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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil Schoenheit x reader

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think? Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

Series Masterlist

You'd avoided it for so long. For months, your best friend had been pestering you to read the shoujo isekai novel of the year. According to them, it was the epitome of romantic drama, the kind that would "turn your heart into a mess of feelings" and "change your life." So, finally, after a particularly grueling week, your willpower hit rock bottom. You caved. You bought it, poured yourself a drink, and figured, "How bad can it be?"

Turns out, really bad.

You’d barely made it past the first few chapters before your brain began to leak out of your ears. Every overused villainess plot point imaginable was crammed into the story like a contest of "how much nonsense can we fit in here before the reader gives up?" The evil fiancée everyone inexplicably hated? Check. The perfect cinnamon roll male lead everyone adored even though he had the personality of wet cardboard? Double check. The heroine who was so pure that even her sneeze would be enough to unite warring nations who also happens to be the saintess? You had to put the book down and take a moment when she gave a speech about friendship that was so saccharine, your teeth hurt.

Grumbling and filled with regret, you got up to refill your drink… only to slip on bubble wrap you swore yesterday that you were going to pick up later, fall face-first into the kitchen counter, and began to bleed out.

It was a comically stupid way to die. You knew that as you lay there, watching the light fade from your vision, your last thoughts being, This is the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me.

And then, darkness.

You woke up with a groan, your head pounding. As your vision cleared, you noticed you were lying in a very, very fancy bed. Silk sheets, gold trimming on the canopy, the works. And you were dressed in something frilly, layered, and far too complicated for someone who just woke up from a near-death experience.

"What the…"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze as the realization hit you. This was not your bed. This was not your apartment. This was… Oh god, no.

You whipped your head around the lavish room, recognizing it from the novel you’d been hate-reading just last night. The massive mirror above the dresser, the tapestry with an overly detailed family crest, the obnoxiously large bouquet of roses that smelled way too sweet.

You’re in the book.

Panicking, you scrambled out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror by the wall. The reflection staring back at you was not your own. Instead, you saw an unfamiliar face—her face. The one mentioned once, maybe twice, in the whole novel before being discarded like an old shoe: the betrothed of the villain.

The fiancée who dumps him for the male lead. The fiancée who gets themselves killed in the process.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned, slapping your forehead. “I’m the villain’s betrothed? I’m that idiot who leaves Vil Schoenheit because I fall for the human incarnation of a sugar cube?”

But there was no escaping it. You were now stuck in the body of a side character so irrelevant that even her death was treated as an afterthought. The one who leaves her handsome, ambitious, gorgeous fiancé for… Neige.

No. No, no, no. You were not about to die over a soggy cinnamon roll.

Determined to change your fate, you gathered your wits and opened the door to leave the room. But of course, you ran headlong into a tall figure, knocking you both back.

“Oof! Careful there!” a smooth, yet stern voice said. You looked up—and froze. Standing before you, looking like something straight out of a high-fashion magazine, was Vil Schoenheit. The man whose heart you were supposed to break, the villain who would later descend into madness after you ditch him.

And wow. In person, he was even more stunning than the novel had described. His golden-blond hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the window, his purple eyes were as sharp as they were beautiful, and his posture screamed confidence.

You blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded. You’re supposed to leave him? For Neige? You nearly gagged at the thought.

Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your wide-eyed staring. “Is something the matter?”

You gulped. Right. You were supposed to be cold and dismissive toward him, weren’t you? But how? This man looked like he could make the heavens weep with his beauty. How had your character ever even considered leaving him?

“No, nothing’s the matter!” you blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. “Actually, everything’s great! You look fantastic! I mean, not that you don’t always look fantastic—because you do—but, you know, extra fantastic today!”

Vil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re acting strange.”

Abort. Abort!

You quickly cleared your throat. “Uh, I’ve just been… thinking. About us.”

His gaze became sharper. “About us?”

You nodded, plastering on your most sincere smile. “Yes! I’ve realized… I haven’t been very, uh, appreciative of you lately. And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. So from now on, I’ll be the most appreciative fiancée ever!”

Vil looked at you as though you’d just told him the sun was cold. He clearly didn’t trust this sudden change in attitude. “What exactly brought this on?” he asked slowly, suspiciously.

Time for Plan B. “Oh, you know, just… reflection! Self-improvement! I thought, ‘Why would I ever look anywhere else when I’ve got someone like *you* right in front of me?’ You’re… amazing, really.” You cringed internally at how corny that sounded, but Vil didn’t seem entirely put off.

“Hm,” was all he said, but his piercing gaze stayed locked on you, watching for any sign of deceit.

You were sweating bullets, but at least he wasn’t storming off. Yet.

You knew from the moment you read the back cover that this novel was going to be a dumpster fire of clichés, but you were not prepared for the sheer chaos of it all.

So, first off, we have the heroine—the Saintess—who has somehow never faced a single hardship in her life, despite the fact that she’s supposed to be the kingdom’s beacon of virtue and a symbol of overcoming hardship. She’s engaged to the crown prince, who conveniently disappears on a diplomatic mission and dies offscreen, probably to make room for her new love interest, Neige LeBlanche. Neige. That sparkly ray of sunshine who is so perfect and pure that you feel like you need sunglasses whenever his name is mentioned. Because apparently, what’s more romantic than falling for a guy immediately after your fiancé kicks the bucket?

Then there’s the second male lead, the brooding Duke of the North, who checks all the boxes: tall, brooding, handsome, tragic backstory—yawn. Of course, he’s madly in love with the Saintess, and like any self-respecting second male lead in a trashy romance, he sacrifices himself for her later. Because nothing says “I’m irrelevant” quite like noble self-sacrifice.

And don't even get started on the heroine's best friend. She’s basically there to fawn over the Saintess and then inexplicably fall for Vil, the Grand Duke, after she pressures him into apologizing for insulting the heroine's dress. Like, why? Was his dress critique that alluring?

Now, Vil Schoenheit. The Grand Duke. The guy you’re currently stuck with as your fiancé. He’s actually a decent character—powerful, intelligent, not falling over himself to worship the Saintess like everyone else. But in the novel, he’s wasted. Why? Because he’s engaged to the character you’re now possessing—Miss Mean and Cold—who treats him like dirt because she’s too busy fantasizing about Neige. You know, the guy she has no shot with because he’s destined to fall for the Saintess. Then, when your character eventually dumps Vil for Neige, she dies in a freak accident. Vil, who actually loved her (for reasons no one understands), is so heartbroken that he turns into the main villain.

