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celestial-taro · 3 months ago

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Pick A Lana:

Your Person's Fantasies of You 18+

PAC: Your Person's Fantasies of You 18+

☆ How to choose your pile: Take a deep breath, hold it for a sec - exhale slowly through your mouth. Close your eyes and focus on the question. Once you're ready, take a look at the number and choose the pile you feel drawn to.

If you feel called by more than one pile, there might be more messages for you.

Remember: This is a general reading, therefore I'd be picking up messages for collective audience. Take only what resonates and leave what doesn’t. May you find your message!

PILE 1

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading! Okay, right of the bat Pile 1, your person is giving ✨possessive✨ I just heard “You’re mine.” Damn. It’s the ultimate "I own you, and you own me" energy. There’s no in-between, just a raw, unshakable pull between you two. It’s almost obsessive, the way their body craves yours, the way their mind keeps coming back to thoughts of you, even when they try to focus on work and other things.

They fantasize about taking their time with you, making you beg before they finally give you what you want. I heard “arguing is foreplay”. It’s the kind of connection where even your arguments hold heat—one second you’re challenging them, the next, they’ve got you against the wall, their mouth on yours, hands gripping tight because they can’t keep their hands off you. Your body is like a prize they’ve won, and they’re going to worship every inch of it. For some of you, your person don’t shy from PDA and they like to show you off.

You’re someone who set high standards for yourself and actually put in the work to meet them. Whether it’s in your career, social circle, or relationships, you exude the energy of someone who knows their worth. For some of you, I’m getting IxTP/xxFJ vibes.

Your person is a provider. I almost thought it’s giving sugar daddy vibes, with how much they spoil you materialistically. But there’s this insecurity within them. Maybe they think you’re too good to be true? Maybe it’s fear of losing you? Maybe you shine so bright? But they don’t want to let you go. And in the heat of it all? They can’t resist you. They want to fuck the insecurity out of their system, to make you scream their name until they know you’re theirs in every way possible.

They love taking you from behind too, it’s one of their fantasies, gripping your waist, pulling your hair against them because they need to feel all of you. They’re possessive with their hands, their touches—palm against your throat, choking (consensually), fingers tangled in your hair, nails digging into your hips. They don’t just want to make love to you; they want to mark you with hickies, claim you, make sure you remember exactly who’s fucking you so good.

They love the way you let them take control, but they also love it when you push back—when you straddle them, pin them down, show them that you know exactly what you’re doing, it drives them crazy. They want to own you, but at the same time, you own them just as much. And they’ll make damn sure you never forget that.

For some of you, there’s also cuddle/spooning fantasy going on. They want to hold you tight after, in that sweet afterglow. But even while they’re holding you, their hands are gonna wander, teasing, exploring. Honestly they just can’t help it 🤷‍♀️

PILE 2

Oh, now this is the seductress irresistible pile. Your person? They don’t just want you—they ache for you, in a way that borders on desperation. What did you do to them Pile 2 🥵Your person hates how much control you have over them, but at the same time, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

They can’t stand it when you play with them, when you act all innocent, when you act like you don’t know exactly what you do to them. But you do know. You’re giving that "Who, me? I would never officer..." energy while knowing damn well you’re driving them insane. It’s not outright teasing, it’s subtle. You don’t have to try to be alluring; it’s just who you are. You don’t deny anything outright, but you never fully give in right away either. It’s that delicate push-and-pull that drives your person up the wall.

And you love it. You love making them work for it, love seeing them lose their composure, love the way their hands shake slightly when they finally get to touch you after being deprived.

It’s no brainer that they fantasize about you driving them insane—about you dragging things out, taking your time, leaving them with pent up frustration. But once they snap? Once they’ve had enough? That’s when they lose control, that’s when they take you the way they’ve been day dreaming about. Bending you against the nearest surface, with their hands gripping your waist. Spanking you, punishing you. They love to see you squirm, love to see you struggling to keep up with them, love the way your body arches against theirs, silently pleading for more.

Before I continue, if you feel drawn to Pile 1, that’s because there might be a message for you there.

For some of you, your person is obsessed with your mouth—there’s something unique about it. Could be your lips is pouty, or it’s unusually red, could be it has hyperpigmentation on the outer lips so it looks like you have lip liner on, could be the shape is plump and full, or it’s just that you have a smart mouth. Whatever it is, they just can’t get enough. The way your lips part, the way they run their fingers around it—it’s intoxicating. They’ll kiss you like they’re starved.

They like to see you. Mirror sex might be present. So they can take in every shift of your expression, every little gasp and whimper that escapes your lips. They want you to see exactly what they do to you, want you to watch the way your body moves against theirs, want you to witness the complete mess they turn you into.

PILE 3

Ah, Pile 3, your person is craving that deep emotional and physical connection—this isn’t just about lust, your person wants to make love to you. This pile got me listening to Make Love to You by Boys II Men and All My Life by Kci and Jojo. Your person is very passionate, loving and tender.

You are the indulgence they can never resist. You feel like a luxury, like a hidden treasure or something rare. They fantasize about giving you everything, pampering you with the finest things, worshipping you with their hands and touches. They want to be the only one who gets to see you like this—laid out for them, body relaxed, eyes hazy with pleasure as they take their time with you. The way you respond to them, the way your body shivers under their touch, the way you take all that they give you—it’s maddening for them.

They also fantasize about being taken care of and indulging in pure sensuality—slow, lingering touches, bodies tangled in sheets. There’s whispered praises, there’s physical craving—running hands over warm skin, feeling soft lips, savoring the connection fully. They also dream of devotion, they want you to crave them, to cherish them, to treat them like something precious and irreplaceable. Your person might have Leo/Aries in their big 3.

They fantasize about being wanted and wanting you so badly that restraint is impossible for both of you. The moment when all that confidence, all that dominance, turns into need. Because as much as they want to own you, as much as they want to be the one in charge, you have a way of turning the tables. They think they’re the one running the show, but then you touch them just right, whisper something sinful in their ear, look at them with those eyes, and suddenly, they’re the one falling apart.

They don’t even realize how much power you have over them until it’s too late. Until they’re groaning your name, gripping you tight like you’re the only thing keeping them grounded. Until they’re letting you do whatever you want to them because, fuck, they need it. They need you. It’s rare for them to lose control like this, but with you? You pull it out of them effortlessly. They fantasize about you taking from them—taking your pleasure, pushing them to the edge over and over until they’re left breathless and completely wrecked.

It’s not just the sex, though. It’s the connection. They want all of you, body and soul. That’s why they never stop at just one round. Even after the fire dies down, they’ll hold you close, fingers trailing lazily over your skin, pressing soft kisses to your temple. Because for them, this isn’t just lust. This is everything. And Pile 3 they’ll never get enough of you.

PILE 4

Welcome to your reading Pile 4! Your person fantasy carries a heavy emotional undercurrent, it’s not just about physical desire but something deeper, unspoken, and possibly even unresolved. There’s a sense of longing, nostalgia, and emotional intensity, as if their thoughts about you are tangled between wanting, missing, and aching for something far away or unattainable. This is more than just fantasy; there’s something real and deep about the way they think you. For some of you, this person could be an ex.

Your person’s fantasies might be tinged with frustration or a sense of emotional distance. They want you, but something always feels just out of reach. They imagine scenarios where they try to get your attention, but you’re so detached—which only makes them crave you more. There could also be a desire for an unexpected, intense moment that breaks through the emotional barriers.

Now if this is an ex, for them, you’re the one that got away. The one they can’t forget, the one they can’t let go of, no matter how much time passes. Their fantasy isn’t just about having you—it’s about getting you back. About fixing what was broken, about proving to you that no one else will ever know your body the way they do. Because no matter how much they try to move on, no one feels like you. No one haunts them the way you do.

For the action, they fantasized about a night where the past no longer matters, where it’s just you and them, tangled together in sheets that smells like longing. No more distance, no more hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered need. Their feelings go beyond just sex —they want to reclaim you. To remind you, through every slow drag of their fingers, every deep, desperate thrust, exactly who they are to you. They want to see it in your eyes—the way your walls crumble, the way you give in to what’s always been there between you.

You could undo them with just a single touch. And they know it. That’s why, when they have you under them, all soft gasps and breathy moans, they take their time. This isn’t just about pleasure—it’s about proving a point. That no one else will ever make you feel like this. That no one else will ever know you the way they do.

They love how your body trembles when they push—push you to the edge, push you to need them just as much as they need you. You’re so familiar, yet somehow, every touch feels brand new. And it has them consumed, you have them mad.

There’s a strong nostalgic, bittersweet and sentimental quality to their thoughts. They might fantasize about reuniting, rekindling an old spark, or returning to a time when things felt easier. There’s also a sweet yet intense craving for deep emotional intimacy, wanting to feel truly connected, known, and seen by you.

#tarotblr #tarot community #free readings #pac #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot cards #tarot daily #tarot game #tarot reading #love reading tarot #18+ tarot

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shitpostingsapphic · 5 months ago

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Why I don't feel disappointed by Vi's arc, but you might

I usually have pretty strong and polarizing opinions when it comes to my takes on Arcane, but this is one where I wanna open up the discussion a bit more and invite people to my perspective, and it's fine if you don't see it this way.

I think there are two primary reasons why people feel disappointed by the arc of s2 Vi. The first, being that Vi had stronger voiced concerns about the state of Zaun in the first season. The second, being that she spent the whole show wanting to be with her sister and she didn't end up getting that.

Why I actually feel fulfilled in Vi's arc has to do with these two points, and I invite you to sit with what I have to say next.

Both of these parts of Vi have to do with her fatal flaw: her neglect of self.

We know two things based on what the creators have said about the show: the theme of Arcane is the cycle of violence, and the entire show was written together, instead of season 2 being written after season 1 production. From this, I can then ask: what do the creators want to tell their audience about this message, knowing they wrote it all out together, knowing the events of season 2 were very purposeful, using Vi as a conduit for that message?

If violence is a cycle, can one person defy it? No, of course not. At the start of Vi's arc, she wants to be a person that breaks it, though. She wants to change things in Zaun, wants a better life for her sister. As season 1 continues on, she wants to pick up where she left off with Powder without truly processing the gravity of the years between them. She thinks she can hold the world on her shoulders and fix any problem that comes her way. She thinks she can use her fists to make progress, thinks she can physically reach out and create change, but it only contributes to the cycle. And that's not because she's morally in the wrong when she does so, but she doesn't grasp yet that her fists can't fix everything. Vander tries to tell her as such in act 1, and it's a lesson that goes beyond just the literal application.

Vi's tendency to try and fix everything around her leads to her neglect of self. Inevitably, when you try to change things you have no control over, it leaves wounds. It leaves a person feeling like something is deeply wrong with them. And we watch Vi go down this spiral. I actually find myself really brokenhearted watching Vi in the first 2 acts, because I think she represents a lot of us: we see pain and devastation around us, but we don't know what the right thing to do is. We try different tactics and try to fix things and are left wondering why things feel worse than how they started.

I think that's something a lot of viewers could benefit to reflect on: I think in watching a show with strong political messaging, we yearn for a message that tells us the answers to these big problems. Truthfully, most of us don't have a fucking clue what we're doing. We want change but don't know how to see it through. That includes the writers. This isn't a show about the solution to political strife. It's about the cycle of violence. It's about not knowing how to change something that's been continuous throughout history in some form.

If we put ourselves in Vi's shoes, it would eventually take a toll on us to try and change something that isn't within our ability to change. Vi can't fix the problems in Zaun. Vi can't change the way time and distance and pain has warped her sister into someone else. In season 2 act 1, she's still trying to take responsibility for things that are outside of her control. She blames herself for the way Jinx has changed and has to tell herself that the only way to fix it is to end the cycle with her own fists. She teams up with Caitlyn because she's convinced herself it's the only way she can help. She sees how violence has devastated not only Zaun but innocents in Piltover as well, and she feels responsible for it.

BUT SHE IS NOT AT FAULT. And she cannot fix it any more than she could have created it.

Perhaps people may feel Vi's arc is lacking because they wanted to see more of her involvement in the revolution of Zaun. They wanted to see her be able to change the situation with her sister and for them to live happily together. But because of the circumstances surrounding both, for Vi to do so, she would inevitably lean into her fatal flaw. She cannot do either of those things without neglecting herself. That's not who she is.

The whole point of a character arc is for someone to be a changed person from beginning to end. If Vi starts out as someone passionate about enacting change to the point of self-destruction, what would a resolution for a character like that look like?

Vi needs to choose herself. Vi needs to release herself of the responsibility of changing the world. She can't do it. There are ways to contribute to positive change that don't involve putting the world on your shoulders, and Vi has yet to put herself first in any situation. Vi choosing love is how she does it.

Amanda Overton, one of the main writers that contributed to Vi's character and the Caitlyn and Vi dynamic and relationship, said about Vi: "If she has no one left to protect, she would fall in love". If Vi finally lets go of this crutch of hers to protect, to fight, to take responsibility for things that aren't her burden to bear, she would fall in love. She would finally be able to choose something for herself.

This is why I find her arc fulfilling. I feel like it's not an arc we really see a lot. It's not every day we have a character that starts out like the classic anime slash marvel protagonist, and instead of being the person that saves the world, they accept they're not a superhero and it's okay to choose love and personal happiness.

If it applies, and you're reading this, I want you to ask yourself: are you perhaps disappointed with her arc because you expected her to be the superhero? And would you be okay with accepting that she isn't and doesn't need to be? That it would be better for her to choose herself?

#arcane analysis #arcane discussion #arcane discourse #arcane #vi ar #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x vi #caitvi #violyn #arcane league of legends #arcane lol #arcane league of lesbians

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bbokicidal · 6 months ago

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"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [LEE KNOW]

Minho lets the other members take a glance at just how pretty you look when you're begging for release.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Lee Know x Fem!Reader Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (by two of the other members at the same time), edging (main premise), orgasm control, orgasm denial, teasing, mentions of forced orgasms, groping/palming

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol.

Word Count: 1.5K

Divider by @enchanthings

"I've never seen you this squirmy before, baby. Is it because you're shy in front of the other members or do you just want to cum that badly?"

Minho's words almost seem to irk you - and you would've tipped your head back to look up and glare at him behind you had his thumb not begun circling your clit once more. He had stopped maybe thirty seconds prior just as your orgasm was approaching for the second time - refusing to let you receive the pleasure you were so desperately aching for. But you'd hold off, bite your tongue you supposed, purely because this time you had an audience. A rather large one at that.

Of course a few of them decided to sit close - get up close and personal with the pussy they themselves wanted to get a touch at, maybe more. Chan was one of those few; Sitting to your left and gently holding the thigh that had been thrown over his lap. His hands moved over the skin carefully, kneading and caressing and soothing the ache he presumed was beginning to claw at your muscles from being spread open for them for so long. And though you wouldn't tell him to move his hands - because fuck, you really did enjoy having them on you - you were pretty sure they were slowly adding to your frustrations. The gentle touches that promised to ghost achingly close to your center seemed to push you closer and closer to the edge; A gentle but firm assist in helping you approach your next orgasm that you knew wouldn't be granted to you.

And Seungmin, ever the daring one and possibly the only other member not threatened by Minho, sat to your right. His hands were kept to himself for the most part, settled on the bed between his thigh and your hip - until Minho had specifically instructed him to grab onto you to keep your thighs open. You'd jerked a little too hard, tried to close yourself off to their ever-prying eyes that soaked in every inch of your bare skin in a greedy but appreciative manner, and Minho wouldn't have that. With one thigh already held open, the other is pried carefully at first by the second youngest's long fingers - then firm by the same hand, pulling your leg until it touched his own, keeping you settled there with a strong hold. And with the way his eyes dragged over your form, darkened now by the realization that he had gotten to touch your body in such an intimate manner, you were sure he wouldn't be letting go any time soon.

Most of the others had strayed back towards chairs in your bedroom - Changbin had taken to sitting on the small vanity stool Minho had gifted you during your previous anniversary. With his thighs spread and basketball shorts tenting so painfully obvious, he had slumped forward as if attempting to get a better look. Though he was seated directly in front of you, it was as if he wanted to just get closer. The only reason you could assume he was staying in his seat was because of the people already around you - and the perfect view he was getting as Minho's index and middle fingers spread your pussy open as if it were a gift being opened; A perfect reveal. Changbin's chest jolts with a soft gasp, lips parting and eyes wide. He drinks in the sight, but still stays where he's seated; Minho's dark gaze is enough to keep him well aware that if he gets up, he's leaving the room.

With his fingers slipping from your folds and instead dipping into your hole with a gentle stroke, and the prettiest, sweetest sounds coming from your mouth, Jisung can't help the way he audibly groans aloud. His hand had slipped down subconsciously, seeming to naturally gravitate towards his cock to palm and grope at himself in - once again - a greedy manner; The same way his eyes dragged over every pretty curve of your body. The way your back arched off of the sheets, the way your chest jerked with every breath and moan and whine. Could you really blame him for being so eager? For touching himself to the sight of your body laid out in his favorite Hyung's bed, writhing for said man and looking so -

Delectable. That was the only thought going through Jeongin's head as he leaned forward. Minho's surprised, even, at the youngest's actions. He'd seen him down there - kneeling at the foot of the bed like some sort of dog waiting to see if it would be allowed to jump up and lay down - but instead, it was Jeongin, leaning in on his knees and attaching his mouth to your folds before anyone had a chance to tell him to back off.

And Felix thinks for a moment to pull him back - to tell him it wasn't right, that Minho would pop him in the air fryer and they'd never see him again. But the blonde's eyes dart from Jeongin to Minho and back to Jeongin; Back to the Maknae sucking, licking, drooling over your slit as if it's the most perfect dessert he's tasted in his twenty three years of living. And honestly? Jeongin really does think of it that way, if it isn't evident by the way he seems to ignore that Minho's fingers are still pumping in and out of you.

Felix's eyes dart down to the sight before him, sitting near Seungmin after having come back from the bathroom to take a small break of his own. He swallows at the view of Jeongin's tongue lathing over your folds in long, slow licks that seem to make you whimper. And Felix wants to do that, too. Plus - your gushing hole with slick dripping all over Jeongin's lips and pushed out further by Minho's fingers seems so inviting...

So he lets himself slide off of the bed, Seungmin's eyes darting to follow him. And Minho watches in silent awe, surprisingly comfortable with letting the younger members lick over your pussy. Felix leans forward, glancing up at Minho as he makes the first lick - and shivers when his tongue touches Jeongin's in passing. It's a feeling that isn't unwelcome but one he hadn't been prepared for, perhaps too in his mind about having his mouth on you to realize someone was already acting out what he craved for himself. But he continues, tongue sliding over your folds each time Jeongin pulls away to breathe before returning, their mouths combined enough to make you begin to tremble.

And Minho's eyes drop away from the two instead to where you lay, your shoulders and head propped up against his chest from where he sits on the mattress. His head tips, teasing without any words, until he finally decides to whisper down to you to grab your attention. "You're not that discreet, angel."

With your walls tightening around his fingers and the way your thighs fought against the holds of Chan and Seungmin, Minho was plenty aware of just what you were up to; Trying to play it off as wiggling, trying to hide your oncoming orgasm from their prying eyes. And he isn't stupid.

