
“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Dino greets you as if it's completely normal for you to be there. As if you belong.
“How was your time with your grandparents?” you ask, trying to act casual.
“We had so much ice cream!” Elsie squeals excitedly.
“Grandma and Grandpa took us to the park,” Chaerry starts telling you about everything they did in great detail and you are glad that the shy girl you first met is becoming a confident young woman.
Elsie is asking for more ice cream but Seungcheol is explaining that it's lunch time. Dino is painting the table with mustard and honestly, that's so on brand for him...
It is funny where desperation brought you. You realize this is the happiest you've been in a while.
Later, when Seungcheol catches you alone after spending the afternoon with the kids, he asks:
“I know we kinda messed up the proper order of things, but...would you like to go on a date with me?”
“Oh! I'd love that, Cheol. Is it okay to still call you that?”
“Yeah, it's alright.”
“What about in front of the kids? I'm not sure to what point you'd like to mix professional with...personal life.”
“In front of the kids is okay, too,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, do you know what Elsie keeps asking me?”
“What?”
“When will you make Y/N my new mommy?”
“Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Elsie would say.”
“So, um, no pressure. But I think you're more than the nanny to me.”
“Well, I would certainly hope so. I didn't raise you, mister!”
Seungcheol can't miss the opportunity for a joke. He takes hold of your hand and places it on top of his...very hard dick.
“You raised him, though,” he whispers.
“Mr. Choi!” you hiss, scandalized. “I mean...Cheol.”
“Did you mean daddy?” Seungcheol teases you relentlessly.
“Stop it, you deviant!” you shake your head. “Fuck, you'll never let me live this down, will ya?”
“Do you kiss your boss with that mouth?” he smirks.
“Don't mind if I do,” you reply and bring your lips to his.
A year passes by quickly. You love every day of your life. Whether it'll be spending time with the kids, or going on fun dates with your boss turned boyfriend, or having mind-blowing sex with said specimen, you are truly happy with how things turned out for the best.
With one tiny thing missing.
“Cheol, can I ask you something?” you mumble one evening, as you are playing with his soft, fluffy hair.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Seungcheol turns towards you, giving you his fullest attention.
“Have you ever thought about having more kids?”
“Hmm, it hasn't crossed my mind. I already have three kids. But it depends. Is that something you're interested in?”
“Not till now. But if it's with you, I'd love to have a kid,” you confess shyly.
“Well, then, let's make you a mommy,” Seungcheol quickly makes it his mission and for the first time, doesn't use a condom.
“Yes, please, daddy, give me your cum,” you moan wantonly, as he fucks you deep.
“Take it like the good girl you are, I'll give you all I've got, fuck a baby in ya,” he grunts in your ear, sounding even more excited than you are.
“I love it, feel so full,” you whimper and can't stop kissing him. You can't believe this beautiful man is yours and wants to give you another present.
“That's right, sweetheart, I'll stuff you full of it,” he moans and releases himself inside you. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, as you reach your high.
Seungcheol gently pushes the cum that's spilling out of your pussy back inside and lifts your legs up.
“Do you think it'll stick?” you ask doubtfully.
“Can't hurt to try again until it does,” he shrugs, determined to succeed.
Nine months later, as you welcome the twins into the family, you realize you've never expected to achieve so much happiness.
“You really had to outdo yourself and give me not one but two babies,” you playfully push Seungcheol's shoulder.
“Is it too late now to say sorry?” he grins nervously.
“Don't be. I'm more than satisfied. But you'll have to give me a raise!”
“I'll give you something better than that,” Seungcheol promises and pulls a diamond ring out of his pocket.
“Oh my God,” you are in shock.
“Y/N...you've given me more than I could ever hope to deserve. You started off as a nanny but you became my three kids' best friend and now, the mother of two more angels. You became my closest person, my source of joy, my sweetheart. Knowing that I can come home to you is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?”
“Yes, of course, yes!” you say through your tears and kiss him, as he slides the ring on your finger.
“Can I call you mommy now?” Elsie peeks her adorable head behind the door, followed by Dino and Chaerry, who are all excited by the good news.
“Congratulations, Y/N!” Chaerry greets you with a hug and whispers: “Thanks for taking one for the team and making our lonely old man. happy.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Seungcheol complains loudly.
Dino jumps on the back of his dad with a loud squeal.
“You better treat her right, Dad!” the boy warns. “Or I'll ketchup your room!”
“Why do I feel like I'm the one being welcomed into the family?” Seungcheol bemoans his fate but he's never smiled wider.
“You'll get used to it,” you joke. “Come on, guys, meet your new brother and sister.”
“Hii, babies!” Elsie and Dino jump excitedly around the twins.
“Oh, they're so cute! Aren't they so cute, Dad?” Chaerry coos at the babies.
“They are, but it's too early for you to think about how cute babies are. Look at me...I already have five. Isn't it tragic?” Seungcheol keeps messing around.
“It could have been twelve or something,” you play along.
“I can't imagine,” Seungcheol cries out indignantly. But deep down, maybe he can.
The End
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amyispxnk · 1 month ago
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Mi Niña Hermosa
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Summary - Javier gets you pregnant, but then he gets scared, leaving you to raise your little girl all alone. One day, he sees you working at a brothel to try and make ends meet, and realises what he needs to do.
A/N: for this ask! i hope you like it pookie<3 also please excuse any bad spanish! i tried my best with it but it might not be 100% accurate.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Word count: 2k
Warnings: mentions of sex work and sex, violence, language, pregnancy/children, arguing, brief suicidal ideation, hurt+comfort, angst, men being men
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“Shh, shh, Carmen, mi amor. Está bien,” you plead with your baby daughter. She’s been up for the past hour because of yet another explosion a few blocks away. You think it was a car bomb this time, but does it really matter? All you know for sure is that Carmen is not going to let you sleep through the night because of it.
She’s almost 12 months old now, which means it's been almost 2 years since you last saw Javi. You hate yourself for it, but sometimes you look at your little girl and feel bitter. It’s not her fault, but she was the reason that Javi finally said goodbye to you.
You both knew it was a long time coming, but when you showed him a positive pregnancy test that night, you yelled at each other until your throats were raw and all your tears had been cried, before he slammed the door in your face and left you there. It was the final time you saw him.
Because of Carmen’s deadbeat father, you ended up in a brothel. It was one of the hardest decisions of your life, but you knew you had to do it for her.
“¡Muy bien chicas, salgan y ganen algo de dinero!” You want to jump out of this building, is your first thought. Crash all the way to the floor and forfeit this terrible life you’ve been ‘blessed with’. But you can’t. So you hold your head high, plaster on a smile, and walk out into the lobby of the brothel.
Your smile drops when you see him.
Of all the fucking brothels to go to, he chooses this one? The one you just so happened to start working at a week prior? That tenth-storey window looks even more tempting right now, especially when he locks eyes with you.
He’s with a man, blonde hair, blue eyes. You think that man’s name is Steve Murphy. Yes, you’ve seen them on the news. Who the fuck hasn’t? It just makes you even more frustrated. He left you and Carmen behind so that he could hunt down Pablo Escobar. He abandoned the two of you for fame.
Javi’s eyes dart back and forth between you and Steve, before he starts making his way towards you.
Hell to the fucking no. You turn on your heel and almost drag a man you noticed was ogling you for the past 5 minutes into one of the rooms, letting the curtains close behind you, separating you from Javi.
The time you share with that man is no different than any of the other men you’ve been with, all uncomfortable and gross for you, mind-blowingly good for him.
Sometimes you still think of Javi when you feel a man on top of you. He was the best you had, after all.
Outside, Javi curses loudly, drawing the eye of a few people and his partner.
“What the fuck was that, Javi? We’re here to question the girl, not chase after this random. Your dry spell that bad?” Steve laughs, clapping him on the back. Javi quickly shrugs him off, jaw clenched and gaze hollow.
“I know her.” He mutters. Yes, he knows you. He knows every part of you. Your smile, which he only saw on a rare occasion. Your eyes, which could always pierce him, see straight through his soul and see the worst parts of him. Your body, which you now sell because of him.
Steve is still yapping on about something or other whilst the storm inside of Javi swirls, growing and growing. You’re behind that curtain, selling your body. He knows why you’re doing it too, and it makes him feel even worse. He feels like he’s about to pass out as it all hits him at once.
What a piece of shit he’s been.
You don’t deserve this life. You deserve to be happy, supported and protected by someone, anyone who can help you. Not Javi though. He’s not fit to be a father. After what he’s seen, what he’s done, he could never care for something as precious as your baby.
But he knows what men are like. Knows that, somehow, he’s one of the better men in this country. It’s not a high bar to pass, this he knows too, but he figures that it must be why you have to work here to provide for yourself and his child. Fuck. He doesn’t even know the gender, the name. He wasn’t there for you at all, and he should have been.
It feels like there’s no going back though. How could he ever apologise enough or make it up to you? What he’s done is irreversible. Just from the way you reacted when you saw him now, it feels like it’ll be impossible to try to apologise to you.
He thinks of his father, his mother. How disappointed would they be? They probably already were, but with this? Abandoning a girl with a child he gave her?
They would surely disown him.
He feels like he’s been ungrateful too. After being raised by two loving and caring parents, how could he leave his own child without one? And with a life like this?
He runs a hand down his face, telling Steve to shut up. A loud shout from the man behind the curtain, surely finishing without giving you a moment of pleasure. He knows what you sound like when the sex is good. You barely made a peep in these past 5 minutes.
The man walks out, commenting on ‘how good that slut was’ as he walks past Javi and Steve, and it takes everything in him not to punch him square in the face there and then.
“I need to talk to her, Steve. 5 minutes.” Javi decides suddenly. He can’t let this go on.
“You better not be fucking on the job, Javi.”
He grunts in response, entering the room and letting the curtains slide closed behind him.
The entire world goes still, silent just for the two of you. Almost 2 years have gone by, and this is how you meet. The shame almost swallows him whole.
“I’m so sorry.” He says, before you can even register what’s happening, because he knows you’ll be ready to kick and scream to get him away from you when you do.
Unsurprisingly, your eyes well with tears, and your face twists into one of disgust.
“Why the fuck are you here.” You spit, holding your robe tighter around yourself.
“We were here for a job, and-”
“Do you think I actually care? You fucked off two years ago, I don’t want to see you back here now. Whatever it is you want, I don’t care.” You interrupt. Yes, this was going to be as difficult as he thought.
“Baby, please just-”
“Don’t fucking call me that! You don’t get to call me that!” You shout. He’s on borrowed time before somebody comes and escorts him out of here.
“Just listen to me, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He pleads, desperate for you to listen. He doesn’t know how to get his message across to you.
Your tears burst forth, fat droplets cascading down your skin as you turn away from him.
“Go away, Javier. I don’t want to see your face ever again. I see it in her everyday and it already haunts me enough.”
His baby is a girl.
“I’m here to talk about her. I… I want to help. I’m so sorry for leaving. I got scared. I thought- I wasn’t ready to take care of something as precious as a baby… I thought you would get hurt if it was discovered that a DEA agent like myself had a child.”
“Yeah. Agente de la DEA, Javier fucking Peña,” you scoff, “who abandoned his child in pursuit of fame. To catch a bad guy. Some fucking hero you think you are.”
He can’t get angry with you. He won’t. However wrong you are about what you just said. He won’t do it.
“I don’t want fame.” He grits out. How much of an asshole is he that you thought he would leave you for fame? “I’m trying to help this country. It was dangerous enough for me to see you regularly, you know this. If I was seen with a woman and a child, they wouldn’t waste a second trying to kill you both. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I care about you. Please understand, baby.” He begs you again, hand carefully reaching for your shoulder and turning you to face him. You’re still sniffling, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you refuse to meet his gaze.
“Mírame.” He whispers, cupping your jaw and tilting your head up so he can see your eyes.
“Please, I’m sorry.” He says. He’ll say it thousands, millions of times, it still won’t be enough, but he can see that you’re starting to understand.
“It’s been 2 years. I had to be pregnant and raise her all by myself. Not once did you check on me.”
“I was scared. I was being a coward, I know. I… I won’t be surprised if you tell me to leave again, but let me help pay for her. I don’t want you working here. It’s dangerous.” He murmurs, eyes shining with emotion as he looks into yours.
You shake your head, and he gets ready to argue about it, but you pull him closer, squeezing the air out of him and shaking with sobs again.
“I’ve needed you for so long. I- I don’t know how I managed this long. I need you, Javi.” You choke out, his heart shattering with every word until it’s laid out on the floor for you.
“I know. I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” He soothes, running his hand through your hair.
Over the next month, he helps you leave the brothel, gives you some money to get on your feet. You still live apart, despite his protests that you’d be safer living with him, you’re not ready yet.
Today you figure will be the decider of that. He’s going to meet Carmen.
You rub your eyes as the morning sun hits you, rousing you from your sleep. The clock reads 9:37. Just over 20 minutes until your daughter finally meets her father.
The 20 minutes are spent waking and feeding her, before a knock on the door stops you.
You exhale shakily and walk to the door, opening it slowly.
“Hola, Javi.” You say softly. He greets you, equally timid. You notice he’s holding a little teddy bear in his hands, almost making you laugh at how it looks being held by this big brooding man, but you just shake your head.
“Come and meet her.” You murmur, opening the door further so he can step inside.
There, messing around on your bed, is the most beautiful little girl he’s ever seen. He can definitely see his features on her face. The lips, the eyes. She got your nose, thankfully he thinks, and her hair is a unique blend of yours and Javi’s.
“She’s so beautiful.” He whispers, and you just nod, still unsure of your feelings for him right now.
“Carmen, baby, say hello.” You coo, picking her up and bringing her over to Javi. He’s quiet, scared, as always. But then she babbles at him, clapping her hands together and trying to reach for him. The teddy. He almost forgot about it.
“Hola pequeña, soy tu papá. ¿Quieres el peluche?” He says softly, waving it around a bit before handing it to her and letting her play. You and Javi talk for a bit while she sits on the bed, but then something happens. She gets tired, which is normal around 2pm, but instead of crawling to you, she goes to Javi. Carmen wraps her little fingers around one of his larger ones, curling up in his lap. The two of you still, and it shocks you to see tears appearing in his eyes as he strokes her hair, letting her sleep on him.
You decide to move in with him that night, realising that you don’t want him to be away from you and Carmen ever again.
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TYSM for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞
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onlyseokmins · 1 year ago
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size matters • l.c.
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Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬
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"I'm worried my dick's too big."
Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.
He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.
And no one wants that.
"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."
Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 
He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.
"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"
"You're drunk."
"So are you." 
Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.
"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."
You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."
"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."
"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."
Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 
"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 
You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 
He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."
"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."
"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."
"You know I'm not!"
"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."
Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"
"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."
Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.
Or maybe that's just the alcohol.
Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 
"Are you flaccid right now?"
"What's it to you?"
"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."
He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."
"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 
"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.
"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"
Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 
"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"
"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."
"Then you should try harder."
He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 
Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 
Like always.
Except it's not.
All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 
You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.
"Am I boring you, baby?"
"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"
He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"
"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."
"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."
"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."
"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"
Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."
"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"
The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.
You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"
"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 
That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.
"Ah, well, so do I!" 
Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.
Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 
While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 
"I wanna go home."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just feel like leaving."
He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."
"Ooh… are you jealous?"
"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."
"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."
His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.
Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 
Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.
"You want to go to my place?"
"Yeah."
He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"
"Sure. Maybe condoms too."
"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"
Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 
There's no one there, of course.
"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."
"You do? Good."
"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"
Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"
"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"
"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."
His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"
"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"
One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."
"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."
He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"
"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"
"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 
Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 
"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."
Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 
But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 
He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.
"You've been thinking about me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your pussy has too?"
"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."
"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"
And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.
Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.
He needs to get home fast. Now.
The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.
"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."
The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 
"No. You have to wait."
"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."
"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"
You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 
He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.
"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."
His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 
"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.
"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."
"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."
Neither one of you care. 
In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 
Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 
"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."
Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 
Oh, you cannot wait.
He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!
Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.
Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 
"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 
Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.
"C'mon bestie, please."
"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."
"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"
Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 
"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"
His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 
"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.
And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.
The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 
Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.
"You can't make me cum."
"What? Why? Need to stretch — "
"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"
"God, yes."
You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."
Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.
It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.
He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.
Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.
There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 
It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.
And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 
The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 
Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.
You're on the brink of climaxing.
And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.
Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.
He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 
"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.
"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."
"Can't believe you didn't rip them."
"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.
"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"
"Huh?"
It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."
With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.
"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."
"You love it."
"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."
You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.
"Someone's full of surprises."
"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."
Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "
"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 
You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.
"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.
His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.
It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.
"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.
You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.
It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 
Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.
He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.
It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.
"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."
"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"
"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"
You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 
"Mhm… yeah."
"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"
"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"
"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"
"Mhmph! More… more!"
A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 
Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.
He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.
Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.
"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"
Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.
"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."
"All… all for you!"
Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"
Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.
That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 
His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.
"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."
You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."
"That's not how it works."
Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 
You're honestly a little offended. 
He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 
Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 
You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 
"Good thing I'm flexible." 
"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 
"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 
You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 
"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."
What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 
To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 
Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 
But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.
Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 
It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"
And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.
White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 
Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.
"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."
He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.
Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 
Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.
It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.
"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.
He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 
Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.
There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."
"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."
"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"
"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."
"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."
"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."
It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.
"So, you're mine now too?"
"If that's okay with you."
And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.
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onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©
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wheneverfeasible · 3 months ago
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🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠
Thanks for the tag @stervrucht!
So I was literally just thinking about Sugar Daddy Steddie with rockstar Eddie, coincidentally enough…
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
Okay so get this. Eddie Munson is some fucking metal legend. Corroded Coffin made it big, right? Right out of high school some scout saw them playing and swooped them up immediately, and before you knew it they were household names. Even people who don’t listen to metal know who they are.
And look, Steve Harrington? Metal is so not his scene. That much is obvious with his striped polos and overly large noise cancelling headphones, but he’s there in the crowd, front row, with a pack of teenagers scampering about. Obviously not his own, but he’s watching them, a glorified babysitter. He looks kind of bitchy, but the occasional fond smile settles over his lips as he takes in the lot who are having the time of their lives.
They all have backstage passes and are there for Dustin’s birthday because Corroded Coffin is his all-time favorite band and he’s always wanted to meet the guy he idol worships. They go backstage, meet the band, and it’s great. Fantastic even. The band is a lot more down to earth than Steve had been expecting, and there’s no naked ladies or drugs in obvious places, so he decides maybe they aren’t too terrible.
Except the frontman keeps hitting on Steve.
At first it was startling, because Steve isn’t some cheap whore (no hate to actual cheap whores, Steve is 100% sex work positive, but he’s there as a babysitter), but Eddie doesn’t spend the whole time hitting on Steve. He actually spends the majority of it talking to Dustin and the others, and he gives way more free shit to the teens than was agreed upon with the backstage passes, and he and the rest of the band sign anything and everything the teens want.
(Eddie also offers to sign Steve’s tits, which gets him a flat glare.)
And that should be it when they leave. Except Eddie slips Steve his number. For when he’s not acting a babysitter.
And that’s the thing. When Steve isn’t in babysitter mode? Fuck. Eddie Munson could get it.
Steve might not be a whore, but he is a bit of a slut. And Eddie had been far more charming that he let it be revealed, not least of which being because of how he handled Dustin and the others, especially sweet El. He’d absolutely beamed when she called his outfit “bitchin’” and there was no artifice there.
Now, Steve wasn’t some groupie, but…he wasn’t opposed to hooking up with a hot rockstar in a band he couldn’t really care about if it got him some good dick.
And good dick he gets. But first, Eddie actually takes him out, taking him out to a really nice and fancy restaurant, despite Steve not dressing for the occasion expecting this to be a hit-it-and-quit-it situation, but Eddie pays off the staff to look the other way. After all, Eddie’s not really dressed all that appropriately either.
Then Eddie takes him for an honest-to-god moonlit carriage ride around the park, complete with flowers and cheesy romantic music. Steve would like to say he was unaffected, but it really did it for him. He was a romantic sap but he was used to being the one always having to be the giver, never the receiver. It was…nice. And sweet, because god, Eddie Munson was secretly a sweetheart when you got him alone.
And then, after the sweet and romantic date, the two of them have the most disrespectful sex of Steve’s life.
He can’t get enough of it.
He knows what this is, however. He knows someone like Eddie Munson probably does this every tour, picking up some random person and wining and dining them and then teaching them things that would make the Kama Sutra blush.
Except, when he sneaks out Eddie’s room in the hotel penthouse in the morning, bruised and rumpled in all the right ways, the rest of the band lounging in the sitting room are as surprised to see him as he is to see them. Because, it turns out, apparently Eddie doesn’t do this. At least not to the extent he showed Steve.
No one was ever asked to stay until morning, at least.
But Steve has to go home, and he thinks that’s it. But then Eddie comes out and asks for a second date when he tries to leave. Offers more backstage passes to the next show for the kids, and Steve is hesitant to say yes, and that’s when Eddie hits him with another surprise.
Eddie says that he doesn’t care that Steve is a babysitter or a nanny or whatever, he isn’t doing this out of pity over Steve’s financial issues, which he accompanies with a slight tug at the worn and slightly frayed edges of Steve’s polo. He says that he just wants to treat Steve right because Steve deserves it. That he wants to buy him pretty things and shower him with whatever he wants. Wants to keep having the sweetest dates with the most disrespectful sex with him.
And Steve…well. Steve is stumped.
Sure, he’s wearing old clothes, but he thought he was just having a dick appointment. And yeah, he was a babysitter, but the teens were actually weirdly his friends despite the age differences, not to mention many were the younger siblings of his other, more age appropriate friends. And yeah, Steve had blushed when Eddie mentioned going to a fancy restaurant and said he didn’t have the money for it, but that’s because he left his wallet behind because, as previously stated, he’d thought this was just a dick appointment.
But you see, Steve Harrington was the CEO of a major international corporation that had been in the Harrington family for generations who, once Steve took the helm from his father, had also recently begun work in far more charitable organizations and activities. His company was, in fact, one of the major donors that supported the arena in which Corroded Coffin had just played in last night. The company’s logo, a small crown with the company’s initials, was printed on all the tickets and on the backstage passes.
How else would Steve have been able to afford over half a dozen of them if he was living on just a babysitter’s salary.
Yet, here was Eddie, offering to be his…sugar daddy?
Steve would have laughed, was tempted to even, but Eddie looked so genuine and earnest and like truly all he wanted was to spend more time with Steve.
And really. Steve was so used to having to be the one to provide luxuries for his dates, to be the one in charge, to always have to give give give. Maybe, just maybe, he could play along with Eddie’s utter misunderstanding and take just a little bit. He’d pay Eddie back when the rockstar got bored of him and moved on, so really, what was the harm?
So yeah, Steve just smiles and says Okay, Daddy, and accepts the goddamn gifts Eddie had apparently already bought for him even before their date, and he lets himself have his fun.
After all, it’s not like it’s gonna turn into anything long lasting, right? Nothing serious, right? And there’s absolutely no way that they could ever fall in love…
…right?
Aaaaand yeah. Other things that I envision could pop up in the story:
Robin is his best friend and works for him with international clients due to being polylingual. She discovers what is going on and calls him a dingus. She also wants all the gossip.
Dustin finds a diamond studded collar in his bedroom that says “Babygirl” and asks if Steve is getting a dog. He was looking for something to wear to impress a date and Steve forgot Eddie’s latest gift was still on his bed.
Steve is in full sugar baby mode when they accidentally run into one of Steve’s business associates and/or they are at one of the venue locations Steve secretly owns and he’s trying desperately to hide anything that might have his name or face on it.
In the end, Steve starts buying Eddie expensive gifts too which freaks Eddie out because he doesn’t want Steve to waste what little money he has on him. Or so he thinks.
Some big angsty misunderstandings and the truth finally being revealed. It ends with them agreeing to spoil each other, but only Steve gets to be called “Babygirl” and Eddie remains “Daddy”. Everyone is sick of how in love they are.
-
Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus
No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @viviseawrites @steddieassheg0es @stevesbipanic (if you’ve previously been tagged, just ignore me!)
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residenthughes · 10 months ago
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opera house - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x afab reader
word count: 2.5k
tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)
summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.
notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3
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As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.
You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.
Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.
You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”
“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”
A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.
“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”
A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”
You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”
The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence. 
Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”
A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.
It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”
“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”
Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.
“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”
Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”
“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.
Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”
The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.
“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”
Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.
“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”
You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”
He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.
You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”
You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair. 
“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing. 