Yes, that’s right—this whole mess of a plot ends with Vil going full villain mode because the love of his life ditched him for the living embodiment of a children’s snowman and then died in a way that no one can explain. Cue the Saintess and Neige teaming up to defeat him and live happily ever after.

And that’s the story. A tangled web of nonsensical relationships, conveniently dead characters, and more emotional whiplash than you can handle. And the cherry on top? You're stuck in it, watching everything unfold firsthand. It's honestly a wonder the book didn’t end up as kindling.

A few days passed, and somehow, miraculously, you managed to keep up the act. Every morning you would wake up, still half-expecting to snap out of this bizarre isekai nightmare, but instead, you were met with Vil’s meticulous morning routine and the low hum of his voice offering helpful reminders about skincare.

And the more time you spent with him, the more baffled you became.

How the hell could the original character have messed this up?!

Sure, Vil was particular—okay, maybe borderline obsessive—about appearances. His lectures about proper sunscreen application could rival the length of the Odyssey. And yes, the daily inspections of your outfit choices felt a little like going through customs at a royal border.

But… he was kind? Like, actually caring?

Every meal was an event because he made sure you were eating properly and not just shoving random food into your mouth like the gremlin you clearly were before. He listened when you rambled about your day, offering advice with this gentle patience that honestly made you want to weep. How could anyone leave this?

You found yourself in front of a mirror one afternoon, pacing and gesturing wildly at your reflection, as if you could summon the spirit of the character you’d possessed. "What the actual hell was wrong with you?!" you hissed at the glass. “What kind of brain rot would make someone ditch a man like Vil?! Are you missing brain cells, or was your skull just a rental with nothing in it?!”

You paused, glaring at your reflection as if it could offer answers, but nope. It just stared back, helpless.

“Like, hello?!” you continued, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “You had a golden opportunity here! He’s literally gorgeous! He’s got hair that looks like it was hand-spun by some ancient beauty god, his fashion sense could kill a lesser mortal, and he—*gasp*—cares about your well-being?!”

You slapped your forehead dramatically. “How did you mess this up? Were you allergic to good things? Did you wake up every day and choose to be a feral raccoon instead of, I don’t know, appreciating this actual masterpiece of a human being? What, did you look at his perfect face and go, ‘Nah, I’d rather yeet myself into self-destruction?’ Because clearly, that’s what happened!”

Your reflection remained silent, offering no help, which only fueled your rant further.

“You absolute donut! You ridiculous bottle of poorly mixed potion! You—” You stopped mid-sentence, running out of sufficiently creative insults to throw at the former owner of this body. Because seriously, what kind of fool would’ve thrown Vil away?

You gripped the sides of the vanity table, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at your own reflection. "If I find out that you gave up on this because he once asked you to wear a face mask or told you to drink more water… I swear, I'm going to find a way to repossess you just to kill you again for making me deal with this."

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your self-directed tirade. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around to see Vil standing in the doorway, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Talking to yourself again?” he asked, his voice smooth but with a teasing edge. “You know, that’s usually a sign of stress. Perhaps we should revisit that meditation routine I mentioned.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, wondering how much he’d overheard. But then you caught sight of that soft smile he reserved just for you, and your brain short-circuited all over again.

Right. The original character was definitely an idiot.

The first major hurdle hit you when you least expected it.

It all started with what should have been a calm afternoon—a brief moment of peace where you and Vil could actually spend time together, no schemes, no weird confrontations, just enjoying tea. You were finally getting comfortable with each other, slowly building the trust that had been so fragile at the start. Finally, you thought, things were moving smoothly.

Then the overused villainess trope decided to rear its ugly head.

Vil was talking about an upcoming event he’d be hosting, his voice calm, his usual stern features softened just slightly by the moment of peace. You were finally letting your guard down.

That was until the door creaked open and in waltzed the heroine’s best friend, a girl with wide, doe-like eyes and a penchant for stirring up unnecessary drama. Behind her, looming in the doorway, was the second male lead—your eternal source of frustration from the novel. He was tall, brooding, and always, always popping up at the most inconvenient moments. A defeated looking Epel walked in behind them, with a look that screamed 'trust me I tried to stop them.'

“Oh no,” you whispered under your breath, recognizing this scene before it could even play out. You knew what was coming, and you braced yourself for the utter absurdity of it.

Vil’s sharp gaze flicked from the two intruders back to you, his brows furrowing in mild irritation. “What is it now?” he muttered, already sensing the impending nonsense.

The heroine’s friend, ever the bringer of chaos, marched right up to your table with a dramatic flair that could only come from someone who believed they were the only purveyor of justice. “I can’t stay quiet any longer!” she declared, pointing an accusatory finger in Vil’s direction. “Vil, how could you treat the heroine this way?! You’ve been so cold, so distant—and it’s clear that you don’t truly care for anyone but yourself!”

You blinked.��Excuse me?

Vil’s lips pursed, the irritation growing on his face. “And what, pray tell, did I do?”

“You know what you did!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms like she’d just delivered the most damning statement in history. “You’ve been ignoring her, brushing her off, and acting like she doesn’t even exist. She’s heartbroken because of you!”

You groaned internally. Oh no, this was that scene. The one where, because Vil once made an offhand comment about the heroine’s poor choice in dresses at a ball, suddenly he was painted as some cruel villain who was emotionally tormenting the delicate heroine. It was such an incredibly stupid misunderstanding that you distinctly remembered wanting to throw the book across the room when you’d first read it.

To make matters worse, the second male lead, standing silently but brooding in the doorway, was glowering at Vil like he was ready to challenge him to a duel at any moment. Because of a comment about a dress.

“Are you serious?” you blurted out, the frustration bubbling up before you could stop yourself.

The heroine’s friend gasped, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”

“Let me get this straight,” you said, rising from your seat with a groan, “you’re upset because Vil, what, didn’t shower her with praise at the last event? And now you’ve decided to come in here, storming into our tea time, to complain about it?”

The second male lead’s brooding scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. “Vil has been cruel—”

“About a dress.” You cut him off, waving your hand dismissively. “Vil made one comment about her dress. That’s it. And now we’re doing this whole song and dance like he’s some kind of evil tyrant?”

The room was already tense, the heroine’s best friend visibly fuming, but you couldn’t help it. The words just came out before you could stop them.