"Stop." He demands, looking down to the two still lapping at your weeping slit. Felix's eyes dart up to the older for a moment before he obeys, pulling his mouth away from you and licking over his lips now covered in your essence. Jeongin, however, is still apparently starstruck with your taste and doesn't hear his Hyung calling for him to knock it off. And you're in bliss with the continued pleasure, head thrown back and spine arching up away from your boyfriend's thighs beneath you.

"Jeongin," Minho barks this time, his fingers slipping out of your pussy and instead tangling in Jeongin's hair to grab firm. He pulls, the Maknae fighting the hold for a moment before popping off of your clit with a wet, slick sound. With parted lips and dark eyes now staring up at his Hyung, the sight of Jeongin being covered in your juices after you squirt because of him makes Minho... definitely feel some type of way.

It takes one quick glance around the room to see how much everyone enjoyed it - seeing you come undone because of him, covering their youngest from his lips to his chest with Minho's hand still tangled angrily in his hair.

As he glances around the bedroom, his eyes meet with Jisung's and the rapper can't help himself from asking.

"Can I be next?"

Minho's eyes slowly fall away from the other, down to where you're laying against him. Slumped and panting from the breach of pleasure, you peek up at your boyfriend through lidded eyes. And he stares, knowing then that your evening of edging and denied orgasms had turned to something far more... well, overstimulating.

The bedroom door clicks as the knob turns, swinging open carefully before being shut behind him as Hyunjin enters the room with a bottle of water, a towel, and a damp washcloth. He pauses as everyone's eyes seem to draw to him - including their Maknae now covered in your squirt and blinking up at him as if unsure of how to break the news that he'd missed it.

Hyunjin stops in his tracks, assessing the situation and blinking slowly at the sight. ".... Hm." He hums low in his chest, setting the items he was carrying down onto the mattress before gesturing with two fingers for the younger members to move.

Jeongin and Felix both seem to scurry away, crawling off to the side near where Seungmin sat on the bed and making plenty of room for the tallest to kneel down. Hyunjin settles comfortably on his knees, shifting as close to the bed as possible before reaching forward to hook strong arms beneath your thighs. He drags you to him, your body slumping down against Minho until only your head remained in his lap.

"You did all that while I was out of the room?" Hyunjin questions, gesturing with a finger to Jeongin who sat beet red and with antsy hands in his lap. When you nod in confirmation, the tallest hums once more as if really taking it all in and debating what to do. He shares a glance with Minho behind you, eyes slowly falling back to where you stare him down as you await whatever your punishment may be.

"Fuck orgasm denial. If you're capable of that," he juts a thumb towards Jeongin once more, "then you're going to be doing it all night for us." His gaze falls to the Maknae sat off to his side, nervous and wanting to touch you all over again. Though he wouldn't try anything now that your body was trapped between the four (arguably) scariest members of the group. "Except, I'm going to show you how to get her to really let go."

Taglist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l

#skz imagine #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut #Jeongin x reader #Felix x reader #seungmin x reader #Hyunjin x reader #Changbin x reader #bangchan x reader #han x reader #lee know imagine

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ghsface · 7 months ago

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under the table - chris sturniolo

Sumary: You and Chris are "friends with benefits" and you decide to tease him a little on his Twitch live stream.

Warnings: smut +18, orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, public sex (indirectly through the stream), unprotected sex (don't do it), oral m receiving, dom!chris, no use of y/n.

Word count: idk

A/n: So this is in my drafts for like 2 weeks now, I haven't checked it so I apologize if it has mistakes or things that don't make sense or idk, this is also my first time writing something about Chris 🖤

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

The night was dark, and the glow of the computer screen dimly illuminated the room. Chris was immersed in his Twitch stream, chatting with his followers, laughing at the jokes flying through the chat, and you were there, watching from the couch across the room. The routine wasn’t new to you; you’d spent more than one night accompanying him during his streams, knowing that, eventually, the tension between you would boil over somehow.

It was a strange dynamic, the two of you. “Friends” with benefits. If that meant anything. Because even though you’d never put a label on it, the intensity you shared when you were together made it clear that this wasn’t just a game for either of you. The spark was there, always lit, waiting for the perfect moment to explode.

That night, something felt different. You could see it in the way he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, like he was trying to stay focused on the stream but his mind was already miles away, lost in you. You smiled to yourself, letting a naughty idea begin to form in your mind.

Every little gesture you had made, every subtle tease, had led up to this moment. As you slid under the table, your heart began to beat faster. Chris was talking to the chat, seemingly oblivious, but the way his body was reacting told you he was more than aware of what you were about to do.

From your position, you could see his legs tense as you settled between them. You had done this before, but this time, the charge in the air was different, more intense. You started slowly, letting your hands trail up his thighs, enjoying the way his body responded with small spasms under your touch. His words in the stream faltered for a second, barely noticeable, but enough to make you smile. He was losing control and you hadn’t even really started.

Your fingers brushed the edge of his belt, and you felt him inhale deeply. He kept talking to the chat, answering questions, but each word was more strained than the last. He couldn't keep his focus. You were there, right where you knew you could make everything fall apart.

With one swift movement, you unbuckled his belt, causing him to fidget in his chair. You could hear his breathing quicken as your fingers fiddled with the button of his pants, and when you finally released him, a small moan escaped his lips, almost imperceptible, but enough to make you feel the power you held at that moment.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing the warm skin you had just uncovered, and you felt his entire body shudder under your touch. His hand rested on the table, desperately searching for something to hold onto as he tried to maintain his composure in front of his audience, but you had already caught him.

Chris tried to keep the conversation flowing, but his voice broke when you lowered your lips further, kissing every inch of his exposed skin with deliberate, teasing slowness. It was a game to you, one you were determined to win. Every second that passed, you brought him closer to his edge, and the thought that at any moment he could lose control turned you on.

Finally, you let your lips envelop him completely, and in that instant, you heard him bite back a growl, his hand turning into a fist on the table. The chat kept moving, but Chris could barely keep up the answers, the words coming out of his mouth in fits and starts, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Uh, yeah, guys, uh... one second...” His voice was a rough whisper, and you could feel his body trembling under your touch.

You pushed on, letting yourself be carried away by the feeling of having him at the mercy of your every move. The sound of his breathing, ragged and heavy, echoed in your ears, and you knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. Every time your lips moved faster, his control crumbled a little more.

His legs trembled slightly, and you could hear him struggling to stay in the moment, responding to his audience as if nothing was happening under the table. But you knew he was on the verge of giving in, and that turned you on even more.

Finally, his hand dipped under the table, his fingers tangling in your hair with palpable desperation. He was trying to guide you, but it was clear he had lost the control he was trying so hard to maintain. His voice, still trying to keep the thread of the stream, was barely a broken whisper.

“I’m sorry, guys… I have to… cut it here,” he said, forcing the words out between labored breaths, and without waiting for a response, he abruptly cut the stream.

Before you could react, Chris grabbed you by the arms, yanking you up and making you face him. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing uneven, and you knew at that moment that he had lost all patience.

“You…” he began, his voice hoarse. “You have no idea what you just started.”

And then, his lips fell on yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

Chris kissed you with an intensity that made everything in your body ignite immediately. His lips were firm, hungry, as if he were claiming something he had been suppressing all this time, and you melted under his touch. He wrapped a firm arm around your waist, drawing you closer to his body, while his hands slid with palpable urgency down your back, gripping you, pulling you as if he needed you even closer.

His lips left yours only to move down to your neck, biting gently, then licking the marks he left. You were lost in the feeling of his mouth, of his hot breath against your skin. Each touch was precise, purposeful, with that perfect mix of desire and dominance. It made you feel like you had provoked him in just the right way, and now, he was in complete control.

“You have no idea what you provoke, do you?” he murmured against your skin, his voice deep and heavy with desire.

You felt a shiver run through your body as his hands moved down to your hips, sliding your skirt up with a skill that made you wonder how many times he’d imagined this moment. The fabric lifted with ease, exposing more of you to his touch, and his fingers brushed against your bare skin, drawing a small moan from you that you couldn’t hold back.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible, but clear enough for him to understand.

Chris smiled, a dark, dangerous smile, before pushing you towards the table behind you. Your hips bumped against the edge, and he took advantage of the opportunity, forcefully lifting you up to sit on the cold surface. The contrast between the wood and the heat of his body was electrifying. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy, but that only made you want him even more.

He leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them to better accommodate himself between them. His lips met yours again, more aggressive this time, as if he wanted to make it clear that there was no turning back. The kiss was intense, overflowing with need and urgency, while his fingers continued to move up the inside of your thighs, exploring every inch of your skin, getting dangerously close to where you needed him the most.

“You like to play, don’t you?” he whispered against your lips, biting lightly on your bottom lip before letting go. His eyes locked with yours, dark, lust-laden.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you clung to his shirt, pulling him towards you, wanting to feel more, needing him closer. Your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the warm skin of his abdomen as he let out a growl of approval. You knew you were driving him crazy, and that feeling of power made you even more aroused.

Finally, one of his fingers gently brushed against your underwear, and you couldn’t help but arch your back at the contact. Chris noticed it, and a cocky smirk crossed his face.

“You’re so fucking ready for me,” he murmured, his finger tracing a slow but determined path over the fabric. You could feel yourself throbbing in anticipation, and he knew it. He knew exactly how to make you want him more with each passing second.

Suddenly, without warning, he slid your panties aside, revealing what he’d been teasing. His fingers played at the edge, slowly caressing you, making you moan softly.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing as his fingers continued their slow tracing, tracing light circles that drove you crazy.

You nodded, unable to articulate words at the moment. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and you felt your body react to his every move, begging for more.

He finally decided to give you what you wanted. His finger slid inside you with an ease that made you gasp immediately, your hands gripping his shirt tighter. Chris watched you closely, enjoying your every reaction as he moved his fingers with a mastery he could only have acquired after so many times imagining it.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he growled, and his voice was a deep bass that resonated in your chest, making your breathing even more erratic.

Your hips began to move against his hand instinctively, seeking more, wanting more of him. And he gave it to you. He added a second finger, increasing the pace, and when his thumb began to draw circles on the exact spot, your entire body tensed.

“Chris…” you moaned, feeling the pressure inside you rapidly increasing.

He smiled against your neck, gently biting your skin before whispering,

“You’re not going to cum yet. Not until I tell you to.”

His commanding tone only made you want him more.

Your hips bucked instinctively, seeking more than he was giving you, but Chris remained in absolute control. Every time you felt yourself on the edge, he slowed his movements, teasing you, reveling in the frustration that was reflected on your face. It was a game to him, one where you both knew he was in control, and you reveled in the momentary submission.

“Fuck, Chris…” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as you struggled to keep the balance between the pleasure and the need that consumed you.

He let out a soft, dark chuckle, still moving inside you. His fingers kept a rhythm that drove you crazy, slow enough to keep you on the edge, but not letting you fall completely. Desire burned through you, and every time you tried to move to seek more friction, he stopped you with a firm grip on your hip.

“I told you that you’re not going to cum yet,” he whispered close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, and the authoritative tone in his voice made a shiver run through you.

You knew he was enjoying seeing you like this, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. And the truth was that you were enjoying it too, even though you had a hard time admitting it. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans that escaped your throat, but it was impossible. The way he touched you, how his fingers knew exactly where to apply pressure, made your mind cloud with desire.

Chris, still with his hand occupied, moved his other hand up your back, lifting your shirt as his lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and small bites that made every fiber of your being ignite. You could feel how he was on edge too, his body tensing against yours, but he still held back, drawing out the moment, maintaining absolute control.

Your breaths were ragged, ragged, and when Chris added a third finger inside you, you felt like your entire body was falling apart. The pleasure was unbearable, consuming you from within, and you knew you couldn't hold out much longer. Your hips moved frantically against his hand, seeking that climax he kept denying you.

“Please…” you whispered, barely audible, and that plea was all he needed to hear.

With one swift movement, Chris pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to let out a frustrated moan. Before you could protest, he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you off the table, easily turning you so that you were facing away from him, your hands flat on the cool surface.

“You wanted to play, didn’t you?” he murmured behind you, his voice husky and heavy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, his breathing heavy against your neck.

You nodded, unable to formulate coherent words at the moment. Your legs trembled slightly, and the emptiness you felt between your legs was almost painful. You needed him inside you, more than ever.

Without further warning, Chris slid your panties down, leaving you completely exposed. The sound of his clothes rustling as he undid his own pants only heightened the anticipation, and when you finally felt him line up with you, an involuntary moan escaped your lips.

Chris didn’t give you time to prepare. He sank into you in one movement, deep, filling you completely. The air left your lungs, and you gripped the edges of the table as your hips bucked against his. The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending waves of heat throughout your body, making you shiver.

“Fuck…” he growled through gritted teeth, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard him before as he picked up the pace, his hands firm on your hips, guiding every movement.

Every time he moved inside you, you felt like you were being pushed to the edge, and this time, there was no turning back. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, along with his heavy breaths and your uncontrolled moans. The tension that had been building up the entire time finally exploded, and you let yourself go in the moment, lost in the feeling of having him so deep inside you.

Chris leaned forward, his lips finding the back of your neck as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every corner. His fingers slid up to your clit, beginning to rub it with a precision that had you arching your back immediately.

“Now,” he murmured in your ear, his voice husky, “now you can cum.”

It was all you needed. Your body tensed completely, the climax hitting you with a force that nearly knocked you off your feet. You screamed his name as waves of pleasure rolled through you, making you shiver under his control. Chris kept moving inside you, prolonging each second, bringing you to a point of ecstasy you had never experienced before.

Finally, with a deep growl, he reached his limit as well, spilling himself inside you as his body shook. His hands still gripped your hips, his fingers leaving marks on your skin, as if he didn't want to ever let go.

You both stood there, breathing heavily, sweaty and completely exhausted.

The air in the room was heavy, thick with the echo of what had just happened. Chris still didn't let go of you, his hands firmly planted on your hips as his fingers traced soft circles on your skin, an absolute contrast to the intensity of the moment before. Your breathing was ragged, and you felt weak, leaning against the table as your body shook slightly with the last waves of pleasure running through your legs.

Chris leaned forward, his chest warm against your back, and his lips found your neck once more, this time with a softness that contrasted with everything that had just happened. His kisses were slow, deliberate, as if he were making sure you were okay. You shivered at the touch of his skin, but this time not from the urgency of desire, but from the warmth he radiated.

“Are you okay?” he murmured close to your ear, his voice now much softer, almost a whisper.

You nodded slowly, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder. His eyes were still dark, but there was something different in them, something more tender, as if a part of him was regaining the control he had lost in the passion of the moment.

“I’m okay…” you whispered, a tired smile appearing on your lips.

Chris smiled back, that mischievous smile that always managed to make you feel weak, but this time there was a warmth to it, something beyond pure desire. He pulled away slowly, his hands leaving your hips to help you up. When you turned to face him, your legs trembled slightly, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you to steady you.

“You went crazy under the desk,” he said mockingly, his smile widening as he helped you sit on the edge of the table.

You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to regain your composure. “You don’t seem to have had it so bad…”

Chris leaned into you, his nose brushing yours, and for a second, the world around you seemed to fade away. He kissed you again, but this time there was no urgency, no overwhelming hunger. Just a soft, sweet kiss that made your heart beat faster, but for very different reasons than before.

When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your thighs, caressing them gently as you both remained silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness. The sexual tension that had filled the air had dissipated, leaving a calmer feeling, though still charged with something deeper.

“You know the chat probably noticed, right?” he said, breaking the silence, but with a mischievous smile on his face.

You blushed immediately, remembering what you had done while he was live, and you looked at him with narrowed eyes, feigning indignation.

“Well, you were the one who couldn’t keep control,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm, though your face betrayed your embarrassment.

Chris laughed, a low, husky sound that made you shudder again. “Me? The one who couldn’t keep control?” he repeated, his hands squeezing your thighs lightly, bringing a smile to your lips. You’re a tease, and you know it.

You stared at him, biting your bottom lip as you leaned into him. “And you seem to love it, don’t you?”

Chris looked at you with those intense eyes that always managed to make your heart race. “I love it more than I should.”

The atmosphere softened a little, though you knew the spark between you would never completely go away. The “friends with benefits” relationship you had built was dangerous, intense, but there was also a connection that went beyond the physical. It was clear that what you had wasn’t simply a game of teasing; there was something deeper that you both avoided openly acknowledging.

“What’s going to happen after this?” you asked in a whisper, almost as if you feared the answer.

Chris watched you silently for a moment, and you could see in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing too. It wasn’t just a question of what had happened today, but what this meant for you in the future. But instead of giving you a direct answer, he simply smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice calm, but laden with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “But I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to enjoy this moment.”

And with those words, he hugged you tighter, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t walk away. At that moment, you decided to do the same. Not to think about what it meant, or the future, or the complications. Just to enjoy what you were experiencing together.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ✮

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo

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yuzuocha · 9 months ago

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KITH? KITH. [PT. I]

kissing hcs for xavier and zayne, let's go. rafayel and sylus will be in pt. 2.

warnings ‣ there might be a little steam, but thats it

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ.

— when one usually shoots a glance towards the sleepy, cryptic, book-and-meat-loving hunter, they would see him as a reticent, passive lover who doesn't show much affection – especially physical ones – towards his partner.

— well, it isn't as if they were completely wrong, per se. however, the impression they had of Xavier when it came to romantic endeavors couldn't have been more wrong – especially when it came to kissing.

— in most cases, his kisses are sweet and gentle, just like his demeanor. he loves planting them all over you. your cheek, your temple, your ear, your shoulder, your palm – you name it, he most definitely enjoys it. hell, even if it's the bridge of your foot, your thigh or the back of your neck.

— he definitely has a preference to give than to receive, though he's more than happy to be gifted with a smooch. his mouth-to-mouth, on the other hand, couldn't be more different.

— it's as if a switch turns on whenever he touches your lips with his.

— xavier didn't actually have any experience in kissing beforehand – or so he says – but his trained instincts, senses and perception swiftly kicked in and turned his clumsy kisses into (literal) breathtaking ones.

— his direct kisses never fail in threatening your knees to buckle underneath his touch, and he knows what drives you insane – nipping your bottom lip and swiping his tongue to soothe the small bite, cupping your neck into a more favorable angle with one hand while the other tipping your chin upwards to make the kiss deeper and your breaths shorter.

— and then xavier sweetly pecks your lips as if he didn't just ravish you in your entirety.

— it's also important to mention that he's hardly shy, contrary to his sloth-like nature. he is bold and open in his ways of affection and would care less for pressing lips together in public regardless if there was no audience or a stadium filled with them.

— still, he'd prefer more private spaces simply because the sight of you is something that is for his eyes only – nobody should ever see that dazed expression of yours other than him. possessive? yeah. but do i love it? yeah??

"very pretty." xavier whispered, breaking the string of saliva that connected him to you. all you could do was weakly nod back like an idiot. you couldn't tell whether the droplets on your face were sweat or tears.

or perhaps it's both.

xavier leaned down once more and gave a final kiss so gentle that your knees threatened to give out. your lips didn't have time to feel cold after xavier pulled away — he had one hand cup your jaw and cheek and had the other hand's thumb brush your swollen lips.

as the corners of his lips curled upwards,

the clumsy xavier had long been buried six feet under — and that's assuming that inexperienced side existed in the first place.

ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ.