“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”
“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”
“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.” 
You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation. 
“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”
Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”
“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”
Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.
Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.
Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”
He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”
“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.
“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”
It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.
“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”
To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.
“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”
That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds. 
“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”
You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you. 
“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”
“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”
Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan. 
“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”
You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.
Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs. 
Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.
“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”
And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”
Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”
You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.” 
He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars. 
“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”
An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.
“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”
“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.
“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.” 
The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup. 
He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”
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ultravioletrayz · 11 months ago
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So my idea for degradation fic involving Miguel would be something like this- (also please keep an open mind this idea is kinda out there)
So lets say Miguel is your mentor and you are so eager to please and do good work. You have always been kinda good at everything so people complementing you and telling you how great you are is nothing new. But Miguel is different, he's hard to please. So when you do something right he's not complementing you and that is odd for you, and when you mess something up well...he's quick to criticize you. this stirs something within you.
So you keep trying to please him and he's not into it he just keeps bringing you down and reader is starting to like it, sometimes wanting messing up. So lets say reader makes a big mistake on a mission and Miguel is ready to yell and degradant them but reader is getting turned on by it and Miguel noted it so he starts to degradant them more and it starts getting into NSFW territory. while he's getting into it he's just saying filth to you. "your so such a needy slut" "look at you getting turned on while I bully you, pathetic" "you want to be a good girl? you want me to praise you? too bad...now open..." *spits in readers mouth*
then if you can end it off where reader in passed out and thats when he's sweet in the aftercare when she dosn't know. he will open up to her one day just not yet.
Not even gonna lie, if Miguel was a meanie towards me i wouldn’t know whether to cry or cum.
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Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!spiderperson!reader
Warnings: 18+, degrading kink, rough sex, fingering, orgasm denial/mild edging, getting bent over miguel’s desk, marking, clit slapping (like, once), pull-out method, absolutely terrible and rushed ending, miguel being mean, horny, and ultimately just socially-awkward
Summary: you strive for perfection in all areas… until the opportunity arises where doing the opposite will give you access to the perfection inside your mean boss’s boxers.
A/N: before anyone tries to come for me for making miguel seem like an asshole in this fic, ik that this isn’t entirely true to miguel’s character. however, i’m horny and dgaf. enjoy!!
Word Count: 3K (unedited)
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For as long as you could remember, people would refer to you as ‘gifted’. It was as though everything you attempted to achieve was accomplished with ease. In your world, on the days when the Society was a distant memory and you were given the opportunity to act as a true Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Person, you practically lived in a bubble of praise. Surprisingly, the media worshipped you, recognising you as the hero you are. Locals chanted your name, asked for autographs, and even demanded you accept gifts and tokens of appreciation every time you were spotted in your costume on the streets. 
Although you forced yourself to stay humble within the public eye, you would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that the compliments and special treatment didn’t make you feel good, didn’t push you to be a better superhero for the sake of the citizens who practically worship the ground you walk on.
Which is the primary reason why having to tend to work and assignments at the Spider Society caused you so much misery. When you were first recruited, a few other Spider-People had mentioned how short-tempered and cold the boss is, but you had expected to win him over with your natural, over-achieving flare. That goal was quickly crushed when you met Miguel O’Hara for the first time. He had immediately lectured you on certain habits he had observed from footage of you fighting crime at home, giving you strict instructions on how to be better at your job. From then on, you’ve tried your best to view his constant criticism as a positive and value his (poor) attempts at mentoring you. 
It didn’t take long for you to realise that he wasn’t really trying to help you, and he was just a grumpy asshole as everyone had warned and wanted you to follow orders rather than going out and trying to prove yourself constantly. Lately, you’ve been slipping up, making mistakes. You had come to terms with the fact that Miguel wasn’t interested in showing you any appreciation or praise for your hard work, and it had begun to affect your performance on missions, bringing you to this point. 
“What the hell was that?” Miguel snarls at you, his platform lowering as he slams his fist on his desk and glares at you, his sharp red eyes burning holes in your pretty, sad little face. You had almost let an anomaly get away, blinded by your insecurities and Miguel’s lack of interest in your skills, you would have destroyed an entire universe if it weren’t for the backup Miguel had sent you.
“Miguel, let me explain-” You start, being cut off by an angry huff from Miguel.
“I’m sick of the excuses. I don’t care about how you handle shit in your own dimension. When you come here and are trusted to keep the multiverse stable, I expect you to do as you’re told. Unless the small task of containing the minor anomalies I assign you is too much to handle?” Miguel scoffs, shaking his head as he looks you up and down.
The look of disappointment on his tan, chiselled face would usually have you on the verge of tears, but as you’ve grown accustomed to his harsh beratement, it’s begun to have a very different effect on you. You can just imagine him, brushed back curls dishevelled and clinging messily to his face as he pounds into your needy pussy, whispering absolute filth into your ear as he uses you to get off. The thought has you practically soaking through your Spider-Suit, causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together as you force yourself to keep your gaze from dropping to Miguel’s broad, muscular physique. As his glare intensifies and he rolls his eyes at your subtle movements, you know he’s got you figured out.
Miguel’s heightened senses pick up on your current state of arousal, the scent of your slick making him dizzy as it clouds his mind. He had always beaten himself up about how harsh he could be towards you, reflecting on his cruelty to such a pretty girl with shame and regret. But finding out that you liked being treated so poorly by him, it has him going fucking crazy.
“Por el amor de Dios,” (for fuck’s sake) Miguel hisses, taking a step towards you, looming over your smaller form with a judgemental scowl plastered on his face. “You’re pathetic. Risking everything we work for here, just so that you can imagine me yelling at you while you finger-fuck yourself at night?”
Your eyes widen, his words reigning true as they hang in the air of the room. Yet, you make a miserable attempt at denying the accusation by shaking your head softly and taking a step back. Miguel only moves closer to you, intimidating you with his mere presence as his scowl curls into a cruel smirk.
“No me mientas, hermosa,” (don’t lie to me, beautiful) He whispers, one of his large, calloused hands grabbing your face and pulling you back towards him, fingers squeezing your cheeks as his breath hits your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine. “You’re usually so eager to please me. Did you think I was stupid enough not to notice when you started messing things up?”
“Miguel-�� You whine, voice muffled due to the way he squishes your cheeks together, making your pretty lips jut out in a sad little pout.
“It always annoyed me how bubbly and determined you are,” He admits bluntly, sharp red eyes scanning your face, before trailing down to watch the way your thighs rub together in a pitiful attempt to alleviate the arousal coursing through you due to his relentless disparagement. “But I didn’t think you’d resort to acting like a dirty whore just because I’m not impressed by the ‘Friendly Neighbourhood’ act.”
His free hand trails down your body, fingers gliding between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and stopping just above the crotch of your Spider-Suit. He chuckles lowly as he watches the way you squirm in his grasp, hips attempting to roll against his hand for any kind of friction. 
If we had to be completely honest, he actually enjoyed watching you work. You really are gifted, always applying yourself to missions. When he heard you would be handling an anomaly for him, he would feel relieved, even proud. But he knew that any compliments he gave you would just be lost in the sea of praise you already received. So, in order to set himself apart, he decided he was going to be a complete dickhead to you. He figured bullying you would motivate you to seek him out in a crowd, make you strive to impress him and show off to him, and ultimately bring the two of you closer. It was shameful, how awful he is at making first impressions, that he’d rather hurt a beautiful young girl’s feelings as opposed to being a reliable boss and potential friend. But now knowing that he hadn’t completely ruined his chances at getting closer to you, he was certainly going to take full advantage of this new development.
“Now look at you, you don’t wanna be a good girl for me anymore, nena?” Miguel teases, grinning as he sees the need and innocence in your eyes as he releases your face with a harsh push. “You wanna be a dumb little slut for your fucking boss, instead?”
You want to say no, want to deny his harsh words and hopefully gain back some of the dignity he was stripping away from you, but your body yearns for Miguel’s touch, his degradation fueling your most carnal desires, and you nod your head frantically. Miguel sighs at your eagerness, tapping your cheek firmly as he wraps a hand around your throat, not applying any pressure but allowing his thumb to lazily stroke the side of your neck.
He leans in to bite your bottom lip hard, causing you to cry out in pain and open your mouth. He takes the opportunity and slams his plump lips against yours, tongue intertwining around yours inside your warm mouth as he groans into the sloppy, demanding kiss. His hand drops from your throat as his bulging arms tuck themselves underneath the fat of your ass and he lifts you up, carrying you over to his platform and dumping you on top of his desk, lips never leaving yours. Miguel’s razor-sharp claws protrude from his fingertips, slicing through the material of your Spider-Suit and prompting a startled yelp from you as he rips your clothes right off your body. 
The matching set you have on underneath has his dick thrumming in his suit, and he almost loses sight of his initial plan in a desperate temptation to worship your gorgeous body and shower you with the praise that he knows you deserve. But he wants to be different, wants to hold a special place in your heart, and this was the only way to do it. 
“You wore these for me, didn’t you?” He hisses flippantly against your lips, throwing the rags of your once cute little Spider-Suit across his office, before tearing your bra open from the middle with just the strength of his grip, claws retracting back into the pads of his fingers. “Puta de mierda.” (fucking whore)
Miguel flips your body over on his desk with ease, your face now pressed against the cold, hard material as Miguel leaves a trail of deep bite marks and hickeys across the exposed skin of your back, making his way down to your clothed pussy at an agonising pace, your ass wiggling enticingly to try and convince Miguel to give you what you want, what you need from him. Miguel peels your soaked panties off of you, tossing them onto his desk chair for later, as his fingers run up and down your already dripping folds, causing him to chuckle to himself.
“I never would’ve pegged you for a girl who gets off on this kind of thing,” Miguel whispers as his fingers explore your wetness, his tone much softer as his sharp, red eyes admire the way your body looks bent over his desk. He snaps himself out of his trance, opting to tap on your clit harshly with his fingers to bring himself back to a place of lust and callousness, and to tease you further.
Miguel dips his two fingers into your cunt, making you moan and cry out, your hands gripping the edge of Miguel’s desk as you push your hips back to fuck yourself on his thick fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling them to hit that sweet, gummy spot inside of you each time they delve deeper into your pussy. Miguel groans at the way you clench around his fingers as he thrusts them into you, his knuckles drenched in your arousal as he watches the way you grind against his hand when his thumb rubs your pulsing clit to stimulate you further. 
You’re completely falling apart at his touch, the way his fingers deliciously stretch your hole making you see stars as you approach your climax. Just as you’re about to cum, Miguel pulls his fingers out of your cunt and gives your clit a harsh slap, making you whine as your entrance twitches at the sudden loss.
“Sluts don’t get to cum ‘til I say so, muñeca.” Miguel taunts, disabling his nano-tech suit, the holographic material dissolving and revealing his tall, tan, muscular, the mere feeling of him towering over you from behind making you moan against his desk. He holds his fat, stiff cock in one hand, dragging it between your folds and gathering the slick trickling down your thighs as he scoffs at the way you tremble and spasm at his touch. “Especially sluts like you.”
Miguel plunges his dick into your pussy aggressively, bottoming out in one harsh slam of his hips against your ass and causing you to scream, his hand coming down to cover your mouth and muffle your echoing moans as he delivers fast, disciplining thrusts into the depths of your core, tip kissing your cervix with each frenzied movement. His cock rams into you mercilessly as he digs one hand into the plush of your waist while the other holds your head up, the two fingers he was using to play with your pussy forcefully entering your mouth. On instinct, you wrap your lips around them and suck the remnants of your essence off of his skin, moaning and choking on his thick digits as Miguel’s length stretches you to the brink of what is possible for your tight little pussy to handle and his balls slap against your puffy clit.
“Pussy was fucking made for me,” He grunts, delivering a smack to your juicy ass, the sting making you whine against his fingers, saliva dribbling down your chin and saturating the desk below your face. “Squeezing me so tight. It’s a shame that this pretty cunt can’t make up for how shit you are at your job. Maybe I won’t bother assigning you missions anymore? I’ll just call you in when I need a hole to fuck.” 
Wow. He really did think of you as useless. You had always considered yourself to be good at what you do. At home, you were a hero. Here, bent over your boss’s desk and being fucked so mercilessly, you felt like nothing but a whore. You cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you moan and squeal with each thrust of Miguel’s thick cock into your hungry pussy. Despite your underlying feelings of shame for your recent failures as an employee, being fucked like a slut by the very man you’ve been fantasising about since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting was able to snap you out of your sadness and overwhelm you with passion.
Hearing you sob around his fingers fills Miguel with a sharp pang of guilt, but he brushes it off and pounds into you harder to remind himself of his end goal, breaking you down until he can make you his. If you really were as into his cruelty as you seemed, he was going to give you exactly what you so desperately needed.
“Mig-Miguel, I’m- fuck! I’m so close.” You whine, his fingers in your mouth making your voice come out as a spluttering cry. 
Miguel pulls his soaked fingers out of your mouth and holds your waist with both hands, fucking his cock impossibly deeper inside of you as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your desperate, breathy sounds of pleasure fill the dark office.
“Beg for it, amor.” He whispers against your ear, his chest pressed flush against your back as he nibbles at the smooth skin of your neck as his dick moves in and out of you at a brutal pace, the veins of his thick length caressing the warm walls of your pussy as he smushes his tip against your sweet spot with each thrust.
“Please, Miguel! I promise I’ll do better. I won’t make another mistake again, I’m gonna be so good, I swear! Better than I’ve ever been!” Your breathless pleas make Miguel feel a conflicting surge of both guilt and power. He watches the way your back arches and your thighs shake as you try so so hard not to cum, to be a good girl for him and follow his orders. At the end of the day, you just wanted him to like you, to see how good of a hero you are, and he knew that. Which is why he’s finding it so fun to toy with you like this.
“Shh, I know. I’ll let you cum, sweetheart.” Miguel coos, tugging on your hair so that he can reach your face and plant a kiss on your tear-stained cheek, his soft, long-awaited act of reassurance contrasting the lewd sounds of squelching as he fucks you with mind-numbing intensity. 
He reflects on his words as he listens to the way his unexpected words make you cry and whimper, and part of him regrets the way he approached your relationship, wishing he had just been honest with you and praised your efforts from the start, rather than being cruel and bending you over his desk to fuck you so harshly. But the way you tighten and pulse around his sensitive dick brings him back to the present, and he gives your waist an encouraging squeeze.
The tiny action of consolation has you spiralling, your vision going spotty as you squirt around Miguel’s fat cock, squeals and moans leaving your glistening lips as your whole body twitches with the all-consuming sensation of your release. Watching as you come undone, Miguel feels himself rapidly approaching his own release. He curses and pulls out of your sopping cunt, watching the way his leaky tip shines with your juices. It sends Miguel over the edge. He lets out a sharp whimper as he cums all over your round ass and your spine, thick globs of his climax staining your sweaty skin and making you exhale shakily. 
The sex and your crying make you pass out on the desk, and Miguel quickly covers you up and carries you to his quarters, laying you down in his bed and tucking you in. He whispers a quick apology to you, letting his cruel persona disappear and showing you how much he actually values you as a colleague and person when he thinks you’re asleep, but you hear everything. 
Maybe you didn’t really need to be praised by Miguel to know that you were good enough. And maybe he didn’t need to be so afraid of showing you that appreciation. For now, though, the angry sex would be a pleasant memory for both of you, in an odd way.
“Get some rest, cariño. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”
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I FINALLY FINISHED IT OMG. Thank you all for being so patient 💜💜
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heybatterbats · 5 months ago
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I’ve been seeing entirely too many posts about how ace-spec people aren’t really LGBTQ+ and don’t belong at Pride. And I got mad about it. So…*aces your Batfamily*
Yes, all of them. Every last one is now ace-spec in some way. They even named their dog Ace.
Bruce is sex-neutral biromantic demisexual, and came out by accident at age 24 to a random reporter who was not expecting it. This sparked a social media storm that was only halted by the much bigger social media storm of Bruce adopting Dick.
The Batman has been asked his sexuality before. Bruce replied- perfectly straight faced- that the Batman is an asexually reproductive entity and creates its Robins via mitosis. A third of Gotham, most of Metropolis, and several members of the Justice League still believe this.
Dick is sex-repulsed biromantic asexual, and is of the type to make the dirtiest jokes you’ve ever heard because sex is a joke to him. Came out in the form of an acrobatics performance he did at a pride parade, wearing a terrible Batman costume with a bi heart as the Batsymbol, an ace flag cape, and no pants. The audience was ecstatic. Bruce was mortified.
Nightwing has never said his sexuality, but anyone who claims he’s straight is quickly met with pictures of the Discowing suit and up to a dozen laughing emojis.
Jason is sex-repulsed aromantic asexual. He’s not as vocal about it as Dick is, but he does like it to be known. He’s the type to make garlic bread/cake/world domination jokes. And ESPECIALLY dragon jokes. He kinda tends to just insert it casually into conversation, he didn’t do anything crazy to come out. It’s just a fact about him.
Red Hood claims to be sexually attracted exclusively to guns. Bruce hates this joke.
Tim is the opposite of Bruce- he’s sex-positive bisexual demiromantic. One of the few Batkids to come out while in costume- he got a concussion on a case and blearily mumbled into Bruce’s hair that he’s “you but backwards” and completely confused Bruce. Tim is a little shy about his identity, but since dating Bernard he’s been more open about it.
Red Robin is out as bisexual, but hasn’t added demiromantic to that. Tim is worried people will piece his secret identity together, since Tim doesn’t realize that most normal people are not highly skilled detectives who can tell a person’s identity from a single acrobatics move.
At the moment, Damian just thinks he’s feeling the normal “ew cooties” that most children do. In the future he’ll realize that he’s sex-repulsed ace/aro, although he’ll refuse to use those terms in favor of broodily muttering “this bloodline dies with me.” Ra’s has an actual heart attack the first time Damian says this to his face and has to go into the Lazarus Pit to recover. Talia has never been more proud.
Barbara is sex-neutral, demiromantic and asexual. She’s more outspoken about it than most of the family, and runs social media pages about disability and the asexuality spectrum alike. Aphobes and ableists that make the mistake of leaving comments often mysteriously find that their most embarrassing search histories have been sent to their grandmother.
Cass is sex-repulsed ace/aro. Steph was the one to explain sexuality to her, and also made her an ace ring. Cass told Bruce first, then the rest of the family. She’s never come out publicly- Cass doesn’t like media attention being on her- but some sharp-eyed Gothamites who are looking can spot the black ring on Cassandra Cain-Wayne’s middle finger in a few paparazzi shots the papers got their hands on. (I have a fic about this!)
Black Bat has never been asked her sexuality, mainly because she’s absolutely terrifying and nobody can stammer out the words when faced with her.
Stephanie is sex-positive graysexual grayromantic, and absolutely not shy about it. She’s almost as good as Dick at making horrible, filthy jokes. Has punched a guy in the face for aphobia, does not regret it. Stephanie is out and proud and loud about it.
Spoiler/Batgirl III have both been seen wearing a rainbow flag as a cape too many times for anyone to assume they’re straight.
Duke is sex-neutral demisexual/demiromantic, and is probably the most open about it of the whole Batfamily. He’s fully out and so is Signal, and will inevitably show up at any daytime Pride event just to say hi. Gotham adores him, and he’s practically the ace-spec community’s mascot. Can and will use the entire rainbow spectrum of light to create various pride flags over Gotham whenever he feels like it, and has started taking flag/location requests. Once turned the Batsignal gay.
Harper is sex-positive bisexual aromantic, and where Stephanie is loud about it, Harper gets violent. She carries a souped-up taser and doesn’t hesitate to use it. Has knocked at least four homophobes/aphobes out cold not counting the ones she beat up in the Narrows. Bluebird is not only publicly out as bisexual but wears two out of three bisexual colors, and while it’s not come up publicly yet, she won’t hide that she’s aromantic either. Along with Signal and Spoiler, Bluebird is one of the vigilantes that’s known for being specifically good at handling LGBTQ+ issues. She wouldn’t have it any other way.
After being forcibly outed as gay and then bullied for it, Cullen is still in the closet about the fact that he’s asexual and sex-repulsed, too. The first person he told after Harper was Alfred. By now the whole family knows, but they’ve been careful to keep it away from the media until Cullen’s ready to come out himself.
Alfred is sex-neutral, aromantic, and pansexual, though he’s older than some of those terms and doesn’t often use them to describe himself. Bruce didn’t know Alfred was anything but straight until he was almost seventeen, to which Alfred replied- signature eyebrow raise at full height capacity- that he had a career in the theater, Master Bruce, and no one who does that can possibly be typical in matters of orientation or any other aspect of life.
The outfit might seem antithetical to this, but Selina is ace too! Specifically, she’s sex-positive, heteroromantic and demisexual. The leather outfit is primarily for distraction purposes rather than true sex appeal. When it comes to Bruce, however, Selina’s more than once described herself as “morosexual.” Bruce, bless him, still has no idea what that means.
There ya go. Ace-spec Batfam. Happy Pride to everyone but especially all you fellow ace-spec folks who absolutely, 100% belong there.
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jisungchan · 2 months ago
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60 minutes | njm
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or, where your return to your favourite masseuse
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part two of the minutes with jaemin series. read the drabble that started this here! read part one, 30 minutes, here!
⚔︎ warnings: masseuse!jaemin x collegestudent!reader, afab! reader, hella petnames from jaem, softdom!jaemin, fingering (f!receiving), NO race specific descriptors (skin colour, hair texture, etc.), 69, swallowing, face sitting, blowjob, f! and m! receiving oral, NO body type specific descriptors (size of reader body parts, height, weight, etc.), no piv... jaem does whip his dick out though this time !!!... if i missed anything lmk!
word count: ~2k
a/n: i listened to sticker while writing the smut part LOL 
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it had been only 2 weeks since you last got your first massage, yet it seemed like it was both an eternity ago and just yesterday. you sat on your bed, staring at the time; you only had an hour until your appointment with him. 
when you left the parlour that day, your friend instantly attacked you with dozens of questions, none necessarily suggestive, but more so curious as to just how good of a masseuse you got lucky with to leave you a flustered mess in the passenger seat of her car. 
you didn’t tell her anything, you weren’t ready for the other onslaught of questioning that would arise out of her finding out you had a bit more than just a massage. 
the truth is, she kind of killed two birds with one stone with the last appointment. while it was true school was having you stressed out (more than usual), you were also dealing with a terrible case of sexual frustration as well. all the guys on campus are well… bad, to put it kindly. most of them just hook up to get themselves off, and the others are either celibate or already in a relationship. you wanted no parts in any of the different types of men who roamed the college town. 
it’s like ever since you had your little, appointment, with jaemin, he’s been in your sights. you never recalled ever seeing him before, yet now all of the sudden, he is everywhere on your campus. the first time you saw him, you were walking through the quad with a few of your friends, when he and his group of friends passed by. too involved, you didn’t even notice him smiling at you, until he cleared his throat, called your name, and walked directly up to you and lifted your chin to make eye contact with his soft palm. speechless, you looked up, confused. since when did he go here?
the second time you saw him, you were studying by yourself in the library, nursing your cup of coffee and attempting to read the chapters your professor assigned. suddenly, you heard the chair across from you drag across the tiled floor. looking up once again, you were met with a smiling jaemin plopping his bag on the next chair and placing his laptop on the table. small talk was made, and you both went on to study wordlessly for the next few hours. 
the next time you'll see him, will be in that same massage room as before.
walking in, by yourself this time, you were even more nervous than before. you know what you’re expecting, but what if you’re wrong for expecting anything more than a massage? you don’t want him to think you see him as a sex worker of sorts. your head was a mess and you spoke to the same receptionist and she walked you back to the room. the same room with the faint peach smell and music lulling in the back. again, you took off your clothes, still opting to keep your underwear and bra on for some modesty, and waited in the robe for your god-send of a masseuse to come in. hearing the door open, you peep your head up from its low position of watching your hands pick at your nails. he had that same smile as alway, and walked over to greet you with a kiss on your cheek. 
he untied your robe, this time with no regard for your shyness. i mean, his hand had quite literally been in your mouth and pu–
“i’ve been waiting to see your name on my schedule again princess, what took you so long?” he leads you to the table, not even placing a towel on your lower half. 
you press your head into the opening in the table, muttering out an excuse of an answer. how were you supposed to tell him you were a wreck thinking about coming again? let alone seeing him again? 
just as before, he works on your back, opting to pour oil right on your back, causing you to hiss and lift your hips at the cool sensation leaking all over your body. 
it feels like an eternity has passed once he finally ushers you to flip over. you are now met with his face for the first time since the massage started. little words were spoken before, but now jaemin wants to be more vocal, more bold. 