“And while we’re at it,” you said, your voice dripping with mock innocence, “let’s talk about that dress. You know, the one you’re all so upset about. I mean, I’m no fashion expert, but who in their right mind thought wearing that shade of mustard-yellow was a good idea?”

The friend’s mouth fell open, but you weren’t finished. “I mean, she walked into the ballroom looking like a sad banana trying to go to a high society function. I get it—saintess and all that—but there’s no reason to dress like the interior of an overripe cantaloupe.”

Vil made a choking sound next to you, and you dared to glance at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement. Oh, he wasn’t pleased with the crudeness, but he definitely wasn’t going to stop you either.

“And you,” you said, turning to the second male lead, who had been standing there like a silent, brooding statue, just staring at the two of you menacingly. “What’s your excuse? You came in here with all this brooding energy, acting like you’re about to duel someone over the fate of the heroine. But seriously, what’s with your whole tragic hero act? Is your personality just permanent raincloud or do you practice that in the mirror?”

Vil covered his mouth with his hand, and you could see his shoulders shaking slightly. He was losing the battle to keep his composure, but he was trying—for dignity’s sake, of course.

Epel, on the other hand, had completely given up. The moment you’d said “sad banana,” he had fallen off his chair, doubled over in laughter, his face red as he clutched his sides. You weren’t sure if it was your insults or the second male lead’s thunderstruck expression, but either way, Epel was in hysterics.

“I—” the heroine’s friend sputtered, but you interrupted her again.

“Oh, and you.” You looked her up and down with a condescending smirk. “You really want to talk about fashion? Because I don’t know who told you that wearing ruffles with plaid was a look, but they were wrong. You’re out here looking like you got lost in a fabric store and fell into the clearance bin.”

This time, Vil snorted. Actually snorted. The sound was so out of place that it almost derailed your tirade, but you powered through, buoyed by his reaction.

The second male lead looked like he was ready to explode, his aura now bordering on murderous. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, can’t I?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Because it seems like all of you came in here with the intent to stir up drama over something as trivial as a constructive remark. If you’re going to go to war over fashion, at least wear something that doesn’t look like you picked it out with your eyes closed. Scratch that, I couldn’t imagine picking that up even with my eyes closed.”

By now, Epel was rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “C-couldn’t pick it out… with your eyes closed!” he wheezed, slapping his knee.

Vil, despite himself, let out a low giggle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well,” he said, his voice steady but filled with mirth, “I suppose subtlety was never your strong suit.”

The heroine’s friend, now red-faced and flustered beyond belief, grabbed the second male lead by the arm and yanked him toward the door. “This isn’t over,” she spat, glaring at you. “We’ll see who’s laughing when the heroine—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved dismissively, “when the heroine what? Realizes she’s been pining for someone who can't tell mustard from elegance? Trust me, I’m not worried.”

With that, they both stormed out, slamming the door behind them in a huff of embarrassment and frustration. The second they were gone, you let out a breath and sank back into your chair, grinning at Vil, who was now openly smiling.

“You really didn’t hold back, did you?” Vil said, his amusement evident despite his usual calm demeanor. “I don’t approve of such… crude insults, but I must admit—” his lips twitched— “it was rather effective.”

Epel, still recovering from his laughing fit, managed to haul himself back into his seat, wiping tears from his eyes. “That was… that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said between gasps for air. “I can’t believe ya said that right to their faces!”

“Glad to be of service,” you said with a grin, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d actually said all of that out loud. But judging by Vil’s pleased expression and Epel’s ongoing laughter, it had been worth it.

Maybe surviving this trash novel wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You’d barely had time to process how bizarrely normal your life as the villain’s fiancée had become when the next absurd isekai plot point decided to rear its ugly, trope-filled head again.

It all started at yet another lavish tea party. Honestly, you’d begun to lose track of how many of these events you were forced to attend. They all blurred together into a haze of polite smiles, floral patterns, and far too much sugar.

This time, you were seated next to Vil, who, as always, looked like he had just stepped out of a renaissance painting. You, on the other hand, were trying not to spill tea on the new dress he’d insisted you wear. The dress itself was lovely, of course—Vil had impeccable taste—but the whole setting made you feel like you were constantly walking on eggshells. Especially since she was here. The heroine.

Today, though, you were determined to get through it without any drama. Just smile, nod, and let the heroine do her thing. Easy, right?

Wrong.

Everything had been going smoothly, too. The heroine, in all her sunshiney glory, was seated at the table, surrounded by her usual group of admirers. You had been doing a great job of fading into the background until someone—the hostess, perhaps?—brought up your previous adventures.

“Oh, didn’t you once accompany the Grand Duke to deal with that bandit problem on the eastern border?” the hostess asked, fanning herself with interest. “What a thrilling ordeal!”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of too many eyes on you. “Well, I wouldn’t say thrilling exactly…” you began, trying to downplay it, but your nerves had other ideas. “I mean, the heroine here was probably off rescuing some poor lost puppy while I was just, you know, holding down the real danger.”

The air went cold.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. The table fell silent, save for the quiet clinking of teacups being set down. Every eye was on you. The heroine’s wide, eyes blinked at you, full of hurt and confusion. And across from you, the second male lead—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding—looked like he was ready to leap across the table and strangle you on the spot.

Oh no. Oh no no no. Why did you leave your filter at home?

You opened your mouth to apologize, but before you could, the second male lead slammed his cup down on the table, the porcelain rattling ominously. “You dare insult her honor?!” he roared, rising from his seat like some kind of vengeful storm cloud. “I will not stand for this!”

*Why did I say that?* You cringed internally, face turning a bright shade of crimson. "I-it was a joke—"

“No,” he declared dramatically, pointing a finger at you. “I demand satisfaction! A duel for her honor!”

You were still too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation. A duel? Over this? All you’d implied was that the heroine wasn’t exactly… battle-hardened. Surely that wasn’t duel-worthy? This man was acting like you’d called his mother a turnip or something worse.

The heroine, ever the epitome of grace, tried to intervene. “There’s no need for—”

But Mr. Broody wasn’t having it. “No! Her honor has been besmirched, and I shall defend it with my life!”

Vil, who had been watching this spectacle unfold with an expression of mild disgust, finally rose from his chair. His cool gaze swept over the table, landing on the second male lead with all the intensity of a snake about to strike.

“If anyone’s honor has been besmirched,” Vil said icily, “it’s mine. And I will not allow my betrothed to be disrespected by the likes of you.”