— he's a surgeon. he has incredible dexterity and control. just in what world would you ever think he's awkward at kissing of all things? it's kinda ironic that zayne likes kissing despite knowing the amount of germs spread between the two are numbers that'd make any doctor froth at their mouth, though.

— despite his fondness for this activity, you're usually the one who gives small pecks and not the other way around. though, it isn't necessarily his fault – he's a doctor. a chief cardiac surgeon, at that.

— he doesn't sleep as much as he should to begin with, it's difficult to see you outside of check-ups and your occasional crashing at his place, and even at home he has to continue reading papers and study to not lose his edge.

— don't worry, however. he's largely upset about his quantity of kissing you. he just doesn't show it that much – so he uses those feelings to make the scarce kisses count.

— his kisses are slow but steady, allowing half-second pauses for you to breathe and his hand gently around your neck for support – indeed, a true gentleman. at the end of each kiss, it always leaves you feeling oh-so warm and soft, as if he swaddled you up in the coziest blanket in the world.

— during certain moments nightly activities ehehehehe, he still retains that loving finesse and control. he's someone who cherishes every single moment of contact, a perfectionist even in romantic endeavors.

— god bless zayne.

you could feel his hand twisting the door's lock.

clack. chief cardiac surgeon zayne really doesn't want to be interrupted at this moment.

but you couldn't afford to divert your attention to something like that; with one of zayne's hands gently combing through your hair and the other returning to your jaw, his gentle yet deep kisses only grew in intensity. the taste of sweet mint lingered, but it didn't do much in cooling you down.

he pulled away for half a second, letting you exhale and take in another breath.

"it's astounding how you dropped by just when i was missing you most."

you were about to respond, yet zayne returned to kissing – they were mellow and delicate yet meltingly profound, very much attuned to his inner nature.

it was a long moment before zayne opened his eyes and released your mouth with a soft 'pop'. he locked gazes with your dazed, nearly lovesick expression, his eyes somehow growing softer than his kisses at the sight. he trailed his hand towards yours while looping his fingers around your own.

"is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

you were too busy melting in your feelings for him to construct a response.

tysm for reading! comment down below or message me if you'd like to be a part of the taglist, and if you can, please do consider reblogging! it helps out a lot ;; w ;; and and!! my inbox is open for requests! PLEASE SEND SOME ASDJQVEJWHE I NEED THEM

taglist! | @kttriangle | @sncrly0urs | @anxiousgoddest

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silverhairedsovereign · 1 month ago

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Jacked and Kind

Their reaction after you ask them to do the TikTok trend "Slim Pickins" where they had to lift you on their shoulder.

content: soft, fluff, teasing, playful love

you can request, just comment! ( I'm still

trying to get the hang of tumblr)

now playing: Out Of My League by Fitz and The Tantrums

—SYLUS—

“You already know I’m the only one who can handle you.”

The moment you even mention the trend to Sylus, he doesn't just smirk—he practically grins. The look on his face is the kind that makes your stomach flutter in the worst—and best—ways.

“Oh, this?” he says, waving his hand dismissively, already sizing you up. “I could do this with my eyes closed.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, really? So you think you can lift me?”

“I know I can,” he replies, his tone dripping with arrogance.

Without another word, he steps toward you, his fingers brushing yours for just a moment before he pulls you into his arms. You have no time to protest or even think—he just does it.

His grip is firm, like a confident god of strength who knows exactly what he’s doing. When he lifts you, it’s with a fluid, almost lazy motion that has you gasping. The way he spins you, though? Pure grace—a showman, a professional. He moves like a man who’s done this a thousand times, completely in control.

And then—he looks at you. Really looks at you, his eyes narrowing in a playful challenge as he spins you once more.

“Told you,” he says with a cocky smirk. “I’m built different.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him. And when he sets you down, he doesn’t release you immediately. No, he holds you a moment longer, as if savoring the power he has over you—he knows how you feel. He knows you’re already slipping deeper.

When the video’s over, Sylus doesn’t bother to check it for perfection. He already knows it’s flawless. Instead, he watches it back, not for the usual reasons, but to admire the way his jawline looks when he lifts you, and the way you’re gazing up at him. The look on your face? It drives him crazy.

“I might let you try again,” he says casually, tossing the phone aside, “but you’ll have to earn it.”

—XAVIER—

“I’ll always catch you.”

When you mention the “Slim Pickins” trend to Xavier, there’s a long pause. He tilts his head, evaluating you like you just gave him an equation to solve, but with a flicker of curiosity behind his eyes. It’s not so much about whether he can do it—it’s about how effortlessly he can dominate the moment.

“Lift you?” he says, voice almost amused, “If I’m going to do this, it’ll be right. You’re not going to just spin around like some amusement park ride.”

You grin, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s not playing. He’s calculating. There’s a certain type of precision Xavier brings to everything, and this won’t be any different.

Without asking for further instruction, he strides toward you, grabbing your waist in a way that makes it feel like it’s both deliberate and instinctive. No warnings. No dramatic buildup. Just his firm, steady grip on you as he effortlessly lifts you off the floor, bringing you flush against his shoulder.

Your breath hitches, but you can’t even be surprised. The man doesn’t do things halfway. When he spins you, it’s smooth. Measured. You can tell by the way he moves, the way he holds you, that this isn’t about performing for an audience—it’s about you.

He keeps his eyes locked on you the entire time, his gaze softening just slightly—because this moment is just for the two of you. You can feel it in the way his hands don’t falter, even as he twirls you once, slow, savoring the moment.

“I’ll always catch you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, his lips almost brushing your ear.

The spin ends. You’re dizzy, breathless, caught in the gravity of Xavier’s touch, but it’s the quiet look he gives you after that leaves your heart hammering. You swear you see something soft in his eyes, just for a second, before he’s back to his usual cool composure.

“Perfect,” he says, straightening himself up. “That’s how it’s done.”

Later, when he watches the video, Xavier doesn’t act overly impressed—of course not. But he does run his fingers through his hair, catching a glimpse of the way his jawline looks in the frame, and then you catch him replaying it, just once more. His eyes linger on the way you looked at him, his lips twisting into a small, satisfied smile.

“I told you,” he mutters quietly to himself, “I’ve got this.”

But when he turns to you, there’s no smugness, no cocky grin. Just a quiet confidence, the kind that only Xavier knows how to wear.

—RAFAYEL—

“Don’t tempt me if you’re not ready for the consequences.”

When you mention the trend to Rafayel, he just grins. That grin. You know it’s coming—the one that means he’s already making a plan in his head. A plan where he’s the center of attention. He’s the star, the drama, the flair, the whole damn show.

“You want me to lift you? Spin you? Sweetheart, you’re gonna need to be ready for me to make this unforgettable.”

You laugh at his cockiness, but it’s clear—he’s all in.

Without another word, he takes your hand and pulls you toward the center of the room. His eyes shine with mischief as he shuffles his feet, getting into position, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s casually flexing—like he’s preparing for a performance.

“Stand still. Let me show you how it’s done.”

You barely have time to blink before his arms are around you. His grip is secure, but there’s still a fluidity to his movements, like he’s done this a hundred times in his head—but now, it’s for real.

He spins you with the smoothness of a dancer, his laugh melodic as your feet leave the ground. The camera shakes slightly, but it’s nothing compared to the way your heart beats as you look up at him. That look he gives you? Pure mischief and challenge, like he knows you’re already falling harder. And you are.

“I told you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he spins you again, just a little too fast. “No one can lift you like I can.”

And then, with one final dramatic flourish, he dips you low—so low you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. Instead, he pulls away just as quickly and gives you a teasing smile.

“You’re welcome, babe.”

The video is pure art, and when it’s posted, it gets way more attention than you anticipated. Rafayel doesn’t care, though. He adores it. Every comment, every heart. But more than that, he loves the way you look at him, like you’re seeing him for the masterpiece he truly is.

Later that night, he’s already planning the next “performance.” He looks at you with that grin.

“You’re doing it with me next, right? You wouldn’t want to miss out on the magic, would you?”

—ZAYNE—

“Don’t fall for me. Too late.”

You bring up the "Slim Pickins" trend, and Zayne doesn't immediately react. Instead, he raises an eyebrow like he's trying to figure out if this is a joke or a test of some kind.

“You want me to spin you?” he asks, voice flat. “I don’t know... sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

But his eyes are already scanning the room, sizing up where he’ll stand, making sure the space is clear. He crosses his arms, leaning against the wall, but it’s clear that he’s not going to let this go untested.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to do some over-the-top move. This isn’t one of those ‘show-off’ TikTok trends.”

You grab your phone, get into position, and wait for him to come closer. He studies you for a second, then steps into the right stance—his usual controlled precision showing as he holds out his hand. You take it, feeling the strength there, but there’s no teasing smile, no playful taunt. Just a simple, low key statement from him:

“I don’t need to be flashy. Just trust me.”

And when he lifts you, it’s effortless. His grip is firm but not overbearing, his stance calculated as he holds you easily. You don’t feel a single ounce of uncertainty, only the surprising softness in his expression that he rarely lets anyone see.

As he spins you, slow and steady, you realize this isn’t just a casual lift—this is his version of intimacy. No fanfare, no public displays—just you, him, and the soft whisper of his breath in your ear as he keeps his gaze focused on you the entire time.

“You alright?” he asks, voice quiet.

You nod, breathless. The TikTok ends, and he sets you down with a gentle ease that feels almost too gentle for the Zayne you know.

Afterward, he doesn’t act like it’s a big deal—no smug smile, no victory dance. But later, when you're going over the video together, you catch him rewinding the clip, watching it closely. His lips twitch upward slightly, the faintest hint of pride, before he looks away quickly, as if trying to hide it.

“Next time, warn me when you’re going to ask for something ridiculous.”

But you see it. The way he looks at you in the video, like he’s ready to fight anyone who dares challenge his place beside you.

—CALEB—

“This is the best day of my LIFE!”

When you mention doing the “Slim Pickins” trend, Caleb practically jumps off the couch. No hesitation. No questions. Just excitement.

“Wait, really? YES! I’ve been waiting for something like this!” His voice is so full of energy it makes you laugh.

He’s already in motion, practically dragging you to the center of the room before you can even explain what you need. The excitement is infectious, and you can feel your own heart start to race as he pulls you closer.

“Okay, okay, okay—here we go! Hold on tight!” he says, his voice just a little too over-the-top as he lifts you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

There’s no fear, no hesitation, just sheer joy as he spins you—fast, maybe a little too fast—but it’s all in good fun. His laugh is contagious, and when you both stop, slightly dizzy from the spinning, you realize he’s absolutely beaming at you.

“Did you see that? Was that good? I swear, I could lift you forever.”

The video is a mess—you're both laughing too hard, the camera shaking, but that doesn’t stop Caleb from loving it. He insists on redoing it because, as he puts it:

“I didn’t get my hair right. Let me try again.”

Every time he spins you, he gives you the biggest grin, his eyes practically glowing. This isn’t just about the trend—this is Caleb, enjoying the moment, living in it with you. And when the final video is done, he posts it, captioning it with:

If you think this is fun, just wait until I pick her up for real.

You can’t help but laugh. He’s so genuine, so infectious in his energy. And when you watch the video together, you notice how incredibly proud he is—like he’s just won a trophy, and you’re the prize.

Wazzup, thanks for reading! If you have any suggestions, comment down bellow:) (been experimenting with them banners, lmao) byeee - Zane 𖹭

#sylus fluff #zayne fluff #xavier fluff #rafayel fluff #caleb fluff #lads xavier #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads caleb #lads rafayel #lads #love and deepspace #love #trending #couple #cute #sweet #fanfic #silverhairedsovereign

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writing-for-life · 4 months ago

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Tales from the Flat Earth by Tanith Lee

A few thoughts on the supposed similarities with The Sandman—with actual comparisons (and a summary of the most important beats for those who want it)…

[This post is super long. It contains a lot of different thoughts, that’s why I broke it down into three parts: 1. General Considerations, 2. Boroson’s Claims and 3. A beat-by-beat summary of all five volumes of Tales from the Flat Earth. You might want to read this in instalments, or you might want to leave part three if you are still planning to read any of the five volumes.]

Part One: General Considerations

By now, many of you will have heard of Tanith Lee’s series “Tales from the Flat Earth”—not because the world all of a sudden woke up to a literary genius, but because of a Facebook post by Matthew Boroson in the immediate aftermath of the sexual assault allegations against Neil Gaiman. Boroson now made a further statement that he will “delete […] challenges so he can live”. I completely get the exhaustion of a post going viral—been there, got the T-Shirt—but why not just ignore it? Switch off notifications or comments altogether? Actively censoring only the people with different opinions, whom he even admits have mostly been engaging in good faith, because “he can’t do this 24/7”, while leaving up those in agreement (apparently he can do that 24/7)? He might not have thought through how bad this looks, and the irony of a man silencing dissenting voices and trying to control the conversation really shouldn’t be lost on people. But apparently, it is.

Anyway: I have absolutely no desire to defend Neil Gaiman. As should be clear from my blog, I stand with Gaiman’s victims and have done so since last summer when the allegations first broke. I believe those women, for both personal and professional reasons I won’t go into here. And I believe them, whether some author guy tells me I should or not. What grates on me is that this overshadows what’s actually important here, and I’ll get to why in a second.

I love Tanith Lee’s Tales from the Flat Earth and have read them first in the 1990s, and quite a few times since. For that very reason, I wish people would just read her work without trying to engage in a “gotcha” that is still all about Gaiman and not her. She was a great and talented writer who deserves more than now forever being known as “the woman whom Neil Gaiman plagiarised”. And to say it quite frankly: The sexual assault allegations can stand on their own and don’t need a male writer telling us, verbatim, “I have no difficulty believing the accusations against him. Because I know — KNOW — that he has felt entitled to take what he wants from a woman, without her permission, and without any acknowledgement of her contributions.”

I can’t even begin to say how problematic this statement is, for so many reasons. So all I’ll say is:

There is a certain tone-deafness in thinking a sexual assault claim holds even more weight because a male writer says, “See, he did this, so you should also believe that.” We should believe SA victims. Full stop. We don’t need wonky plagiarism or “inspiration without credit”-claims to give them more weight. These two things shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence.

But all of that aside: Read Tanith Lee’s “Tales from the Flat Earth” because you are interested in a writer who crafted imaginative worlds in a florid prose-style that hearkens back to old fairy tales and Arabian Nights. If you only want to read it for a “gotcha”, I might be able to spare you the arduous work, although I strongly recommend you read it to come to your own conclusions (go to the source yourself. And I honestly wish more people did before they just blindly believe things). Again, spare a thought though if Tanith deserves to be “the woman NG plagiarised” to a new audience, because let’s be honest—that’s the only reason why so many people now read her works.

And that’s exactly why I thought so long and hard whether to even write this post, but there comes a point when people who actually know both works in depth need to speak up about the informational conformity bias that now has us at over 30,000 notes on Tumblr alone, all the while the person who put this into the world seems to actively censor anyone who dares to disagree. I get that Boroson’s claim is what a lot of people want to believe right now, but that doesn’t make it more true. Someone even said that “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because only the result does.” That’s an incredibly dumb and also dangerous statement, but I’ll leave it at that.

Horrible people can create good art. We don’t need to pretend they were always hacks. We have to learn to sit with that cognitive dissonance and can disassociate ourselves from the creator regardless—because he’s an abuser.

Part Two: Boroson’s Claims

With all of that out of the road, let’s have a closer look at all that Boroson alleges in his FB post; quotes are verbatim.

1. “Despite the fact that the main character — a byronic, pale, otherworldly, deity-like character - is the prince of night and dreams.”

Here, we already have the first bit of wrong information. Azhrarn is one of the Lords of Darkness. He is the Prince of Demons. He is evil-aligned. He is not a “prince of dreams”. He is “Night’s Master” because he only walks the earth at night, and sunlight is lethal (oh?) for him. He is really nothing like Dream. One is all about rules and responsibilities, the other is about inconsistency, wickedness, mischief, changing his mind on a whim and treating humans as playthings (which he repeatedly admits himself). You could build a much stronger case for similarities between Azhrarn and Lucifer/Iblis (and Loki if you wanted to go Norse) than Dream, because Azhrarn actually hates the gods, and Lee’s whole series builds very strongly on how he (and then someone else) tries to bring them down. And Azhrarn might be older than gods, but whether he is truly more powerful depends on how you look at it—he even asks them for help at some point. Dream, on the other hand, is more than the gods. They begin in his realm, and they end there when people stop believing. Because gods come from the collective unconscious—and that’s who and what Dream is.

2. “Despite the fact that every time people see art depicting Tanith Lee's main character Azhrarn, they think it's Morpheus from the Sandman.”

This is interesting since the depiction Boroson chose for his FB claim is fanart. If you claim something like this, at least use original artwork, not works that have already gone through 20 subconscious filters. If you look at original art, you get this:

Azhrarn in the middle, Uhlume (Lord Death) to the right, Chuz (Lord Madness) to the left. And in the other picture, Azrharn in his eagle form. Which is just weird, soz. But that’s why he has feathers on his garb.

Maybe there’s a fleeting similarity in the one to the left, but there’s also literally none in the one to the right. And if you have ever read any dark fantasy of the 1980s and 90s (and even earlier), pretty much the majority of male protagonists fitted the stereotype of “pale, clad in black and byronic”. It was a dark fantasy trope—goths read that stuff in droves (I was one of them). And it became even more likely if the hero/antihero/villain was somehow aligned with the underworld. Which Azhrarn is.

And since artists are always influenced by other artworks and their own mental image of a character, have an actual description of Azhrarn’s looks from “Night’s Master”:

“marvelously handsome, with hair that shone like blue-black fire, and clothed in all the magnificence of night.”

But we also get this when he makes a not so great experience:

“He gazed to east and west, to north and south, and the face of Azhrarn, it is truly said, had become white. Long he looked, and long his pallor increased. A mortal man could not grow so pale and live.”

So we can reasonably deduce that he isn’t usually as white as Morpheus in his main form (I don’t know what else to call it)?

There are many other descriptions of a similar ilk. Is this really enough to say they look the same? Really? Instead of admitting that we might be filling in some blanks here if descriptions are so vague?

3. “Despite the fact that the dream lord's younger sibling is Death.”

That one truly made me laugh out loud. Apart from the fact that Gaiman’s Death is older and female (which one could say was a purposeful switch to “hide the tracks” 🙄)—only the least read people would assume this was in any way new or sensational and “borrowed” from any one particular writer. Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death) are twin brothers in Greek mythology. And the closeness of Death and Dream in The Sandman (both conceptually and on a relational level) is much more of a mirror of that than the relationship between Azhrarn and Uhlume in Tales from the Flat Earth, because in all honesty: The latter two don’t get on that well, which Boroson conveniently forgets to mention. Their relationships are really nothing alike.

Hypnos is also a deity residing in the underworld, and you have to cross the river Lethe (forgetfulness/oblivion) to get to him. Lee borrows from that idea very heavily when she tells the story of Kazir visiting Azhrarn in Underearth. These are myths, told and retold by hundreds of writers over and over again, including Lee herself.

I don’t even know what to say about this one. It’s so thin that it immediately blows away if you as much as cough at it.