“do you remember what i told you last time, darling?” 
well, many things were said last time, but he quickly stops your thought process with him guiding your hand to his aching dick. 
“i said i didn’t get your throat good enough, how about we fix that now?” he smirks as you quickly sit up, your legs parted as he stands between them. 
he pulls at your wrists for you to stand, and he sits in the waiting chair at the corner of the room, pulling at you to follow him. he grabs the pillow and places it on the floor in front of him. 
“what are you waiting for? kneel.” he commands, he still has a demanding presence as he glares up at you. you make quick work to get on your knees, kneeling on the soft cushion underneath. you place your hands on the insides of his thighs as he manspreads in front of you. his look is literally laid back, as he has his pelvis front and centre as he lazily leans back into the chair. you wander up to the waistband of his grey sweats, noticing how they do nothing to hide his imprint. it dawns on you, this will be the first time you have actually seen his dick, and it’s going to be right in front of your face, begging to be dealt with. 
you push down his boxers and sweats in one go, causing them to pool at his ankles. his dick pops up and slaps against his shirt, staining it with some of the precum seeping from his tip. it’s a bit slender, but it is long. veins go up and down his shaft and you can only imagine the texture of them going in and out of you. you feel yourself starting to drool at the thought, and jaemin takes it in his hand and slaps your cheek with it.  
“already drooling over my cock? you haven’t even felt it yet, pretty.” he smirks as he taps it against your slightly ajar mouth. finally, you place your own hands on it, giving it a few pumps before bringing it up to your mouth and slipping the tip in. his precum is salty, but not too bitter. you hollow your cheeks as you take more and more in until you can’t fit anymore. 
you push your thighs together as you get to work on sucking him off. taking your tongue and pressing it on the underside of his shaft. you bob your head up and down and up and down as you pump the rest in your hand. the mix of your saliva and his leaky tip makes it easy for you to guide him in your body smoothly. you let it go with a loud pop! and prod at his tip’s slit with your tongue, making a deep groan come from his mouth. you take one of your hands to lift his shirt up, wanting to see his abdomen rise and fall rapidly with your movements. he sees your attempt, and throws his shirt over his head to allow you to bask in his body. you push your thighs even further together and start shifting them together, desperate for any friction. 
you place him back in your open mouth, this time determined to take all of him. you press your face further and further and further until your nose is met with his neatly trimmed pubic hair. your eye level with his v-line, and you feel yourself dripping onto the cushion beneath you. he moans as he takes your hair in his hand, holding you down as you force yourself to breathe through your nose. meanwhile, you take your hand to cup the rest of him drooping heavily below, massaging as you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. he finally lessens his grip to allow you to continue. 
however, that doesn’t last long as he yanks your body back up. 
“you don’t think i didn’t notice you rubbing those pretty little plush thighs together? what kind of man would i be if i only got myself off? ”with that said, he brings you back to the table, this time laying on it himself face up.
“don’t be shy, sit on my face baby.” 
shakily, you climb on top of him, and he pulls your underwear up to press against your core. you whine at the feeling and brace your hands on his calves, facing his still painfully hard erection. you feel his nose prodding at your hole through your thin, poorly drenched underwear before he moves them aside and pulls down your hips to be directly on his lips. 
you feel as he starts to eat you out like a madman. his tongue is flat against your slit, covering every area and leaving none to be discovered. his grip on your hips is deathly as he forces you even deeper into his face. after a few moments of gathering your strength, you grab his dick again and continue with your past antics. you’ve never done this position with anyone, and you’re wondering why the hell not?
you’re trying your best to take him in again, but the way he’s fucking you open with his tongue has you seeing stars and glitching. the way his tongue rolls over your clit has you moaning around his cock, especially when he presses his fingers into your lonely hole. intent on making him feel just as good as you were, you force your head back all the way down to fully engulf him in your mouth. and when you feel the vibrations of his moans, you almost came on the spot. you start grinding helplessly on his face, loving everything he’s giving you. 
“it tastes so much better from the source, i could stay here all day.” he whispers against your pussy, and it seemed like he was talking to her more than you. 
once you start playing with his heavy balls, waiting to be emptied into your warm, wet, mouth, he starts twitching in your mouth. he stops eating you out to let out some of the most beautiful moans you have ever heard. he curses out with your name and you know he’s close. you bring your nose to his base and lick him all over with your tongue, pushing him to unload down your throat. it doesn’t take much longer for him to spurt out his sticky smooth cum into your mouth. you take him out again and slap it against your tongue, urging him to give it all to you. and once he does, you sit up as he turns you around on his face.
now, looking down on him, he truly looks like a madman. hair messy and your slick covering the entire lower half of his face. he forces your hips down again, this time hooking either arm around them to keep you from getting up. you feel as his nose bumps your clit every time he presses his tongue in and of your seeping hole. you bring your hands to his hair, needing anything to ground you from the insane man between your thighs. 
it only took another good look at his face, his eyes closed in heaven devouring you, for you to come undone. you gripped his hair tightly, this time it was you pushing your hips down onto his face, and he gratefully took every last bit. easing up, you scooted back to sit on his stomach, and he sat up on his elbows, admiring you in both yours and his post-orgasm bliss. he licked his mouth clean as he took your face in his hands to kiss you. ironically, this was the first time you’ve felt his lips on yours. and they are even softer and more plush than they look. pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you, 
“next time, we won’t be in this room.”
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reevesdriver · 4 months ago
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The 141 Clinic: Crack It (NSFW)
Summary: Your lower back is killing you so when you mention it to your mum and she recommends a gruff and handsome chiropractor that can work wonders with his hands who are you to refuse?
Word count: 2625
Reader: Female reader
Character(s): Captain John Price / AU Chiropractor Price
Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Pervert behaviour / Masturbation / Fingering / Oral sex (Fem Receiving) /
Support Me: Kofi
(AN: I woke up in the middle of the night and my back was killing me and this idea came to my head so enjoy. Also I've always wanted to go to a Chiropractor and get cracked like a glow stick, is that normal or am I just getting old??) (Also I'm not a chiropractor but I've seen some videos here and there so for the sake of the fic let's pretend I know what I'm talking about.)
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Your back was well and truly, fucked. After throwing it out doing something you can't remember you'd popped some painkillers and hoped for the best. Unfortunately for you no matter how much resting, stretching and painkiller taking you did nothing seemed to be working. A few days post back throw-out you were sat in your mums kitchen slowly massaging your lower back with a grimace on your face.
"Oh dear, has the pain not subsided yet?" She stopped in the middle of her conversation to ask when she saw the pained look on your face.
"Normally it goes after a day or two but it's been almost a week now and it's still the same."
"Hmm." She thought. "My friend Val said there is masseuse clinic that opened up not too long ago next to that new gym. I'll get the number from her hold on."
Before you could protest she left the room to grab her phone, it couldn't hurt to go and see a professional could it? If you went to the doctors they would tell you to rest and take painkillers and so far that had done nothing for you so why not give it a go? She returned to the room, phone in hand, and opened on a text message thread. "Val said to ask for John Price, he's the Chiropractor who helped her hubby with his back pain a few months ago. She said he's very handsome too."
You nod adding the number to your phone and choosing not to acknowledge the last thing your mother said, her friend Val had terrible taste in men so you were positively sure that the Chiropractor would be nothing special. Pressing the number you just saved you raised your phone to your ear as it started to ring. After a few rings you heard the phone being picked up and the deep and gruff voice on the other side of the line immediately made you lose your train of thought. "Hi this is the 141 clinic how can I help you."
"Oh, uh, hi, sorry. I'm looking to book an appointment with John Price please."
"That's me love, can I take some of your details and reasoning as to why you're looking for an appointment." God his voice was like velvet, goosebumps rose on your arms and you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand.
"H-Hi Mr Price." You stutter and quickly give out your name and details. "The appointment is for my back, I threw it out about a week ago and no amount of rest or painkillers is getting rid of the pain."
"Ok I see, I can fit you in tomorrow at 5pm if that's any good? If I get a cancelation I could get you in earlier but if not then it'll have to be that time please."
"Yeah, that's fine. Is there anything I need to do before the appointment?"
"Nothing at all love, just turn up and make sure you're wearing something comfortable. I'm going to put you in all sorts of positions so best not to have anything movement-restricting on." John spoke and then grinned when he heard the sharp intake of breath from the receiver.
“Ok I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow love, bye.” He hung up and added your appointment to his diary for his own record. Your mum smiled at you as you put your phone down on the counter. “Well did you get an appointment.” She asks with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, that was Mr Price on the phone, he's booked me in for tomorrow."
"Oh is that why you blushed?" She laughs.
"I'm not blushing, I just didn't expect his voice to be so deep."
"Mhmm." She smirks and you shake your head in response.
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You spend the next day working from home perched on your office chair at your desk as you replied to emails and sorted through documents to try and occupy your mind. Anxiety crept in as you checked the time on your laptop and saw that it was nearing 4pm. Deciding you were done working for the day you clocked off and took a quick shower before riffling through your closet for some cycling shorts and a baggy top. They were comfortable and non-restricting, just what Mr Price had said to wear.
Once dressed you grabbed your bag and shoved your purse and a bottle of water into it before pulling up your phone and typing in the name of the business so you could get directions once you got into your car. The drive didn't take long and soon you were pulling into the almost empty car park which was dimly lit. Parking up you took your keys from the ignition and made your way towards the building after grabbing your bag and locking the car.
Entering the building you were hit with a sweet smell of flowers and fruits from the wax melt that was burning near the reception desk. An older lady with glasses perched on the edge of her nose looks up to you as you enter. "Hi Miss, can I help you?" She asks with a smile.
"Hi yes, I have an appointment with Mr Price. I'm a little early." You shift nervously.
"Of course you must be the last appointment of the day, follow me please." She says standing from her chair and rounding the desk. You anxiously follow her down a hallway and stop a little behind her as she knocks on a door before entering.
"Mr Price, this young lady has an appointment with you." She says as she holds the door open urging you to step into the doorway and you fight the urge to drop your jaw at the man sat behind a desk.
"Hi." He greets you with your name and stands extending a hand out to you. You step forwards and shake it making note of the size difference between your dainty hand and his large muscular one that had specks of hair on the knuckles. "You're free to go Dorris, lock the door on your way out please."
"Thank you Mr Price, I'll see you tomorrow." She replies and with that the door to the room shuts and you're left alone with the very handsome chiropractor.
"You seem nervous love, I've not scared you have I?"
"N-No not at all, I've just never had anything like this done before so I'm a little anxious that's all."
"Well I promise you're in safe hands, but if you feel uncomfortable at any point just let me know and we can stop ok?" He says and you nod in response. "Good, now you said it was your back that was hurting you so I'll make a start with that, if you lie down on the table for me darling I'll have a quick feel and see what I can do."
You nervously dropped your bag against the wall and took off your jacket and shoes before stepping over to the table. Kneeling into the material you quickly lie down onto your belly and rest your arms to the side of you. You feel him step to your side. "So where do you work sweetheart?" He asks as he runs his hands up and down your spine and across the expanse of your shoulder blades.
"I work from home, just admin work mostly." You explain and for once you wished you had a better sounding job.
"You spend a lot of time sat at a desk?" He asks as he feels different points on your back and gives them little tugs here and there. He's trying to work out any knots he can find before he turns to cracking and so far he's having a field day with your middle and lower back.
"Um yeah, a few hours sometimes. I try and take breaks when I can but I get so stuck into my work that sometimes I forget."
He tuts. "That's not good for your back darling no wonder you're in pain." You hum in agreement and try to steady your breathing as his digits roll over your vertebrae. "Okay I think I know where your problem is. I want you to breathe in for me when I say so doll and exhale as I push, can you do that for me?" He asks and awaits your reply.
"Yeah, I can do that."
"Good girl." He says gruffly and you clench your thighs together, an action that doesn't go unnoticed by him. "Breathe in doll ... and breathe out." On the exhale his heavy hands press into your spine which cracks and almost instantly you can feel a wave of relief wash over you. The pain that was nagging you all week had finally subsided and you couldn't help but let out a breathy moan at the feeling.
"That do the trick darling?"
"Yeah, fuck, thank you."
You feel him lift the bottom of your t-shirt up. "I just need to have another feel of your back, easier to do it without clothes in the way. Can I undo your bra?" He asks and you gasp softly.
"Of course." You reply a little too quickly earning a throaty chuckle from the man. "You're an eager one aren't you." His hand runs up your bare spine and you feel his fingers pinch your bra as he expertly undoes it with just a finger and thumb.
You feel him lift a leg over the bench so he's straddling your body, his hips resting dangerously close to your arse as he rubs your back feeling each vertebrae. John reaches to the side of the table and starts to lift a section of it up, you feel your arse begin to rise in the air as your pelvis is pushed upwards from the cushioned bench.
"So, how long have you been a Chiropractor for?" You ask trying to distract your mind from the position you're in.
"About 10 years, a couple of my mates and I had the idea to put our skills together and open this place up as well as the gym next door."
"That's nice that you're all working together, you must be close."
"Yeah we are." He says and edges himself closer to you so his hips are pressing against your arse. The growing bulge in his sweatpants prods at your rear and he can hear your breaths deepen and sees your fists clench around the edge of the bench when he presses against you. He finds another spot he wants to crack and makes you breathe in again. On your exhale he presses down onto your lower back, nudging his cock against your closed arse and pushes his palms until he hears the crack.
You let out a breathy moan. Any attempts to stop the sound are futile as John bends over your body, his rough hands wrap around the sides of the bench as he lowers his mouth to your ear. "You alright there darling?"
"Mhmm, perfect." You say, your voice muffled slightly. John laughs softly, he's looking at your face, your cheeks are flushed and there's drops of sweat on your forehead. You let out another soft moan when you feel his cock twitch against your rear, eager to be touched.
John rises back up and runs his palms against your back once more, he can feel the delicate little hairs on your back rise slightly as he moves his hands to cup your arse. "I think we're all done with your appointment sweetheart." He says and you whine again. An hour had passed by so quick and although you felt relief with the pain in your back gone you still craved his touches. Your ears prick up when you hear him continue. "Unless there is anything else you'd like me to help you with?"
"Please John, touch me." Your voice more clearly now since you've raised your head to look back at him.
"Are you sure?" He questions and you quickly nod.
In one swift motion John moves his hands from your arse cheeks to the waistband and is tugging your shorts and underwear down and off your legs, discarding the clothing haphazardly across the room.
"Fuck." He mutters seeing the gloss that is smeared across your inner thighs. Your arse is still raised on the portion of the bench and he has a clear view of your leaking pussy. You wiggle your arse slightly earning a rough strike to the plump cheek. "So needy." He says and immediately dives his fingers into your sopping heat.
You moan at the intrusion, two thick fingers eagerly pump inside of your wet cunt with ease. "So wet, so warm, fuck." He groans feeling your walls clench around his digits. John retracts his fingers as quickly as he'd put them there and before you could protest the lack of him he presses his wide tongue against your pussy. Effortlessly he lifts your hips up a bit more with his hands and laps at your clit, devouring your pussy and coating his stubble with your juices.
His tongue moves feverishly between lapping the small bundle of nerves and diving into your cunt. Your nails dig into the leather of the bench as he eats your pussy better than any man ever has, spit and cum is drenching his face and your pussy so much that you almost miss the rough slaps of skin on skin as John tugs his cock.
"God John, fuck." You breathe as you cum against his face, legs jerking so much that they threaten to fall off the bench. John pulls his face from your pussy and jerks his cock quicker, throwing his head back he plasters your arse with thick ropes of cum, an animalistic moan falling from his mouth as he climaxes.
When a few seconds pass you finally speak. "Do all your clients get this kind of treatment?" You ask panting, a hint of jealousy present in your tone.
"That wouldn't be very professional of me now would it?" He replies and you laugh. He grabs some wet wipes from off his desk and cleans you up before wiping his cock and tucking it back into his pants.
“You did really well today sweetheart though I feel you would benefit with these appointments becoming a regular occurrence. I’m going to put in a recommendation for you with some of my colleagues too and we can take it from there."
You blush. "Thank you John." You say moving off the bench and tugging your shorts back up your body, your underwear nowhere in sight. Being the gentleman he is he helps you put your shoes back on and ties the laces for you before forcing his lips against yours. You can taste yourself on his mouth and tongue as runs his hands up your body and around to your back where he refastens your bra with ease.
"You're free to go." John says finally detaching his mouth from yours. You stay stood still for a moment, catching your breath and trying to calm your legs that are still numb from pleasure. John watches as you throw your bag over your shoulder and grab your jacket from the floor. He opens the door for you and leads you back to the front doors, the building now completely empty from any staff who would have been walking around before your appointment.
"I'll see you soon love." He says opening the door for you once more and allows you to step outside into the cold air. With a smile you turn away from him and slowly walk back to your car unaware of John pushing your underwear deeper into his pocket.
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fillinforlater · 1 year ago
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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
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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!”
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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. 
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“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.
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“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.
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“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. 
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“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.
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“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. 
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“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.
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“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.
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“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?”
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“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.”
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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.
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“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. 
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“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.
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“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!”
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“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.
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“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.
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“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.”
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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!”
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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.
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“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—
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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.” 
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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.”
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“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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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago
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not fair - ch1
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in which your boyfriend is perfect in every single way... except for one and kei can't just sit back and watch you suffer... ch1 | next [masterlist]
// "i don't know if you could handle me" ~ ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 9731 ᴡᴏʀᴅs
a look into this chapter/tw: 18+ super nfsw!, cheating (seriously, major plot point), use of character first names (idk what got into me when i wrote this 3 years ago), degradation, choking, face-fucking, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, stop light system, squirting, dirty talk, mentions of unconscious fucking, the smallest amount of plot that becomes more prevalent as the chapters continue on, soft after sex kei, cross posted from ao3, afab reader she/her pronouns
send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
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It wasn’t unusual for Kei to be over while Tadashi was out of town. It happened quite frequently, actually. You two were best friends, even before Tadashi was in the picture. You never let anything come between you two, not even Tadashi. Tadashi understood too. He was never jealous of the time that you spent together or accusing towards the two of you and flirting remarks you would pass. You and Kei were just… well, you and Kei.
But tonight was different. Tonight, you were in yours and Tadashi’s bedroom, which wasn’t the unusual part. Tonight, you were both on the bed, which also wasn’t the unusual part. Tonight, you were sitting with your chin on Kei’s chest and your leg between his legs, your knee resting on his crotch. This wasn’t even an unusual position for the two of you, who often would press yourselves together in intimate positions. Tonight, you finally admitted to Kei that Tadashi has only made you come twice in the entire time that you’ve been together. 
“What? Like, dating? Or?” Kei asks, his eyebrows furrowed together, looking thoroughly disgusted and confused, “because it could just be that you’re both too soft n-.”
“Like, ever, Kei,” you interrupt, looking just as confused and disgusted as Kei was. 
“That’s horrible,” he scoffs, “You just let that happen?”
“I don’t let it happen, Kei. It just happens.” You rest your head completely on his chest, sighing dramatically. “He’s amazing. He’s incredible. He’s so nice and he’s kind and he’s pretty and he’s everything that I need!” 
Kei scoffs again at your words, “but he can’t make you come?”
“But he can’t make me come,” you repeat, shaking your head against Kei’s chest and then look back up at him. “I just, I haven’t gotten off from someone else in so long. Only me, alone, in the bathroom.”
“That’s so sad,” Kei says, the disgusted look still lingering.
“What else am I supposed to do about it?” you groan, frustrated. 
“Get someone else to fuck you,” Kei shrugs. He doesn’t laugh or hint at a joke. He’s being serious.
“Wha- What? I can’t do that…,” you hide your face from Kei, ensuring that he doesn’t see the redness on your cheeks.
“Sure you can. Look, you have needs, okay. He can’t satisfy them. You just have someone else do it.”
“I don’t trust anyone enough to do that.” You feel horrible even contemplating the option. A terrible light bulb goes off in your head. 
“You…,” you start, hesitantly. Kei’s eyes widen immediately at the start of your sentence. 
“No. No, absolutely not. He’s my best friend,” Kei shakes his head.
“You’re my best friend,” you say, softly. “I don’t trust anyone else! You said it yourself. I have needs, Kei. He can’t satisfy them. I have to find someone else to do it.”
“You’re really going to use my own words against me?” 
“Yes,” you state so matter-of-factly. 
“No. I won’t,” he shakes his head, looking away from you, but not moving you from on top of him.
“Kei, please! I couldn’t do this with anyone else, but I’m just,” you take a deep breath, ready to lay all of your shame out on the table. “I need this. I’m so desperate, please.” Kei introduced this idea to you and so quickly you needed it to become a reality. You needed it to become a reality with Kei. 
Kei looks you over, your chin pressed against his sternum as he breaths. “Fine. You want to know the real reason?” Your interest is piqued. You tilt your head, curiously. 
“Hm?” You can’t believe you’re even having this conversation, but now you’re in too deep. 
“I don’t know if you can handle me,” Kei pushes you off of him and promptly gets off the bed. 
“Wha- What do you mean?!” You’re offended. He’s acting like you’ve never had sex with a condescendingly cold person before. You scoff at this statement, rolling your eyes dramatically, and standing up with him, following him.
“I mean, I don’t think you can handle me,” he repeats himself, not wavering his tone or message. He adds after a second of your angry face, “You’ve been with Tadashi for almost 2 years. You guys have probably been having vanilla, missionary sex, maybe doggy style if you’re feeling extra spicy, the entire time you’ve been together.” He waits for your objections before continuing, interrupting them, “I know I’m not wrong and I know Tadashi. He’s just as nice and “sorry, (y/n)!” in his day to day as he is in bed.” You’re silent. You know he’s not wrong. 
Tadashi has always been so accommodating and kind in every aspect of your relationship. He tries so hard in bed, he really does, but he’s made you cum maybe twice in your entire relationship with the help of yourself, though he would probably claim many more times than that seeing how often you fake it. You hate yourself for it, but you’ve tried so hard to teach him, to show him, to tell him exactly what you want and how to do it, but he never gets it. It’s exhausting and has been way easier to just to fake it and then finger yourself later in the bathroom after he’s gone to sleep.
You want Kei so badly. You want to come so badly and you know that right now is your only chance. “I- I can handle you.” Your voice is much more timid and much less convincing than you anticipate it being. 
“I don’t think you can.” Kei’s voice, in contrast, is steady and low, already causing your core to feel warm. 
“I can, Kei, I can. Please,” you hold onto his arm, looking up at his face, pleading, “please.” You sound much more confident, and also much more despairing as you whine for him. He looks at you for a few moments, his eyes trailing up and down your body and finally stopping on your eyes, searching for the overwhelming excitement and consent that he needs to move forward.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. This is the final time he’s going to ask or question you. He needs you to be absolutely positive because he’s not going to hold back. You nod desperately. “Verbal consent, (y/n), I’m serious.”
“Yes, fuck, yes, Kei, please. I need this. Please, I can handle it, anything, please.” The string of words leaves your mouth quickly. Kei waits another few seconds after, giving you plenty of time to change your mind before closing the gap between you both. His lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth so quickly. He’s holding your jaw as he tastes every inch of the inside of your mouth. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, hard, allowing you to explore his mouth. His tongue is harsh against yours, but it feels so good. He pulls away abruptly, already lifting your shirt over your head and running his hands down your body, his hands sculpting around every curve. 
“If at any time this gets too much for you,” he presses kisses into your neck, nudging your chin upwards as he starts to softly roll the skin between his teeth. “Yellow means we’re moving to somewhere you’re uncomfortable with.” He licks your neck, pressing his entire tongue against your skin. When he pulls away, the air is cool against the freshly wet flesh. “Red means that you’re uncomfortable and you want to stop immediately.” He moves down to your collarbones, nibbling on them and breathing heavily against them. 
“If you can’t speak,” he grabs your hand and taps 3 distinct, hard times against your skin with two fingers. “3 taps, hard so that I can feel them without a doubt, and two fingers to know it’s intentional.” His eyes are on yours, his look stern and serious. “Do you understand?” You nod, overwhelmed with all of this information.
“(y/n), verbal consent. I don’t fuck around,” he says, his eyebrows raised expectantly. 
“Yes,” you nod confidently, despite the questions forming in the back of your mind. Maybe you couldn’t handle him. You weren’t expecting this level of safety precautions, maybe just a safeword considering how he made out that you couldn’t handle him. Maybe he was right. 