You blinked up at Vil, stunned. “Wait, you’re going to duel him? Yourself?”

Vil turned his piercing gaze to you, and though his face remained calm, there was a glimmer of something softer in his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “I would never entrust such a matter to anyone else. Besides…” His lips curled into a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve put an upstart in his place.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. Was it getting hot in here?

The second male lead, apparently unaware of just how screwed he was, smirked triumphantly. “Very well! Let’s settle this once and for all.”

The duel was set for the next day in your estate gardens. You spent the time leading up to it pacing back and forth in your chambers, wringing your hands in nervous anticipation. Somewhere along the way, you’d decided that you needed to do something—anything—to support Vil. So you had spent hours learning how to embroider a handkerchief, your fingers aching from the effort. By the time you finished, you were practically shaking, but you were proud of the result.

You didn’t expect Vil to be touched, let alone notice that you’d worked so hard. But when you handed him the handkerchief just before the duel, his eyes widened in surprise.

“You made this?” he asked, holding it delicately between his fingers, as if it were some priceless artifact.

You nodded sheepishly. “I figured, you know, for luck. Or to rub it in his face after you beat him. Whichever.”

Vil chuckled, his usually sharp expression softening. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. He then noticed the small needle marks on your hands and frowned. “You hurt yourself.”

You quickly hid your hands behind your back. “It’s nothing! I mean, I’m fine. Just a few pricks here and there.”

Vil’s expression softened even further, and for a moment, he looked almost… touched. He carefully tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll be sure to put this to good use.”

You didn’t swoon. Well, maybe just a little.

The duel was, in a word, ridiculous.

The second male lead strutted around like a peacock, his sword gleaming in the afternoon sunlight as he swung it dramatically for the small crowd that had gathered. “Prepare yourself, Schoenheit!” he bellowed, pointing his sword at Vil.

Vil, on the other hand, looked utterly unimpressed. He barely glanced at the man before calmly removing his coat and handing it to you. “Hold this, will you?”

You took the coat with a nod, trying not to pass out from how effortlessly graceful he looked even in the midst of preparing for a fight.

The second male lead lunged forward with all the finesse of a drunken ox, his sword clashing loudly against Vil’s. For a moment, it looked like a real duel—until Vil, with a single fluid motion, disarmed the man in one clean strike. The second male lead’s sword went flying, landing in the bushes several feet away with a pathetic thud.

The crowd gasped, and you had to stifle a laugh. It had barely been five seconds, and the duel was already over.

The second male lead stood there, stunned, his hand frozen mid-air where his sword had been. He blinked once, twice, then turned bright red with embarrassment. “W-what?!”

Vil, ever composed, didn’t even break a sweat. He sheathed his sword and gave the man a cold, dismissive look. “This duel is over. Consider your demand for satisfaction... fulfilled. Now, kindly leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

You bit your lip, trying not to giggle as the second male lead sputtered and tried to come up with an excuse, but it was clear to everyone that he had been utterly humiliated. Even the heroine, standing off to the side, looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face.

As the second male lead stumbled off, defeated, Vil turned to you and offered his hand. “Shall we go?”

You took his hand, still trying to process how easily he had won. “You were amazing,” you blurted out, your heart fluttering as you gazed up at him. “Seriously, that was… wow.”

Vil smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Of course I was.” He then leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I expect a proper reward later for defending your honor.”

Your face went beet red, and you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe.

Yep, you thought as he led you away, his hand still in yours, surviving this trash novel might not be so bad after all.

It happened at one of those overly extravagant banquets the royal court liked to throw. You spotted Neige from across the room, all bright eyes and an innocent smile. He was the epitome of purity, as if his very presence could summon woodland creatures to frolic at his feet.

And you hated him on sight.

You watched in disbelief as everyone around him melted into puddles of admiration. He was practically glowing, and his overly cheerful, squeaky voice was grating on your ears.

The overly saccharine male lead stood there, looking like a cross between a baby bunny and a sentient cupcake. Everything about him screamed "pure-hearted." You nearly gagged on your drink, hoping no one noticed your grimace.

Vil noticed your sour expression and leaned in. “Is something the matter?”

“That’s him, isn’t it?” you said through clenched teeth. “The one I used to follow around?”

Vil followed your gaze, and for a moment, his lips twitched in the faintest show of amusement. “Yes. That’s Neige.”

You snorted. "I can't believe anyone in their right mind would prefer him over you."

Vil's lips curled into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Is that so?” His voice was silky, dangerously low, but you could see the flash of satisfaction behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you muttered, still glaring in Neige's direction. “I mean, look at him. He’s so… good. And not in a ‘wow, what a decent person’ way. It’s like he’s one bad haircut away from sprouting fairy wings and breaking into song.”

Vil let out a low chuckle, right next to you ear, (Lord, have mercy) the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way about him. You’ve been fawning over Neige for as long as I can remember.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up. “That was the old me. The dumb me. I mean, have you seen you?” You gestured dramatically toward him. “How could anyone even look at Neige when you exist?”

Vil was quiet for a moment, watching you intently. His violet eyes glinted with something unreadable, but you could tell he was pleased. Oh, he was very pleased.

“You certainly have changed,” he murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And I must admit, I find it rather… delightful.”

Before you could respond, a very familiar voice rang out from behind you. “Ah! What a beautiful reunion this is! A moment filled with l’amour, sparkling like the stars in the sky!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Rook Hunt appeared seemingly out of thin air, his hands dramatically clasped together as he beamed at you both. “I have seen many couples in my lifetime, but none quite so radiant as you two.”

You blinked, trying to recover from his sudden appearance. “Rook… were you just… hiding in the curtains again?”

Rook, ever the dramatist, placed a hand on his heart and smiled wistfully. “Ah, but how could I stay away when the beauty of your love draws me in like a moth to a flame?”

Vil raised an eyebrow. “Rook, you’re not helping.”

“Non, non, mon ami,” Rook insisted, twirling in place with a flourish. “I am merely basking in the glow of what is surely a love for the ages! The way your eyes meet, the subtle tension in the air—it is magnifique!”

You sighed, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but chuckle at Rook’s antics. Meanwhile, from the other side of the ballroom, Epel was watching the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. He caught your eye and shot you a grin, raising his glass as if to say, Good luck with this.