4. “Despite the fact that other members of his family include Delusion, Delirium.... They are not gods but beings older than gods, and when the gods die, Dream, Death, Delusion, and Delirium will remain. This family of immortal, eternal, unchanging beings, who each embody an eternal abstraction starting with the letter D.”

There are only two Lords of Darkness beginning with a D, and they are called Uhlume (Death) and Chuz (Delusion). Azhrarn is Wickedness.

There is no Dream, as I already stated. And guess what? There is also no separate Delirium. So wrong facts again. The character is Delirium’s Mistress (or at least that’s the title of the volume), and in that case, we are referring to her as being the lover of Chuz (so Delusion and Delirium are effectively the same person). And her name is Azhriaz; she is half human, half demon (and something else, but that would be too spoilery) and Azhrarn’s daughter. She looks like this in original artwork (sorry for the crappola photo):

Without wanting to give too much plot away because some of you might still want to read this: There are three Lords of Darkness (or one could argue five—more about that later) in Lee’s Tales, but they don’t all begin with a D—neither if you look at their names (their initials are A, U, C, K and A), nor at their functions (in which case it’s W, D, D, F and L).

Okay, the domains of two Lords of Darkness start with D. Is it really enough to be sure Gaiman borrowed from it, turning it into seven? Or is it perhaps far more likely that this still falls into the realm of literary archetypes? And even if Gaiman did expand on that idea—that’s not plagiarism (which, to say it very clearly, Boroson didn’t explicitly say it was. He just implied it a bit between the lines, and other people who probably didn’t read either ran with it). I don’t think it would even constitute “heavy borrowing”, especially since the characters, their relationships and the stories as such are so, so different.

Why is Boroson’s account riddled with inaccuracies? Why be so wrong in your descriptions of a work you supposedly know so well? I really don’t know. It’s either that he doesn’t know it as well as he says he does (which I can’t imagine, since he’s apparently been going on about this for years), or he purposefully misrepresents it to add more weight to it. Which looks bad to be honest. Or at least as if he’s a bit too taken with an idea and at the stage where he can’t let it go anymore.

5. “[…] description of a character who was clearly the inspiration for Gaiman’s Mazikeen.”

That’s also Chuz. As depicted in the art above, and also here:

One side of him is young and beautiful, the other old. I’ll let you decide if this is clearly the inspiration for Mazikeen:

“So she beheld the entire aspect of his face, one half youthfully bronzed, one half haggardly gray, the rusty hair and the blond, but it seemed to her it was the most natural face she had ever looked on.”

And to say it quite frankly: Framing it like that is a bit dishonest to start with? It’s not the description of “a character”. It’s the volume’s protagonist. Whom Boroson earlier insisted was the inspiration for Delirium (also a bit wonky that one, as I already wrote, since I bet most of the people who don’t know Lee’s work pictured her Delirium as a woman after reading Boroson’s account). But now it’s Mazikeen all of a sudden? Leaving out he’s actually talking about the same character here looks like wilfully obfuscating that neither of it truly holds water, so he’s picking little bits and offers them without context.

Mazikeen is a visual creation of Kelley Jones btw, so maybe Boroson should also take it up with him? The same could be said to everyone who might feel tempted to shoehorn a certain other character (DC’s Destiny) into this, woefully forgetting that Destiny is not a character created by Gaiman. He has existed in the DC Universe years before Lee wrote Tales from the Flat Earth. I don’t hear anyone complaining that Lee stole Kheshmet/Fate from DC because it would be quite frankly idiotic—these are literary archetypes!

6. “The prose, the characters, the narrative strategies, the mythology, the story structure, all of it: Gaiman found it all in Tanith Lee's writing and never gave her any credit.”

The prose is really hard to compare because one is a novel, the other a comic. I really recommend you read both yourself so you get the full picture, but just two examples here:

Tanith Lee:

“A mile from the enameled walls of the city, where the desert lay gleaming like golden glass, a beautiful woman sat in a stone tower, and she played with a bone.

“Will he come to me today?” she asked the bone, rocking it in her arms like a child. “Or will he seek me tonight? All the stars will shine, but he will shine more brightly. For sure, he dare not come by day, for he would outshine the sun. The sun would die of shame, and the whole world grow dark. But oh, he will come. Nemdur,” said the beautiful woman, “Nemdur, my lord.”

Her name was Jasrin; Nemdur was the king whose city stood one mile to the east. Once, he had been her husband.

No longer.”

Neil Gaiman:

As someone who’s read both many times over, my personal assessment is:

They are not very alike. Lee writes floridly, Gaiman is often fairly to the point. Even in Ramadan, which is one (out of 75!) issues that closest resembles the style of Arabian Nights (which is Lee’s inspiration), his voice seems distinct to me—as is hers. Lee’s prose always struck me as great, Gaiman’s as good (I always loved his world building more than his actual writing style). I think Lee’s prose is more accomplished, but that’s personal taste.

Characters: I already expanded on it.

Narrative strategy: This is so vague. Does he mean perspective? Point of view? Other narrative strategies like foreshadowing?

Since I don’t know what exactly Boroson is referring to because he likes to keep it nebulous, I really can’t say, but I don’t think the way the stories are told are in any way alike. And where they seem similar (“Night’s Master”, as an example, is told as interconnected stories in the style of Arabian Nights with a throughline. And of course the Sandman also contains some interconnected stories with a throughline, although they are in no way reminiscent of Arabian Nights to me, bar Ramadan), I seriously have to ask again:

Do we believe only one writer utilises these strategies and/or has a monopoly on them? Because there are truly only so many of them to go around. And we could say that Lee’s “narrative strategy” is hardly unique either. This is just a bit silly.

Mythology: Just no. Both Lee and Gaiman use themes that have been there a million times before them, I already brushed on it. Both lean heavily into existing mythologies, with Gaiman more into Greek, and Lee into Near- and Middle Eastern one (especially Mesopotamian/Babylonian—there are some parallels between her characters and deities like Nergal, Sin/Nanna and Ninazu), although they both also use others. But the bottom line is: Both have expanded on long existing mythologies.

Story structure: Again, what is Boroson insinuating here? He is truly the master of vagueness.

To say it very directly: The story structure is not the same. If you look at The Sandman in its entirety, it’s a clear three act tragedy with a lot of Hero’s Journey thrown-in. The fact that it’s told in 10 arcs changes nothing about that—you can clearly make out Campbell’s stages, like Call to Adventure, Crossing the First Threshold, Belly of the Whale… you name it. This is long enough already, but look at Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, and it’s fairly obvious (and no, the hero doesn’t always have to survive).

Tales from the Flat Earth have a throughline in their five volumes, but they are connected more loosely, with the odd referential throwback. Only “Delusion’s Master” and “Delirium’s Mistress” have an ongoing narrative (of sorts). “Night’s Sorceries” always seemed like an afterthought of material Lee would have liked in volume four but couldn’t fit in. They are all told in a way that hearkens back to oral storytelling (hence Lee saying she was inspired by 1001 Nights), and there is a clear sense of an unchanging, but not personally involved storyteller/narrator all the way through who sometimes even offers commentary.

7. ��Tanith Lee was far more progressive about Igbtq+ identities, and that was twenty years earlier.”

Well, for starters: Ten years earlier (“Night’s Master” was published in 1978, the first issue of The Sandman in 1988).

Is Tales from the Flat Earth truly more progressive? I’m not sure. Both were progressive for their time, simply because they wrote about LGBTQ+ characters at all and gave them a voice. And to put it in a disclaimer: I don’t apply moral purity standards to fiction, neither do I believe certain things that would be problematic in real life can’t be written about in fiction (and dare I say: I find that take worrying, for many reasons, but that’s a different discussion). But if we’re talking about “progressiveness”:

A clearly bisexual Demon Prince grooms a child to then seduce him on his 16th birthday—in a time when gay men were often still thrown into one pot with groomers and even pedophiles?

A lesbian queen who basically gets cursed to have sex with many, many men because only a pregnancy can lift that curse (!), finds out she is barren and can only conceive if she has sex with a dead guy, makes a deal with Uhlume who then brings a man back from the dead so she can be impregnated and then, via many many twists and turns, turns into [I’ll tell you later if you really want to know]?

I don’t know, but it’d probably be the same people who find certain angles of the Sandman problematic who would also bolt or get outraged at this? And they would 100% engage in the same type of revisionist readings they now apply to Gaiman’s works if they ever found out that Lee did anything wrong. There is a lot, and I mean a lot, of rape, SA and questionable power dynamics in Lee’s work. But it’s also a work of fiction.

8. In the 1990s, toward the end of her life, she complained in an interview that magazines weren't buying her stories anymore.

[edit: Lee died in 2015, so Boroson’s claim the 90s were “towards the end of her life” also reads a bit weird to me—as if he’s consciously trying to appeal to the sympathy of his readers by portraying her as “the poor woman on her death bed”, when she still lived for another 20 years]

That’s a bit nebulous again. It’s amazing how some people never quote their sources. I am near certain that Boroson talks about this interview from 1998, but I stand corrected if it’s a different one:

Tanith talks about her troubles getting published, but she also says it’s a hard time for everyone right now. Plus, her bibliography also clearly indicates she still got published on the regular, and that the amount of works published in any given year didn’t really fluctuate all that much apart from a burst in the ‘70s (and “burst” refers to the difference of publishing four books instead of two per year), a dip towards the end of her life (when her output was probably affected by her illness) and then the sad thing that always happens when someone dies: Suddenly, there’s another uptick.

Someone even went through the trouble of visualising her published works in a graph:

Courtesy of Das_Mime

Does this honestly look like no one published her anymore?

Now, don’t get me wrong: Of course it is a nice gesture if those more successful put in a word for those who find themselves in a bit of dry spot. But to turn this almost into some conspiracy theory is just a bit weird if I’m honest. It’s much more likely that people are simply not on someone’s radar than that they are actively trying to hinder their career. Writing is hard. Getting published is hard, even if you already have a few published works under your belt. Ask me how I know…

These were the points Boroson made that I wanted to address directly. For those of you who want to get a feel if the story as such is actually in any way similar enough to even call it heavy borrowing, I’ll now do a summary of all major story beats for all five volumes.

Part Three: Tales from the Flat Earth Beat-by-Beat

I assume that most of my followers are familiar with The Sandman, but only a few with Tanith Lee. Hence I won’t do a summary of The Sandman, and once again: You really have to read both works yourself to understand why Boroson’s claims are so far out there. I’m more than willing to discuss and answer questions that come in good faith, but I’ll say it outright: I am not interested in engaging with anyone who just comes here to peddle conspiracy theories and platitudes like “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because…” if they haven’t even read the works in question.

Just as a quick hint, because that’s where you’ll find the superficial similarities (and that’s my phrasing it with the utmost goodwill):

If you want to compare the entirety of both works, there’s no way around reading both.

For “Night’s Master”, I’d argue you also need to read the entirety of The Sandman, because in a nutshell, it is, at least at first glance, about the heel-face-turn of its protagonist. You’ll need at least Preludes and Nocturnes and The Kindly Ones, but it makes no sense to read them separately, so…

For “Death’s Master”, maybe read The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because it is partly about a queen who wants to save her land (everything else would be too spoilery, but just so much: The similarities are fleeting at best, and that’s already generous).

For “Delusion’s Master”: Again The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because at its very core we have a love story that gets torpedoed by a traitor. But other than that, said love story is truly nothing alike.

For “Delirium’s Mistress”: Honestly, I thought long and hard about this. I really don’t know because it is so different from the Sandman that I see absolutely no parallels at all. Maybe read Brief Lives, because there is something in there about parent/child relationships. But they are hardly unique in literature, so once again: I truly don’t know how anyone could find similarities here. And The Kindly Ones would be such an immense stretch that I won’t even go there.

For “Night’s Sorceries”: There are three stories that give a bit of context to the rest. If anything, I’d say read The Wake. But that would actually be insinuating Azhriaz is Daniel, and I’m like… no, massive stretch. If it’s just about loosely connected stories that somewhat fit into a greater narrative, read “World’s End”. But if we’re thinking that’s already a similarity, I truly cry for literary analysis…

Briefly about the world we’re in: The Flat Earth basically consists of four planes: Upperearth, home of the gods; Earth (the Earth of humans before it changed shape); Underearth, home of Azhrarn, Prince of Demons and Wickedness; Innerearth, home of Uhlume, Lord Death. Azhrarn’s kingdom, Druhim Vanashta, houses three classes of demons: Vazdru (most like Azhrarn himself, beautiful and prone to change into eagles and other animals), Eshva (basically mute servants to the Vazdru who can change gender at will) and Drin (ugly, exclusively male creatures and accomplished creators of beautiful and practical things). All three demon kind frequently visit earth to tempt and create chaos.

Volume One: Night’s Master

Night’s Master begins with Azhrarn finding a dying woman and her newborn son, Sivesh, on a hillside. After her death, Azhrarn becomes captivated by the beauty of the child and takes him back to Underearth to raise him (and then promptly seduces him on his 16th birthday). Azhrarn then creates a woman called Ferazhin from a flower for Sivesh (because, you know, Azhrarn thinks it’s good sport to sample a woman. As one does). However, nothing can prevent Sivesh from longing to live on earth because he is human, and the decision to leave Azhrarn for a life in the light offends the Demon Prince. So he consciously tricks him into death by drowning (by chapter three).

The next storyline shifts to a collar (crafted by a Drin) from Ferazhin’s tears because she is inconsolable. We follow the collar around on its journey to different owners (who all meet a gruesome end in one way or another). The final owner, the blind bard Kazir, is the only one not to get corrupted by it, and we conclude the first book with his journey to Underearth to give the collar back to Azhrarn in exchange for Ferazhin, whom he loves without ever having met her. Azhrarn agrees to let Ferazhin go if Kazir can answer a particular question, which he can (not going to get too deep into that, apart from: Azhrarn is rattled, and we’ll revisit it at the end of this volume). Kazir and Ferazhin are happy for a while, but as usual, Azhrarn changes his mind, and by the end of it, Ferazhin is dead (a bit of a nod to Romeo and Juliet in there, but that just as an aside). But lo and behold, Kazir manages to bring her back after a while, and “somewhere perhaps, some dark door slammed like thunder in a city underground.”

Book Two of Night’s Master focuses on Zorayas, who survived the overthrow of her father (a king) as a newborn but suffered severe disfigurement. After the death of the monk who took care of her, she seeks revenge for being raped by a Prince and takes back her father’s kingdom with the help of the Drin. And, as usual, she meets her demise through trickery orchestrated by Azhrarn.

Book Three. Azhrarn’s cruel prank on a young married couple goes wrong, escalates and ultimately leads to humanity teetering on the brink of destruction (the remnants of the husband turn into Hatred and wipe out everything). After seeking intervention from the gods of Upperearth in vain, Azhrarn makes, for once, a sacrifice to preserve humanity’s existence. But does he do so completely selflessly? Could be argued, and I guess Kazir knew, but that’d be too much of a spoiler… Suffice it to say, Earth enters an age of innocence without the presence of hatred and wickedness. Until… 🤣

Volume Two: Death’s Master

Narasen, Queen of Merh, is sexually assaulted by the magician Issak. Feigning cooperation, she manages to kill him. Before he dies, he curses Narasen and Merh, declaring that both will become barren. The curse can only be lifted if Narasen (we have deduced at this point that she is a lesbian because she “doesn’t lie with men”) gives birth to a child, but includes a stipulation that prevents this solution: “Your reluctant womb will never quicken from the seed of living man.” After numerous attempts to conceive, Narasen, driven by her desire to save her land and people, makes a deal with Uhlume to conceive a child from a dead man. In return, Narasen agrees to spend a thousand years in Uhlume’s kingdom. Narasen is poisoned shortly after childbirth.

After Narasen is locked in her tomb with her newborn child Simmu, Uhlume arrives to claim her, leaving the child behind. However, Simmu is rescued by two passing Eshva and lives with them by night. Simmu develops Eshva abilities, like changing gender at will. Eventually, the Eshva grow tired of Simmu and leave him at a temple near Merh, where he grows up among monks and becomes friends and later lovers with a boy called Zhirem.

Simmu and Zhirem eventually become separated and somewhat turn into the tools of Azhrarn (Simmu hates Death because he remembers him coming for his mother) and Uhlume, respectively.

Meanwhile, Uhlume and Narasen don’t get on too well—Narasen sets herself up as Lady Death and constantly struggles for power. To get her off his back, Uhlume grants her permission to spend a day in Merh, where she promptly destroys her city (yeah, after all that trouble…). Upon her return, she gradually takes over the supervision of Innerearth from Uhlume and turns into “Lady Death.”

Azhrarn saves Simmu during Narasen’s attack on Merh. He instructs Simmu to obtain water from the Cistern of Life (a little throwback to volume one). His plan is to kill Uhlume, hence bringing death to an end. The well is guarded by nine virgins called the Golden Daughters—Simmu makes use of his gender-changing abilities and sneaks into each of their chambers as a woman and then takes their virginity as a man. With their virginity taken, the well cracks, and Simmu founds the City of Simmurad (populated by immortal humans) with the golden daughter Kassafeh (too long-winded to get into it all).

Zhirem has embarked on his own adventures and eventually returns to Earth as the magician Zhirek. He agrees to serve Uhlume, who plans to destroy Simmurad, perceiving it as a threat. With the guidance of Azhrarn, who has grown weary of Simmu and Simmurad (you see, Azhrarn is not very consistent and doesn’t abide by rules nor responsibilities like our boy Morpheus 😉), Uhlume lets Zhirek destroy the city by submerging it under water after re-introducing death via creating and killing an insect. Simmu seemingly dies at the hands of Zhirek, who casts him into a well of fire. Zhirek retires into solitude, and Simmu is ultimately saved by Azhrarn, who transforms him into an Eshva and erases all memories of his past.

The story concludes with Narasen effectively ruling Innerearth and giving death, while Uhlume spends most of his time on Earth, finding solace in the presence of Kassafeh.

Volume Three: Delusion’s Master

We’re starting with a tale about Jasrin, the young wife of King Nemdur of Sheve. Because she is jealous of her newborn child, she abandons him in the desert, where he gets killed by dogs. Nemdur banishes Jasrin to a tower, where her sanity gradually deteriorates. She is visited by Chuz, the Prince of Madness (the third Lord of Darkness). Inquiring about her deepest desires, Jasrin expresses her wish for her husband to share her madness. Nemdur awakens with a crazy plan to construct a towering structure that reaches Upperearth (where the gods live). Inspired by the legend of Simmu, he envisions attaining immortality. The Tower of Babyhelu, aptly named “The Gate to the Gods,” grows and grows until it becomes unstable due to its immense weight, causing it to collapse with catastrophic consequences: The fall of the entire kingdom of Sheve.

Azhrarn and a few of his demons are drawn to the commotion, and a conversation between him and Chuz reignites Azhrarn’s disdain for the gods, who had failed to assist him in “Night’s Master”.

Hundreds of years later, we meet 7,000 pilgrims on their journey across the desert to worship the gods at Bhelsheved (Sheve rebuilt). Azhrarn is incensed that his sacrifice to save humanity in “Night’s Master” is credited to the gods. Disguised as a prophet, he reveals that a Lord of Darkness (not the gods) is the true saviour of humanity. For this, he is lashed with a whip and sheds three drops of blood. Azhrarn continues with his quest to destroy Bhelsheved but is unexpectedly diverted by the beauty of a young priestess named Dunizel. Recognising Azhrarn’s true intentions, Dunizel bravely offers to sacrifice herself to appease his wrath. Azhrarn turns into a wolf and bites off her lower arm, but when she encourages him to bite again instead of showing terror, he hesitates. Reminiscing about his own sacrifice to Hatred, he changes his mind, heals her with his own blood, and falls deeply in love with her.