“Repeat.” Kei’s lips are back on your throat, sucking the skin so hard that you feel the bruises forming almost instantly. His hands are reached around to your back, one hand sliding down over your ass and the other unhooking your bra before you notice what he’s doing. He tosses it to the side and presses himself against you, your nipples dragging against the fabric of his shirt as he massages into the flesh of your ass. 
You can’t exactly think straight, but it’s important that you remember these even when you can’t think. “Y- Yellow means caution, that I’m starting to f- feel uncomfortable about something.” Kei digs his fingers into your flesh as he moves his head down, capturing your nipple in his mouth and twirling his tongue around it. “Fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back. 
He pulls away from your nipple, the cold air feeling even colder on your spit sheened nipple, causing it to get even harder. “What else?” 
You answer quickly, just wanting to feel his tongue on your nipples again. “Re- Red means that you- that I- I want you to stop because I’m- I don’t like it- I’m uncomfortable.” Your nipple is back in his mouth. He’s sucking on it with such purpose, the suction sending waves of pleasure through your body. 
“A- And, I’m going to, ta- tap on you to- to show you, but please, please don’t stop, Kei.” You grab onto his shoulder and tap with two fingers against his back, 3 times with enough force for him to feel them. He listens to you, nodding as you tap against him, but keeping your nipple in his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, bringing his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers. “Fuck,” you breath. 
He stops, coming back up to face you. “Good.” His fingers are making quick work of your button and zippers and are quickly in the waistband of your jeans, pulling them to the ground, but leaving you in your underwear. On his way back up, he runs his hand up the inside of your leg, following your ankle to your calf to your inner thigh leading to your pussy as he uses one finger to rub once between your slit, pressing harder into your clit, rubbing two circles before stopping and stepping backward. You can’t help but moan at this tiny, delicate touch. He’s still fully dressed and you’re suddenly aware of what you probably look like. Your instinct is to try to cover yourself up from Kei’s hungry eyes, but he starts rubbing his cock through his pants. Your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his jeans. You feel your panties get even wetter as you see how big the bulge is. You’re almost positive that Kei could see how much wetter you got, how the dark spot on your panties grew when he started rubbing himself. 
He pulls his own shirt off and you marvel at how toned his body is, how perfect his skin is. He takes a step towards you, his hard bulge only inches away from your thigh. Your breath stills. “Take them off, baby,” he encourages. You listen to him, beginning to lower yourself to your knees, but he holds your elbow, not allowing you to drop. “From here.” You’re confused at first until he uses his hand to rub in between your lips through your panties. “I want to be able to touch you.”
You nod, your breath skipping as you try your hardest to focus on undoing his buckle. It seems like such a difficult task right now, your mind completely infatuated with the feeling of Kei’s long finger rubbing against the doused fabric of your panties. You seriously can’t figure out how to undo his stupid buckle, but he just lets you struggle. You think that he’s being nice as he pulls his finger away, allowing you a moment to think straight, but he brings the finger up and sticks it into your mouth. “Suck,” he says, low. You listen, sucking on his finger, trying to multitask and undo his buckle. “Sloppier, baby,” he coerces. You listen again, your fingers on his buckle stilling and focus on the spit drooling out of your mouth. He pulls the finger from your mouth and places it back between your lips, pressing harder into your clit and moving faster, pushing your panties in between your lips until your bare lips are exposed and your panties are bunched up between them, completely hidden. Kei’s finger slips past the panties, dipping into your flood for just a moment before running his finger back down the strip of your panties, pushing at your hole. Your moans are fluttering as you try to sink onto his fingers. He holds on in place harshly. 
He starts counting down. You’re confused, so confused. You don’t know why he’s counting down or what will happen when you reach the end of it, but you’re hoping for the finger to enter you. “3… 2… 1…” You close your eyes in anticipation, but he pulls his hands away completely. 
“I- Kei- No, please, why?” you beg.
“I told you what to do and you were too busy and concerned with what you wanted. Now I’m not going to touch you,” he says so matter-of-factly. You wanted to laugh. You thought it was a joke. You needed it to be a joke, but now Kei is taking off his own buckle, which he does in 10 seconds, might you add. He’s taking off his own belt, throwing it gently to the side and undoing his zipper and button. 
“Kei,” you whine, “It’s… It’s not fair.” You’re pouting. You know he doesn’t find it cute and amusing when you see his facial expressions. “It’s just… You were making me feel so good.”
He scoffs, “Just from that? Tadashi must be treating you worse than I thought.” Your cheeks burn at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. You want to tell him to stop saying his name, but you know he won’t listen to you anyways. Instead, you just nod at him. He laughs.
“Please, Kei. I couldn’t focus,” you complain, trying to excuse yourself, but he’s not listening or he doesn’t care or maybe both. He pulls down his jeans, only the thin fabric of his boxers are covering his hard, long member. You swallow, hard, looking at how big he is. Tadashi isn’t necessarily small, but he’s definitely not big, and more so, he’s definitely not this big. Your eyes are glued to Kei’s boxers as he pulls them down, releasing his cock. A gasp escapes your lips, a sharp inhale into your lungs as you truly take in how big he is. He’s not just long, but he’s thick. You’re getting even wetter as you think about everything you want to do to him and what you want him to do to you. 
“Can you listen this time?” he asks, condescendingly, a disgusted look on his face. You nod excessively, so quickly that your vision blurs. You’re ready to do anything that he asks you to do. You just want to touch his cock. He smirks at how eager you are. “Take your panties off for me, baby. Nice and slow. Turn around when you do it.” He knows exactly what he wants. 
You start pulling your panties down, slowly, like he’s asked of you. You want to have them completely off, but you know you have to listen to Kei especially after last time. When the panties are to your knees, you’re facing completely away from him. “Bend over.” His words are so commanding and harsh. You do as he says, bending over to pull your panties all the way down to the floor. You can feel how exposed your pussy is from behind in between your legs, can feel the air highlighting every inch of wetness.
You hear Kei step closer to you as you stand their frozen, your panties around your ankles. You can feel his cock graze in between your legs just briefly before he controls it, ensure that no part of you is touched. He leans forwards, pressing his hips against your ass and brushing his cock between your lips for the smallest fraction of a second. “What does Tadashi call you while he’s fucking you?” The question stuns you, your knees buckling and your heart beginning to race. You know that you’re almost fucking his best friend, but you don’t need to be reminded of him every few minutes. Still, you know that Kei wants an answer and you want Kei to be good to you, so you answer. 
“H- He calls me sweetheart,” you stutter. Kei actually laughs, stepping back away from you and holding his stomach as he repeats it. 
“He calls you sweetheart when he’s fucking you?” he asks, trying to make sure he heard that right. 
“Yes.” You suddenly feel more embarrassed at this admission than you do at the position you’re in. He grips onto your hips and you want him to enter you so badly, but instead he turns you around to face him and gently pushes you onto the bed, lying flat on your back, your head propped up against a pillow. 
“Spread em,” he gestures towards your legs as he spits into his own hand, slicking his cock as you spread your legs open, exposing yourself to Kei. 
Kei is towering overtop of you, a knowing smirk on his face as he moves the fist he’s made around his cock, stroking slowly, squeezing his hand as he gets to the head and letting the pressure off as he returns back to the base. You know how desperate you look underneath him. You don’t need to see it in his glasses to know, but you do, and it makes you even wetter. Your legs are spread apart, the breeze from the fan making you painfully aware of how warm and flooded you are and how erect your nipples are. Your hands are beside each retrospective hip, gripping onto the sheets, waiting for him to enter you, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even get closer. 
“Touch yourself,” Kei sneers. You don’t know what to do. You heard his words clearly, but your body isn’t making any move to do what he’s asked of you. You wanted Kei to touch you, you didn’t want to do it yourself. He takes a step towards you, his hand around his cock moving faster. “Let me see you play with yourself, sweetheart. Show me,” he coos, his tone changing to endearing in such a short amount of time. Hearing Kei call you what Tadashi calls you shakes your entire soul. You feel so conflicted but so hot. You want to hear it again. It sounds so much better coming out of his mouth. It makes you want to please him. You want to make him proud. 
You nod at him, timidly moving your hand down to clit and rubbing small, diffident circles into it. Your fingers don’t feel nearly as good as Kei’s did a few minutes ago. It doesn’t help that he’s watching you so intently either. It’s embarrassing to be completely open and on display like this, lying underneath someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but, rather, your boyfriend’s best friend, your best friend. You have to shake the thought out of your mind before your body doesn’t allow you to get off. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the sensations of your fingertips brushing against your swollen clit. Your eyes are only shut for a few seconds before Kei is clearing his throat. 
“Eyes open. Look at me,” Kei clarifies. His hand hasn’t stopped moving as he’s scanning your body, evidently very happy with what he sees. Even with this gorgeous sight in front of you, it’s hard for you to lose yourself in the moment being stared at so eagerly. “Both hands.” He tilts his chin up at you, gesturing at your hand that’s still gripped onto the sheets. 
With your other hand, you cup your tit, rolling your hard nipple in between your fingers while maintaining your pace with the other hand. “Good girl,” he says under his breath. A moan escapes you. He raises his eyebrow, cockiness seething from his smile. “Yeah? Are you my good girl?”
You nod obnoxiously, a strangled noise coming out of your throat as you move your attention from your nipples to your wet hole, teasing yourself with your fingertip. You’re getting into it now. The situation is weighing on you but in the best way possible. You look up at Kei and your mind is still screaming that he’s not your boyfriend, but the louder the voice gets inside your head, the wetter your desperate pussy gets. He’s not your boyfriend, but he’s here, watching you tease yourself and torture your own clit as he jerks off above you, because your boyfriend can’t get you off like Kei can; no one can get you off like Kei can. He knows it too. Even when you would try to get off in the bathroom after having sex with Tadashi, it never felt this fucking good. 
“Do you want to be a really good girl?” he asks, his hand now gently rubbing on your inner thigh. 
You know that he’s just using those words, that phrase, to get exactly what he wants, but it only makes you want him more. You would do anything to be good for him. You want him to use you, to satisfy his every need with any part of you that he wants to. “Please, please, Kei. I’ll do anything.” Your own voice surprises you at how desperate it sounds. 
“Sit up.” His tone has switched back to the harsh, commanding asshole that he was before as he grabs onto your arm right as you’re about to insert your finger fully into yourself. You let out a defeated sigh before sitting up, looking at him innocently. “Stay still,” he demands. Kei walks over to you, getting closer and closer until the tip of his head is pressed up against your lips. You go to open your jaw to take him into your mouth, but he stops you, holding your head still. 
“What did I say?” he growls at you, grasping a fistful of your hair as punishment. “Repeat it.” 
“Stay still,” you repeat, your lips opening slightly around his head, allowing some of the precome to line the inside of your lips. You want so badly to lick your lips, but you know that Kei wants you to just sit there, so you don’t move. Your head is still as he swipes the spongy head across your lips, stroking the length as he does so, causing more precome to drip out of the slit and onto your lips. He pushes forwards, but you keep your mouth still, the tip only entering into your mouth when he nestles it in there. It touches your closed teeth and you shutter, trying to keep as still as you can.
Kei moans as he drags his sensitive head across the fronts of your teeth, your cheek bulging as he slides it into the side of your mouth. The combination of his grunts, his hands in your hair, and the thought of him using you for his pleasure all have your pussy aching to be touched. You want to touch yourself so bad, but you know that Kei will be angry. 
“Open,” he finally tells you. You let your jaw fall open as you look up into his eyes, fluttering your lashes at him, but he doesn’t look at you like you’re adorable or cute or pretty, he looks at you like he’s starving. “Tongue out.” You instantly stick your tongue out. “Good girl.” Your pussy throbs. That’s all you wanted to hear from him. You want to hear it again. 
“Lick the precome from my slit, sweetheart.” There’s that name again, shaking your being. Kei positions his cock at the tip of your tongue. You’re not expecting the name and the specific language has you blushing. You do as you’re told, focusing the tip of your tongue to lick the precome from his slit. The salty sensation on your tongue makes your mouth water for more. Kei drags his head down your tongue before taking a step back. He hasn’t told you to move your head or your tongue, so you don’t, despite everything in your body telling you to whine and pout at how far away his cock is from your mouth now. You’re so focused on where his cock is that you don’t notice that he’s bent over towards you or the glob of spit that falls onto your tongue until it’s already coated it. 
You barely have any time to react, only savoring the taste for a moment, before Kei stands back up and rests as much of his cock as he can on your tongue without actually entering your mouth. The slickness of his spit on your tongue and your warm breath from panting causing Kei’s cock to pulse. You can feel it. Kei looks down at you and lets more spit drop from his tongue. You’re not sure if he missed or if this is where he was aiming, but the spit lands right beside your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. 
He’s thrusting his hips slowly, gliding the underside of cock across your tongue. Your jaw is already starting to ache from staying open so wide, but you don’t dare relax. It’s like Kei can read your mind. “Wider,” he grunts, angling the tip of his cock down. You force your jaw to open uncomfortably, but the smirk that Kei gives you is worth any amount of discomfort that you feel.
Kei gives you no warning as he forces his entire length down your throat in one swift movement, groaning as he feels how tight your throat is around him. You try to gasp in surprise, your gag reflex triggering as his cock slides down your throat, but he’s blocking your airway. You take in air from your nose, but it’s not enough. Kei doesn’t budge in the slightest, just strokes your hair as he mutters “good girl” over and over again. You focus on his words and your breathing and the fact that you’re making him feel good right now. 
“Tongue out,” he demands, his hands grabbing your hair now instead of stroking it. Your nose is pressed up against his stomach and your tongue is sticking out as far as you can force it out of your mouth. You can feel it grazing his balls, every time you flick your tongue, his grip in your hair gets tighter and his groans get more guttural. 
Drool is leaking out of the side of your mouth as Kei’s cock pulses in your throat. Your head feels light and you’re pushing back into Kei’s hands, desperately trying to get air. You need to get a good breath or you’re going to pass out. He pulls you off of his cock. You’re coughing and inhaling deeply several times trying to recover. Kei gives you these few seconds of reconciliation before starting to get annoyed. 
“Open,” he nods down to the spot that you were in before. You assume the same position, chin tilted up, tongue so far out that it’s painful, jaw aching from forcing it open so wide, your lips swollen and sheened with spit and precome. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” You love to hear the praise coming out of his mouth. It’s making you drip. 
You’re expecting his cock, but see his eyes close to yours and now you can’t breathe for another reason. He spits in your open mouth, but not on your tongue this time. The spit goes directly down your throat and you let it slide all the way down. His fingers are wrapped around your throat putting pressure directly on your airway, quickly getting so tight that you can’t breathe again. “But I decide when I’m done with your throat. I decide when you get to breathe again. I decide when I pull your pretty fucking mouth off of me. You don’t get to make those decisions. If I want to fuck your throat until you pass out and keep fucking your throat when you’re unconscious on the floor, I’ll do that.” You want to moan at these sentences, at the thoughts that are now flooding your head, but you can’t. No noise comes out of your throat at all, it can’t. Your hand comes up and wraps around Kei’s wrists, your eyes roll back into your head as his grip gets tighter. He’s waiting intently to see if you want to tap out, but when he doesn’t feel any pressure against his wrist, he tightens even harder, his fingers shaking. “Do you understand?” he commands. You nod as best as you can. When he pulls his fist away, you take in so much air that your head starts to pulse. Your breaths can’t be large enough. “Now open.”
You assume the same position. Your breathing finally slows when he rests his balls on your tongue. You’d never done anything this dirty with Tadashi. This was foreign territory for you. “Suck.” You can feel him above you, stroking his cock as you take one of his balls into your mouth. The entire situation feels so dirty , but you can hear Kei’s moans and grunts and you never want to stop. You continue sucking, focusing on the ball in your mouth and your tongue against it. 
“Take both in your mouth, you fucking whore,” Kei says, getting into this very quickly. The degradation makes your clit throb and pussy clench. You open your mouth wider, taking the other ball into your mouth. Your mouth has never been this full before. Your nose is pressed against the underside of his cock, but you can barely focus on that. “Stop,” he grunts. You release both balls from your mouth with a pop , your tongue still sticking straight out, waiting for whatever he wants to do with you next. 
“Good girl. Deep breath” You listen to him. He slides his cock into your mouth as soon as you’ve taken a good breath, grunting at every inch that slides down your throat. He holds it there again. You close your eyes, focusing on your breathing, and making sure that you make it through. Then you feel a sting on your cheek, startling you. Kei’s palm had made contact with your cheek. Your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. Look up at me, sweetheart.” You moan around his cock and he inhales at the vibrations around his length. A single tear rolls down your cheek as the residual sting lingers. Your breathing is okay, manageable this time until Kei plugs your nose. 
“You better open your throat wider or I’ll have to fuck your unconscious body and you won’t be able to cum. It’ll be just like Tadashi, huh?” Your eyes open even more so at this sentence. Kei pulls his hips back, taking most of his length out of your throat before slamming back in. You missed your small window for air. You sit, patiently waiting for him to start moving again. You breathe as much as you can as soon as he pulls back. You’ve forced your jaw open even wider and have allowed your throat to open, allowing the smallest bit of air in. 
Kei’s thrusts into your throat get more and more frequent each time until he’s pistoning into your mouth. His hips are thrusting into you, abusing your poor throat, at such a fast speed. Every few thrusts, he buries his cock as deep in your throat as he can, holding it there until he feels you starting to fall, your eyes rolling back, and your jaw relaxing. 
“Gag on my cock,” he commands, continuing, “I want to feel you gag on my cock. It feels so good when I feel your abused throat constrict around my cock. I’m too big for you, aren’t I? You’re so used to small cocks, aren’t you, sweetheart? You can barely handle how fucking big I am.” It’s true. It’s all true. 
He hits the back of your throat, your body convulsing slightly as you gag. You can feel the muscles in your throat tighten around his cock. He loves the feeling so much that he does it again. And then again. Your stomach is twisting as he hits it for the 4th time. He glides his cock down your throat. The noises that he’s making are magical. 
“Swallow.” You swallow whatever liquids you can. “Yes, fuck,” he groans, “again.” You swallow again, significantly less fluid in your mouth. “Again.” You swallow again. “God, your throat feels so good, I might not even need to fuck you.” You can’t help but to whimper, swallowing again around his cock. “Fuck, I could just cum down your throat right now and leave you on the bed for when Tadashi comes home. Maybe he can help you.”
You want to shake your head no. You want to beg for him to stay, to touch you, just to tell you to cum. If he just told you to cum right now, you think you could. You’d do anything for him right now, but you can’t. You can’t do anything except let him use your throat for whatever he wants to use it for. He laughs at the panic in your eyes as he pulls out of your throat, stroking his cock above you. “Or maybe I won’t even use you to cum, huh? Maybe I’ll just make you watch as I blow my load onto your pretty face. Tadashi would love coming home to that, wouldn’t he?” 
You don’t know how to answer that, so you don’t. Kei doesn’t like that. You feel a sting across your cheek, harder this time. “I asked you a question.”
“I- N- No. No, he wouldn’t like that,” you answer truthfully, even though you don’t think it’s the answer that Kei wanted. It’s exactly the answer Kei wanted.
“But would you like it?” he smirks, waiting for your answer. He hasn’t stopped stroking his cock, moaning as he swipes his thumb over the head. “Don’t lie to me…,” he pauses, “sweetheart.” His smile is pure evil.
You nod timidly before verbalizing it. “Yes. I would like that a lot, Kei.” 
He laughs again, shaking his head. “Tch. Pathetic.” Your entire body feels warm and embarrassed. He leans over you, getting so close to your ear that his low whisper sounds like a scream. “It sucks that I want to ruin you, then, huh?” A shiver disperses through your entire body as you shake your head no. No, it definitely doesn’t suck that he wants to ruin you. 
“I want you, now.” Kei finally decides. He pushes you back on the bed again. “On your side.” You’re conscious of how little you know about sex positions, particularly ones where you lay on your side. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, laying almost completely on your right side, save for the small parts of your back that are touching the bed. He positions himself between your legs, lining himself up with your throbbing pussy. It hasn’t been touched since you didn’t listen to Kei. You know your hole is tight, but so lubricated that it’ll swallow him just as easily as your throat did. He takes your leg and rests it on his shoulder. 
He rubs his head in between your lips, pressing up against the hole. “Please.” It slips out of your mouth, but you’re not going to apologize for it. Kei rubs his thumb against your clit, using your own wetness to lubricate your swollen nub, his finger moving effortlessly against it. You can’t stop whimpering. 
He doesn’t stop to ask if you’re ready, or prep your hole with fingers, he just starts sliding into you. He’s not even halfway inside of you when you decide that you’ll never be this full again. It takes your breath away. You can’t breathe, but you’re trying. You’re gasping for air as he inserts his entire length into you. “Kei, Kei, Kei, fuck, Kei.”
“I haven’t even started fucking you, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss into your leg next to his face as he slides completely into you, not stopping until his hips are pressed up against you. You’re waiting for him to let you adjust to how thick he is inside of you, but he doesn’t. He starts moving almost instantly, rocking his hips backwards and then thrusting into you completely. You’ve never had anything so deep inside of you before, not even your own fingers or a dildo. 
Kei picks up the speed, rocking his hips into you repetitively, in such a rhythmic pattern that you’re already almost there. You know, and he does too, that all he has to do is angle just a bit down and he would be obliterating your g-spot. Even without it, you can feel your arousal heightening so high. His thumb is still rubbing circles into your clit. “Kei- Kei, I think, I-,” you breathe, stuttering over your words, so filled with cock and pleasure that your head is foggy. 
“Already? You’re already going to cum? God, you really are starved of some good cock, aren’t you?” he teases, picking up speed even more. “I’m not even hitting your g-spot. I’m not ready yet. You’re going to cum without me even trying?”
You know you should feel embarrassed, but you’re not. You have no shame in letting yourself go. “Fuck, Kei, I’m coming, fuck.”
Your eyes squeeze shut. Your head presses back so far into the bed that you know how messy your hair is going to be. Your toes curls and your knuckles are white against the sheets. The entire time, no noise comes out of you, despite your mouth being completely agape. The pleasure is obliterating you. You can’t think of anything at all except for the pleasure. How good everything feels. Kei hasn’t stopped fucking you. He’s slamming into you as you ride your orgasm to completion. As soon as you’ve stopped cumming, you want to cum again. You need him to make it happen again. 
“I’m not stopping until I’m finished. If that means that you’ve cum so many times that your orgasms hurt by the last one, then so be it,” he thrusts into you again and again. His hand has moved from your clit and is instead wrapped around your leg, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder. Every time you think he can’t fuck you harder, he proves you wrong. He’s almost growling at this point, fucking you so deep and hard that you exhale every time he pounds into you. 
“You’ll never cum from anyone else again,” he slams into you, “Every other guy that you ever take will never compare to me, will never be as good as me. Their cocks won’t fit inside you like mine does. They won’t fill you up as much as I can. I’m ruining you. I don’t even think you’ll be able to make yourself cum after this. Every time you want to feel pleasure, real pleasure, you’ll have to call and beg for it. When you’re in bed with Tadashi, so late at night, and he’s sleeping next to you, you’re going to have to call me and beg to meet up with me so that I can get you off.” His words are just making you get closer again. You know that he’s just talking dirty to you, but you know how much truth weighs in those words. He’s right. 
“You know that, don’t you?” he asks, breathless from how relentlessly he’s fucking into you. 
You nod at the sentence, still thinking repetitively over the words he said to you and how true each of them is. Kei reaches down to start rubbing your clit again. He can see you’re close. He can feel that you’re close. Your pussy is gripping his cock, the rigid, wet walls milking him as you have your second orgasm.
“Yes, yes, Kei, fuck. I’ll never feel this full ever again. Please, please, will you fill me after this time? Please, I can’t imagine never fucking you again. Please,” you moan through your orgasm. You want confirmation of something to look forward to. You need him again. 
He laughs at how unapologetic you are at begging for him again before he’s even finished with you. He doesn’t answer but instead asks a question. “Tadashi fucks you doggy style, sometimes, doesn’t he?” He fucks you through the end of your orgasm. 
You nod, hesitantly, still blown away by cumming twice already. “Sometimes,” you reply. Kei snickers. 
“On all fours,” he directs you. “I was serious when I said I wanted to ruin you, baby.”
You assume the position on all fours, a position that Tadashi will sometimes have you take him in. You’ve never understood the hype around this position, but you’re hoping Kei teaches you. A sting spreads from your ass as Kei spanks you. You’re already feeling the hype. You whimper. 