But the fun wasn’t over. Oh no. Neige, the human embodiment of a children’s choir, started making his way toward you. As he approached, his bright eyes locked on yours, his smile so innocent and wide that you almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

Almost.

“Good evening!” Neige greeted you, his voice as sweet as sugar. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to properly meet.”

You stared at him for a moment, unimpressed. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Neige blinked, clearly taken aback by your lack of enthusiasm. He probably wasn’t used to people not immediately falling at his feet. “It’s truly wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You squinted at him. “Mm-hmm.”

Vil, standing beside you, looked positively elated. You could practically feel the smug energy radiating off of him. He wasn’t even hiding his smile anymore.

Neige continued, oblivious to your complete disinterest. “I’m so glad we’ll have the chance to spend time together in the coming months! I hope we can—”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” you interrupted, turning away and pointedly ignoring his very existence.

Neige blinked again, looking like a lost puppy. You almost felt a little bad. Almost.

Vil, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early. His arm slipped around your waist, his touch gentle. “I must say,” he murmured into your ear, his voice laced with amusement, “I’ve never enjoyed one of these balls quite so much.”

Yup, maybe this novel isn't that trashy after all?

Everytime you think this novel might not be that bad, it manages to prove you wrong.

The day had finally arrived: the Founding Day Ball. The event to end all events, where the kingdom’s most distinguished were honored in a grand ceremony. And, of course, at the top of the list of honorees was Vil, who might as well have been carved into the actual history of the kingdom itself with how perfect he was.

As his partner for the evening, you were dressed to the nines, dripping in elegance you didn’t even know you were capable of. When you caught your reflection in one of the massive ballroom mirrors, you had to do a double-take.

"Who is that?" you whispered, eyes wide. "Oh. It’s me."

Honestly, if there was a chance of impressing anyone here, you were impressed with yourself.

The ceremony went as expected. Vil was awarded the highest honors, his name met with thunderous applause as he gave a speech that left the crowd swooning. You found yourself half-clapping, half-gawking, wondering how this man kept getting more perfect. Like, was he actually human?

But as the evening progressed, the dreaded scene you despised the most crept into the evening, like a bad smell at a gourmet dinner.

After the ceremony, it was time for the opening dance. Naturally, Vil, being the epitome of grace and nobility, was the prime candidate to lead it. You were fully expecting him to ask you, but before he could even turn in your direction, the heroine — yes, that heroine — appeared out of nowhere, like she was materializing straight from the pages of the worst romance novel ever written.

“Vil,” she said in a voice that sounded like honey and broken promises, “I trust you’ll grant me the honor of the first dance.”

You blinked. *Excuse me?*

She said it so confidently, as if it were a foregone conclusion, like she was used to the world revolving around her whims. It was the equivalent of someone just cutting the line in front of you at the store and expecting applause for their audacity.

Vil, for his part, didn’t even flinch. His expression was as cool and elegant as ever, but you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m afraid,” he said, voice smooth and polite, “I already have a partner for the first dance.”

The heroine’s face froze in a way that almost made you choke on your own breath. “W-What?” She blinked rapidly, as if her brain couldn’t process the fact that someone had just told her no.

You, too, were a little stunned, for a seperate. Was she actually planning on throwing a tantrum right now? In public? At a literal state function?

“B-But you always dance with me,” she stammered, voice rising in disbelief, her face turning an alarming shade of pink. “I’m supposed to be your first dance!”

You physically had to stop yourself from snorting. Always? He has never even looked at her for longer than five seconds! You couldn't recall a single time Vil had given her anything beyond basic pleasantries. The only reason she’d be in his line of sight was because she was constantly putting herself there.

Vil’s lips twitched slightly, though whether it was out of irritation or amusement, you couldn’t tell. “I don’t recall ever dancing with you,” he said calmly, as though she were discussing someone else entirely.

The heroine blinked, clearly taken aback. “W-What?”

Vil’s voice dropped to an even icier tone, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “In fact, I dislike the very idea of it.”

The heroine made a strangled sound behind you, like a baby bird trying to scream.

You looked around the room, half-expecting hidden cameras to pop out, because this had to be a prank. Who acts like this?!

And as you floated onto the dance floor with Vil, you couldn’t help but marvel at the absolute insufferable nature of the scene you’d just witnessed. This was, without a doubt, the moment that solidified your hatred for the trash-tier novel world you’d been trapped in. People like her actually existed here?

Behind you, the heroine stomped her foot like a petulant child, completely ignored by the crowd. It would’ve been almost sad if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

And as you twirled under the chandeliers, feeling Vil’s warmth beside you and the heroine’s tantrum echoing faintly in the background, one thing became crystal clear:

This novel may have been trash, but at least you were the one dancing with the prince of perfection.

It hit you like a ton of bricks one day—completely out of nowhere. You had been sitting in Vil’s study, watching him work. He was meticulously going over some documents, his brow furrowed in concentration, his golden hair falling perfectly in place despite him having been there for hours. You were supposed to be reading through some kingdom protocol book, but instead, your gaze kept drifting over to him.

He’s so… beautiful.

You blinked, the thought suddenly snapping you out of whatever trance you’d fallen into.

Wait…

Your eyes widened. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

You slammed the book shut, startling Vil from his work as you stood up abruptly. “I-I need some air.”

Vil raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “Something the matter?”

“No! Nothing’s the matter!” you said, far too quickly, your voice an octave higher than usual. You stumbled over your chair in your haste to get out of the room, nearly tripping on your own feet. “I just—need to—um—fresh air, yes, exactly!”

Before Vil could say anything else, you bolted from the study and down the hall, your heart racing as though you’d just run a marathon. You darted into the nearest empty room and pressed your back against the door, your mind swirling with confusion.

Am I falling for him?

You slapped a hand over your mouth, horrified by the realization. “No… no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I’m in love with a character from this awful, brain-numbing novel?”

You slumped against the door, groaning as the full weight of the situation sank in. How could this happen? How could my first true love— you gagged at the phrase —be from this trash novel?

There was no escaping it now. The butterflies in your stomach every time Vil looked your way, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled, the fact that you wanted nothing more than to be close to him… it was all painfully obvious.

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die of embarrassment in this ridiculous world.”

And the worst part? It wasn’t even one of the good isekai novels. You’d somehow gotten stuck in what could be considered objectively the worst one, and yet here you were, head over heels for a character who—against all odds—turned out to be the most amazing person you’d ever met.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, sliding down to the floor, your head falling back against the door with a thud. “I'm in love with Vil. I’m doomed. Completely doomed.”