We then learn the story of Dunizel’s mentally disabled mother, who was held captive by the assistant of an astronomer (who was on a field trip to observe a comet passing by). After impregnating the girl, the assistant attempted to abort the child by exposing her to the comet’s energy as it passed. The girl was instead exposed to a rainbow of light captured by the astronomer’s magical engine, regained her sanity and gave birth to Dunizel, who was also affected by the comet’s light. Dunizel’s mother raised her but gradually transformed into a fire elemental and ascended into the sky. The assistant gave Dunizel to a grieving mother from a nearby village, who raised her until she was chosen to join the religious cult (like her mother, she is also part solar being).

We are panning back to the love story of Dunizel and Azhrarn. Dunizel gives birth to a daughter named Soveh, who is initially mistaken for a goddess on Earth and grows at unnatural speed. Through the workings of Chuz though, the truth about the child’s paternity is revealed, and Dunizel dies at the hands of an angry mob (she also comes into contact with one of the drops of blood Azhrarn had formerly shed in the desert). Devastated, Azhrarn takes Soveh, whom he renames Azhriaz, to Underearth. Before he departs, he addresses Chuz and declares their relationship as “un-brothers, un-cousins, and now, un-friends”. He also reveals he will go to war with him and considers it a kindness he has informed him in advance.

The story concludes with Chuz finding Jasrin, who is haunting her tower, and releasing her.

Volume Four: Delirium’s Mistress

So if you waited for this to start with all-out war between Azhrarn and Chuz, you’ll be disappointed. We meet Oloru, a court jester to tyrannical prince Lak Hezoor. Oloru convinces Lak Hezoor to take him on a sightseeing tour of Underearth. It’s not going well—Lak Hezoor is torn apart by Azhrarn’s red hounds. Oloru transforms into a “slender rod of yellow radiation, vaguely purplishly limned” and flies towards the island where young adult Azhriaz has been sleeping since her arrival in Underearth (it’s a been a few years). Oloru, who is actually Chuz in disguise, awakens her, convinces her to escape, and takes her back to Earth. And of course they become lovers.

Kheshmet (King Fate) enters the story, just like that, and in no time, Azhrarn arrives and ends his quarrel with Chuz— also just like that. But to atone, Chuz has to agree to live a mortal lifetime, disfigured, without his powers and truly mad. Azhriaz initially stays with Chuz, but he forgets who she is.

Azhriaz, now without Chuz, despairs. She visits her mother’s grave with Khesmet and decides to embrace her father’s legacy: discrediting the gods. She replaces a king who committed suicide and ascends to the status of a cruel goddess on Earth, conquering much of the world who revels in her cruelty. Her teachings to humanity are that the gods care nothing for them: “Remember, to the gods, you are nothing. To Azhriaz, the Goddess, you are only grains of dust or sand.”

Khesmet arrives to foretell a looming war with sea and sky.

And weirdly, that war starts because a god, whom Azhrarn kissed in “Night’s Master”, awakens and decides that was sacrilege, plus he’s also not pleased with Azhriaz’s activities on Earth. The gods consequently hurl three shards into the sun that transform into three angels—the Malhukim of the gods: Ebriel, Yabael and Melquar. Azhrarn holds the angels at bay while Azhriaz escapes into the ocean aboard a special fish-ship crafted by the Drin, pursued by Ebriel and Yabael. Azhrarn fights Melquar in the air and narrowly avoids incineration. Azhriaz escapes imprisonment in an underwater city when Yabael destroys it with his sword. She receives no assistance from Azhrarn because he lies in a death-like coma in Druhim Vanashta and has been usurped by the demon Hazrond. Eventually, Azhrarn recovers and reclaims his kingdom. Azhriaz is still pursued by Yabael, who conveniently undergoes a transformation and forgets his mission in the process. Then pursued by Ebriel, she travels with Dathanja (Zhirek making a reappearance) and ultimately engages in an eternal battle with the angel. Realising she’ll be otherwise stuck there forever, she convinces Ebriel to stop by revealing her plan to give up her immortality.

Ebriel departs, snd Azhriaz (who is actually called Atmeh at this point, but that’d lead too far) seeks out Kassafeh for a bargain with Uhlume (who is in the process of abdicating to Narasen) to become mortal. She reunites with Chuz, who has paid his penance, and they stay together for a while until Chuz helps her with her final transformation into a mortal woman.

Atmeh/Azhriaz approaches death after 200 years or so, and is visited by Azhrarn, who tells her, “Humanity is my plaything no longer, only a toy for those that are mine under the earth. But you, you are her child. You are hers. You are Dunizel. Not mine. Never mine. Though I made you to be my curse upon the world. Though I made you to be myself. You are Dunizel, that I loved, Dunizel who was the moon and sun together.” Azhrarn expresses his sadness over his inability to cry, and Azhriaz responds: “Each word you have spoken has been a tear.”

Volume Five: Night’s Sorceries

I wasn’t sure if I should even go into this one, because “Delirium’s Mistress” always seemed like the final volume to me to be honest, and it concluded the story for me. “Night’s Sorceries” is a collection of short stories that seem connected to “Delirium’s Mistress” and fill in some gaps (that’s why each of them has an introduction that explains where we are, and when). So I will only go into three of them (there are seven altogether):

“The Prodigal” is essentially about Narasen’s reign as Queen Death.

“Dooniveh, The Moon” is written like a fairy tale about a monk from Nannafir. He travels to the moon on a winged horse, and by the end of his adventures, we witness the wedding of the Moon Queen and the Sun King. And that’s connected how? Well, the winged horse was a gift from Hazrond (who usurped Azhrarn) to Azhriaz.

“The Daughter of the Magician,” recounts the tale of a magician who successfully resurrects the soul of Azhriaz. But the child, named Ezail, ends up being offered as a sacrifice to a monster. And that’s connected how? Well, the monster was created as the counterpart of the winged horse in “Dooniveh, The Moon.” But Ezail regains Azhriaz’ memory and lo and behold, Chuz just happens to appear in the reincarnation of a young boy named Chavir. Together, they decide to take the monster with them and embark on a life together.

The main reason I did include this volume is that it somewhat puts the former four in context. The last sentence of “Night’s Sorceries” is:

“Love is also an immortal.”

Which somewhat suggests that Azhriaz is operating on the same plane as Azhrarn, Uhlume, Chuz and Kheshmet. And we already get hints at that in the other volumes.

In “Delusion’s Master”, Azhrarn says to Dunizel that their child will be his feminine aspect. It’s just ambiguous enough, but we also get this in “Delirium’s Mistress” when Azhrarn wonders about love: “There is no such commodity. There is carnality, our plaything. There is worship, and there is obsession. Death you may perceive walking the world, and Fate, and Delusion, too, in a form that I have kindly granted him. But no man sees love, and no demon sees it.”

So while many of the stories of Tales from the Flat Earth can stand on their own, there is also an overarching theme: Establishing another power that serves to balance out the others: Wickedness, Death, Delusion, and Fate—Azhriaz’ four “sons” (cryptically mentioned in the final chapter of Delirium’s Mistress)...

#the sandman #sandman #tales from the flat earth #tanith lee #neil gaiman #long post #an in-depth look at #Matthew Boroson’s claims #and a full summary of all five volumes of tales from the flat earth #sandman spoilers #tales from the flat earth spoilers

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cjrae · 1 month ago

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Do Not Feed The Trolls

So, with the Season 2 midpoint of Apothecary Diaries in our rear view mirror, I would first like to welcome all the anime-onlys who now understand why the rest of the fandom breaks into laughter every time the word "frog" appears.

Second, as is inevitable when anything popular goes to a wider audience, there comes a segment of the viewing populace who out and out dislike segments of the story.

Some of them simply were hoping the story would go a different direction.

Some of them are applying legitimate critiques to the material.

And some of them are out and out trolls.

You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones who look at a relationship with imbalanced power dynamics, scream, "Ew, A Toxic Relationship!" and immediately start lambasting anyone in the fandom who doesn't fall into line with their obviously "ethical" stance with no regard for for plot, characterization or theme.

These people are trolls, so here is your reminder. Please do not feed the trolls.

There is no benefit to trying to discuss the material with them, because this is not actually about Apothecary Diaries (or any other fandom, for that matter). They are making these broad, sweeping arguments in bad faith and when others attempt to argue, they apply shaming tactics to shut down discussion. Fall in line, or be labeled 'toxic' yourself.

These are the same bad faith arguments that lead to analysis such as "Beauty and the Beast is a story about Stockholm syndrome" or "Cinderella is a story about waiting for a prince to come and rescue a helpless girl." (And others, but these are the two examples that come immediately to mind). They rely on a very shallow interpretation of the source material and combine it with a veneer of social commentary.

But this has nothing to do with virtue. This is purity culture. This is about control. Specifically, it is about control over what people are "allowed" to enjoy. If the relationship does not act as a morality tale, then it is "problematic" and must be destroyed.

Trying to control others is the root of toxic behavior. In other words, they are telling on themselves.

Some of them can and will figure this out and eventually move on to more nuanced discussion about the issues they genuinely care about. But there are plenty of trolls out there who thrive on the attention they get when they toss a reductive, overly simplified moral argument into a sea of fans (especially if it involves any type of shipping) and bask in the churn as people who are enjoying the material feel like they need to defend themselves or the characters they've come to care about.

The only winning move is not to play.

#the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto #jinshi #maomao #jinmao #jinshi x maomao #jinshi and maomao #on fandom #purity culture #toxic relationship

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 5 months ago

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The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 5

Source for pic

Trouble 5

Word Count: 4660

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Ohhhh, we about to start shaking things up by the next chapter! I'm so freaking excited!!! I hope you like this one, tell me all about it!

Masterlist

“Wow.” When Nami said yacht, you thought of one of those sleek, modern-looking boats. Not a pirate ship lookalike. “This is cool.” You state, still in awe at the monstrous ship you're staring at.

“It's suuuuuuper cool!” Franky exclaims, more excited than anyone on the dock, and you can't help but agree with him.

The ‘few people’ Nami mentioned are definitely more than twenty - you stop counting - but you recognize some of them: school friends or some neighboring kids from growing up. Others are Franky’s coworkers and buddies, and then there's an array of people that are friends of a friend.

Anybody who's anybody wants to be at Franky’s party.

And Zoro’s going to be late.

You sigh, taking the steps on the plank that leads up to the ship's deck as Nami shoulder-bumps you. “He'll be here, love.” Vivi stifles a giggle when you groan in embarrassment at being caught. You don't even pretend to be thinking about something else, it's all futile with these girls. “In the meantime, let's get you some liquid courage so you can loosen up when he gets here.”

-*-

Zoro had a terrible shift. He hates doing paperwork. It's all so utterly boring. But Captain Mihawk is always grinding him, so he needs to file his reports or he risks getting on the Captain’s bad side. And that's something Zoro would like to avoid if possible. He’s pushed Mihawk’s buttons more than once.

He doesn't want to go back to traffic control.

Still, even though what he wished for most at this moment was to pop a cold one, prop his feet on the coffee table, and pretend to watch something on TV until his eyelids drooped down from exhaustion, he's rowing a freaking tiny boat, to get to a huge freaking ship, to attend Franky’s freaking party.

Just because you're there.

And he freaking wants to spend time with you.

Even though he's arriving at the party two and a half hours late - who the fuck changed the road to get to the dock? - just so he can see you.

Fucking heart.

With a grunt and a final sigh, he stops the boat near Franky’s ship and uses the ladder his friend left for him to climb aboard. Much like a freaking pirate.

Then, after a few ‘hellos’ to familiar faces, he makes his way to the bar to grab that cold beer he was craving before settling against the railing on the upper deck to get a good view of the party.

He won't even pretend that he's not looking for you. It's exactly what he's doing.

Somehow, his eye zeroes in on you in a split second. And it's not only because of the fact that he always finds you but because you are attracting attention to yourself. And not only because of the insane flailing of arms you're doing - is that supposed to be dancing? - or because of the way your laughter echoes around the deck. It's not even because you look effortlessly gorgeous in your outfit.

It's because you're magnetic.

Your simple presence commands the attention of everyone around you. Men and women alike, but the dudes feel bolder. They smirk and wink, they brush their arms against you and whisper words your way. You brush them all off, turning your attention to Nami and Vivi, but some are persistent. They linger near you, revelling in any bit of attention you care to give them.

And it's making Zoro feel insanely jealous.

Also, the fact that you're absolutely wasted doesn't help with your naturally clumsy disposition, so it's only a matter of time before you face-plant the grassed deck of Franky’s ship.

That, or the idiot following you around like a puppy dog catches you with his filthy mitts, and Zoro is forced to throw hands.

Which he can't. Because he's a cop.

“So, I’ve got you all figured out, Roronoa…” Zoro smirks, already anticipating the teasing that’s bound to come, and he turns his attention to his friend.

“I don’t know what you mean, Nico.”

Robin chuckles against her wine glass and tilts her head your way. Zoro follows her gaze and can’t help the involuntary way his lips purse as a growl threatens to escape them. The idiot near you is still trying to get your attention.

“You don’t? Well, it’s quite simple, really, I’ve read it a million times. We follow the lovable female protagonist around, watching as she slowly falls for the male main character, revelling in the little things he does for her… like protecting her…”

Zoro’s eye twitches at the same time you swat the idiot’s hand away from your waist.

“And then comes the male character’s POV… and you know what we find out?”

Zoro sighs, his patience wearing thin and ready to snap. “Do tell me.”

“That he fell first. And waaaay harder. It’s quite endearing.”

The beer tastes more bitter than it should as he chugs it down and places the bottle on a nearby tray. “Meaning?”

“Act on it, dummy. Or are you going to wait forever?”

Zoro’s eye never leaves you. His jaw moves as if he’s weighing his options. Then he releases a heavy sigh. “Fuck it.”

So, clenching his jaw and muttering more curse words, Zoro heads downstairs.

Just in time to see Nami slipping you another colorful drink. One mystery solved, Nami is the one that got you shit-faced.

You thank Nami with a smile, but as you turn on your heel, you slip - obviously - and the fucking idiot dares to steady you by the waist. A growl climbs up Zoro's throat, but before he reaches you, you're thanking the man and moving away from his grip. And then your eyes light up as you see Zoro approach, a huge smile replacing the fake one you used for the asshole, and Zoro smirks, his jealousy suddenly gone.

“Zo! Finally!” Fuck. He gets all weak in the fucking knees when you call him that. Who's the idiot now?

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

“Yes!” You giggle and sway your way closer to him, so he steadies you by the upper arm, ignoring how touching you just makes him want to touch you more. “I'm so drunk!”

“I can see that. Thank you, Nami.” Zoro turns to Nami, who beams and raises her own glass in a mock salute.

“Oh, right! Thank you, Nami!” You say, and Zoro shakes his head in amusement.

“Don't thank her, Trouble.” You giggle, and he sighs. “So, am I stuck babysitting you again? I don't suppose drunk you is easier to babysit than normal clumsy you?” It doesn't matter how annoyed he may sound. He doesn't mind babysitting you.

“What? I resent that, Officer.” You giggle and stumble on your feet as he drags you away from the dance floor and herds you to a lounge chair.

“Sit. I'll get you some water.”

“Nooooo!” Your nails bite into his arm as you cling to him, and the way your scent envelops him with the proximity almost makes him stagger. “You just got here, don't leave me already. I want to spend time with you!”

Zoro groans as his heart skips a fucking beat. What the hell?

“I'm just getting you some water.”

“But I already have a drink!” You raise your glass, and half of its contents spill to the floor, missing your clothes by inches, though you barely notice it.

“I see that.” Zoro reaches and removes the glass from your hand, ignoring your protests and forcing you to sit down. “But I'm going to sober you up before you hurt yourself, okay?” He points to the bar that's just a few steps away. “I'll be right there.”

“Boo!! Party pooper!”

Zoro runs a hand over his face. He doesn't mind babysitting you at all. But he needs to keep his fucking heart in check. It doesn’t help that Robin was right.

He fell first.

He fell harder.

He just doesn’t know if you fell too…

-*-

You didn’t know being on a ship could feel so dizzying. But it’s as if the boat is shaking harder with every step you take.

It can't be all the drinks you've had, can it? How many have you had? It's hard to keep count when Nami keeps shoving them into your hand.

She said something about liquid courage, right? What did you need that for, anyway?

With a heavy sigh, you watch Zoro leaning against the bar to ask for a water bottle. It had something to do with that green-haired doofus who makes your heart go wild. You're sure about that.

“Hey, gorgeous. Can we finish our dance?” Rob Lucci, one of Franky’s coworkers who you’ve met earlier sits near you, wearing a lopsided smirk, and you raise your brow. What does he mean by ‘finish your dance’? You were dancing with Nami…

“Beat it.” Zoro's grunt saves you from any kind of answer, but Lucci simply scowls at him. You can see Zoro's jaw twitching, and you realise how handsome he really is. “Scram, man, leave.”

Lucci stares at you one more time, but seeing as you don't say anything to keep him there, he calls it quits and disappears just as Zoro hands you the bottle and sits next to you, muttering something you can't discern through his teeth.

“Drink.” He orders you, and you squint your eyes, trying to look menacing.

“You're not the boss of me.”

A heavy sigh parts his lips as he closes his eye to keep it from twitching in annoyance. “Can you please drink some water?”

Your smirk gets lost against the rim of the bottle as you comply. After a few sips, you set the bottle aside, your smirk still in place.

“You know what I've just realised?” Zoro opens his mouth to answer but you don't even let him. “You're a really handsome man.” Zoro's reaction is priceless. The tips of his ears turn pink as he opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words, for once. “Look at that jawline… and your piercing eye? What the hell happened to the other one? You didn't have that scar when I left…”

Once more, he opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him. “Hey! I'm not complaining, it gives you a dangerous look. Unattainable. Scary. Like… Like a big dog.” You smirk at his dumbfounded expression. “All bark and no bite, though. Like a… Golden Retriever! Oh, no. Those are cute…”

“Oi, Trouble, I'm only going to let this slide because you're wasted.” Zoro's ears are still red, and the way he's getting flustered is fuel to your fire.

“I am.” A devious giggle leaves your lips as you continue to tease him. “And look at these muscles…” His bicep feels like hard rock as you wrap your fingers around it. “So firm and…”

Shit.

“I bet you could pin me easily.”

Shit. You should just stop.

Zoro's eye widens, and you feel his arm tremble slightly against your grip.

“I mean… With these muscles? Imagine that, Zo, you could pin me against a wall, trap my wrists with just one hand–”

“Stop talking–”

“... and I wouldn't even be able to move a muscle. You could press yourself against me and–”

“Trouble, stop talking.”

You should. Where's your filter?

“... I wouldn't even be able to wiggle out of your hold, I mean, you're really strong!”

Zoro closes his eye, one hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you imagining it?” Your question is innocent, but Zoro's red face confirms it without him needing to answer it. “Zoro?” He looks at you, brow furrowed in concentration, and you can almost see how he's trying to focus his gaze in your eyes and not on your lips. “Kiss me.”