“Again?” he asks, smirking. You nod, wanting to feel the pain but knowing that he’s going to do it regardless. He spanks you again, harder this time. He doesn’t ask if you want it again, just spanks you for a third time, even harder. You won’t be able to sit tomorrow if he continues on. You kind of want him to continue on. You’re not met with another sting, but Kei’s cock thrust completely inside of you until his hips are pressed against your ass in one motion. You choke on your own breath, coughing in surprise. 
He brings his hands up and snakes one into your hair, grabbing a fistful, and the other on your shoulder, using it to pull you back onto him. You hear your skin slap against his, hard. You can feel the sting on your ass from where Kei spanked you as it smashes against his thigh. He’s so deep inside you, you think you can feel him in your stomach. 
Kei’s chest goes flush against your back. He whispers into your ear, “The next time he’s fucking you, you’re going to say my name.” It’s almost hypnotic, how low and intriguing his voice is. “You won’t be able to get me out of your mind,” he tells you, each thrust into you punctuating his words. He straightens back up, gripping your hips as he fucks into you. His fingertips are going to leave bruises. “Do you know why?”
You shake your head no. You want him to tell you why. You want him to say anything to you, anything at all. 
“Because you’re my bitch,” he says so seriously, moving quicker as your wetness grew, slicking him even more at the sentence, “and Tadashi has never hit this…” Kei thrusts, angled into your g-spot. The sensation makes it feel like lava has erupted in your stomach. “and it’s all you’re going to think about when you’re in this position.” He knows exactly where it is and he won’t stop smashing the head of his cock into it repetitively. “How this is what it could’ve felt like, but he’ll never make you feel like this. So you’ll be thinking of me the entire time and you’re going to say my fucking name.”
It’s too much. Everything about this situation is too much. You’re speechless. You’re aware of every part of your body that Kei has gripped onto or smacked. Your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even know what’s happening, only that Kei’s cock feels so good against your walls and slamming into your g-spot. You feel a warm sensation run down your legs slowly at first, but then explode onto the sheets beneath you and Kei’s cock and his lap as you scream for him. “Kei! Fuck! Yes, Kei. I won’t ever think of anyone else. Only you. Only you, Kei, fuck. Oh fuck.”
“Fuck, you just squirted all over my fucking cock, fuck.” For the first time tonight, Kei sounds like he can barely speak. He can’t think of a witty retort about how good he made you feel, he can only keep repeating those words. “Fuck, you squirted so fucking much all over me, baby. Fuck, good girl. Fuck.” He pulls himself out of you. If it weren’t for the mind-blowing orgasm you just had that you need a minute to recover from, you would’ve whined endlessly until he was back inside of you. Kei looks so focused right now and you’re realizing that his hand is on his cock, wrapped around right where his head meets his shaft, squeezing, not stroking. His chest is heaving and he’s swallowing excessively. He had to stop himself from cumming too early. (Define too early?) He’s made you cum 3 times already, feeling your pussy tighten around him as he didn’t even stutter, and has fucked you for over an hour, not even mentioning the abuse your throat went through.
You think he’s waiting for the sensation to pass before entering back inside you, but he drops to his knees, pulling your hips towards him. “You’ve earned this, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin. You feel his nose press up against your ass, his tongue sticking out and licking from your clit to your hole. He doesn’t use the tip like Tadashi does, he uses the flat side of his tongue, exploiting every part of the surface of his tongue. Your arms shake as he sticks his tongue into your hole, fucking it, moving his face back and forth. “Fuck, Kei.” 
He moves back down to your clit, flicking it with the tip this time, fast, before sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue over it again and again as he suctions onto it. “Holy fuck. Oh my God.” Your face is down in the bed, your arms refusing to support you anymore. The sounds that are coming from behind you are almost enough to make you cum on their own. Kei is slurping all of the juices that he’s created since he first started touching you.  You can’t see him, but the sounds are incredible. You can’t see him. 
“Kei, Kei, can I lay on my back? Can I see your face? I want to see your face.” You know you’re not in any position to ask him for anything, but you hope he listens to you. You want to watch him eat you out so badly. He hums into your pussy, nodding as he flips you over, spreading your legs even further. He looks up at you, his mouth completely clamped over your entire pussy, his tongue working particularly hard, creating an insane amount of pressure on your clit, swirling around it, in between your lips and slit, fucking into your hole as deep as he can. His eyes never leave yours. You try to keep up with him, but it’s too fucking much. Your head falls backward, staring up at the ceiling. Kei’s arms reach up, grabbing onto your tits, rolling both of your nipples between his long fingers.
“Look at me,” he mumbles into your pussy quickly before continuing his expertise. You listen to him. It’s the least you can do. You look at him, your eyes watering at the pleasure that he’s creating for you. It sounds so messy, so sloppy, so fucking good . 
“Don’t- Don’t stop. ‘M gonna-,” you moan so loudly that it scares you as Kei works even harder, sucking your clit into his mouth and nibbling it softly before using his entire mouth, his lips, his nose, his chin to rub against your pussy, spitting on it repeatedly to slick it up. “Fuck!” you’re screaming now and you can’t help the sensation release from you again, the clear liquid spraying from between your legs onto Kei’s face. You can’t even feel apologetic, but you don’t think he wants you to. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit through your orgasm, you clench your thighs together, completely overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps rubbing your clit through the pain and into another wave of pleasure that quickly crashes into another orgasm. You’ve never come that quickly together before. There’s no squirt this time, only insane pleasure washing over you as you pant and scream Kei’s name. 
You’re out of breath. You can barely move. You’re so tired from all of the times that you’ve come, but you know how hard Kei is and you know how badly you want his fucking cum. 
“I want to be all the way inside of you,” Kei states. You’re confused and he can see the confusion on your face as he cleans his glasses with the blankets on the bed. 
“How? I mean, like, weren’t you… already all the way inside me?” you ask him, innocently.
“Deeper,” he says, laying down on the bed next to you and flipping you on top of him so your soaked pussy lips are wrapped around his length. He grunts at the feeling. You lift off of him as much as you can muster with how weak you’re feeling right now. He helps you, grabbing onto your ass and lifting gently until you’re up high enough for him to line himself up with your hole. 
“Sit,” he commands. You listen to him for the millionth time tonight, lowering yourself onto his cock. His cock hasn’t grown since he fucked you doggy style, but it feels so much bigger. It’s so much deeper inside of you as you’re seated on his cock. Your walls grip him on the way down.
“Fuck, you’re tight. How does Tadashi last so long in you?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know. 
You laugh for the first time all night, “He doesn’t.”
He holds onto your hips, looking up at you and how breathtaking you are. Your tits are out, moving with every breath that you take. It makes Kei’s cock twitch inside of you. “Bounce on my cock, baby.” He’s asking so much of you with the state that you’re in right now, but he knows you’ll listen to him. “Be a good girl. Bounce on my cock. I’ve done all the work tonight, sweetheart.” That’s all it takes. You get a sudden surge of energy as you nod, using your knees in the bed as springs to slide up and down his cock. 
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. His fingernails dig into you again, bruising the already bruised skin. How are you going to explain all of these marks to Tadashi? You don’t even care at this point. You want Kei to keep making more. He’s guiding you up and down, though you’re doing most of the work. “Faster, baby, fuck.”
You listen. You bounce up and down on his cock faster, getting higher before slamming down against his lip. Your tits are bouncing just as wildly. He moves his hands from his hips to your tits, grabbing onto them and massaging them as you milk his cock. You purposefully tighten around him on the way up and relax on the way down. Your tight pussy desperately gripping at each inch of his length, coaxing the cum out of his cock. “God, fuck. Milk my cock, baby, yes.” Kei’s lines are becoming less demanding and more appreciative. They’re still commanding, but less harsh. He moves his hands back to your waist, lifting you almost completely off his cock, your head only tightly squeezing his head. 
“Ready?” he asks. The bliss on his face is still there, but there’s so much devilish intent now too. You don’t have time to ask questions or to even tell him yes as he fucks up into you. His hips are moving so quickly up that even though your body isn’t moving, the ripples of energy are tearing through you, shaking them violently. 
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Kei.” You’re already there. You’re already ready to cum just from penetration alone. 
“Not yet.” This is the hardest demand yet for you to listen to. “You can only cum when you feel my load fill you up.” You swallow hard, but nod frantically. 
He’s grunting so loudly as he claps into your pussy from underneath you. He’s getting so deep inside of you with every thrust. You’re speechless. You’re so on the edge the entire time that he’s fucking you like this that you can’t focus on anything else. He pulls you down completely on his cock and stops thrusting for a second. He’s breathing heavy as he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his chest, his cock still just as deep inside of you, but this time when he fucks into you, he hits you g-spot on the first thrust. “Kei, Kei, Kei,” you can’t stop saying his name, “I can’t- I can’t hold it.” You barely even notice the tears running down your cheeks as the pleasure is so built up inside of you. 
“Fuck, baby, fuck, almost.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, his cock is pulsating, you feel so fucking good wrapped so tightly around his cock, but he needs to feel you cum. He needs to feel your pussy tense up as he drills into you, knowing that he’s the reason you look so pretty, your face contorting from pure pleasure. He wants to feel you milk him, coaxing his big fucking load out of his balls and deep inside you. He can make you cum. He doesn’t have to ask you. He can just make you cum, even despite you trying to be such a good girl and listen for him. 
He holds your hips steady, slowing down for a few seconds, catching his own breath, letting himself relax. You’re both grateful and so sad about this. You’re grateful because you would have cum just then, but you’re sad because you wanted to cum so bad it hurt. He stills for a second and then he’s fucking into you again, but differently this time. His arms are shaking from holding you down against him so tightly, not letting you move, despite your numerous attempts to squirm, as he thrusts up into your tight, aching pussy mercilessly. You’re sobbing into his shoulder.
“I- I- I can’t hold it, Kei, please.” You’re trying to be so good for him. It’s making his balls tighten, but he doesn’t want to come yet. He can’t come until you milk it out of him. Do it. Cum, he thinks as he picks up speed, like sprinting the last half mile of a marathon. It’s as much as he can give and he wants it to be enough to push you over the edge without having to ask. You’ll feel so much better tightening around him while you apologize to him for not listening. 
“I’m going to cum, Kei, please, please, please, I’m sorry, fuck. I can’t hold it any longer,” the string of words come out so fast that they practically overlap each other. You cum around his cock, your pussy throbbing, gripping so tightly onto his cock as he keeps up the intensity of his thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you scream out. You start repeating his name over and over again, unable to think of anything else in the world. 
With your pussy clamping so hard down on his cock, it’s exactly what he needs. He feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing inside of you as his hips start to stutter messily. “Fuck, sweetheart, fuck, you’re making me cum, fuck,” he grunts, snapping his hips into you as hard as he can as he unloads inside of you, strings of cum filling up your insides, squeezing out of your pussy as he tries to fuck them deeper into you, but has already overfilled your abused pussy. He’s still cumming, feeling it leak out of his cock, when he pulls his cock from your pussy, letting it land on your ass and back down on his own cock. He slides his cock back into your pussy, going as deep as he can as before exhaling a final breath. 
You’re both quiet for a second, not talking about anything that just happened, just breathing. You’re still pressed up against his chest, cum dripping out of your pussy and onto Kei. You know that you should both clean up, but you’ve never been this tired in your life. You can’t even roll off of him and you don’t think he could push you off. 
“When will Tadashi be home?” he asks, panting, trying to regain himself. 
“He doesn’t get back until tomorrow morning,” you hum happily, listening to his accelerated heartbeat. You don’t move, but he doesn’t ask you to move. Your breathing is more irregular than his is as you close your eyes. “Can we nap? I need to nap. That took so much out of me.”
Kei’s quiet for a moment. There’s no laugh or retort, he just nods, wrapping his arms around your waist and stroking your hair. He grabs the cleanest blanket that he can from where he’s pinned to the bed, draping it over top of both of you. You hum at the warmth. He knows that this is a part of the whole degradation thing, the comforting at the end. That’s why he’s doing it.
“Goodnight, Kei,” you smile up at him lazily, kissing his chest before laying it back down. “Oh, wait, Kei,” you look back up at him. 
“Hm?”
That’s why he’s doing it. 
“Thank you,” you smile at him, blinking slowly. You’re so tired that you don’t even notice his heart skip a beat as you thank him. 
Right?
2K notes · View notes
velvetlilith777 · 2 months ago
Text
It's Too Late To Turn Back Now...
Sebastian x Reader
Author's Note: It's finally finished! Once I had the idea for this I couldn't get it out of my head and had to give it to you guys, too. This is my first attempt at writing anything at all since high school, but the plot is cute I think? If you have feedback please be gentle lmao <3
Also, so sorry the reader is fem identifying in this! I'm hoping to write more gender neutral fics in the future once I feel more confident in my writing.
Synopsis: Sebastian had been your best friend for a couple of years now, but that's all it was. But if that were true, why did everyone else get a different impression?
Inspired by this post by @creativepromptsforwriting! 🖤
Divider by @bunnysrph! 🖤
CW: fem identifying reader (nothing super descriptive but she/her pronouns used), swearing, the concept of sex is mentioned exactly once passively, one instance of name calling, terrible grammar and sentence structure
Word Count: 10.6k
The autumn air was crisp and light as it breezed through your sweater. Making your way through a crowded main street in the heart of Zuzu city proved to be difficult even by yourself, but today you had others to keep safe and sound.
This was the first trip you'd been able to take to the city in what felt like forever. Having been way too busy with your farm and the order load from Lewis' needs for the valley's various festivals to even dream of making the trek back to the bustling streets you once called home. It was hard enough to carve out time to hear the new songs your best friends had finished for their newly successful band, or make it to the weekly game nights you had become so fond of. Your absence had left a noticeable empty feeling in your group, but your friends understood. Often grateful for the times you did make it to the usual hang out spots or managed to say a quick hi to them while you were out running off to your next obligation. But with the Stardew Valley Fair behind you, your busy season was rapidly winding down as the bitter months approached. There was only a handful of crops left working towards harvest, and your animals had been staying outside as much as possible since these would be the last days before they were shut in from the cold until spring came back around. All of this meant your morning chores were finally able to be completed well before the bus out of town opened for the day, allowing a much needed trip with your friends to the city to become a reality.
Though, it wasn't long into the bus ride before you remembered that hanging with your besties wasn't always a picture of stress relief.
When boarding the bus, you followed the trio to the back where you usually sat to be as secluded as possible. You had a decent relationship with Pam, but she was known to let things slip at the saloon if Gus failed to cut her off soon enough. The last thing anyone needed was Robin or Lewis knowing some of the things you had discussed.
There were barely enough people in the entirety of Pelican Town to fill the bus up, so on these trips each of you got a row to yourselves. You took your usual positions, Sam and Abby sat on the left side while you and Sebastian sat on the right. Within minutes of the bus moving, you realized there was a riff Sebastian had forgotten to tell you about. What you had missed was that Sam had slipped and spoiled the ending of the game Abby had been grinding out for months the night prior. Abby - who was justifiably upset - got immediate revenge by telling him the entire plot of the current season of the show you'd all been watching together. Sam had a tendency to fall asleep 15 minutes in and had yet to catch up, so you and Sebastian had been working overtime to not discuss anything he didn't know yet. So much for that.
As the jabs began to get more serious, you turned around to Sebastian with a puzzled look on your face. Seb shot back a look that said "shit, sorry! I forgot." He then began filling you in over text. He recapped and told you that even though they were even in terms of initial offense, they hadn't stopped there and had been bickering ever since. Dramatically, you rolled your eyes rolled into the back of your head, which caused him to let out a small chuckle. This wasn't the first or even hundredth time the two of you had been on the outside of their arguments, and neither one of them liked to stop until they'd had the last word.
Though the fights weren't missed, you missed your friends. It was just nice to be around them again even as your annoyance grew. There was no way you and Sebastian would be able to hear each other over the existing volume of shouting and the old bus engine, so you opted to talk over text while sending each other silent looks reacting to what you had just sent or read.
Out of the group, you two had the hardest time physically seeing each other, but that didn't mean you weren't constantly talking. You saw Abby the most, seeing how often you were at Pierre's for seeds (or emergency fertilizer for the flowers you were sure you had 3 more days to plant) throughout the busy season. Sam also was pretty easy to make quick small talk with, bumping into him practicing kick flips or playing with Vincent while you hurried into Cindersap Forest to harvest the wood you always seemed to be out of. While you were in the mountains pretty frequently on a mission in the mines, Sebastian was a programmer with deadlines just as strict as yours. Often locked in his basement typing away in a language that looked so foreign to you. Sometimes you'd get lucky and see him on a smoke break, which both of you enjoyed, but usually you tried to let him stay focused and caught up with him throughout the day over text. Sending memes or venting about anything and everything whenever one of you managed a spare moment was the norm. He was just someone you could have a consistent and casual stream of dialogue with.
The topics of conversation were small. Seb asking you about your animals, in particular how your void chickens affectionately named Hecate and Malice were doing. He had instantly loved them since their eggs mysteriously showed up at your farm one day. You noticed that he had changed his normal nose ring out for a black stud that glistened a little every time the light caught it. He said he'd been meaning to do it for a while and appreciated that you liked it. Small, comfortable conversation.
That's how it always was with you and Sebastian. Comfortable. It didn't matter how long you went without talking or what you were doing, there was a level of comfort that came with him that you had never felt with anyone else. That's not to say that you felt uneasy with the rest of your friends in Pelican Town. You knew and loved all of your neighbors - well, maybe not always Lewis, but you got along - and Yoba knows you were down to do anything and everything with Abigail and Sam. But something about the way you relaxed whenever Seb was around was different. And if you didn't know any better, you'd say he felt similarly by the way his shoulders visibly loosened when you made your way into the saloon on busy Friday nights.
The ride to Zuzu city wasn't terribly long, but it was long enough for the incessant squabbling from two of your friends to give you a headache. While Sam and Abby's fights were never actually harmful or that serious, they had a tendency to act like siblings and continually yap nonsense at each other. At some point during the ride the arguing had escalated to Sam having his ear yanked by Abby, which lead you to where you were now. Strolling through the bustling crowds of the city, arm linked with Abby's to keep her heading in the right direction. Sebastian had the same job with Sam hooked to his arm. They were still too focused on one upping the other person to safely keep up with you and avoid getting lost. You and Sebastian also served as a buffer between them which had done very little to get them to stop, but at least poor Sam's ear was safe.
After many crosswalks and a few honks from impatient taxi drivers, you could finally see your main destination in the distance. You and the much taller emo shared a sigh of relief and a slight smile over getting everyone there without too much trouble.
The plan was to visit all of your favorite store in the valley, Electric Park Comics and get dinner afterwards. The store was more of a hobby store in its current era than just a place to grab comics, making it a hit amongst your group. There was something for everyone, the comics in the front being what initially drew Sebastian into the shop on one of his late night rides a few summers ago. He'd also grown fond of the back left corner where they kept old copies of games from consoles past, even occasionally getting in a good condition console for resale from someone who was clearing out an attic. He didn't even realize that section was there until the first time he brought Sam, who found it instantly. The pair had made it a monthly occurrence to make the trip to see what new releases the store had in, until one night they decided to swing by with you and Abby after a successful bar show for Goblin Destroyer. They didn't even have a chance to tell you both that you could head to a store nearby instead of having to wait on them before you were squealing over a Sanrio display they'd never taken note of. The boys had also lost the pair of you after browsing because you'd managed to find a staircase leading to the second floor which housed an in depth occult assortment. After that night, it became a group routine to escape the stress and expectations that weigh on each of you in Pelican Town by heading to that hidden downtown shop and nerding out together.
Approaching the building, you shook Abby's arm and pointed excitedly. The front was decorated carefully with jack-o-lanterns and plastic skeleton statues. Paper cats arching their backs and glittery orange and black garland lined the display windows inside. The festive exhibit and your excitement were enough to get Abby's attention away from Sam's quips. The two of you started excitedly muttering and gasping over how excited you were for the upcoming holiday, and how thoughtful the owner's work was. Sebastian let out an affectionate laugh at the commotion you two were causing. He remembered when you first moved into the farmhouse that autumn was something you and Abby hit it off over immediately. It's was both of your favorite season and you were frequently giddy over anything to do with Spirit's Eve.
Sam was looking away, irritated that Abby didn't care to respond to his last cleverly delivered jab when Sebastian nudged him.
"Hey, what was that for?" Sam muttered under his breath.
"Dude, I know you're upset. But could you maybe just drop this stupid argument for now?" Sebastian said in a hushed tone, holding the blonde back a couple of paces from you. "We haven't been here since the Flower Dance as a group. I'd like to have a good time instead of you guys bitching about something that doesn't matter anymore."
Sam looked around the street and then over as you and the friend he was just insulting minutes earlier. You were still too busy discussing costume ideas and who would get scared in the maze to notice any of this happening. He sighed, realizing how hard it had been to actually get together over the summer despite having made so many plans. How excited each of you were that this had really made it out of the group chat. A slight twinge of embarrassment washed over him.
"Yeah, I guess you're right dude. Abby and I can't take back ruining things for each other but I guess we shouldn't ruin this too." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose realizing he'd also given himself a slight headache the last couple of hours. "I'm sorry."
"It's all good. This is just as much on Abby as it is you. She's just successfully distracted right now" Sebastian laughed.
The boys looked over at the two of you scheming ways to get Marnie to let Jas go in the maze with you this year and shook their heads knowingly at each other.
"Let's go in before they figure out a way to actually make that happen and I have to hear Vince cry about it" Sam chuckled.
He swung the door open. The little bell snapped you and Abby out of your festive ramble and both of the boys faked a gentlemanly usher for you two to go in first.
You walked into the shop and waived hi to the owner Henry as you shook off the chill from the outside.
"Long time since I've seen you miss" Henry smiled at you.
You let out a tired laugh. "Yeah, the farm has kept me plenty busy this year. Knowing the ropes made me too confident and I narrowly avoided biting off more than I could chew."
"Well you made it through. Sounds like you have a reason to celebrate." He let out a hearty chuckle. It was warm and reminded you of your grandpa's years ago.
"I sure do!" you beamed back at him.
You made your way over to the Sanrio section to debate which plushy of your favorite character you wanted to add you your collection this time. Sebastian came over to join you briefly before heading over to the comic aisles that would have his attention for the better part of the next hour.
"Hey, they've got new stickers this time." He motioned to a colorful assortment of little animals is various poses. "We should get matching ones for our helmets."
As you began walking over to look over the selection, the smile on your face turned into a frown. You realized in the whirlwind of the summer you'd forgotten all about the helmet that Sebastian had ordered you for when you accompanied him on his bike. His spare was cheap and clunky, he wanted you to have one a little nicer on the nights you were his backpack.
"Seb, shit I'm so sorry. I forgot you'd done that. I've been meaning to ride with you I promise it's just-"
He cut off your panic with a smile and a finger to your lips. "It's okay, it's not like it was running for a month anyways" he snorted at his own misfortune. "What do you think about these?"
He held up a pair of stickers, one being your favorite sanrio character and his being Badtz-Maru giving off some serious side eye.
"Those are perfect" you giggled at his choice, knowing how often you'd seen him give that same look to everyone you knew in town. "But I also like these" you showed him two carefully chosen frog stickers, both funky little guys. One had a knife with a mildly threatening aura and the other had a bow.
"Dude I didn't even see those!" His face lit up at the sight of his favorite animals in silly situations.
"So these ones then?"
"Nah, let's get both" he smirked as he gently ruffled your hair. "As long as I get the one with the knife."
"Oh, I was thinking you needed the pretty little princess frog myself" you smirked back at him.
From across the room Henry chuckled "she's right you know, it suits you."
Sebastian cocked an eyebrow his way. You'd forgotten he still hadn't let off the tough guy exterior around the shop's owner yet, giving off the same reserved energy he gave everyone outside of your group and Robin.
"I'm only teasing, kid. She'd fist fight you over the one with the bow and we both know it." Henry winked, responding to Sebastian's silent questioning.
You giggled at the interaction which caused him to raise an eyebrow back at you in retort.
"Hold on to these, will ya?" You nodded, Sebastian handed the Sanrio pair in his hand to you and headed over to the comic aisles to look at the newest editions.
Your attention turned back to the plushies you were initially interested in. After mulling over the options, you landed on one holding a little pumpkin, perfect for the season.
Heading upstairs to join Abigail in your shared love for the occult, you heard a snicker that you knew meant she was up to no good.