“Mon Dieu! What a revelation!” a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows.

You yelped, whipping around to see none other than Rook Hunt—perched in the corner of the room like some kind of overly dramatic bird of prey, his hat casting a mysterious shadow over his eyes. His entire being radiated excitement, and you swore you saw actual sparkles in the air around him.

“Rook?! How long have you been there?!”

“Long enough, my dear,” he said, voice hushed with reverence, as though you had just confessed your deepest, most tragic secret. “Ah, love! The torment, the longing! The exquisite despair you must be feeling!” He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. “But fear not, mon ami, for I, Rook Hunt, shall be your faithful cupid! Together, we shall make Vil see the truth of your affections!”

You blinked, stunned. “Uh… I’m not sure that’s—"

“Ah, but you must!" Rook declared, swooping down to kneel dramatically before you. “Love, once realized, must be pursued with all one’s passion and determination! Do not let this opportunity slip through your fingers like sand in the wind! I shall assist you!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sheer intensity of his expression made you falter. Rook was looking at you like this was the most important mission of his life.

Honestly, what did you have to lose at this point?

With a deep, exhausted sigh, you muttered, “Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Help me, Rook.”

Rook’s grin stretched so wide it was borderline terrifying. “Excellent! This will be an adventure for the ages!” Before you could even process what you’d agreed to, Rook leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. “But we will need more help. A certain someone with a youthful spirit and just enough mischievousness to add that je ne sais quoi to our plans.”

Oh no.

Cue Epel.

“What the hell are you ropin’ me into?” Epel grumbled as Rook dragged him into your predicament not five minutes later.

“I have volunteered you for a most noble cause, mon petit pomme,” Rook said, not even breaking stride as he swept Epel into the room. “Our dear friend here is head over heels for our Vil, and we are going to help them win his heart”

Epel paused, blinking at you in disbelief. “Wait, Vil? That Vil?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of where Vil’s office was.

“Yes, that Vil,” you said flatly, already regretting every life decision that had led you to this point.

Epel gave you a dubious look. “And you agreed to let Rook help you?”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, fine. I’m in.” Epel shrugged, a wicked grin creeping onto his face. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it big.”

Thus began the most absurd, over-the-top, and borderline catastrophic schemes in an attempt to prove your love to Vil Schoenheit.

It started innocently enough. You wanted to make Vil his favorite tea. Simple, right? But Rook insisted that it couldn’t just be any tea. No, it had to be presented with an air of mystery and allure.

“Bring it to him while reciting a sonnet of devotion!” Rook suggested. “Declare your admiration with each step, so that he understands the depth of your feelings!”

“I’m not reciting a sonnet, Rook.”

Epel, on the other hand, was far more pragmatic. “Or you could just… write him a note and leave it with the tea?”

That seemed normal. Rational. You’d take Epel’s advice. So, you snuck into Vil’s room, left the tea and a note on his desk, and slipped out before anyone noticed.

The next morning, Vil eyed you suspiciously over breakfast. “Did you leave tea in my study last night?”

You nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “I see. How thoughtful.”

Then came Operation: Compliment Vil at Every Opportunity.

Rook, of course, insisted you be poetic. “Tell him his beauty rivals the very stars in the sky!”

“I’m not saying that.”

Epel chimed in with a much more straightforward approach: “Just tell him his hair looks nice. It’s always nice.”

But Rook’s enthusiasm was contagious, and before you knew it, you found yourself blurting out, “Your radiance is blinding today, Vil! Truly, I must shield my eyes from such ethereal beauty!”

Vil, who had been in the middle of inspecting his reflection, froze. His eyes darted to you, and he gave you a strange look.

“Are you… feeling alright? Did you perhaps get bitten by a stray Rook?”

You shook your head vigorously, your face heating up from how ridiculous you sounded. “Totally fine! Just… appreciating your beauty! Yep. Normal stuff.”

Vil didn’t say anything, but you could see a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked amused—and maybe a little pleased—but more than anything, he seemed confused.

At least he didn’t think you’d lost your mind. Yet.

You were convinced this novel had it out for you from the beginning, but this? This was a new low. The memory loss trope, the final attempt to make your life as ridiculous as possible, had arrived—right on schedule.

You knew how it was supposed to go. You’d hit your head (a complete accident, obviously), wake up with no memory of Vil, and immediately make the worst decisions possible, like falling for that knockoff prince, Neige. Cue dramatic heartbreak, public humiliation, and eventual abandonment. Classic trashy novel shenanigans.

But apparently, the universe—or whatever cosmic force was in charge of your suffering—had decided to take a vacation after all the work it had been putting in. Because when you opened your eyes and saw Vil leaning over you, worry etched into his perfect face, instead of forgetting him, you were… immediately smitten?

What?

And it didn’t stop there. When he took your hand in his, gently kissing your knuckles in that heartbreakingly tender way, it was like a light switch flipped. Your memories came rushing back, completely bypassing the whole convoluted plot about amnesia and bad decisions.

Because of course in this disaster of a novel, the solution to everything was true love's kiss. The most overdone, eye-rolling cliché in the history of romance, and yet here you were, living through it.

You almost laughed out loud. Of all the tropes this novel had thrown at you—evil fiancées, jealous heroines, duels for honor—this had to be the funniest. It was as if the universe had taken one look at your situation and said, “You know what? Let’s skip the suffering and go straight to the ridiculous happy ending.”

True love’s kiss. Really. This novel is mocking me at this point, you thought, fighting the urge to scream. But hey, at least you didn’t have to deal with more drama. And as Vil’s concerned gaze softened into a relieved smile, you couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this was one trope you didn’t mind after all.

You'd almost given up on confessing. Maybe you'll just live like this forever, your fate was sealed. The novel clearly doesn't want you to tell him how you feel.

But there was another ball (because apparently that's the only place that nobility had be at in this novel. What was this? the 108th ball of the year?) You'd decided that you'll ask him for a stroll under the moonlight and just tell him.

Of course, the novel is not on your side. What's new?

The ball was going well—well, for you and Vil, anyway. You’d just finished dancing, and he looked absolutely stunning, as usual. You were basking in the afterglow of all the whispered praise and envious stares. That is, until you overheard someone bad-mouthing Vil.

Of course, it had to be the heroine’s best friend, who was apparently using this grand occasion to air her grievances.