Shit.

-*-

You're trying to kill him.

That's the only explanation he can come up with. Why else would you be saying these things?

Pin you? Fuck! The way that image is now running through his head is more dizzying than any alcoholic beverage.

“Kiss me, Zo!” You try again, and it's only proof his hearing is more than fine. It takes him a beat to find his voice, and when he does, it's raspy and affected.

“You're drunk.”

“We've established that already. Now kiss me.” You shuffle closer to him, and he gets up abruptly, taking two steps back and leaning on the balustrade of the ship, hoping the crisp, tangy ocean air cools him down.

“No.”

He answers, and you also get up, swaying on your unsteady legs and sauntering over to him, reaching your hands against his chest to steady yourself.

A groan leaves his lips as his hand instinctively holds you by the waist to help you stand still.

“Zo…”

“Trouble…”

You lock eyes with him for a second before he feels your fingers probing his chest muscles.

“I mean… They feel rock hard! How do you do this?”

Zoro sighs. Fuck. He's barely holding on to his sanity as it is.

“I work out. You should drink more water.”

“No. Kiss me.”

“You're drunk.”

You stamp your foot against the deck, and that gesture should be childish and immature, not cute!

“I know! Kiss me.” The way you dig your nails against his chest through his shirt makes his brain consider how they would feel running across his naked skin. So, he closes his eye and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“You'll regret it in the morning. You're drunk.”

Has he said that enough?

“Someone very wise once said that drunken words are sober thoughts.” You quip at him with a very proud smile and a hand landing on your hips.

His lip twitches upwards, and he lets out a small chuckle. “Nami says that.”

“You can't deny she's wise beyond her years.” You smirk, and he chuckles harder.

Then someone bumps into you and you stumble against Zoro, who steadies you and tries to scowl at the asshole who wasn't careful but he's long gone. And now you're staring right at his lips, a wistful look in your eyes.

“Kiss me.”

He wants to say no. He should say no. You're drunk. You'll both regret it if your first kiss happens like this.

But it's so tempting.

Just say no, idiot.

“I'll kiss you when you sober up.”

Close enough.

“But I want it now.”

Fuck.

“What's going on, here?” Nami's mischievous voice comes out like a lifeline on Zoro's sinking ship.

“Oh, thank God!” He groans.

“Zoro is being mean!” You pout, and Nami laughs. “He doesn't want to kiss me!”

Is there a shovel that Zoro can use to dig a hole in the ground? Would Franky be too upset if he broke a few boards to just… disappear?

“He doesn't want to kiss you?” Nami gives him the stink-eye, though laced with heavy amusement, and Zoro lets out a low growl.

“She's drunk.”

“Drunken words are sober thoughts!” Nami quips back, and you gasp, holding her arm and pointing at Zoro in accusation.

“That's what I told him! And he still won't kiss me!”

Nami laces one arm with yours and tugs you to her side, the curve of her lips lifting upwards while she stares at Zoro.

“It's alright, sweetie. If big, bad, meanie Zoro won't kiss you, I'm sure we can find someone who will.” What the hell is Nami playing at? “I know Sanji is all gentlemanly-like, but we can see if he kisses you, how about that?”

The low growl that leaves Zoro's lips sounds foreign, even to him. But the thought of the cook, no, the thought of any other man daring to kiss you is enough to make him seethe. His grip on your waist tightens, and he pulls you closer.

“She's fine right here.” He warns Nami, trying to convey that her joke is not funny with his actions alone.

“But she wants a kiss, Zoro.”

“Leave it, Witch.”

“I don't want Sanji's kiss, though, I want Zoro's.” Zoro will not admit to anyone how your words made warmth spread through his chest, but he's sure Nami can see the faint tinge of pink on his cheeks and ears, judging from the way she cackles.

“I know, sweetie, I know you do.” She shoves another water bottle in your hand and giggles, clearly a bit inebriated herself. “Keep drinking this, then. The liquid courage worked, now sober up and the grumpy man will give you that kiss.”

What the hell is Nami talking about?

“Everyone, look up in the sky!”

-*-

All the urge to get kissed by Zoro vanishes with Usopp’s plea. Turning your head upwards and fighting vertigo, you witness in awe as a different array of fireworks explodes in the sky, casting bright colours above the ship.

“Zo…” You whisper, hoping he's finding the view as magnificent as you are. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yes, Trouble, it's… beautiful.”

You don't quite know why his voice sounds so raw and vulnerable, but the one second you take your eyes away from the sky, you swear you find him staring at you before looking back up.

But another loud bang distracts your thoughts, and you pat your pocket to try and find your phone.

“It really is. I need a video of this.” You can't find your phone anywhere, you're sure you placed it in your pocket… Maybe the other one?

Nothing.

Then someone bumps into you again, making you hit the balustrade with a small yelp. You hear Zoro grumble and yell at the person who hit you, but he decides to check on you instead of following them.

Another beautiful blast in the sky steals your attention, and this time you do find your phone. In the exact pocket you were searching for it.

Strange.

Or not, since you're absolutely wasted.

You finally get your video. Zoro hovers near you because you keep leaning on the railing to try and get a good angle, and you're pretty sure you're giving him a small apoplexy every time you do that.

Afterwards, you keep sipping your water, but Nami drags you to more dancing and partying, though you notice Zoro still watching your every move, probably making sure you don’t hurt yourself, nothing else.

After a while, you gravitate towards him again, a smile plastered on your lips and still with a sway to your step. You're still drunk.

But before you say anything, Lucci, who was dancing near you again, follows you, grabbing you by the upper arm to turn you towards him. You sway more than you should and register a low growl behind you before he smiles at you.

“Hey, gorgeous, want to grab a few more drinks now? I hear this ship’s got some bunks somewhere, maybe we–”

“I thought I told you to scram, Lucci. She's taken.”

You feel heat blooming in your cheeks as Zoro's gravelly voice rings near your ears. His hand rests on your waist as he pulls you back towards him, and you feel Rob Lucci's fingers lose their grip around your arm.

“Woah, man, sorry, I didn't know. Thought you were just friends...” Zoro mumbles something between his breath as Lucci retreats, though his fingers still grip you tightly.

“Taken?” You grin, turning around to face him with a raised brow, your hands finding purchase against his forearms.

“Well, yeah.” Zoro looks away from your eyes, and you see his throat bobbing up and down. “Figured it was the fastest way to send him on his way.”

“Oh, so it was mere convenience?”

Zoro opens and closes his mouth, but then a giggle escapes your lips as you sway some more, gripping him tightly.

“You're still drunk, so yeah, we can call it convenience.”

“You're so grumpy, Officer.” He sighs and shoves another water bottle in your hands. “Ohhhh, do you have your handcuffs with you?” A mischievous grin splits your lips and Zoro grabs hold of Robin's arm, who happens to be strolling by.

“Nico, take over. I can't deal with this conversation right now.” He says, exasperated as you open your mouth in shock.

“Heeeeey! Come on, Zo, I was just teasing!”

But he's already asking Robin to keep an eye on you as he disappears into the crowd.

“What did you tell him? What scared off Roronoa Zoro?” She asks, amused, and you chuckle but don't answer. Maybe your filter is returning?

-*-

The party lasts long into the middle of the night, and by the time the ship docks, you're already sobered up, though your steps are still wobbly and uncoordinated. Zoro offers to take you home, since you rode with Robin, and you just nod at him, too mortified to try and utter a full sentence his way.

Maybe he won't bring up the way you blatantly threw yourself at him. Is it too much to ask?

But it doesn't take him five minutes into the drive to start chuckling. You don't ask why he's amused, you know better than to walk right into that trap, yet he doesn't really wait for your curiosity to kick in.

“Why so quiet, Trouble? Are you reconsidering your life choices? Maybe silently vowing never to drink again? Or maybe to stop listening to Nami's advice?”

A groan is all you allow before you hide your face behind your hands. Yet, he's relentless in his teasing.

“You're a really handsome man, look at that jawline.” His impression of you is anything but accurate, yet it's enough to make your stomach churn. So you really said that to him, it wasn't just your imagination!

“Kiss me, Zo.”

Oh, God, that too? A desperate whine is all the sound you manage to make while wishing to disappear into the car seat.

“But my favourite? You could pin me easily.” He lets out another chuckle. “I wasn't expecting that, Trouble.”

“Please, please stop, Zoro. I'll never drink again, I swear.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much.” And then he laughs. A real laugh.

That is enough to make you leave the safety of your hands and stare at him, his lips still curled back, brows slightly scrunched, and an easy expression on his face.

“Was that a laugh?”

“What do you mean? I laugh all the time.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to him, all previous mortification forgotten. “No. You chuckle, you smirk, and sometimes you snicker. You don't laugh.”

Silence surrounds you as he enters your driveway and parks the car in front of your porch. Then he makes eye contact with you, the semblance of a snicker still ghosting his lips. “Guess now I do.”

You barely have time to register what that could mean before you both exit the car. You're embarrassed at how Zoro has to steady you as you climb the steps because the world is still spinning, but at least you're of sound mind again, so no stupid words will leave your mouth now.

“Are you regretting the way you behaved, Trouble?”

You stop in front of your door, one hand playing with your keys as you take a deep breath.

“No. Not all of it, at least. Drunken words really are sober thoughts, I guess.” You whisper, making sure your eyes are locked with his and trying to ignore how your heart is thrumming against your chest.

“All of them?” Zoro's tone carries mischievousness in it, and you bite your lip to stifle a smirk.

“Yes.”

He takes a step forward, his hand brushing lightly against your waist, a place he touched so many times tonight, but not once did it burn like now.

“Are you sober now?” He lowers his voice as his eye lingers on your lips.

“I am.”

“Good.” Zoro leans in, head tilting slightly to the side. “Because I'm going to kiss you.”

You barely have time to let out a gasp before his lips touch yours. Your eyelids flutter shut, and just as you're about to reach for his neck and deepen the kiss–

Beep, beep, beep…

Your phone alarm starts blaring in your pocket, an obnoxious sound that disrupts the night - and the moment - making you both groan as you fall apart.

“Are you kidding me?” Zoro grumbles, though without any real bite to his words, and you fumble with the device, trying to make the annoying sound stop.

You finally manage to silence it, and you giggle nervously. “I'm sorry! I didn't set any alarm, my alarm sound isn't even this obnoxious, I don't know what happened and–”

Zoro tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, a devious smirk on his lips as he leans down again. “Let's try this again, shall we?”

Your stomach flips, and butterflies take flight as your heart skips a beat.

But just as your lips brush together, his phone starts ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He complains taking the phone out of his pocket, a frown on his lips as he sees the name. “It's the station, I need to answer this.” Then you witness his expression somber as he paces back a little.

Just like that, you know your moment is over, so you sigh as Zoro hangs up the call.

“It's an emergency at the station. I have to go.” You can actually see the annoyance in his face and the slight tinge of dissatisfaction in his eyes.

“Maybe we can finish this another night?” Perhaps there’s still some alcohol lingering in your blood, because that was very bold of you.

Zoro is already skipping down the steps, two at a time, but he stops near his car, leaning on the open door and smirking at you in the most devious way you’ve ever seen him.

“Trust me, Trouble, next time I won’t stop. Even if the world is ending.”

You’re still smiling giddily at his words when you enter your home and lock the door. You can’t wait for what happens next.

-*-

Zoro lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. Setting his phone in its holder, he dials Captain Mihawk’s number and sets it to speaker.

“Roronoa.” Mihawk’s gravelly voice answers after one ring.

“Someone took out his eyes? What the fuck?” Zoro still can’t believe what he heard earlier.

“We don’t know much yet. They had to perform urgent surgery on him. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

Zoro’s foot presses down on the pedal, still riding under the limit, but barely. “What kind of sick fuck would do that?”

“We don’t know. But there’s a possibility you saw him tonight. After all, it happened at your friend’s boat party.”

Fuck.

“Where’d you find him?”

“A dock worker found him. Wrists bound, eye sockets empty, in shock.” Mihawk’s voice is curt and methodical, a voice of someone accustomed to gruelling murders and grizzly stories. After all, he’d spent far too long in the big city and seen too much.

“Anything else?”

“A note.” A clue. “Pinned to his chest with a nail. It said: ‘She’s mine.’ Nothing else. We’re still running it for prints or other evidence. Sounds like a crime of passion, jealousy, possession, perhaps?”

Zoro’s teeth grind together. Something feels fishy about all of this. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. A crime of passion seems far too simple…

“Sounds like it. I’m about to pull up, talk soon.”

His heart constricts as he thinks of you. It might be just a coincidence, it has to be just a coincidence… What are the odds, really? What happened can’t have anything to do with you… Still…

After spending the night following you around like a puppy, Rob Lucci is found hurt, maimed, with his eyeballs missing?

Zoro releases a heavy sigh and shakes his head again. Maybe he’s reading too much into everything. You’re safe. And he’ll make sure you stay that way.

That’s all there is to it.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22

|Chapter 6|

#one piece #one piece x reader #the meet cute #roronoa zoro x reader #reader x roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #you x zoro #zoro x reader #reader x zoro #reader insert

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okaylikeschaewon · 2 years ago

Text

Exchange Part 1: Behind the Stage

10k words, 10k more in part 2, male reader, smut

“What’s your name?”

“What?!”

“I said, what’s your name?” you shouted, trying your best to be heard over the blaring music.

She looked confused for a second before shrugging her shoulders, smiling, not caring about anything - but why should she? This was supposed to be one of the most prestigious parties of the year, she was young and cute and somehow found her way in, she should enjoy it.

The way she moved her body was impeccable - she must have some sort of formal training because no average girl knows how to move like she did. Her perfect body control, matching the music, oddly impressive attention to the little movements that just made her so much more appealing to you. Top it all off with the fact that it just looked like she was having a good time, this girl knew how to have a presence.

“You’re really good at this!”

She just smiled, you weren’t entirely sure if she heard you - not that it mattered.

“Come!” she shouted, pulling you by your hand towards the middle of the dance floor, finding a little area with some more space.

This girl knew no embarrassment, not that she had any reason to be, she was unbelievably confident in herself. Her hands were all over you, even though you were just an average dancer, she guided you, made you look like an expert while she did almost all of the work.

A few people started to take notice of her, giving a bit more space while cheering her on. She clearly loved it, a smirk plastered across her face as she knew her skimpy little outfit was flashing her body to the whole room. She was thin, small, petite, yet her thighs were full enough to make you lust for her, to want her, unable to take your eyes off her.

Then she turned around, and for the first time you got a view, a beautiful view, as half of her ass was hanging out of the tiny garment that could barely be called a pair of shorts. You were a bit taken aback, but she didn’t allow you to fester in nerves; She grabbed your hands and placed them on her hips before she pressed backwards, grinding her cute little ass on your crotch.

The jeering from the crowd could barely be heard over the music, but it could be heard nonetheless. The more they cheered her on, the harder she went. At this point pretty much every eye in the room was on the two of you, or rather it felt that way, as the girl was grinding her little ass against you.

Fueled by the attention, the girl pressing her ass into your body bent over at her waist and turned back, looking at you over her shoulder. That seductive smirk of hers made you realize her attention was all you cared about, all these other people were just bystanders. This was your little moment.

She winked like a professional, as if such a thing existed, before she began to twerk her ass up and down on you. The makeshift audience erupted in shouts, everyone watching as the cute girl bounced her backside against you. Her ass was so soft, especially for such a skinny girl, and the little side to side move she did further emphasized how this girl was not an amateur.

The song eventually came to an end, leaving you face to face with the cute girl again as the crowd around you began to dissipate. You still had your hands on her hips gently swaying side to side, both of you smiling to the fullest.

“Wanna take a break?” she asked, communication finally possible as the music calmed down.

“I’d love to,” you answered as she began to guide you through the room towards the bar.

“You’re pretty good at dancing!” she complimented, flagging down the bartender.

“Me? Are you kidding, you’re the one who looked like a damn pro out there!”

“I have some practice,” she giggled as the bartender walked up.

“It’s a pleasure to serve you,” he said respectfully. “What can I get for you, and of course it’s on the house.”

“Thanks!” she said cheerily before turning to you. “What do you drink?”

“I’m good with whatever you’re having,” you answered, slightly taken aback at how the bartender greeted her.

“Whisky please! Something nice.”

“You got it, I have the perfect bottle in the back for you,” the bartender replied before quickly scurrying away.

“Huh, didn’t chalk you as a whisky girl,” you said, leaning against the bar. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

“What, do you think I’m cool because I drink whisky?” she chuckled, leaning next to you.

“I’d think you’re cool even if you got us some cosmos.”

She smiled brightly at you, her eyes squinted in the most adorable endearing way.

“By the way, what’s your name?” you asked as the bartender returned with the drinks.

The girl picked up the two glasses and handed you one.

“Lisa.”

—

“Oh my God just look at her, she has the whole room gawking at her.”

“They’d be gawking at you, too,” Jennie replied casually, sipping on her vodka cranberry. “These rich execs are all so horny, you could just stand up there and you’d have like six guys on you.”

“I don’t want six guys, I’ll leave that shit to you,” Rosé scoffed, her attention fixated on a booth across the room. “Just one.”

“No need to be so defensive,” Jennie slurred, clearly tipsy, as she wrapped her arm around the bitter girl. “You should go for it, he has a huge cock.”

“You’ve already been with him?” Rosé spat, glaring at Jennie in disgust.

“Please, I’ve sucked more than half the cocks in this room,” Jennie laughed, leaning back again on the couch while stirring her drink with the little plastic straw. “Let’s not forget how many years it's been.”

“Don’t worry, none of us forgot how quickly you became a slut,” Rosé muttered, her eyes once again locked on the man.

“Oh stop being such a bitch about it,” Jennie rolled her eyes, tossing a keycard on the table in front of Rosé. “Go take him to the suite, you’re just as much of a slut as I am at this point.”

“That would be impossible, no one is as slutty as you,” Rosé fired back.

“Oh really?” Jennie raised her eyebrows. “Oh oppa, thank you so much for the song!” Jennie mocked her voice before pretending to gag on a cock. “Oppa I’ve never sucked a cock this big before.”

“That was one time!” Rosé argued.

“Oh oppa thank you for the ride,” Jennie continued, once again making gagging noises. “Thank you for lunch oppa!”

“How did you know-”

“Oh oppa I ruined my new dress, I need to be spanked.”

Rosé snatched the keycard off the table, glaring at Jennie for a moment before the two of them broke down and started laughing. Rosé leaned over and gave her a quick hug before standing up and grabbing her bag.

“I’m going to have to talk to our staff about kissing and telling,” Rosé whined playfully.

“It’s not their fault, I basically forced them to tell me,” Jennie laughed, leaning back into her seat.

“You sure you don’t need it?” Rosé asked, holding up the card.

“Half the execs here would suck my cock if I had one, I’ll just get another one if I need it,” Jennie replied nonchalantly. “Go have your fun, I wasn’t joking about him having a huge cock.”

“Thanks,” Rosé said excitedly, waving goodbye. “I’ll meet you two in our room later tonight!”

“Yeah, if you ever stop getting dicked by him,” Jennie laughed as Rosé rushed off.

It only took probably three minutes before Rosé had snuck off with the man.