"Abs?" you called out reaching the top of the steps.
"Here! Come help me with something" she ushered by a grand shelf on the far wall.
Glancing around at the intricately designed candles used for different rituals and practices, you were enamored with the possibilities until Abigail spoke up.
"Which of these candles do you think I could trick Sam into thinking I'm putting a curse on him with?"
"Abs, you know that's not how that works" you let out an exasperated laugh.
"Of course I do, we practice together" she rolled her eyes. "But you know who doesn't? Sheltered little Sam."
Raising an eyebrow, you reminded her "just because Jodi is strict doesn't mean he's sheltered." It was true that Jodi didn't let Sam do a lot when he was younger, but Sam had done a lot of catching up in recent years, especially with you three as his friends.
"I know that but spiritual stuff still freaks him out. You've heard him muttering to Yoba when we play certain games. He hasn't shook all of what her and Kent drove into him."
And it was true. He wasn't good for anymore than 3 rounds of Phasmophobia before he needed a break and he refused to be the one to use the spirit box even if he was the only one left alive. But you still weren't sure that a candle would be enough to trick him.
"I don't know Abs. Maybe you should drop this fight? You already got even with him by ruining season 3. Besides, it's still just a candle."
"Yeah I could, but he threw hundreds of hours of my time down the drain with that spoiler and called my dad a 'rat faced bitch.' Which was clever but I'm the only one who can say that stuff about him!" she whined.
"Listen, you do what you're gonna do, but I won't help you" you put your hands up in surrender. "I just want a nice time with you guys before I have to finish out the rest of the growing season."
Hoping your words had some effect, you went to take a look at the crystal display to see if there was anything you couldn't find in the mines back home. Mostly pretty common stuff, but there was a particularly beautiful carnelian necklace that caught your eye so you decided to grab that as well.
Satisfied with your choices, you left back downstairs to see if the guys had found anything worthwhile. Not to your surprise, Sebastian had each new release of his favorite series in his arms and a new Solarian Chronicles notebook to run his campaigns out of. Sam was rambling on about a new album to him with a new game and a figurine of his favorite character from the last series you all played together in hand.
"Successful haul?" giggling as you cut Sam off from his speech while you motioned at Sebastian's armful of comics.
"S'pose. Wasn't planning on grabbing this much but I missed some updates I guess" he shrugged.
Turning to Sam, you asked him about the game he'd chosen.
"They didn't have the game I hoped for, but I wasn't holding my breath cause it's a popular release" the blond explained. "But the did have this one. I don't really know much about it, but Vince has been yapping about it for a while now. Figured I'd pick it up and it would give me a reminder to spend more time with him. Kinda been slacking on my older brother duties between the band and Joja lately." He let out a small sigh. Everyone knew how much his family meant to him, but he'd been having a hard time finding a new balance between his adult life and making time for the people he loved.
"That's really sweet, Sam. He's gonna love it!" You smiled warmly and nudged him in the arm.
"I thought so too" He grinned a smile of relief at you. "Oh, has anyone seen Abby?"
"She was upstairs still deciding on what she wanted when I came down here. I'm sure she won't be much long-"
You were interrupted by Sebastian grabbing the necklace you had picked earlier from your hand. While he surveyed it, Sam let you know he was going to check around and see if Abby was ready to head out yet.
"Which one is this?" the programmer looked inquisitively at you.
"Carnelian. It helps with courage and energy. Positive life choices and such. I have one on my vanity already but I thought it might be nice to keep one on me" you explained.
"I like it" he smiled and held it up near your face. "Makes your eyes a little brighter."
You grinned up at him, but the moment was cut off when you heard yelling from the back of the building. It was a panicked Sam yelling at what you knew was Abby to "get the fuck away from me!" You shared a tired look, knowing you'd have to step in.
"Un-fucking-believable" Sebastian muttered under his breath. The two of you followed Sam's shouts of terror through the maze of inventory. When you finally found him behind a tall shelf holding old Nintendo 64 games you grabbed his arm in an attempt to get him to calm down.
"Sam, what's going on?"
"THAT is what's going on!" He pointed to the wall where Abigail was rounding a corner, hooded by a cloak she'd managed to find somewhere and holding a black and red candle covered in pentacles. Tufts of purple hair were half covering her face while she muttered completely made up words in a hushed tone. She completed the bit by contorting her face in odd ways.
"Abby, knock it off" Sebastian huffed.
The drummer kept coming closer, causing Sam's panic to increase again. "Stop cursing me bro this isn't funny!"
"She's not cursing you, don't worry" Sebastian shook his head.
"Then why is she muttering shit holding that demonic candle? Sounds like a curse to me!"
Abby was feet away from the three of you now. You reached out and snatched the candle from her hands before she realized what was happening, eliciting and whiny "hey" from her.
"No she's not." you cut in reassuring the blond. "You can't curse someone with just a candle. Even if that was her intention, these are pentacles, not pentagrams. They literally just signify the elements. Seb's right."
"Well he wasn't right about me dropping our argument earlier. I should've known Abby would do something like this" Sam grumbled back.
"I did get him to stop" Sebastian looked at you irritated.
"What like this is my fault?! I told her not to do it and to chill out" you bristled at him. "She's the one that decided to find a cloak and commit."
"Well you could've been more effective is all I'm saying."
"Abby is grown and I'm not her mother." You felt your patience for this situation growing thin. "I wasn't even there when this shit started."
Abby spoke up before either of you had the chance to make this worse. "Guys, I'm sorry. I should've listened and stopped when we were even but he's just so fun to torment. Especially when he's ruined something for me."
"Abby for the hundredth time I didn't mean to." Sam cut in. "You know how I am, I forget who's played and seen what. I don't even remember to call my grandma, dude."
"Hey, I said I was sorry for not dropping it, okay? Are we good now?" she huffed.
Sam didn't look fully satisfied with her "apology" but thought better than to keep this going. "Sure, fine I guess. But only if dinner is on you for fake cursing me or whatever."
"Whatever, I guess that's fair."
With that, you all silently agreed to go pay for your things and head out. As you walked up to the register and sat your things down, you caught a mischievous glint in Henry's eye.
"You buying this necklace, miss?"
"Yeah, I need the energy these days" you joked.
"Oh I mean I just thought it's such a pretty piece, shouldn't your boyfriend be buying it for you?" he glanced at you with a smirk dancing across his lips.
"Boyfriend?! I don't have a boyfriend." The owner's statement had caught you so off guard that you were fighting not to stumble over your words. You turned around to your trio of friends to find them looking just as confused as you were.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" You turned your attention back to Henry, who was clearly a little flustered himself now. "I didn't mean - I just thought with the matching stickers and the way you guys look at each other. Not to mention you were just fighting like an old married couple in the back..." he trailed off before going back to ringing up your items.
Then it hit you. He meant Sebastian. He thought you and your best friend were a couple? You turned back to the group again to read everyone's faces. Sebastian was bright red and just as shocked as you were. However, the other two looked like they understood what he was saying. Only looking at each other for confirmation, they wouldn't look at either of you two.
You paid for your things and said thank you to Henry who was still a little embarrassed at his assumption. He eased up a little when you reassured him you'd see him much sooner this time as winter was coming up.
The four of you waved goodbye to the shopkeeper and headed back out into the chill of autumn. As your group began to navigate the streets in search of food, no one spoke. The lineup was in direct contrast to when you had arrived earlier, with Sebastian and yourself on the outside this time using Abby and Sam as a buffer for your embarrassment.
Thoughts were swirling around your head like the leaves in the city air. Why would he assume you were dating Sebastian? The comment about the way you look at each other really stuck out to you. And why wouldn't Sam and Abby acknowledge you once he elaborated? Because you and Seb were so close as friends, you'd never allowed yourself to even wonder if you liked him and you were more than sure he hadn't either. Surely this whole situation was just a one off case of Henry misreading your group, right?
After what felt like hours but in reality was maybe 10 minutes, Sam was the first to break the silence. "So we never decided where to go for dinner - any thoughts?" He cleared his throat like he was almost as uncomfortable as you and Sebastian were.
"That new burger place just opened this weekend? But that probably means it's packed" Abby responded. "We could always just stick to tradition and grab some Chinese?"
"Works for me!" Sam smiled.
At least a minute passed before he spoke again.
"What about you guys?"
You were shaken out of your trance when you felt an elbow lightly nudge you and realized the blonde was peering down at you.
"What? Oh sorry, yeah, that sounds good to me."
It came out in a stutter but you smiled back at him to try and reassure him you were fine. Sam knew you better than that, but he smiled back and turned his attention towards the only person who looked more uncomfortable than you did.
"Seb? You here?"
"Ye-yeah that's fine." he mumbled.
"Then it's settled. Chinese it is" Abby grinned.
The rest of the walk was just as quiet from Sebastian and yourself as it had been before the question of dinner was asked. Abby and Sam had filled the silence by talking about the latest gossip on Marnie and Lewis' failed attempts at a hidden relationship. Occasionally you'd giggle at some remark one of them made about the mayor and his commitment issues, but that was all you could manage.
The owner of the restaurant you usually frequented on these trips to the city greeted you with a smile. He did most of the cooking so you'd never actually spoken to him, but he recognized your group and had always been kind. You all smiled and waved to him before heading to take a seat at an empty table. The warmth of the restaurant and the aroma from the kitchen seemed to lighten everyone up, but there was still a twinge of tension in the air. Instead of your usual seating arrangement, you found yourself sitting next to Sam and across from Abby. It was a subconscious decision from everybody, but one everyone noticed. After you'd made your final decisions on your meals, everyone went right back to the usual dynamics.
"I'm paying, did you really need to order the damn menu?" Abby let out a laugh of disbelief at the amount of food the staff was placing in front of Sam.
"Maybe, but it's a small price to pay for what may or may not happen to my bloodline in the future" the guitarist cracked back with a mouthful of food.
Sebastian snorted a laugh at his remark which was the loudest he'd been in a while. While also letting out a giggle, your eyes locked for the first time since the comic shop. He gave you a half smile while a light wash of red colored his cheeks. He was fidgeting with his rings like he would do in most uncomfortable social settings, but not usually with your group. It was hard not to comfort him but you were well aware that you were the reason, so instead you smiled back and turned back to Sam. Not ideal, but it felt a little comforting to know he was in the same boat you were.
Conversation flowed easier after that. Sam insisted that he was getting closer to beating Sebastian at pool, which was denied by everyone else. Abigail ranted about her latest fight with her dad for going out to the Wizard's tower again. Goblin Destroyer had quite a few small shows they were asked to perform at throughout the winter, so you made sure to write those dates into your phone calendar. You had to miss their most recent show because it was your last chance to plant a full pumpkin harvest for Spirit's Eve and you'd been beating yourself up for it. Maybe the worst thing Abigail could've done was asked you if you wanted to hear the fun bits from that night, but you unknowingly said yes thinking you'd just hear about how much the crowd loved the band or the drunk shenanigans of a 40 year old man.
"....Anyway, after the final song I started taking apart my drum kit. I look over and the guys are sitting on the side of the stage and these two girls are almost throwing themselves at them" Abby snickered between bites of food. "They were so cool and pretty I almost warned them about the 45 minutes I was stuck listening to them argue about a plot point in their new Solarian Chronicles campaign on the bus! But then they all went somewhere together so I just kept packing up."
You felt all of the color drain from your face at the emphasis on 'somewhere together,' but you weren't sure why. If they really were so cool and pretty that Abby mentioned it - and Seb went with them. Fuck. That's your best friend. You should be happy for him! Why aren't you happy for him? Why is your stomach in knots?
As confusion and shame bounced in your head, you'd made yourself smaller and started picking at the skin on your fingers. Eyes focused on your hands twisting in your lap.
You didn't realize it, but Abby had been staring at you intensely for a minute.
"Alright. We gotta talk about it."
You peered up through your lashes, now aware that the whole table had been silent too.
"Talk about what?" Your voice came out sincere but barely above a whisper.
"This! Whatever is going on between you two" her eyes flicked back and forth between you and the emo on her side.
Sebastian huffed in annoyance. He was bouncing his leg and staring at the ceiling like he'd rather be anywhere else right now.
"What are you talking about? Nothing is going on" you insisted.
"Bullshit!" she immediately yelled, like she'd been waiting on you to say those exact words.
"Abby, I told you, I don't think they know" the guitarist cut in with a much more gentle tone.
"Don't know what?"
Abby scoffed at your question. You narrowed your eyes at her before turning your attention back.
"Sam, what don't I know?"
The blond looked at Sebastian who was still ignoring everyone's gaze, then turned to you and gave you a pitying side smile. "Henry isn't the first person to assume you two are together."
"Whaaat d'you mean?" Your eyes immediately fixed on Sebastian. His leg bounced even more aggressively as he shot you a look that read 'I don't fucking know either.'
Your eyes went back to Sam's as he spoke. "The other day, I stocking produce at work. Pam was grumbling while rummaging through the pairs I had just stacked" he sighed. "Anyway, so I go over to start fixing them when she's done and she turns to me and starts asking me like what Seb managed to do to get a pretty girl like that? I was lost bro. But then she started in about seeing him in a city and not out with the cows or whatever and I realized she meant you." An awkward laugh left his lips as he looked down at the table for a second. "But I immediately told her that we're all just a big group of friends! Then she mumbled something about me not having two pennies to clink around in my head and walked off."
"What does Pam know? I can't remember the last time the Saloon smelled as strong of beer as she does on a Wednesday morning" the emo puffed from his seat.
"Pam might be a drunk but the rest of Pelican town isn't" Abby sneered at him. "My mom said something about it the other day. Evidently she got the idea from the dance of the moonlight jellies when you two were sitting on the dock resting your heads on each other. Couldn't believe it when I told her you guys were just friends."
"My mom too. She won't ask me how you are anymore unless she's heard you out front while I'm out. She waits for Seb to come over because he always knows more than I do. Heard her muttering something about 'young love' to dad about it the other day."
Your eyes were bulging out of your skull at this point. "Your mom? I see her almost daily on my errands and she's never said anything?"
"Well she figured she'd let you guys talk about it in time or something I'm not sure. Dad came home and thought it was crazy Seb has a girl that looks at him like that and he hasn't 'wifed her up yet.' He dropped it though cause mom yelled at him." Sam awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't look at him like anything?! Seb's just my best friend and your parents are crazy" a high pitched laugh left your voice as you spoke.
"Yeah, that may be true," Abby interjected, "but Leah isn't. She came into the store when I was working the other day and asked me if she'd missed something. I guess he was brought up while you guys were on the dock in the forest and the way you talked about him... she just assumed" she shrugged.
You felt like you were in an alternate reality. Here you were, at dinner with your closest friends being told that the entire town thinks you're dating one of them. Was this all a dream? Did the spaghetti you grabbed from Gus last night not agree with you? A chuckle of disbelief slipped past your lips.
"Okay. Is there anything else? Another case of delusion you can think of?" Your eyes bounced between your friends who were making uncomfortable eye contact.
"Yeah." Sam coughed. "I wasn't sure I was gonna say this but, since neither one of you have taken this well I guess I should." He paused, flicking the guitar pick on his necklace finding the words.
"Spit it out, Samson" Sebastian grunted.
"Okay, okay. You know how Vince has started calling you Uncle to piss you off because he's convinced we're old?"
Sebastian nodded, not seeing where this was heading.
"He asked me on Monday if when you got married if he should start calling her aunt because of the joke, or if that was too mean because of how nice she is to him."
Sebastian stared so hard at Sam that he could've put holes through the poor guy.
"Oh my god" was all you could say. You could feel actual panic sinking into your chest with all of this information. Everyone in the valley really assumed you were dating and you'd never thought of him that way. What were you doing? Were you crazy? Were they crazy? Could you even keep a relationship with him after this knowing that your friendship had been so abnormal it fooled the people who were around you everyday?
Your friends broke the silence again.
"It's not just Henry and it's not that anyone else is wrong" Sam stated.
"Yeah. I mean, can you guys really not see that you act as if you're in a relationship? Like, minus the title and the kissing and fucking, you're there already" Abby let out a nervous laugh.
You made eye contact with them both and could tell she was sincere. They both were. Your friends agreed with everyone else.
Appetite now fully gone, you started collecting your things in any attempt to leave this situation. Sebastian had the same idea and went to the register to go pay for his meal. You dug in your purse in a frenzy to find your wallet so that you could leave a tip and head up front to pay.
"Hey, we didn't mean to upset you." A worried tone coated Sam's words.
"I know you didn't, but what the fuck did you think would happen? I've never thought of Seb that way and I know he hasn't thought of me like that either. And to find out it's the whole valley..." your panic was leading to tears. It wasn't sadness, it was the most overwhelmed and confused you'd ever been.
Finally, you opened your wallet only to realize you didn't have the right bills for an efficient tip. In an attempt to get as far away from tonight as possible, you whispered 'fuck it' to yourself and left what was the equivalent of a 60% tip. You had geodes to open tomorrow so it would be fine. You stood up abruptly, leaving Abby and Sam to murmur amongst themselves at the mess they caused and marched to the register.
Sebastian was standing there still when you made your way over. Tears were beginning to fall silently down your face despite your best efforts to hold them back. The anger you felt at yourself for crying right then only seemed to make it worse. As you approached the staff member with your card in hand, the programmer reached his hand out and place it along your lower back in any attempt to comfort you and pull you in.
"I already paid for us" he mumbled in your ear. "Let's take a breather before they catch up."
You both gave a half hearted smile to the owner as Sebastian whisked you out of the door. Inhaling deeply, the air was sharp in your lungs. Winter wasn't far off and the chill reflected that.
Standing silently side by side, you both took in the city lights and the night time bustle while trying to calm yourselves. Fresh air helping to ease your nausea and lower your heart rate a bit. You hadn't planned on being out this late, your sweater was no match for the climate. Noticing you folding your arms over in an attempt to block out the cold, Sebastian took off his leather jacket and tapped on your shoulders to let him put it on you. You obliged. Normally, you would've argued, insisting that he needed it more. But normally, that was met with him reminding you he had a hoodie and a long sleeve shirt on underneath it, which had been the case every cold outing since your first fall in the valley. He knew you'd miscalculate and he wasn't about to let you freeze.
Once the jacket was secure on your shoulders he resumed his place beside you. In sync, you both looked each other in the eyes. Your tears had slowed but were still falling quietly down your cheeks. Otherwise you were expressionless. So was he. Surveying each other didn't help because neither of you were allowing yourself to be read. All you two had was the assumption that the other's brain was running just as fast as yours was. You took each other in silently until you heard the restaurant door open. You knew it was Abigail and Sam finally coming out to head home, but you held each other's eye for a moment longer. Now that the duo had met up with you, you left for the bus.
Everyone stayed tongue tied on the trek home. After climbing on the bus, you slumped down in your seat and turned your overhead light off. The tension was thick and while you couldn't bare to speak, you also hated that your friends weren't. Opting to put your headphones in and listen to your favorite Spotify playlist on the way home to shut out the tension, you shut your eyes and let your mind run through your feelings as the music lulled you.
Something about Sam and Abby agreeing that you two acted like a couple stuck with you. They spent the most time around you and knew both of you more intimately than anyone else ever did. If everyone already say you as a couple, why didn't you? You remembered repeating the phrase "I've never thought of him like that" throughout the night... maybe you should try? Maybe that was the only way to work this out?
Your mind drifted to your favorite moments shared with him.
Days you'd carve out time to play video games with him in his room, he'd reach over and help you stay alive in the first person shooters you were always dreadful at. How he'd chuckle when he saw you accidentally bomb yourself for the 20th time that day and you'd elbow him to stop. You pictured how he always smiled warmly at you when you did that, even though you always followed it with an eye roll.
It was unspoken that within 5 days before a new growing season, you'd be over in his room while he worked. Notebooks, a calendar and your choice of caffeine sprawled out on his floor while you quietly mapped out where each crop, bee box and sprinkler would be most fruitful. Occasionally you'd grumble, stumped on what the best choice was. He'd always look away from his screen, pull you into his lap and ask you to elaborate on the dilemma before helping you through it. Somehow he always chose correctly.
When he did have downtime in between jobs, he'd come over to your farm to help in whatever way he could. It always ended up with him talking to your animals while you worked, but they all were glued to him so you didn't mind. Afterwards you'd sit on the porch and eat dinner together while the sun set. Talking about new dreams or thoughts on philosophy while you soaked up the last of the sun's warmth together. You swear every time that happened a new freckle would appear on him within a few days, but it didn't happen often so you couldn't confirm.
All it took was a text that you were sick, sore or having a bad mental health day for him to pack up his laptop, his mom's pumpkin soup and be knocking at your door. Despite being a recluse, he rarely got sick so he'd always work in your bed or on your couch with you lying against his side. Stopping anytime you needed water, medicine or to be told that everything would be okay and you'd get through it together. You'd watch tv or youtube when he'd finished while he rubbed your back and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He'd never leave until you woke up and he could see that you were better.
Rainy days spent frog hunting. Watching him light up telling you about the different species you could find throughout the valley. Sometimes they'd have distinct markings and you'd see them multiple times so you'd give them names and lore. The rain making you feel like children again, so you'd start play fighting until one of you was in a puddle, giggling and shouting like second graders the whole time. Robin always shaking her head when you inevitably trudged through her house soaking wet, so you'd both started changing back at the farm first.
Or what was maybe your favorite, when he needed his hair dyed. He never got it perfect when he did it alone, and Sam always made a huge mess of it so it wasn't long after you met that he had asked you to help. It was a frequent occurrence because he'd actually rather die than be perceived as a ginger. Whether it was your bathroom or his changed, but the routine stayed the same. You were always wearing his oldest band t -shirts together, you sitting on the sink laser focused on not missing a spot while music blasted. If you wanted your hair done too, he'd of course help you afterwards and go so slowly to make sure it was as perfect as you always did his. It always felt so intimate and you never failed to take note of how much softer and relaxed his features were in that moment than when you were out with others.
Your stomach fluttered but not from nausea this time. It was butterflies. Fuck. Of course it was. How did you not know how you felt about him? Remembering how you'd go out of your way to make him smile every chance you got. His first birthday as your friend, you spent money you didn't have on a sword upgrade to find obsidian because the usual frozen tear simply wouldn't do. The way your heart felt like it was doing a back flip anytime he looked at you, and had even when he asked you "of all places, why would you move here?"
Okay. So you did like him, but that doesn't mean he felt the same way.
You opened your eyes upon feeling the bus come to a halt. You realized you were already back at the bus stop by your farm, guessing that the trip went so quickly because of how hard you'd been thinking. You grabbed your things, stood up and waved a rushed goodbye to your friends before heading home. You hated to leave so coldly but your mind was a whirlwind right now and you had so much to untangle. Sebastian wasn't far behind in leaving for the mountain, which left Abby and Sam to walk each other home and talk about how worried they were for the friendship now that this was out.
Once you'd shut the barns up to keep your animals safe for the night, you unlocked the door to your house and picked up your cat. Burying your face in her fur for comfort helped ground you a little bit. After a couple of kisses, you plopped her down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. Your music was still helping to combat your mind from going haywire, so you opted to keep your headphones in as you padded to your bedroom to change from the cute outfit you'd planned out for two weeks in favor of something more comfortable. Grabbing your comfort hoodie - it was old merch from your favorite artist - and a pair of sweatpants from your dresser, your mind began to drift back to that question you left unanswered as you pulled back into Pelican Town.
Does he feel the same way about me?
You began to replay those favorite moments in your mind again, searching him for clues one way or the other.
As you began to change, you remembered how when he'd help you stay alive in a video game, he was so gentle with you. After he'd succeeded in stopping your demise, his arms always lingered longer than they needed to. Okay. Coincidence.
You headed to the bathroom to brush your hair that was in knots after being out on such a windy day. Thinking back, he'd never complained about you setting up camp in his room to do planning you easily could've done in your own living room? Maybe that was because it operated as body doubling. But he always pulled you into his lap if you needed help. You couldn't think of an excuse for it so you counted it as a point towards reciprocation.
Leaving the bathroom, you made your way into the kitchen to give your cat her nightly treat. As you sat on the floor with her favorite puree in hand, you pondered how many of his off days he had spent helping at your farm. He hated the sun and had no idea what he was doing, but he never complained. Looking at your cat licking away at the treat, you decided that it wasn't you he was coming over for, it was definitely the sweet lives that roamed your property. I mean of course it was, look at this one.