“I just don’t understand why Vil is always so cold to her,” she whined, loud enough for everyone within a three-mile radius to hear. “She’s the saintess! She deserves kindness and adoration, not disdain.”

Cue the dramatic gasps from the crowd. Ah, here we go.

You shot Vil a look, but he merely shrugged, rolling his eyes. He clearly didn’t want to start any trouble. But you? Oh, you were about to flip the table on these idiots.

“Excuse me,” you began, stepping forward, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as you made your way over. “I couldn’t help but overhear your incredibly loud complaints about my fiancé.”

The heroine’s best friend froze, clearly not expecting you to get involved. You smiled sweetly, but your eyes were throwing daggers.

“Let me set the record straight. Vil isn’t cold to her because she’s the ‘saintess,’” you air-quoted the title, “He’s cold to her because she’s an insufferable brat who’s so used to getting her way that she throws a tantrum every time someone says ‘no.’”

More gasps from the crowd. You could see Neige stiffening across the ballroom, already sensing where this was going. But there was no stopping you now.

“And don’t get me started on you,” you pointed at the best friend, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re out here defending her honor like you’re some knight in shining armor when, let’s be real, you’re just as bad. You fawn over her like a lost puppy, expecting her to shower you with praise when all you do is enable her delusions.”

Vil, somewhere behind you, was probably trying not to laugh. But you weren't done.

“And as for your precious Neige over there?” you tilted your head toward the prince-wannabe, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “He’s not some perfect angel either. He’s just a guy with an unsettling talent for showing up at the most convenient times, with that same doe-eyed, clueless expression, making everyone feel sorry for him.”

You didn’t stop at Neige.

"And as for you," you said, spinning toward the brooding Duke of the North, the infamous second male lead, who had been leaning against a pillar, looking every bit the tall, tormented, handsome cliché. “You’re not fooling anyone either. You’re the king of melodramatic entrances. Always lurking in the shadows, trying to look mysterious, but really, you’re just sulking because no one’s paying attention to you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you brooding? Again? Let me guess, you’re thinking about some dark secret that you’ll drop at the most inconvenient moment to make things worse for everyone, right?” You mimicked his deep, serious voice. “‘It’s the burden I must bear… alone.’” You threw your head back in mock agony, hands dramatically placed on your chest.

He straightened up, clearly offended, but you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And stop pretending like you’re some tragic hero,” you added, lowering your voice with a sharp edge. “You’re just a guy with commitment issues who sacrifices himself because you can’t handle the fact that the heroine doesn’t want you. Let it go.”

There was dead silence. You half-expected a chandelier to drop just for the dramatic effect. Even Vil had to look away for a moment, probably to hide the fact that he in tears, about to burst out laughing.

The heroine was slack-jawed, her best friend looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, and Neige… well, Neige just looked confused. As always.

Satisfied, you dusted off your hands and turned back to Vil, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe, as if he’d just witnessed some divine intervention.

You let out a satisfied huff and turned to leave. "Come on, Vil, I can't stand to be in the same room as these second-rate characters any longer, let's bounce"

Once outside, you saw Vil was still recovering, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think you may have traumatized half the ballroom.”

“Good,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “They deserved it. Especially that brooding Duke. ‘I sacrifice myself for the greater good.’ Ugh, give me a break.”

Vil chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. "Still, you didn’t have to go to such lengths for me."

You stopped in your tracks, spun around, and looked him dead in the eye. “Of course I did! I love you, Vil. I couldn’t just sit there and let them trash you like that.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. Oh. Well. There it was.

Vil’s eyes widened, a rare, unguarded expression crossing his face. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in your words. Then, without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, soft but sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had.

When he pulled back, his smile was the softest you’d ever seen. “You love me,” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, a bit breathless from both the confession and the kiss. “Yes, Vil. I love you. Even with all your ridiculously high standards and obsession with skincare.”

Vil laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Vil pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist, and asked with a quiet, almost teasing tone, "Well then, since you love me so much... should we get married?"

You blinked, your brain taking a second to catch up. "Wait—what? Married? Like, right now?" You stared at him, heart racing, before suddenly, an idea lit up your face like a firework. “Oh my god, yes! Let’s do it. Let’s get married ASAP. Like, today. Right now. Do we even need a ceremony? We can find an officiant and—boom—done. Just tell me where to sign!”

Vil’s eyes widened, taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm. “Are you… serious?”

You grabbed his hand, absolutely buzzing with energy. “Of course, I’m serious! Why wait? This dumbass universe keeps throwing garbage tropes at us, and honestly? Getting married right now is the perfect way to flip the script! Take that, fate!"

Before Vil could respond, an overly excited voice erupted from behind a nearby pillar. “Oh là là! Mon cœur can hardly handle this romance!” Rook leaped out from the shadows, practically sparkling with joy, as if he had been waiting for this very moment all his life. "The passion! The declaration of love! And now, a spontaneous wedding? Magnifique!”

“Rook!?” Vil’s voice was a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” Rook gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Non, non, Vil! I was merely ensuring your well-being as any devoted friend would!” He gave a wink, clearly pleased with his role as an unintended audience.

“Me too!” Epel poked his head out from behind another pillar, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, who’d wanna miss out on somethin’ like this? Y’all are gettin’ married!”

Vil let out a long, tired sigh, but you could see the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered.

“Oh, it’s happening,” you said, grabbing his arm again and dragging him forward. “We’re doing this, and it’s going to be the best wedding in this entire stupid book, Rook, Epel, you’re both invited. Wait, scratch that, you’re both in the wedding party now!”

“C’est incroyable!” Rook twirled dramatically, hands clasped together, already imagining his outfit for the occasion. “I shall be the most loyal and stylish groomsman! Oh, l’amour!”

“And I get to wear somethin’ fancy, right?” Epel asked, already envisioning something much cooler than his usual attire.

Vil was now fully grinning, his initial surprise turning into genuine amusement as he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You really are something else.”

“Yeah, and now I’m gonna be your something else forever.” You beamed up at him, still holding onto his hand like you might drag him to the altar yourself right now.

“Well then,” Vil sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let’s get married.”

Before you could even start plotting where to drag Vil to find someone to officiate, Rook suddenly gasped, clasping his hands together dramatically. "Mon dieu! How could I forget? I am more than prepared for this moment!"