“Why’re you so down?” Jennie asked casually. “We’re just fucking around, coming to one of these doesn’t actually make you a slut.”

Jisoo bit her lip, looking around the room, stirring the little plastic straw of her barely-touched drink.

“Hey, come on, it’s basically just a formality for you to be here,” Jennie continued. “You’re allowed to have some fun.”

“I don’t know if this is for me…” Jisoo mumbled. “I might just head back.”

“I told you, I’ll do that stuff for you, you just have to be in the room,” Jennie tried to reassure her while sending one of the waiters a silent message. “Please, stay.”

“Why are you even doing this for me?” Jisoo asked quietly. “You didn’t do it for the others.”

“Because those two are already huge sluts,” Jennie chuckled briefly before abruptly becoming serious. “I’m kidding!”

“So why, what makes me so special?” Jisoo demanded, putting the glass down, about to spill tears.

“I just… it’s not that big of a deal for me, and I want to help you out,” Jennie answered as the waiter approached the table with four shots of tequila. “Also I know they’ll never give you your solo if you don’t make an appearance.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me Jisoo, I do,” Jennie sighed. “Rosie and Lisa were the same, at first they also didn’t believe me, and look how long they waited.”

“You don’t…”

“Jisoo, please, it hurts me knowing you’re the only one left,” Jennie begged, grabbing Jisoo’s hands and staring earnestly into her eyes. “You deserve this, one night and then you’ll get everything you deserve.”

“One night…” Jisoo whispered, a dead look penetrating deep within her pupils.

“It’s really not as bad as it sounds,” Jennie attempted to bargain. “It’s actually a lot of fun, and I’ll be the one actually doing everything. You literally just have to sit there and look pretty, at most you’ll strip down a bit.”

She nodded slowly, finally accepting her fate. Jennie, ecstatic as could be, quickly grabbed two of the shots and held one out to Jisoo. After staring at it, hesitating, she accepted the drink.

“To the final solo!” Jennie cheered, holding the glass up before the two of them downed the drinks simultaneously.

“I still hate tequila,” Jisoo shuddered, slamming the glass down on the table.

“Good thing I got us two each then.”

—

“Holy shit, why is your room so nice,” you marveled at the luxurious suite. “And how many people are staying in here?”

“Four of us,” Lisa mumbled as she made her way over to the minifridge, stumbling slightly. “What do you want… to drink…?”

“Whoa there Lisa,” you quickly ran up behind her, grabbing her by her armpits to hold her up. “I think maybe we slow down on the alcohol, just for a bit.”

The two of you had spent far too long drinking downstairs. You were finding out a lot about her, and the bond the two of you seemed to naturally have felt unreal. Never before has a girl had this type of effect on you, it felt like she might be something special. Despite talking for so long, there was still so much you didn’t know about her.

“Why!” she whined, putting all of her weight on your arms as she craned her neck to look up at you. “I’m not… drunk…”

“Right, not drunk,” you agreed with her as she slowly fell down to the ground, sitting there giggling.

“I’m not drunk!” she giggled while on her knees.

“Yeah, I got that, you’re not drunk.”

“You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” she asked, her voice suddenly becoming unexpectedly dispirited.

“No no, really, I believe you,” you lied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to come on the bed for a bit?”

“No,” she replied softly. “Can we hold hands?”

“Uh, yeah of course,” you said, taking her outstretched hand in yours. It was odd, having her sitting on the floor next to the bed, but it was also somewhat wholesome in a way. “So, Lisa, are you a celebrity or something?”

“Do you really not know?” she asked slowly, as if each word required immense mindpower to get out. “I figured everyone knew.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m part of Blackpink!” she said cheerily, letting go of your hand turning to face you, sitting cross-legged. “Have you heard of us?”

“Oh umm, yeah I think I’ve heard of you guys.”

“Liar,” she laughed, leaning back on her hands.

“No really, that name sounds familiar!” you argued, racking your brain trying to remember.

“If you knew, you’d know.”

The name did sound familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was mentioned by your boss, something about tonight?

“Can I suck your cock?”

Your train of thought immediately crashed; Surely you misheard her. There was no way she actually just said what you think she said.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She got up onto her knees and crawled towards you, reaching for your crotch.

“Whoa,” you quickly grabbed her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I want to suck your cock,” she said casually, trying to pull down your pants. “I’m really good at it, I promise.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you hesitated, trying to hold her back.

“Why?” she snapped, suddenly extremely ferocious. “Do you still think I’m drunk?”

“No!” you lied again, trying to make sense of the situation you got yourself into.

“Am I not pretty enough?” she asked, her anger replaced by sorrow.

“No, that’s definitely not the issue.”

“I’m not drunk,” she pouted, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

“I’m not saying you’re drunk,” you attempted to cheer her up. “I’m just saying-”

“Let me suck your cock or else I’m going to find another man,” she growled, her eyes full of rage, but then just as quickly as she got angry she flipped the switch again and began smiling at you sweetly. “Please!”

This girl was insane, but she was so unbelievably cute that your tipsy self decided fuck it, might as well go with it. How could you refuse her when she was literally on her knees begging, and you were pretty sure she wasn’t making empty threats when she said she’d just find another cock to suck. Why should someone else get the pleasure anyway?

“Fine, if you really want to,” you sighed, as if you were doing her a favor.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, enthusiastically undoing your belt. “I can see how hard you are, stop playing games.”

“Of course I am, you’re fucking gorgeous,” you replied.

She looked up at you with her hands on your waistband. Her smile was so pure and precious, she was adorable, sitting there on her knees. That soft smile she flashed at you, it almost felt like you were falling for her in this moment - or perhaps you were more inebriated than you realized.

“Can you hold my hair?” she asked, snapping you out of the wholesome thoughts as she yanked down your pants.

“Sure- ahhh,” you cried quietly out as her mouth immediately plunged down your cock.

She wasted no time at all, within just seconds she was bobbing her head down your cock. There was no doubt in your mind that this girl had sucked a few cocks in her days, that much was painfully clear based on how she moved, and her experience just made it that much better for you. You quickly bunched her hair up in your fist, making sure you could clearly see her cute face as she thoroughly coated your shaft with her saliva.

“Holy shit Lisa,” you moaned softly. “You don’t mess around.”

No response, just continuous shoving of your cock down her throat. She started going deeper and deeper, you began to feel your tip poking against the tightness of her throat each time she plunged downwards. She was focused, extremely precise yet still sloppy - perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as you thought.

Most girls started slowly, maybe lick around a bit, a few kisses here and there. Lisa, however, was not like most girls. She was hungry, and apparently only your cock could feed that appetite. There was zero apprehension, she eagerly sucked your cock, her pretty little face completely stuffed, and she liked it.

“Does that feel good?” she asked as her lips flew off your cock, replaced by her hand. She stroked your length, spreading the saliva from her throat along your shaft as she shoved her face against your balls, licking them with all the passion in the world.

“Yeah Lisa, it feels good,” you moaned, closing your eyes. “Really fucking good.”

The touch of her hand disappeared from your shaft, as did her tongue from your balls. Then, suddenly, your cock was engulfed in a warm tightness. Your eyes shot open to see Lisa’s lips pressed against your crotch, your cock all the way down her tight little throat. She held her face there, staring up at you the entire time - apparently this girl didn’t know the meaning of gag reflex.

“Mmmmmphmmmph,” she moaned with her mouth stuffed full of your cock, her lips moving up and down your length slowly. She had absolutely no difficulty throating your whole cock, and she even seemed to enjoy it as she repeatedly brought her lips down all the way.

The back of her throat was opening up comfortably for you, offering very little resistance while it still squeezed your cock. You were throbbing. She was just so beautiful, her cute little face partially shielded by her bangs, that grip you had on her hair that made you feel in control - but let there be no mistake, she was in control.

Lisa had you under her spell, using her mouth to satisfy every need your mind and body could possibly have. She began bobbing up and down quickly, this time bringing one fist to the base of your cock to join her mouth’s movements. Her other hand firmly gripped your balls, but very gently rubbed them around. Her hand was so soft, her slender fingers massaging your cock from every angle.

“You’re going to make me cum,” you moaned softly, bringing your other hand up to her hair as well. With two hands grabbing her head, you could feel yourself nearing climax.

She wouldn’t let up. Knowing that you were about to come didn’t dissuade her at all, she continued to suck your cock with her exuberant passion. Lisa moved both of her hands onto your thighs, sitting up a bit more, and began throating your cock as fast as possible.

Her new leverage offered so much more control as she slammed her lips into your body with power, with burning passion. Each time her mouth bobbed down on your cock, you felt yourself get just a bit closer to the point of no return. She began to thrust her mouth hard, using a lot more power with each one, holding your cock down her throat for a moment each time she went down.

Grunting and moaning, you finally hit the wall. Those couple of seconds where you had hit your climax, right before your cock began unloading, those couple of seconds lasted an eternity. Time might have frozen entirely, not that you would have noticed. The warmth of her mouth around your cock felt divine, unreal, out of this world. Reality smacked you in the face just like that, your release began to fill her mouth.

Shot after shot of your cum flew down her throat, and she didn’t even flinch. You knew that you were filling her mouth just by feeling alone, but confirmation arrived swiftly as the white goo began to spill out of the sides of her lips. She didn’t care one bit as she held her mouth glued to your cock, even as your cum overflowed.

With a mouth full of your cum, she throated your cock a final few times, leaving the white mess all over your shaft, before removing you from her mouth. A hefty glob spilled before she could tilt her head back, mouth wide open to show you the white pool of your seed coating her tongue. She closed her mouth, gulped without any hesitation, and then smiled brightly at you.

“What the fuck Lisa,” you moaned, falling onto your back and staring at the roof. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Told you I was good at it,” she bragged before her tongue returned to your body, licking up any remnants of cum off your cock. “Your cum tastes so good.”

“I think I love you,” you moaned as her tongue poked at your tip, greedily trying to coerce some more out of your body, sending shivers up your spine.

“I get that a lot,” she giggled before standing up and laying down on top of you, her face on your chest. “Could a drunk girl really do that?”

“You’re not drunk,” you whispered absentmindedly, still recovering from the blowjob as you squeezed her butt.

“So, how long do you need before you are ready to fuck me?” she asked casually. “It’s only nine, the night is young.”

“It’s nine?” you gasped, quickly returning to your senses.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, her hand rubbing your thigh.

“Lisa, I hate to ruin the mood, but I have to leave,” you informed her remorsefully.

The rubbing ceased abruptly, but she refused to look up at you, letting only one word fill the room; That one word wasn’t one of anger, or frustration, but rather it was filled to the brim with heartbreak.

“Why?”

“They do this thing, a sort of hazing, I don’t really have a choice,” you explained. “It shouldn’t take too long, I can come right back after.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, and you’re leaving?”

“I know and I wish I didn’t have to, but I’d lose my job if I didn’t show up.”

“Am I not worth losing your job?”

“Lisa…”

“Forget it, I know how these things work, it’s not my first time at one of these parties,” she sighed.

“I really want to stay, but I just can’t,” you said with exasperation.

“That’s what they always say,” she said quietly. “I fall for it every time.”

“Fall for what?”

“All you guys are the same, coming here all dressed up pretending you want to get to know me and all that bullshit just to fuck me and leave,” she sniffled, failing to hide her emotions. “This is why I don’t bother getting invested.”

“It’s not like that,” you tried to explain.

“It’s fine, just go,” she snapped, rolling off and turning away from you. “There are a hundred men just like you downstairs who can fuck me instead.”

“Lisa, I promise I’ll come back,” you argued, reaching for her shoulder.

“What kind of hazing is this anyway?” she snapped again, her whole body jerking away at your touch. “What exactly do you have to do?”

“They didn’t give me details,” you answered carefully. “I promise I’ll come back after, if you let me.”

She turned around to face you again, her eyes welling up; She looked so incredibly vulnerable right now, full of emotion, and you felt terrible knowing you caused this. You never wanted to hurt this girl, she was adorable in the best of ways.

“Don’t make empty promises, you’re the first guy I’ve met at one of these who…” she muttered quietly. “As soon as you’re done, alright?”

“As soon as I’m done,” you repeated.

“I’ll be waiting here,” she continued. “I’m not heading back out there, I’m going to wait here. Waiting for you.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” you whispered before hesitating.

You wanted to kiss her, she looked too cute, yet despite her sucking the life out of your cock just a few moments ago, you were being shy. Why did it take so much courage? You had no idea, but you mustered up that conviction and went for it, hoping for the best.

—

The club was just as rowdy now as it was when you were here with Lisa earlier. If anything, it was even more full of energy now as you went deeper into the night. You maneuvered around the edge of the room, noticing far more audacious activity going on in the booths. Not that it shocked you, these booths were reserved for the more prestigious members of the event.

After walking past a dozen or so blowjobs, some more subtle than others, you noticed the balcony your company reserved was full of people. You had access, and part of you wanted to see what was going on, but instead you focused on getting over with your little adventure - you wanted to return to Lisa as soon as possible.

It was as you continued making your way towards your meeting spot that you noticed what was happening on the balcony. There was a girl, she must have been popular because there was a literal crowd watching as a man picked her up. You only got flashes of what was going on through the mass of bodies, but you filled in the blanks as you saw two guys holding her up between them.

“Crazy shit right?”

You turned to see a man wearing half a mask sitting in a booth, watching you.

“Yeah, she must be someone special,” you replied casually, taking a seat in the booth. There were two other guys also at the booth who nodded at you as you sat, but they were very much preoccupied by two skimpily dressed girls. “Where are the masks?”

“She is, but we get to work with someone just as special,” the masked man said while handing you one of your own - a bunny mask. “Apparently earlier she was also there,” he continued while nodding at the balcony. “Guess one of the execs really wanted her for himself.”

“Yeah I don’t think she’s being very exclusive up there,” you commented as the bodies parted for a brief moment, giving you a view of the girl bent over getting spit roasted. “Kinda looks like it was her idea.”

“You’re probably right,” he laughed. “She’s definitely the biggest slut in the group.”

The group of you sat there for a bit, watching the scenes unfold around you. Random girls kept walking up to your booth, knowing that anyone with a booth would have some relevance. The masked guy you were talking to now also had a girl on his lap and another between his legs. You had been refusing every girl who offered to join you - Lisa was the only girl on your mind right now.

“Alright who’s next,” an extremely burly man asked while walking up to the table. “Looks like you’re new,” he added, looking at you.

“I’d go another round,” one of the other guys in the booth piped up.

“Get yourself another promotion and then you can join them up there,” the bodyguard laughed before turning to you. “Come on, I think you’re the last one.”

You stood up and followed him out of the club and down a hallway. There were a few other masked guys in the hallway which you walked past, knowing that they all had some level of power in their respective companies if they were here.

“She doesn’t look as enthusiastic as some of the others,” the bodyguard commented while walking you towards a door. “Did they explain how it works?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, your mind still preoccupied with Lisa.

“It’s just a facial,�� he explained. “Touch her as much as she lets you, if you want to fuck her then you have to convince her yourself. Do whatever you want as long as she is fine with it. She is allowed to stop whenever she wants. If she says stop, listen to her.”

“Got it.”

“There’s a camera in there, take a picture of it after you’re done,” he continued, holding the doorknob. “Take as long as you want, go a couple of rounds if she lets you, just make sure you take at least one money shot picture, got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” you answered, Lisa finally slipping from your mind as the bodyguard began to open the door.

Immediately inside there was a little curtain which you walked through, just to be greeted with another one. Behind you, the bodyguard closed the door as you walked through the second curtain into a large, luxurious room. There were bookshelves up to the roof, a large table, a number of big couches, some nice chairs, but the middle of the room was where your attention went.

On a king size bed sat one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen in your life, wearing nothing but a pair of floral purple underwear. She was the type of girl who could have the whole room’s attention by just breathing. It was your job to coat her face in your cum, this would be an absolute dream come true if it weren’t for one little issue - she was crying.

“Excuse me,” you said softly, trying not to startle her.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, quickly turning away from you and furiously wiping her face. “I didn’t know you were ready.”

“Don’t apologize, take a second and then we can talk,” you said while walking over to the table and picking up the camera.

Your jaw dropped as you looked at the picture preview. There were at least nine pictures, unique pictures, of this girl with her face coated. Your heart sank, and you didn’t have it in you to scroll and see how many there were in total.

“Okay, I’m ready,” the girl sniffled, turning back to face you. “I’m really sorry about that, please don’t tell them.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” you tried to calm the frantic girl down. You carefully took a seat on the bed next to her, purposefully not staring at her almost-nude body. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she stammered as she moved closer to you. “Is my hand fine or would you like me to use my mouth?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked nervously, unable to get past the image of what this beautiful girl had been through so far tonight.

“I have to do this!” she replied with a raised voice before immediately apologizing again. “Please, I didn’t mean it.”

“How about we first start with this,” you said while reaching up and grabbing one of the pillows from the top of the bed. You placed it on her lap, returning just a touch of her dignity. “What’s your name?”

She looked at you in pure astonishment, as if you were some kind of alien.

“Jisoo,” she muttered, her eyes still wide open.

“Tell me about yourself, Jisoo.”

“I’m…” she paused, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. “I’m a singer.”

“And how does a singer end up in this kind of… situation?” you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“I… volunteered,” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling in your periphery. You turned to look her directly in the eyes, those eyes which were quickly filling with tears when she suddenly started crying again. “It’s the only way,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“Jisoo, I’m not going to force you to do anything,” you said softly while patting her back. “It’s not too late to stop all of this.”

“I’ve come this far,” she muttered, wiping her eyes carefully with her fingers, trying not to further damage her makeup. “I can’t stop now.”

It was difficult for you, but you also knew how these things worked. If you refused to comply, she would most likely get blamed, revoking whatever rewards she was working towards. The rows of facials on the camera flashed before your eyes as you stared at her, you didn’t have it in you to be the reason she failed tonight.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Just the hand is fine.”

Her jaw dropped in shock - you immediately realized you were probably the first person tonight who refused the blowjob. That at least made you feel a little better, making you the best of the worst for this girl. She got over the surprise after a couple of seconds and wrapped her arms around your body, slowly tugging down your pants.

“You’re the first one,” she confirmed as you lifted yourself just enough for her to remove your pants. “Touch me as much as you want, just promise you’ll warn me before…”

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your hands off her.

Tenderly, she wrapped her fingers around your shaft. She moved slowly, painfully slowly at first, getting used to the details of your cock. With how the two of you were seated, you had a perfect view of Jisoo’s little cleavage, with a backdrop of her thighs.

“Do you like it faster or slower?” she whispered, lifting her face towards you while her hand pumped a bit quicker.

“Faster,” you replied, glancing at your cock to see her hand steadily stroking away.

It’s not that she was bad at it, but you could tell something was missing. She was nervous, apprehensive - almost as if she was scared to touch you. Making her comfortable became your goal, the question was just how?

“Stop me whenever,” you whispered softly into her face before placing your hand on her thigh.

Inch by inch, you moved up her leg, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. Your gaze was deep, looking directly into the retinas of her gorgeous eyes as they sparkled, still slightly dewy from earlier. Your hand eventually made it right up to her purple panties where you paused.

Jisoo’s hand also briefly stopped pumping, but after a couple of blinks, fluttering of her eyes, she resumed her handjob, slower now. You slid your hand up some more, rubbing just above her nether region. Slowly, giving her every opportunity in the world to stop you, you slipped your fingers into her underwear.