But what about when you were sick? You didn't even know how to begin to write that one off. Maybe just being a good friend? But it was every time you told him something was wrong enough that you could only feed your animals before getting back into bed. Even if he couldn't get out of work, he went through the effort of bringing it with him. Okay, another tally.
By now, the treat was gone and you'd been petting the little lady for a while. You stood up from the floor and began filling your water bottle and grabbing a snack for when you crawled into bed. Frog hunting was easy to discredit, that was just two friends enjoying nature together and being a little silly. Okay, it's 2 to 3 right now.
As you headed to your bed to take your dishes to your nightstand, yours and Seb's favorite song came on your playlist. The one you always scream sang together when it played. You giggled as you remembered dramatically acting out the lyrics in your kitchen while you made sashimi. That was the last time you'd dyed his hair. Setting your water bottle down by your bed, you remembered how the last three times you'd helped him, he kept staring at your lips and making you think you had something in your teeth. Each time you'd discreetly check and you never did, but it was weird enough you noticed it. In the following nights you'd been reading Elliott's second novel before bed and the main character did this before kissing his love interest. He didn't want to kiss you, did he?
You started to climb into bed and follow that thought when you remembered you'd forgotten to take your makeup off. Begrudgingly, you crawled back out and started to head towards the bathroom again. The song was reaching the climax before the bridge that was always your favorite part as walked through the living room towards your destination. Your eyes landed on a doll that you had bought yourself because Jas owned her best friend and she loved coming over and playing pretend with you when you weren't busy. You stopped dead in your tracks as you stared at the toy. It felt like someone had punched you in the gut.
You were immediately taken back to the end of summer. The two of you had spent the evening after work and school twirling in your sundresses in the forest like you were fairies. Jas asked you if you'd help her with her evening animal chores before heading home and you were never one to tell her no unless you had to. While you were brushing one of Marnie's cows, you remember Jas had asked you a question that you now realized you misunderstood. You thought the question came from the fact that Vince was still young and tormented Jas more than he should, but that wasn't the case.
"Do you think when we're older and grown up that Vincent will be my Sebastian?"
She had asked you with such a shy smile you weren't soon how you didn't understand this sooner. Jas was like your little sister, you should've known that she isn't normally shy about anything around you. She was also incredibly observant. This was the tipping point. There was no way this wasn't a fever dream.
Taking off your makeup could wait. You needed to go for a walk.
You threw on your farm boots so any mud from recent rain wasn't something to worry about and hurried out the door.
You began to take the shortcut from the farm to the mountains like usual when your brain was spinning, but then stopped. Realizing if Sebastian was going through half of what you were, he'd be smoking at the lake and he needed his space too. You turned on your heel and decided the beach was where you'd go to figure this out instead.
Your pace was almost a speed walk, itching to sit down and sort through the tangled wires that were whatever the fuck this mess was of a relationship with your best friend.
Finally, you saw sand. Waves crashing down flooded your ears, telling the story of a storm that hadn't yet hit the valley. Careful not to make too much commotion and wake the writer that inhabited the run down cabin, you crept across the small wooden bridge to the secluded beach across a stream. It was pitch black out save for the moon illuminating the ocean. You turned your phone flashlight on to make sure you were avoiding the tide pools. As you made your way down the dock, you saw a small glow of orange coming from a figure sitting at the end of it. Occupied, great.
You started to turn and walk away when you heard a clear "Hey!" coming from the person you'd interrupted. Turning back towards the ocean you realized the glow was a cigarette and you knew the voice you'd just heard. Even better, it's the person you're in a frenzy over.
You made your way down the ancient wooden slats until you were standing next to where he was sitting, dangling his legs off the side.
"You look cute" smoke left his mouth as he spoke, looking up at you.
Remembering that you were going for bedtime panic and not style, you snorted. "Suuure, thanks. It's the boots, isn't it?"
He smiled and shook his head, the smoke exiting his nose this time. "You been thinking?"
"Yeah. Since we left Zuzu. You?"
"'Course. Hard not to when your friends hit you with something like that" he looked up at you, a soft smile creeping across his lips. "Figure anything out?"
You closed the space between you and plopped down next to him, crossing your ankles and pulling your knees up under your chin. "Well, I knew, and then I didn't know. Then I thought I knew, but I didn't know, so I was thinking, and now I think I know but I'm still not really sure" a tired laugh left your chest after you spoke.
Laughing with you, he shook his head and began putting his cigarette out. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."
A comfortable silence found its way to the two of you again as you sat and watched the ocean. You weren't sure what was right or wrong to say here. It felt like your friendship was at jeopardy but also, like nothing was ever wrong to begin with. That old feeling of ease you felt whenever you were with him washed over you regardless of the stakes at hand.
You decided there was no more point in putting it off. You'd been out in a position you didn't think was possible 12 hours ago. Now that you were here, you couldn't see it as a valid reason to start omitting things from him. That alone would change your friendship from what it had been forever.
"I think I know how I feel. No, I know that I know how I feel." You felt so shaky despite managing to sound so confident in your statement. "I'm just not sure about the rest. I remembered something Jas said to me that has me thinking I know the rest but... that's not enough to convince me I'm right."
The emo looked down at you and smiled. Softly, he said "an elementary schooler is where you're finding your strongest sources of evidence?"
"Shut up" you giggled. "Just because she's quiet around you and everyone else ever doesn't mean you should discard her thoughts. She's incredibly intelligent and observant" you poked back.
"I'm not discarding her. Just thought with everything else that her being your biggest form of proof was funny, s'all." He let out a soft, warm chuckle. "I know how I feel too. I have a guess about the rest but my basis of reason is fully in my head alone and not from the mouth of a child," he teased, "so it could just be delusion."
"I would say that you aren't delusional, but after today I can't confidently say that about anyone" you laughed.
It's too late to turn back now. Might as well put everything out on the table.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Always, angel. What's up?"
You paused. "Remember the last time we dyed your hair?"
He snorted and looked away from you, choosing to stare at the waves instead.
"Did I say something wrong?" you felt anxiety ping at your chest. Were you wrong? Should you shut up now?
"No, no" he hushed you. "It's just crazy for you to bring that night up." He looked away again, swallowing a deep breath. "When you showed up here, I was thinking about you sitting in front of me on the counter, so focused on making sure I looked good. Wearing one of my old shirts mouthing the words to our playlist. Your lashes were fluttering as you looked up at me and just -" he choked on a breath. "Fuck dude. It just hit me like, yeah. Actually I know how I feel."
His head turned to look the opposite way of you and started lightly tapping out a rhythm against the dock. The hard part was over for you, but not him. He had no idea what you were about to say and even though you knew he was anxious he was trying not to show it.
You put your legs down and leaned closer to him, the added feeling of you making him turn back towards you.
"I think that night is why I know too."
He blinked back at you. "You mean lik-"
"I was thinking about that night - those nights - while we were on the bus." You realized you were speaking so fast and tried to slow your words. "I don't know, I just never realized how intimate and I guess right they feel? You don't let anyone near you even emotionally, and then there I am. Helping you with something that makes you feel like who you are, bodies borderline intertwined because I need to make sure I get it all dyed. And you always look down at me with this look on your face and when I think about it my stomach flutters and"
Your frenzy was cut off by the realization of how close your faces had gotten. Sebastian was straight faced, locking your eyes with his dark brown ones. Your noses were brushing against each other as he spoke.
"It's happening again" he muttered plainly.
"Huh?" came out as a squeak from your throat.
"I don't think I knew it fully," he inched closer to you. When he spoke again his lips were ghosting against yours "I think I've wanted to kiss you for a while."
"But you still haven't done it" you whispered back.
Your lips met in a soft, tender kiss. It felt treacherous, yet like this was where you had always belonged. Sebastian reached up and cupped below your ear with his hand, thumb rubbing your temple while he deepened the kiss. You grabbed his arm and your other hand searched for his free one, locking fingers when you found it. When you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead on his, giggling. He smiled back at you. Both of you went to speak and just ended up kissing again, unsure of why this felt so right and how you'd went so long without doing it.
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The day before Spirit's Eve had you feeling like you needed to be everywhere, all at once. You had to drop off last minute supplies to Abby for your costumes. Lewis had told you that the Wizard did in fact need more pumpkins so you needed to get them fully harvested and ready to be dropped off the next morning. Jas needed last minute opinions on which costume she wanted to wear which would entail an entire fashion show and you promised Willy a fresh Salmon before the snow hit which was 3 days away.
You weren't sure how, but you'd managed to pull it all off by the time the sun set, leaving plenty of room to fulfill your last obligation; dying your boyfriend's hair. You'd noticed an orange twinge when you were out by the lake yesterday and there was no way he was going to the festival looking like that.
You'd already changed into an old shirt he'd left in your room when his motorcycle rumbled in front of the farmhouse. The engine cut, then there was a familiar voice saying hello to your cat. He headed to your room to change into more suitable clothes in case any dye got on them, while you hooked up the speaker and hit play on your shared playlist. Instantly, your ears were filled with the sound of that favorite song, the same one that had been so pivotal in bringing you two together.
You hopped up to your seat on the counter and called out "Sebby!"
He padded into the bathroom, face softening to that same expression that you now knew was love when he entered the doorway and saw you.
"Yeah, babe?"
"I think now's your chance" you teased.
He laughed and made his way against you, leaning down for a kiss. "Yeah, I think it is."
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rhosyn-du · 2 months ago
Text
The Case of the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dates, chapter 1
Dead Boy Detectives/The Sandman crossover | Jenny Green/Johanna Constantine | Explicit | WIP
Tags for this chapter: Case Fic, Strangers to Lovers, Casual Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Panic Attacks
Link on AO3
For the @sandman-rarepair-fest prompts Strangers to Lovers, AU/Crossover, and Femslash
Summary:
Jenny didn't leave her flat planning to have a semi-public anonymous hookup. She was supposed to be having drinks—and hopefully sex—with a woman she met through a dating app Crystal talked her into downloading—"I'm not saying you should go out looking for your soulmate; I'm just saying maybe you'd feel better if you got laid. Have you even relaxed for five minutes since you got off the plane?"—but Natalya hadn't shown up at the pub she suggested they meet at. But there there was a pretty brunette at the bar with a cocky smirk and a foul mouth who turned out to be every bit as hot as she was annoying and also extremely down for a quick fuck in the restroom and absolutely nothing more than that. Which is probably for the best, Jenny figures. Someone who isn't interested enough to take her home or even ask her name is far less likely to turn out to be a grifter or a control freak or a stalker with homicidal tendencies.
The last thing Jenny wants or needs is to get dragged into another one of the Dead Boy Detective Agency’s cases. Unfortunately, the universe has it out for her. At least the sex is good?
Public restrooms are nicer in London than in Port Townsend. Jenny's been told with a startling amount of vehemence by multiple people that they're nicer all over the UK than anywhere in the States, but she hasn't exactly done a personal survey of the country. Even with her limited experience of public restrooms—toilets, she thinks inanely; they're called toilets here—she can definitely say she's never been tempted to have sex in the toilet of a sketchy pub before.
"Your jeans are too damned tight," the woman whose name Jenny didn't bother asking complains between heated kisses.
"You seemed plenty happy with them when you were checking out my ass," Jenny points out, pausing in her quest to unfasten the truly stupid number of tiny buttons on the woman's shirt to help unfasten her own jeans.
Jenny didn't leave her flat planning to have a semi-public anonymous hookup. She was supposed to be having drinks—and hopefully sex—with a woman she met through a dating app Crystal talked her into downloading—"I'm not saying you should go out looking for your soulmate; I'm just saying maybe you'd feel better if you got laid. Have you even relaxed for five minutes since you got off the plane?"—but Natalya hadn't shown up at the pub she suggested they meet at. But there there was a pretty brunette at the bar with a cocky smirk and a foul mouth who turned out to be every bit as hot as she was annoying and also extremely down for a quick fuck in the restroom and absolutely nothing more than that. Which is probably for the best, Jenny figures. Someone who isn't interested enough to take her home or even ask her name is far less likely to turn out to be a grifter or a control freak or a stalker with homicidal tendencies.
And it's extremely unlikely Natalya would have been this talented with her fingers, holy fuck. Jenny makes a noise she's not at all proud of, head falling back against the wall of the toilet stall as the woman works her clit with deft fingers that don't seem at all hindered by the tightness of her jeans.
"Knew you'd be loud once I got you going," the woman says smugly, urging one of Jenny's legs up over her hip to give her better access.
Jenny wants to argue, but she's really not in any position for it, so she settles for unceremoniously pulling open the last of the buttons on the woman's shirt and finally getting her hands on her tits while doing her best to bite back the sounds she wants to be making.
The woman pushes into Jenny's touch with a pleased hum. "That wasn't a complaint, to be clear." She leans in, their difference in height being just enough to put her lips against Jenny's throat, over the racing beat of her pulse, as she says, "Let me hear you."
"Are you trying to get us kicked out?" Jenny asks even as she shifts her weight so that her own thigh is pressed firmly between the other woman's, and her thumbs brush over stiff nipples.
"Not gonna happen," the woman gasps, rolling her hips eagerly against Jenny's thigh. "The owner owes me."
Any attempt Jenny might have made to ask what exactly the owner owes is completely derailed by the woman sliding two of those clever fingers inside Jenny's cunt as she scrapes her teeth along Jenny's neck in sharp counterpoint. There's no hope of keeping quiet then, not with the woman's fingers inside her while her thumb works her clit, alternating sloppy kisses and sharp nips and sharper curses against Jenny's throat while she rides Jenny's thigh like it's her fucking job.
It's quick and it's frenzied and it's nothing at all like most of the sex Jenny has had in her life. It's also kind of amazing. She tilts her head down so she can capture that filthy mouth with her own, and then lets herself get lost in the slick slide of fingers and tongues, in the frantic rutting and the desperate, grasping pleasure that rises in her like a tidal wave: inevitable and devastating.
Jenny screams when she comes, not even caring anymore who might hear, especially with the woman gasping a litany of fuck, fuck, fuck as she works Jenny through the aftershocks, her own hips starting to stutter. Jenny has just enough piece of mind to grab the woman by the hips, pulling her tight against her thigh as she shudders through her own orgasm moments later.
They stay like that for a few moments as they catch their breath. Just as Jenny is starting to feel the faintest twinges of awkwardness—Do you kiss after a toilet stall hookup? Is that a thing? Should she say thank you? What's the etiquette here?—the woman pulls back with a soft laugh.
"Fuck, I needed that."
Jenny's agreement turns into a gasp as the woman pulls her fingers from Jenny's cunt, seeming to consider for half a second before popping them into her mouth and sucking them clean.
Jenny realizes she's staring and quickly looks away, busying herself with the process of refastening her jeans and making some vague attempt and straightening her clothes so she doesn't look quite so much like she just got extremely well-fucked by a complete stranger.
When she looks up again, the woman is fastening the last of the buttons on her shirt, looking far less flustered than Jenny feels.
"Right," Jenny says. "I'm gonna—" She gestures toward the exit. "Thanks," she adds, and then she leaves before she can find out if that was entirely the wrong thing to say.
She feels a brief moment of relief when she heads back out into the pub and the woman behind the bar doesn't give her a second glance—maybe she hadn't been quite so loud as she thought?—but then she sees how the three women at the table closest to the restroom are looking at her, and she ducks her head and hightails it out into the comforting blanket of fog that feels almost like home if she doesn't look or listen too closely.
She's halfway back to her flat before she realizes that she really does feel better, and much less tense than she has been since she arrived in London four months ago. Maybe even less tense than she's felt since before she watched the woman trying to kill her die a gruesome death in front of her and got possessed by a literal demon and watched her livelihood go up in flames and, oh yeah, started seeing ghosts.
Dammit.
Crystal is going to be so fucking smug when she finds out she was right.
~~~
"I take it the date went well?”
Briana is usually Jenny's favorite coworker, partly because she mixes a better drink than any other bartender Jenny's met, and partly because she doesn't usually ask about Jenny's personal life.
"It wasn't a date," Jenny says, reaching for her apron. "And anyway, she didn't show."
Briana studies her. "But you did have a good time last night." It's not a question.
"A better time than I'm having right now," Jenny tells her, pulling on her hair net.
Jenny is extremely grateful when Briana's questioning is interrupted by the arrival of their boss, who greets them with his ever-friendly smile.
"Ah, Jenny, do you have a minute before you start? I wanted to talk some scheduling with you."
"Sure thing," Jenny says, happily abandoning Briana and her prying in favor of following Rob back to the office.
When the insurance rep told Jenny exactly how long it was likely to take before she saw any money from the destruction of her butcher shop, she'd been livid. That lasted about an hour, until she realized she was in an unfamiliar city—an unfamiliar country—with no money to start fresh like she planned and exactly no experience working for anyone other than herself and before that her parents, at which point it turned to mild panic. When Edwin mentioned that the agency's landlord also owned a pub and had mentioned something about needing to hire new back of house staff, Jenny was extremely dubious. Not only was working a kitchen very different from running a butcher shop, but she was more than a little wary about working for the kind of guy who rented office space to a couple of teenage ghosts.
But Rob turned out to be a decent guy, and almost freakishly normal from everything Jenny's seen. He inherited the New Inn along with the building Charles and Edwin—and now Crystal—work out of and a few other properties from his favorite uncle, but that's the most remarkable thing about him other than the whole seeing and talking to ghosts thing, and she's hardly going to hold nearly drowning as a child against him. The man is a part-time history lecturer at City University and wears loafers, so Jenny figures he's pretty low on the list of people likely to drag her into more supernatural weirdness or attempted homicide, and he pays her better than she's probably worth given her lack of experience.
All in all, it's a pretty good deal, especially since Rob knows she'll be gone as soon as her insurance money comes through and she can find a decent shop space to rent.
Jenny stops dead in her tracks when she sees the two people already waiting in Rob's office.
"No," she says flatly, addressing the two ghosts—one leaning against the office wall and the other perched on the edge of Rob's desk—before turning on her boss. "What the hell, Rob? You said you wanted to talk about scheduling."
It's not that she has anything against Charles and Edwin, but Crystal's two ghost friends are private detectives who take jobs for other ghosts, and the fact that they're ambushing her at work suggests this isn't a social call. The last thing she wants is to get caught up in one of their cases. Again.
"This is about scheduling," Edwin says, "in part."
"We need an assist on our latest case and Robbie's got a friend with the right kind of skills," Charles adds.
"I figure it'll be safer for everyone involved if I make the introduction at the Inn." Rob's tone is apologetic. "You're the only one on staff unlikely to get freaked out if anyone gets shouty about things, so I was wondering if you'd mind closing up tonight so I can invite her over and make the introduction after close. I know you're only scheduled until ten, but I'm happy to pay you double for the extra hours."
"I don't mind closing," Jenny says, "but what's the catch?"
"No catch, I swear," Rob says, holding up his hands. "I wouldn't even ask, but I've got an early lecture tomorrow and would rather not be up prepping the kitchen by myself after I introduce the boys to my friend."
Despite the revelation that Rob apparently has a friend with skills to help Charles and Edwin on one of their cases, Jenny doesn't get the sense that he's trying to deceive her in any way.
She looks at Edwin. "You said 'in part.' So what's the catch."
"Ah," Edwin says, sliding off the desk. "It's not a catch, per se."
"Eds," Charles chides softly. "What he means is, we've got a message for you. From our client."
Jenny feels the bottom of her stomach drop out. "Your client?" she repeats. Their client can only mean another ghost. Someone who died.
"Natalya Mesi," Edwin says. "She wants you to know that she's very sorry for missing your appointment last night, but she was quite dead by then."
~~~
Rob is nice enough to give Jenny some privacy and a very stiff drink—on the house—after Charles and Edwin leave. She goes through the remainder of her shift in a daze, glad that the dinner rush doesn't prove to be too much for her distracted mind to handle and that Eoin doesn't comment on her much more frequent than usual minor fuckups. Jenny decides he's her new favorite coworker.
Crystal arrives just before closing, slipping back to the kitchen to give Jenny a quick, fierce hug.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and Jenny knows she's apologizing as much for pushing Jenny to download the dating app in the first place as expressing condolences for the death of a non-quite-acquaintance.
"I didn't even know her," Jenny says when Crystal releases her. "Not really."
"I'm still sorry," Crystal insists. "You didn't want to be involved in any of our cases, and I got you involved, sort of, so I'm sorry."
"If I were that worried about it, I would have stayed in Port Townsend," Jenny points out, as if staying in Port Townsend with the memories of Niko and Maxine and her parents and her shop and every person and every dream she's ever lost wouldn't have been a complete nightmare. But. She didn't have to come to London.
Crystal squeezes her arms and offers her a weak smile. "I'm glad you're here."
It's a slow enough night that there are no stragglers by the time closing rolls around, and Eoin is out the door in time for Rob to lock up behind him. Rob says something about his friend running late, and Jenny tries to ignore the two living humans and two ghosts talking quietly at a table in the corner while she cleans the grill and wipes down the counters and refills the condiment bottles, but her eyes keep drifting over to the only people who know the answer to the question that's been plaguing her since that afternoon. The question she didn't have the courage to ask at the time.
She makes it halfway through refilling the salt shakers before stalking over to the table and demanding, "How did Natalya die?"
The four at the table look up at her and then exchange uneasy glances with each other.
"We aren't exactly sure about that yet," Charles says. "That's sort of what we're investigating."
"But you know something," Jenny presses. "That's why you're here to meet Rob's friend, right? Because you found something you need help with?"
"We could be wrong, though," Crystal says. "And it's not anything you need to worry about—"
"All signs point to demonic activity," Rob interrupts, and Jenny is grateful to him for saying it even as the room starts to go fuzzy around the edges.
"The woman I was supposed to meet for drinks was murdered by a demon?" Jenny hardly recognizes her own voice, high-pitched and squeaky as it is.
"We don't know that a demon did the actual killing," Edwin explains, "but we're fairly certain a demon was involved. Your friend is actually quite lucky. A demon could have done far worse than kill her."
"She wasn't my friend," Jenny says faintly, grabbing for a nearby chair to keep herself upright before her knees give out completely.
She misses, and only Rob's quick reflexes save her from falling on her ass.
"I got you," he says as he hoists her with surprising strength into the chair she'd failed to grab onto. "Just breathe. You're safe. No demons here, I promise."
Jenny does her best to follow his instruction to breathe, trying to force her lungs to expand and contract in some sort of regular rhythm. It's not the first panic attack she's had in the past six months. It's not the tenth. But every one is as awful as the last.
She has no idea how long she spends struggling to calm her heart, her lungs, her mind, only that she's only just managed to start feeling like an actual person again when she's startled by the sound of the bells over the tavern's entrance. Which makes no sense, because didn't Rob lock the door?
Dazedly, Jenny looks up only to find the very last person she's expecting to see. She blinks her eyes several times, but the image doesn't change.
"Damn exorcism ran long," the woman says, shrugging out of her pale coat.
This time, Jenny notes a little hysterically, the shirt underneath doesn't have any of those absurd tiny buttons.
"Demons are not terribly respectful of your time, are they?" Rob says wryly. "These are the tenants I was telling you about. Charles, Edwin, and Crystal of the Dead Boy Detective Agency. And this is Jenny, who's on staff here at the New Inn.
“Everyone, this is Johanna Constantine. If you've a demon problem, she's the best person I can think of to help you solve it."
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writing-for-marvel · 2 years ago
Text
Short of Breath
[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]
Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader
< < PART 1 | Series Masterlist | PART 3 > >
Summary: You hear rumours about Bucky’s reputation within the hospital just prior to him taking you on a first date you’ll never forget.
Warnings: strictly 18+ only, oral (fem receiving), mentioned unprotected vaginal sex, some light angst (I mean it’s me, what do you expect?), Bucky having a reputation as a heartbreaker, but also him being super sweet and planning a very cute date, additional warning for my terrible flirty dialogue
Word count: 4.6k
A/N: square filled for @sebastianstanbingo ‘picnic date’ (shhh that’s meant to be a surprise), banners by @vase-of-lilies
Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library
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‘Does 6:30 sound good? I’ll pick you up from the hospital lobby.’
Your stomach flutters with butterflies as your phone vibrates with a new message, the name Bucky bookended with blue hearts flashing in your notifications. An inexorable smile overcomes your features as you instantly message him back confirming your availability.
Gosh, when was the last time you were both this excited and nervous to go on a date?
“Well don’t you look smitten.” A friendly voice mentions from beside you. Wanda, a fellow resident and currently just about your only friend in your new workplace, leans against the lockers next to yours, gazing at you with raised brows, as if to silently ask why you’re so enamoured with whoever your messaging.