She exhaled sharply out of her nose, her hand involuntarily pumping your cock faster, as your fingers made contact with her pussy. You moved your hand a bit lower until you had three fingers pressed against her clit. Your fingers began rubbing in a circular motion, pushing her to release a moan from time to time.

Her eyebrows began to angle upwards, those beautiful features of her face gently contorting in pleasure as you toyed with her. The faster you rubbed her, the faster her own hand moved, in a way giving you control over everything.

Your fingers began to steadily collect her liquids, lessening the friction of her body as you rubbed her pussy even faster. You could feel her breaths hitting your face now, her pretty winces, eyes shut tight. She was really getting into it.

Then you pressed a little bit lower down her body, two fingers rubbing up and down while your middle finger toyed with the idea of entering her pussy. She gasped, eyes shooting open as your finger teased her hole. Those deep breaths of hers turned into sharp grunts as your fingers touched her without regard.

You ran your middle finger over her entrance again before pulling your hand back up, returning to her clit - you had no intention of inserting. She looked relieved, or perhaps she was just overcome with pleasure, it was hard to tell anymore. One thing that was easy to tell, however, was how much wetter her pussy was now.

She was definitely getting close, and her grip on your cock began to falter. She was still trying her best, but it was clear her own pleasure was taking precedence over yours - which you were completely fine with. You rubbed circles around her clit some more, just like you did when you first started touching her, but this time you were far more aggressive.

Making her cum became your drive as she squirmed, panting and grunting. She was as close as she could physically be to her limit, it would just take a little bit more on your end. With her pussy flowing all over your fingers, you decided to keep your movements steady, not switching anything up anymore.

Her hand was barely holding onto your cock at this point, and stroking was a long forgotten act. You could physically feel her orgasm coming. Suddenly, it shot through her body, the initial waves forcing her into a frenzy of writhing as her thighs clamped down on your arm.

“Ahhhh,” she cried, her eyes wide open but not seeing anything.

She began to moan - loudly - as her body thrashed around on the bed. She came all over your fingers, her purple panties completely soiled. Crying out, her body jerked backwards, and she lay there with her back on the bed, slowly trying to control her breathing. You watched her chest heave up and down until eventually her legs relaxed enough to let you slip your hand out from between them.

“You’re the best,” she moaned, voice breathy, as you lay down on your side next to her. Her eyes were leaking, not from despair like earlier, but from pleasure. She took a couple of minutes to just recover until her breathing finally calmed down. “Now, let’s get back to what you’re here for.”

“If you insist,” you said with a smile as she climbed on top of your body.

“Can I use my mouth?” she asked softly.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, out of all the men I’ve…” she said before pausing, the pain in her face showing for a second before she continued. “You’re the first one who I actually want… the first one who deserves it.”

With both of your hands, you held her face and kissed her passionately. At first she was hesitant - perhaps from the shock of your confidence - however, it wasn’t long before she accepted the kiss. Not only accepted it, but returned it. This level of passion should be impossible from such a short time together, yet for some reason Jisoo felt different. For some reason, you felt like you had known her for years, and kissing her just felt right.

“Forget all those other men,” you whispered into her face, holding your mouth right in front of her. “You did what you had to do, tonight doesn’t define you.”

“Then let me do things I shouldn’t do,” she whispered, running her fingers down your chest while sliding down between your legs.

After contemplating it for a second, you agreed, leaning back on the bed and pushing your crotch forward. She smiled bright, her eyes squinted again, it was extremely cute, but cute wouldn’t be an apt description of what was to follow as she moved her face over your lap.

Admittedly, she lacked the skill of Lisa, but Jisoo’s touch was so tender that it made up for her lack of experience; You had to ignore the sharp tinge of guilt you felt, thinking about Lisa, reminding yourself this was something you had to do for your career.

Jisoo wasn’t just trying to get you off; She was making love to your cock with her mouth. It wasn’t a lusty blowjob, it felt like she was your partner. Ridiculous, obviously, as you had just met her, yet for some reason she made you comfortable, just like Lisa did.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, reaching your hand onto her shoulder and massaging it gently while you placed a pillow below your head, making it easier to watch her work. “You deserve the best, Jisoo, you are the best.”

Her inner pride must have ignited because her lips began moving just a bit faster, pressing down just a bit harder, and her mouth became just a bit wetter. She must love the praise, you were probably the first man tonight to actually appreciate her efforts.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you groaned softly. “The prettiest girl in this whole club, maybe in the whole world.”

Perhaps it was part of your imagination, but you could have sworn you saw the corners of her lips curl up in the most subtle smile possible - all that was allowed while you had your shaft in her mouth.

“There’s no face more perfect,” you whispered, pushing the few strands of her hair that fell forward behind her ear again. “The perfect canvas.”

She released your cock with a gasp, breathing heavily, staring seductively up at you.

“Cover my face,” she whispered as she jerked you off, her hand moving twice as fast as before. “Please cum on my face.”

The dichotomy of her pretty face and her filthy words drove you insane. A girl this pretty had no right begging to have her face coated in cum, her face was one for magazines and photoshoots, not one to be used as a target for your orgasm.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned as she once again brought her mouth to your cock. “Just a bit more.”

No rest, no complaints, she put in the effort, and you body appreciated it. Getting sucked off was one thing, getting sucked off by a girl who wanted to was a whole different experience. Jisoo, falling into the latter category, felt phenomenal with her lips hugging your cock warmly.

Watching her orgasm earlier had primed your body, alongside the fact that one of the prettiest girls you have ever seen had your cock in her mouth, and you could feel yourself dangerously close. You had to remind yourself of your goal here as a fleeting thought flashed through your mind: If you finished in her mouth, you’d get another round with her.

Not to Jisoo, though, you simply did not have it in you. She was special, and the way she was sucking your cock made it seem like the feelings were mutual - or you were being delusional because you were about to cum. Either way, you reached down with your hands until she got the hint and grabbed on.

She locked eyes with you, her fingers intertwined with yours, her lips pouted on your cock, and her face bobbing up and down. A few strands of her hair blocked her gorgeous face partially, but she couldn’t look prettier if she tried. Your cock was heating up, about to release into her mouth, when you let go of her hands.

“I’m-” you moaned, luckily that was enough of a heads up for her.

Jisoo gave you a final few hefty pumps, squeezing your cock tightly with her lips, before pulling back. She slid down your body until she fell off the bed and onto her knees. You quickly picked yourself up, standing right in front of her.

Cock in hand, you brushed her hair out of her face and behind her ears, stroking yourself right in front of the unrealistically beautiful girl. She was looking up in anticipation, chin up, eyes ready to shut as soon as the first streak landed.

She did just that. After a violent recoil from the first gush of cum landing on her upper lip, she shut her eyes tight and held her face steady. It didn’t look like she particularly enjoyed it, but she remained fixed in front of your cock, accepting each and every pump of your cum onto her face. She was beautiful before, but having your seed plastered across her nose and lips made her look so much better.

With cum all over her mouth and nose, your final, less forceful, spurts dripped down onto her chin. She moved her face forward slightly, catching it all, not wanting to waste a drop. Once your cock stopped pulsing in your hand, you squeezed from your base, adding the remaining cum to the pool on her mouth.

“Camera,” she mumbled, holding her face up in an attempt to hold all the cum before it spilled.

You quickly rushed over, grabbing the camera and snapping a picture of her. After carefully placing the device aside, you crouched down next to her and put your hand on her back. For a few minutes the two of you simply sat there, taking in the events of what just happened. You met an unrealistically beautiful girl, and now she was sitting next to you with your cum plastered all over her face, dripping down onto her thighs.

“I don’t quite know what to say.”

“If you wanna be like the others, this is when you start begging to have sex with me,” she laughed, the pain in her voice sneaking through again.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through this,” you said, gently rubbing her back. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No,” she answered softly. “Thank you, for being the most tolerable one tonight.”

“Thank you for…” you replied. “Yeah…”

It was a relief that she still had the ability to laugh after the events of the night, especially since her laugh was so endearing. You hoped she would succeed in achieving whatever goal she was pursuing given how diligently she worked tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to deny her now.

“Well, I should probably get going,” you said awkwardly. “There’s actually a girl waiting for me.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No, I met her tonight.”

You received a judgmental glance from Jisoo.

“She’s not that type of girl,” you defended yourself. “I really like her.”

“Then I hope you two have a lovely night,” she said with a chuckle while wiping her face on the bed sheets. “Sorry that you had to do this, maybe don’t tell her about it.”

“You, too,” you replied, leaning in for a hug. “I’m glad we met, even if the circumstances were a bit… weird.”

“Can I ask one thing before you go?”

“Anything.”

“Do you mind taking off the mask?” she said shyly. “I know you’re not supposed to, but-”

“Here,” you silenced her, lifting the half-mask up and smiling. “Now you know I’m a real person.”

“Oh there was no doubt about that,” Jisoo laughed. “Your cum felt very real.”

“I hope we meet again one day, under different circumstances,” you said finally before standing up.

“Me as well.”

After leaving the room, you met the guard from earlier in the hallway as well as two others.

“Just head back to the booth and sit tight while we check on her,” he instructed as two other men walked into the room.

“Sorry, but would it be possible for me to head out?” you asked, once again thinking about Lisa waiting for you.

“Not just yet, might need you for the finale,” he replied. “You definitely don’t want to miss that one, if you get picked you get a hefty reward.”

—

“My God she is such a slut.”

“Come on boys, why is my throat so empty?” Jennie asked the crowd of suited executives around her. “It’s almost like you don’t even want to fuck me.”

A rush of bodies began shuffling around, trying to get closer to her, begging to be picked - begging for a turn with her. Jennie knew there was a never-ending supply of cock for her to take, she just loved seeing how badly they wanted her. It turned her on like nothing else knowing these men would do anything to put their cocks inside her.

“No one? Are we done, then?” she teased as a few of the men stroked themselves in front of her nude body. She leaned back on the beanbag she was seated on, lifting her legs wide for everyone to see. “No one? I kinda want my asshole filled up again, can’t anyone do that for me?”

“Please Miss Jennie!” one of the men shouted, dropping to his knees in front of her with his head down.

Jennie pressed her foot against his forehead, pushing it upwards so that he was looking at her in the eyes.

“Are you going to fuck my little asshole?” she asked while sliding her foot around his mouth.

“Yes, Miss Jennie, if you’ll allow it,” the man begged as the crowd began laughing. Even though they were laughing, most of them were secretly wishing to be in his position right now, jealous that he had the nerve to act.

“But my little asshole is still so full of cum from the last person,” Jennie whined frivolously while turning around onto her hands and knees, looking back at the man over her shoulder while spreading her ass for him. “Can you at least clean it up first?”

The man didn’t hesitate for even a second before shoving his face between Jennie’s cheeks, not caring at all about how filthy the act truly was. The crowd was cheering, a few of the men were moving closer to Jennie in hopes that she would pick a couple more of them. They all knew Jennie was rarely satisfied with just one cock in her - at least that’s what the last hour or so would indicate.

They were right, Jennie beckoned for a few of the men who had their cocks out to move closer. She effortlessly took one in each hand, and a third into her mouth, all while the first man was still eating her ass out. Her face bobbed back and forth aggressively, random drops of cum from earlier falling off various bits of her body.

“Miss Jennie, you’re requested downstairs.”

Jennie released the cock from her mouth and turned to see a trio of bodyguards in front of the crowd.

“What happened?” she asked, still stroking the two cocks in her hands. “What’s so important that you’re ruining my fun?”

“Miss Jisoo is ready for part three, the finale.”

“Part three? I thought she was done already?” Jennie asked with her eyes wide open, her hands releasing the cocks. “What was part two?” she demanded, angrily pushing the man licking her asshole away as she stood up and grabbed her long coat.

“Facial train,” the bodyguard answered, motioning to one of the other guards to collect Jennie’s clothes before following Jennie as she hurried towards Jisoo’s room.

“She did a facial train?” Jennie gasped, speeding up her pace. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“We thought you knew,” the bodyguard said, speeding up as well to keep up.

“No I didn’t fucking know!” Jennie screamed, basically running at this point.

She slammed the door behind her as she pushed past the man guarding the door to enter the room. Jisoo was inside, sharing a bed with a man.

—

“She chose you,” the bodyguard explained as you followed him back to Jisoo’s room. “She didn’t even hesitate, you were the only one she even considered.”

“What do I have to do now?” you asked while following.

“The instructions are written here,” he said while handing you an envelope. “I don’t think she knows yet, so you’ll be the one to tell her.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you said as you approached the door.

“Hey, you’re an insanely lucky man,” the bodyguard said, turning to you. “Ignoring the fact that you’re going to be fast-tracked for a promotion thanks to her picking you, you also get to be with one of the prettiest girls at this entire party. Do you have any idea how long the regulars have been waiting for her to finally come?”

“No, this is actually my first one as well,” you replied.

“First… you seriously are the luckiest son of a bitch in this whole building,” he laughed. “Alright, go treat her well, she obviously took some sort of liking to you.”

Hesitantly, you walked into the room, past the curtains where you found Jisoo sitting on one of the couches wearing a purple bathrobe. In her hand she held a little makeup kit, applying mascara to her bare, just-showered face.

“Hey,” you announced as you approached her.

“Hey,” she replied back, flashing you a very short smile, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I know you said you had a girl waiting, but when they asked me… I didn’t know who else…”

“It’s fine,” you quickly said while rushing to her side as soon as you noticed she was about to break down again. “Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you through this, alright?”

She looked up at you and smiled warmly, her eyes leaking down her cheeks. You reached up with your sleeve and wiped her face before holding up the envelope.

“Do you want to read it together?”

“Read it to me,” she said quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” you said softly while taking a seat next to her and opening the envelope. “Dear Miss Jisoo, if you’ve made it this far that means you have done an amazing job. You’re almost done now, there’s only one final request if you would be so kind to cooperate. You’ve surely already picked your favorite participant from part two by now, and for part three you and your chosen will…”

“Will what?” Jisoo asked as you paused. “What does it say?”

“You and your chosen will also be recording a…” you hesitated again. “Jisoo, remember you can stop this at any time, you do not have to go through with it.”

“Recording a what?” she demanded despite already knowing the answer, tears forming in her eyes again.

“Furthermore, if your chosen is unable to produce a video up to our standard, we will provide a replacement. You have our sincerest assurance that the video will never leak, it will be exclusively for company use,” you quickly finished the letter, skipping the line.

“They’re all going to watch me get…” Jisoo’s voice faltered.

“We don’t have to do this,” you replied, empathy filling every fiber of your being. “I’ll be here for you, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“You’ll also get a huge promotion for doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Forget about what I get, this is about you.”

She looked up at you with a face full of emotion - appreciation, maybe?

“I’ve never…” she whispered, nervousness dripping out of each syllable. “It would be my first time.”

“Jisoo,” you whispered back, taking her hands into yours. “It’s entirely your call, take as much time as you want to think about it.”

“I know we just met,” she said quietly after a moment of contemplation. “But if it had to be with someone…”

She waited, thinking about it some more, and you sat patiently, holding her hands still. They weren’t shaking anymore, she even seemed calm.

“I’ll only do it if you’re one hundred percent sure,” you said firmly. “The only thing that matters is what you want to do.”

Before she could answer, the door shot open and another girl ran through the curtain.

“Jisoo I’m so sorry!” she screamed, running up to the bed and flinging herself into Jisoo’s body. “I had no idea, please please please forgive me.”

Jisoo said nothing, she didn’t even move. No reaction at all to the girl hugging her, not until she let go and a single tear slid down her cheek.

“Jisoo please, say something, I’m sorry!” the girl begged to no avail before turning to you with a sour expression. “Who are you? Did you also join in-”

“Do not attack him,” Jisoo scowled, finally speaking up. “He was here for me when you weren’t.”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t undo what I went through tonight,” Jisoo replied coldly. “This was your idea, I never wanted to do any of this, yet somehow I’m the one who had guy after guy paint my face with their cum.”

“Jisoo…”

“And what were you doing?” Jisoo screamed. “Queen Jennie was too busy getting fucked by the whole club. The Queen of dick doing what she does best, but she still just couldn’t keep her promise.”

“Please,” Jennie pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of Jisoo. “Tell me how I can fix this.”

“You tell me,” Jisoo hissed. “For the finale I’m going to lose my virginity in front of an audience, and it’s going to be recorded. You tell me how you can fix this.”

“Let me talk to them,” Jennie begged. “I’ll convince them to let me make the video instead.”

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat. “Maybe it’s best if the two of you figure this out without me.”

The two girls turned to you in shock, it was like they completely forgot you were also there.

“You can’t leave,” Jennie said dismissively, barely even shooting you a glance.

“I’m sorry,” Jisoo apologized a bit more empathetically. “If you leave, it looks bad on me.”

“Uh,” you hesitated. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Jennie turned away from Jisoo to face you. She looked you up and down with her arms crossed before sighing heavily and tossing off her long coat, exposing her completely nude body underneath.

“Stop pretending you’d pass on this,” Jennie said with an eyeroll.

It suddenly dawned on you, this was the girl from the balcony earlier. The girl getting gangbanged right in front of everyone.

“Why are you just staring,” Jennie snarled before grabbing your hand and placing it between her legs. “Can you fuck this pussy or not.”

“Jennie stop,” Jisoo shouted, her eyes full of a focused rage. “I like him, don’t treat him like one of your fucktoys.”

Jennie let go of your hand and turned sideways to face Jisoo again. The curves of her body right in front of you as she casually stood there in the nude, facing sideways. You won’t lie, in a purely physical way, she was definitely fuckable.

“Fine, then you talk to your boyfriend,” she complained. “Or better yet, you can just fuck him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jisoo retaliated angrily.

“Then stop acting like he’s interested in more than shoving his cock in you,” Jennie snorted. “I bet he also made you use your mouth, just like all the-” Jennie’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the loud crack of your palm slapping against her bare ass echoed throughout the room.

“What the fuck?” she turned to you again, her jaw dropped in utter shock.

“Yeah I’ll make this video with you,” you said while standing up. “Let’s go talk to them about it.”

After taking a couple of steps towards the door, you stopped and turned around to see Jennie still standing there like a statue, stuck in place.

“Coming little slut?” you asked. “Let’s get this over with so you can go back to taking four cocks at once.”

Jisoo tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle her giggle, earning her a sharp glare from Jennie. When she turned back to you, her eyes were full of fire, she was still unable to believe someone would treat her like this. Odd, considering her actions earlier, you thought as you walked back in front of her.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like this?” she hissed into your face.

“I’ll talk to you however I want,” you replied, not taking your eyes off hers for even a moment as you shoved your hand between her legs. “If you’re going to act like a little slut, I’m going to treat you like a little slut.”

“I’m still…” her voice trailed off as an unsolicited moan escaped her lips in response to your two fingers jamming up her pussy.

“Still a little slut?” you mocked her, forcefully groping her tits with your free hand. “You’ve started leaking, does the little slut like being called a little slut?”

“Fuck you,” she said with a crack in her voice that made her cheeks glow pink. She shoved your hand away and stormed off towards her discarded coat as you released a puff of air from your nose. “Shut the fuck up,” she added while stomping towards the door.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered to Jisoo who was smiling at you, tremendously amused by how you were treating Jennie.

---

Part 2

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