“I’ve got a date tomorrow night with an absolute beefcake.”
“Oh, is it that attending who’s been giving you all the good cases?” You stare down at your phone when it buzzes yet again, smiling when you notice Bucky has reacted to your message with a heart.
“No, it’s not Odinson.” A chuckle leaves your lips as Wanda frowns, almost looking disappointed it’s not a Thor you’re going out with.
“I always thought he was sexy, you know in a chiselled like a god with a gentle heart sort of way.” There’s a dreamy quality to her voice which makes you suspect she’s thought about having unethical relations in this hospital with him before. “Who is it then?”
“He’s a paramedic. I met him the other day when the train derailed. His name’s Bucky.” The joy you could perceive in Wanda’s eyes changes to something closer to dismay.
“Oh sweetie, you poor naive young thing.” You’re unsure why her voice is now filled with consolation, but it makes your chest tighten and the bottom of your stomach drop.
“What are you talking about?”
“Bucky Barnes has earned a bit of a reputation around this hospital.” You can sense in her voice she’s hesitant of revealing too much, trying to break the news gently to spare your feelings.
You aren’t an idiot, Bucky was quite clearly a natural flirt, that was evident from your interaction in the ER the other day, but by no means does that make him a bad person or someone to stay away from.
“He loves the chase. But that all ends the moment you sleep with him.” Wanda continues, discerning that she hasn’t provided enough information to convince you. “He’ll wine and dine you, and take you back to your place if you’re willing to put out on the first date. Then the only time you’ll see him again is across the room when he’s bringing patients into the ER.”
Your heart sinks below your stomach. You don’t want to believe petty rumours about someone you barely know, but it’s hard to look past the fact that someone as gorgeous and charming as Bucky isn’t already taken. Wanda also has no reason to lie to you, in fact, she’s likely the only person in the hospital you’d trust in this position.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience…” Your voice trails off, eyes trailing to the floor and out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda slump in response.
“Not me personally, but I’ve heard first hand stories from other doctors and nurses.” Her hand finds your shoulder in a reassuring touch. You must not be doing a good job of hiding the disappointment drowning your lungs. “Still go - at a minimum you’ll get laid. Just don’t get your hopes up that there will be anything beyond that. There is nothing wrong with you sweetie, no one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.”
You shut your locker slowly, feeling completely demoralised compared to the swelling hope and joyful mood you had arrived at the hospital with.
Maybe you could be the one who changed him? Was that a foolish fantasy destined to end in heartbreak?
Determined to not let this piece of news ruin the rest of your day, you hold your head high as you start your rounds, heading firstly to see Sasha and her mom. Just because Bucky didn’t want more than a one night stand with some other hospital employees doesn’t mean it will be the same with you.
There was no denying you both felt something as you were patching him up earlier in the week. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to figure out if that something is just attraction, or destined for so much more.
* * *
Fiddling with the ends of your dress, you stand waiting for Bucky in the hospital lobby, feeling more nervous than excited after your conversation with Wanda the previous day. Unsure about what Bucky had planned for the night, you chose to wear something you shined with confidence in, guessing that’s something the self assured Bucky Barnes would appreciate.
Trying to push any anxious thoughts to the back of your mind, you instead choose to remind yourself Bucky was the one who gave you his phone number, he’s the one who asked you on this date. He wants you.
Just prior to 6:30, before you’ve even had the chance to glance at your phone, anxious about if Bucky is actually going to show, you hear your name called across the foyer. Looking up, you find the most handsome, staggeringly beautiful man walking towards you and you swear your heart skips a beat.
The first thing you notice about Bucky's appearance is that trademark smirk you’d found yourself missing the past few days. That same grin which had your cheeks heating and butterflies fluttering in your stomach in the emergency room, elicits the same reaction now as he strides towards you in a blue button up which makes his eyes shine like sapphires.
“You clean up nice.” You comment, seizing the opportunity to take all of him in, to appreciate just how broad and strong he is, even in civilian clothes.
“Not as nice as you do.” Grabbing your hands out wide, he makes a show of looking you up and down as you had done with him, but instead much more conspicuously, and in a way that has confidence soaring in your chest. “You’re breathtaking.” This motherfucker knows exactly what he’s doing, you think as a bashful smile overtakes you’re features.
Bucky then pulls you in for a quick, friendly hug before leading you out to the carpark with the promise of taking you to a place you probably aren’t expecting to go for a first date.
He stops by a motorbike and offers you a helmet and his leather jacket, and for a split second you have to hold back laughter, thinking he is joking.
“You’re a paramedic, surely you know better than anyone how dangerous these things are!” You comment as Bucky straddles what you assume he refers to as his prize possession. You must admit it is a gorgeous motorcycle - polished to perfection, and Bucky somehow looks even more attractive with his thick thighs spread around the heavy bike.
“I promise to drive safely as long as you promise to hold on tight.” Bucky quips as you take the helmet and jacket. You’re going to be able to shamelessly feel more of him a lot earlier on in this date than you were expecting, but you’re certainly not mad about it.
You straddle the bike behind him, and though there is ample space for you to both fit, you snuggle close to his back, hands finding his hips to steady yourself as he starts the ignition. Once Bucky drives onto the main highway, you’re clinging tightly to his firm middle, fearful about the lack of a barrier between you and the unforgiving asphalt surface of the road.
Your anxiety is short lived as Bucky soon takes a turn to a part of town you’ve not been to before, and soon pulls over to a quiet, non-distinct park which you have to admit you aren’t expecting.
“This place is a hidden gem of this city, I love to come here to clear my head.” Bucky comments as he guides you past the trees and once you step foot into the clearing beyond, you can understand why he’s brought you here.
The riverbank overlooks the city skyline, with a perfect view of where the sun will be setting and the light warm orange and pink hues painting the night sky. Bucky gazes at you with a sweet smile, as you take in the scene, leading you over to a red and white chequered picnic blanket already set up to seat two, with a bottle of sparkling water and a basket of finger food ready to be consumed.
Damn, he really is going to a lot of effort for you.
“You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?” You take a seat on the blanket, looking around to notice that you’re completely on your own. You’re unsure whether this fact should surprise you, if Bucky had a hand in ensuring that you’d have your privacy for your first date, or if it’s purely a happy coincidence.
“Well I am trying to impress you.”
“Eh, I think you could do better.” You jest, when in fact you admire how much effort he’s gone to for you. He loves the chase, Wanda’s words echo in your mind, and a small, hollow void in your chest feels jealous that the gorgeous Bucky Barnes has treated any number of other women to a comparable date.
“Well I haven’t kissed you yet, just you wait, you'll be putty in my hands.” He says with a pure faith which compels you to believe him, though also makes you wonder just how many other girls he’s kissed merely by using that same line.
“Confident, are we?”
“Once you kiss me, you won’t want to kiss anyone else, I promise you.” You’re positive that even just a single kiss from Bucky Barnes will have you addicted, if you aren’t already, which is why you take a sip of your sparkling water instead of leaning closer than your faces are already. Perhaps you’re a cynic, maybe you don’t want to open your heart to the prospect of being hurt, but you’re not going to just give into his charms within the first five minutes of this date because he’s cute and has a way with words.
“You’ll have to earn a kiss from me first, James.” You say but are met with a cheeky grin. He loves the chase, and you’re pretty sure this challenge is only adding more fuel to the fire of his motivation.
Conversation flows easily, the only silence between the two of you comfortable as you tried the diversity of foods Bucky had packed. Amid the shameless flirting, he asked you about your home, and what prompted your change of cities. He told you all about his childhood best friend Steve, who you could have mistaken for his brother with the pure love he spoke about him with.
The only question he wasn’t forthcoming with an answer was when you asked about why he became a paramedic. Though, you understand there are sensitive matters Bucky wouldn’t want to discuss with someone on a first date, so you don’t push the subject, choosing to instead change the topic to something where you know will bring out his contagious smile you’re quickly falling for.
As the sun sets, an ombré of vibrant oranges, reds and pinks decorates the sky, and you have the perfect view sitting on the riverbank opposite the city centre. You feel content, happy, and though the sight is gorgeous, you know it mostly has to do with the man sitting next to you.
“I can see why you like it here, this is beautiful.” You comment, eyes soaking in the stunning scene, noting this moment in the part of your brain that stores influential moments, those that you want to remember for a lifetime. However, you can sense Bucky’s attention beside you isn’t focussed where yours is as he speaks.
“I think I’ve got a better view right here.” You turn back to find Bucky looking at you with an affection you wouldn’t typically associate with someone sharing a first date, yet the undeniable fondness is there nonetheless. The softness and earnestness in his voice could fool you into thinking he truly does mean the sentiment, and it’s not just a pickup line.
“That’s so cheesy, Barnes. You take all your girls here at sunset and pull that line on them?” You immediately regret your choice of words - even if he had, you don’t want to know if he’s done all this for someone else, this moment between you feels special, magical, and you’d rather believe the tale that you’re the only one he’s shared this with.
“Nope, not a single one.” His voice is low and honest, with a level of desperation to make you believe him. “And even if I had, I’d have never meant it more.” His hand tenderly cups your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek, as you lean into him. The warmth his touch provides welcome in the cooling night.
“You really are something else, aren’t you James?” There’s a flicker in his features when you refer to him by his first name, an indication that you're not joking as you do when you use his last name or sometimes the adorable childhood nickname he’s known to everyone else by, rather, he knows you’re being authentic.
“I think that’s you, darling.” Bucky murmurs, brushing his thumb this time over your bottom lip. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation of his long awaited touch after craving it sitting across from him throughout the night. “Never met anyone like you. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.”
He makes it too damn hard to resist him, and instead of spending energy enduring the space between you, you decide it’s time to surrender to what your body wants.
Bucky watches intently as you move the picnic basket, which was dividing the blanket in half, and move over to his side, which seems much more limited for space with his large frame.
“So I recall you mentioning something about a kiss…” You lean forward, expecting Bucky to meet you halfway, but to your surprise and disappointment he tilts further away from you.
“You sure I’ve earned it yet?” He teases, not even able to keep his own small chuckle from leaving his lips. Your stomach flips as you anticipate what’s about to happen next.
“Why don’t you come here and find out?”
Without missing another beat, Bucky grabs either side of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. You can feel the blood rushing through your ears with how nervous and excited you are to be finally giving in to what you have been yearning to do since seeing him carry Sasha into the ER.
As his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his dominant hands move down to your thighs and lift you from your place next to him to straddling his stocky thighs.
You hate to admit it, but he was right.
You are putty in his hands.
And the longer the kiss lasts, the more certain you are that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the only man you ever want to kiss again.
Bucky smiles into the kiss, the jerk somehow knowing exactly what thoughts are running through your mind and the overwhelming effect he has on you. But you’re determined to prove it’s not just him that can elicit a lustful reaction. From your vantage on his upper thighs, you rock your hips deliberately slowly, drawing a whimper from Bucky’s lips.
Just as his large hands slip under the hem of your dress, brushing the bare skin of your back and pulling you even closer into him, you feel a spot of rain on your cheek. Then another. And before you’re even able to untangle yourself from Bucky’s embrace, the rain is pouring down on you both.
Neglecting the picnic blanket and basket, you both run to the cover of a nearby tree, Bucky covering you with his large leather jacket. Though the act is sweet, it ends up being fruitless as the water comes in at such a harsh angle you end up saturated anyway.
“I’m soaking!” You laugh, more at the inconvenience and your vexation at the timing of Mother Nature, than actually finding the situation funny. Bucky cups your face with a smile on his own, that same fondness still brimming in his eyes which makes you come undone.
“I’m sure there’s a joke about you being wet in there somewhere.” He’s not wrong, you were dripping before the rain started, but you’re not letting him onto that, at least not yet.
You laugh genuinely at his stupid wisecrack before pulling him back into a passionate kiss, not caring enough about how you look when absolutely drenched while Bucky gazes at you like you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.
You're not sure how long you spend kissing under the tree, but the rain is still pouring down when you both come up for air. Bucky looks at you expectantly, gentle hands still maintaining contact on your hips, and you know in this moment you’re deciding if you want to be one of the girls Wanta told you about that Bucky Barnes fucks on the first date.
“Take me home, Buck.”
The ride back to your place is longer than the earlier drive, stretched out by your need for Bucky not being fulfilled while the only contact possible is your arms around his solid waist.
Once Bucky’s parked his bike, you rush to your front door to get out of the rain, though it is a futile exercise as you're already completely sodden from the drive.
He presses you up against your door, in full view of any of your neighbours who might happen to be passing by, and remedies the situation of your mouth missing his tongue. His kiss is fervent, lips and tongue hungry, tasting all that you give him access to. Your hands find their way to his hair, his own slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his calloused hands brushing over the backs of your thighs before moving higher to find your ass, squeezing.
When you pull away you’re out of breath, but by the smug look in Bucky eyes, he seems proud of that feat.
“Would you like to come inside?” You ask breathlessly, already presuming his answer, your chest heating and your heart palpitating under his stare - if you didn’t know how aroused you were from Bucky’s kiss alone, you might actually be concerned for your health.
Bucky cocks his head to the side, and you just know something cheeky is going to come out of his mouth.
“You want me to cum inside?” You have to refrain from rolling your eyes, because as shameless and forward as Bucky’s being, your more than happy to follow through with his inference.
“Yes, I certainly want you to cum inside.”
Bucky’s hands never leave contact with your hips as you grab your keys to unlock your door, and once you’ve made your way inside, he takes complete control. Your back hits the door with a thud, but it’s excitement that tingles up your spine as Bucky leans his weight on you, lifting your thigh to curl your leg around his waist which allows you to pull his pelvis flush with yours.
You let out a small gasp when you feel Bucky’s clothed thick, hardening length press against your core. His signature, disarmingly charming smirk curves at the corners of his mouth as he leans down closer to you, piercing eyes never leaving yours.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, darling.” He promises in a low voice, before closing the remaining meagre space between you, lips capturing yours in a greedy kiss.
His hands locate the end of your dress again, sourcing your soaking entrance, his touch light not enough to satisfy your desperate need for him. Bucky smiles as he pulls away from your lips, bunching the end of your wet dress in his hands as he drops to his knees.
Fuck, he looks so damn perfect kneeling between your parted legs, licking his lips like he’s ready to devour you like a man starving. When was the last time a man fell to his knees for you? Have they ever?
Your train of thought comes to an abrupt stop when Bucky hooks your leg over his shoulder and places a kiss on your clothed pussy, you feel the flood of wetness pool at his teasing touch.
“Don’t you dare tease, Bucky.”
“But that’s what I’m best at.” He quips, placing a few delicate kisses to the soft inside of your thigh, each time closer to your centre than the last. Though he soon enough adheres to your warning by pulling your panties to the side and using those cheeky lips of his for good use by sucking on your clit.
Pleasure tingles up your spine as Bucky continues to eat you out, his strong arms keeping you upright as the sensation of his warm, wet tongue licking up your dripping arousal overwhelms all your senses.
“Mmm so sweet.” He hums against your folds, the reverberations sending jolts of ecstasy through your body.
“Fuck, Bucky, right there.” You manage to articulate between the stream of moans and whimpers his frenetic motions pull from the back of your throat, the sounds of which only spur Bucky on.
As he laps up all the wetness he himself is responsible for, you hurtle ever quicker towards the edge of bliss, the band in your stomach straining to an almost painful tension. You shift the angle of your hips ever so slightly, and when Bucky’s lips attach once more to your clit, you’re coming undone for him.
Your all consuming orgasm knocks the breath from your lungs, fingers grasping tightly to the strands of Bucky’s long hair to keep you grounded to Earth and stop you from floating away on a cloud of pure euphoria. Bucky slows his motions as he helps you ride out your high, hands maintaining a strong grip on your hips to keep you upright, determined to pull every ounce of pleasure from your body as possible.
When he figures he has, Bucky rises to his feet, locking lips in a bruising kiss in which you can taste yourself. He kisses you until you are short of breath and disoriented in your own home, hypnotised by how his hands tenderly caress your body, which contrasts to the vigorous assault his tongue just performed on your clit.
“This time, I’m going to watch as you fall apart on my cock.” Bucky commands as he starts unzipping his pants.
Based on his first performance, you’re positive you’re in for the time of your life tonight. Now all you have to do is let him ruin you.
* * *
Your head lays on Bucky’s bare chest feeling the steady rise and fall with each breath. It’s only your first date, and yet you’ve not felt as tranquil nor euphoric since you moved to this new city as you do right here in his arms.
It’s been hours since you arrived home, already having christened your front entry, couch and bed, twice, with the filthy things Bucky has done to you, and in what you have to deem the most successful first date you’ve ever been on.
Being with Bucky feels like you’ve found your new home in this isolating city. The final piece to the puzzle which makes moving here feel complete, purposeful, and in hindsight, like you’ve absolutely made the right call.
Just as you snuggle closer to his side, his head leaning to rest on your own, he sighs and starts to speak. “I should head home, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow- well, actually technically today.” He chuckles looking over at the alarm clock on your nightstand. “Need to have a shower and change.”
Anxiety, maybe even something closer to panic, rises in your chest. This is it. The one night Wanda promised you’d get together before he inevitably exits your life for good is over.
But not if you can help it.
“If you stay over, you could wake up with my mouth around you and be having the most world shattering blowjob of your life.” You place a delicate hand on his bare, hairy chest, keeping him securely in bed with you, whispering the words smooth like honey into his ear. “But I guess if you want to spend the night alone…”
“God, you’re making it so hard-”
“I make you so hard, do I?” It’s you this time who is wearing a cheeky smirk, and Bucky chuckles in response.
“Not quite where I was going, but yes, yes you do.” It’s difficult, nay impossible, to believe that someone who you just shared a night filled with pure ecstasy, multiple orgasms, and who is currently gazing at you with more warmth than the hottest summer day, is going to ghost you.
Bucky places a sweet kiss to your lips before climbing out of bed, leaving the space beside you vacant, cold, and making the bed feel far too big for just one person.
“I’m gonna call you.” He says, as if sensing you need reassurance from the tension in the still night air between you. Once he tugs up his pants, quickly buttoning and zipping his fly, he strides over to you and places a lingering kiss to your lips. Your hands snake around his neck in an attempt to pull him back into bed with you, but he’s quite literally a ball of muscle and you find you don’t have the strength to make him budge. “I’ll call you.” He reiterates, and though there is minimal light in the room, his blue eyes shine with sincerity.
“You promise?” You ask as he searches for his shirt which was thrown somewhere earlier in the night, your heart clenching when he finds it, knowing even your naked presence in a soft bed isn’t enough to make him stay.
“I promise.” He pledges as looks back at you one last time, his hand reaching for the door handle when some quality about you prevents him from opening it. He returns to your side and kisses you again, ardently, urgently, and for a moment you’ll think he actually will stay.
But you’ve never been that lucky.
“You think I’m passing up on an opportunity to do this again with you? I promise I’m going to call.” He repeats assuredly, placing one final, earnest kiss to your lips that leaves you dizzy. When you open your eyes, you only just catch his bulky figure leaving the room. Pulling the covers over you as the warm comfort you need, a few seconds later you hear a click as the front door shuts and within the minute his bike roaring to life as he drives away.
The words Wanda spoke in the locker room the day before reach the front of your mind. No one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.
Hopefully you’re the exception.
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Part 3 > >
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22drunkb · 7 months ago
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Do you think he was ever in love with Bedelia like he was in love with Will? I ask this because Bedelia says they were both the "brides of Hannibal". But Hannibal never courted her like he did with Will, Bedelia came into Hannibal's life much before Will but he never pursued her like he did with Will. Mads said he wanted a future with Will unlike with other people he hooked up with Alana, Bedelia or Anthony. He took her to Italy as a consolation prize when Will betrayed him. Even in Italy H was pining about Will all the time and telling Bedelia how much he loves Will. I know he slept with Bedelia but he probably slept with Anthony too and he slept with Alana, Hannibal is a hedonistic guy who sleeps around. For him sleeping with someone doesn't mean he is in love with them. But when Will confronts Bedelia, she pretends as if Hannibal held them in the same regard which is obviously not true. Hannibal would choose Will over her in a heart beat and even she knows it but yet she acts as if Hannibal sees them both equally. I don't understand why? 😭 Why do you think?why make herself seem like a competition when she is not?
I think you're misunderstanding the meaning of "bride" here. It doesn't mean beloved. It doesn't mean favorite. It doesn't necessarily mean sex. It means something more like what Chiyoh meant when she called Bedelia "his bird": "He puts us [birds] in cages to see what we'll do."
Hannibal collects people, generally. Most of his therapy patients are collectibles. He collects them because he sees potential in them for "becoming," for expressing an inner potential that interests him and that he thinks, in his own way, it would be good and true to themselves for them to express. (This generally amounts to some kind of murdering or violence.) He may be interested to see what will happen when his collectibles are transformed, but he doesn't find it terribly hard to imagine or predict. The people he has sex with don't even all fall into this category; I don't think he particularly was interested in Alana's potential becoming, for instance, though things did work out that way (but, in some ways, more at Will's hand than at Hannibal's).
That said, the category of "collectible" is large and includes both Will and Bedelia. However, there's another category, a subset, within that, which Will, Bedelia, Chiyoh, and Abigail occupy: that's "bird." These are people whose behavior is less predictable and therefore more interesting and engrossing. In the process of transforming his collectibles-in-general, he doesn't necessarily show these objects of interest much about himself. His true self, that is, rather than the mask. The four I just named get more of a look. However, Chiyoh and Abigail get their views not entirely at Hannibal's choosing: Chiyoh is from his past, and Abigail figured a fair amount out herself. (It's more complicated than this, but for that reason I don't think it's helpful to get into these two further here.) There are, as far as we know, only two people who've gained much insight into him entirely of his own volition: Bedelia and Will.
Both Will and Bedelia are people Hannibal collected and then cultivated in order to have someone to share himself with. I am not saying that that meant he felt exactly the same way about them, or that he shared the same things or to the same degree. But Hannibal put his therapist in a position to murder not only because he saw that potential in her and wanted to bring it out, as with all collectibles, but also to gain a certain degree of control over her so he'd have a therapist he could actually talk to. It's hinted in their pre-Florence sessions that she does not want to continue being his therapist but feels she has little choice.
Hannibal saw that collectible potential in Will and, like Bedelia, wanted him to be someone he could show himself to, albeit in different ways and to a more profound degree. Less utilitarian and more romantic. He made it very clear in the s2 finale that he wanted that more than anything: "I let you see me, know me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it." (Or something like that, I'm paraphrasing from memory.)
What is necessary for him to select these two people to be seen by is for him to respect them, in his own way. He does not respect all his collectibles, though he's interested in them. He respects Chiyoh and Abigail more, but in a "precocious child" kind of way, rather than anything peerlike. But, Bedelia: he does actually listen to what Bedelia says. He forces her to let him play patient to some degree, but, within the role of patient, he squirms at some of her insights and defends himself the way a patient who feels that their therapist has power does. He values her input enough to subject himself to it. He enjoys her company enough to take her to Florence. She can't "surprise" him the way Will can, and he's not enamored and fascinated with her the same way. But he does hold respect for her. If we were to view what I said about the patient dynamic he has with her as a BDSM thing (which....it is), he chose her to play the dom, which is a pretty big deal, really.
I don't disagree with you that his interest in Will is qualitatively different. But they have both, at different times, been someone he chose to know him. That's a special status. It is also a status of being kept, to some degree: Bedelia didn't have the option not to be his therapist, and, as Will feels once he gets sucked back in after his time with Molly, he never really had the option to escape either. Birds again.
In the "We've both been his bride" conversation, it's Will who comes in with an aggressive, competitive energy, not Bedelia. He calls her "bride" first, and she responds by saying that Will has been too--i.e., why are you so mad at me? Why are you displacing your feelings here? (That is, she's being a therapist.) Through the whole conversation, Bedelia is actually trying to get Will to see that they aren't the same, and that Hannibal cares for him and belongs to him in a way he didn't to Bedelia. It's just that to get Will there, she first has to get him to admit that he has been attached to/chosen by Hannibal at least as much as she has, before she can show him that his position goes further. She's not setting herself up as a rival at all. Will came in angry because he subconsciously saw her that way, and she is working with that starting point to get him to understand better. This is the conversation that leads Will to ask, "Is Hannibal in love with me?", which he never could have brought himself to consciously articulate without her guidance.
I wrote a whole post just about this conversation, if you'd like further explanation. See also this and this from @bonearenaofmyskull.
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