You and Vil exchanged puzzled looks. "What are you talking about, Rook?" Vil asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Rook grinned, remviong his hat and and dramatically pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "Behold!" he announced, waving the paper with a flourish. "A certified license to officiate weddings. I took the liberty of acquiring it long ago, knowing that one day I’d be the one to unite you and your beloved. C’est le destin!"

“You’re… licensed?” Vil blinked, looking at Rook like he had officially lost it. "And you're walking around with the license in your hat?"

Rook nodded with a dazzling smile. “Why yes, I’ve been preparing for this glorious day! Every flower petal, every gust of wind, every glance of love I’ve witnessed between you both has been leading to this fated moment!” He struck a pose, the parchment still dramatically held aloft.

You stared at him, then back at Vil. "Okay, I know this is ridiculous, but honestly? This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, and I kind of love it. Let's just let him do it."

Vil put a hand to his forehead, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Are we really doing this?"

“Yes!” you declared, squeezing Vil's hand. “If we’re going full chaos, we’re going all the way. Rook, officiate the hell out of this wedding!”

Epel, watching the entire spectacle, burst into laughter. “Only in this house, I swear…”

Rook practically sparkled with joy, bouncing on his feet. “Oh là là, it will be my greatest honor! I’ve been rehearsing my officiating speech in front of the mirror for months”

“Months?” Vil repeated, a mix of disbelief and exasperation in his tone.

“Mais oui! Every day, I’d wake up and say, ‘Today could be the day!’” Rook sighed dramatically, already tearing up. “And here we are. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Now, shall we begin? I have the vows prepared, unless you have your own?”

You leaned into Vil, barely holding back laughter. “I have zero regrets about this. Absolutely zero.”

Vil sighed again but couldn’t stop smiling. “Only you could make something this absurd seem perfect.”

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay, this became way longer than I expected it to be but to be fair, i was on an extreme caffeine high and i'd just finished an assignment that had been beating my ass

#Vil x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #au: nobility #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #trash novel chronicles #fem reader

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ins4nebxtch · 2 months ago

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ultimate IT girl guide

a guide to looking effortlessly perfect

"You’ve got the false narrative of a girl who spends 30 seconds on her appearance, when, in fact, you probably spent hours.”

1. basic hygiene:

having clean teeth and good breath

smelling good 24/7. i highly recommend finding a signature scent as a scent is associated with memory, id suggest something sweet yet not too overpowering like vanilla.

being clean in general. regularly shaving and exfoliating your skin to get rid of bodily hair and dirt that accumulates on your skin to make your skin glow.

clean nails. having clean and maintained nails (with a simple design if you wish) looks better than having acrylics that are wayyy too long and appear tacky.

2. hair :

having smooth healthy hair looks much better than dry and damaged hair. take care of your hair by finding the best products for your natural hair. get rid of your split ends as they make the hair appear really damaged.

in my opinion, loose waves look the most effortless yet pretty. but don’t ruin your natural hair by applying too much heat! you can try heatless styling methods to achieve this look.

3. diet and exercise :

being toned is the way to go to fit this aesthetic

avoid oily foods or sugary foods that damage your skin. don’t completely get rid of these as we all have our cravings, but try your best to avoid it

find a workout plan that works best for you, keeps you healthy but doesn’t burn you out! moreover exercise releases endorphins that improve your mood.

4. makeup and skin care :

natural makeup on clear skin fits this effortless aesthetic perfectly!

take care of your skin by finding a routine that fits you the best, consult with a dermatologist for the best results.

having smooth, blended makeup creates an illusion that you aren’t wearing any at all! this appears much effortless than a full face. also try to avoid those really huge false lashes that make you look tacky.

maintain your eyebrows and find a shape that fits you best!

5. outfits :

having a signature style which suits your body type is essential. experiment until you can find what suits you best! you can use a body analysis app for this.

wearing outfits you’re confident in, hot but not too revealing goes a long way. confidence is key. wearing overly revealing clothing might seem like one is trying too hard, but if you can carry it with confidence then that’s great!

jewellery : having dainty, signature pieces is key! find out which suits you better (gold or silver) through an ai analysis and invest in timeless pieces. personally, i think minimalistic pieces such as solitaires, simple pendants, classic hoops etc. look much more effortless.

6. personality :

don’t be too judgemental towards anyone as you don’t know what they’re going through and this makes you seem unapproachable

don’t talk too much or overshare! this creates a mysterious aura which draws people to you more

confidence is key! posture is very important too, carry yourself with confidence and walk with your head held up high.

7. examples and references :

serena van der woodsen (gossip girl)

mia thermopolis (the princess diaries)

cher (clueless)

elle woods (legally blonde)

rory gilmore (gilmore girls)

robin scherbatsky (how i met your mother)

gigi hadid

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ceilidho · 9 months ago

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader) masterlist

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves.

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur.

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches.

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen.

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste.

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it.

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break.

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him.

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids.

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard.

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse.

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed.

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold.

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand.

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh.

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet.

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off.

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock.

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires.

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too.

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though.

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghoap x you

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reyenii · 6 months ago

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since edwin is very closed off, except for when he’s with his best friend, charles, costume designer kelli dunsmore reflected his buttoned-up mentality through his bespoke suit, complete with bowtie and collar. edwin’s outfit, along with charles’ period garb, were designed to help them stand out more in modern day port townsend. “i knew edwin would, because no one dresses like that now,” says dunsmore.

dunsmore wanted everything about charles to feel “a little bit cool and underground,” from his union jack and the who bull’s-eye patches to his checkerboard pins. his little cross earring and chain on the outside of his shirt are also meant to be homages to the ’80s.

in the show, crystal’s hero color is purple, which you’ll notice in her velvet coat and long silk letterman jacket, which dunsmore thought of as a psychic cloak with hand-embroidered patches, including the wilting rose of england.

her brown trench coat represents an explosion of everything going on in her mind. dunsmore decided the scribbled words and drawings are a result of crystal writing all over it to express her inner turmoil. there are even lyrics on there from the song she’s listening to on the tube when she meets the dead boys.

david’s connection with crystal seeps into her wardrobe, too. since david wears a flower shirt, dunsmore’s team hand-painted flowers onto crystal’s black boots. and niko is wearing a dark sweater with flowers on it when we first meet her, as an homage to crystal. the costume department also drew the same rune pattern the dead boys use to exorcise david in episode 1 onto crystal’s trench coat and on the tab of her wool bomber jacket. “so she’s always got some sort of protection,” says dunmore.

every color niko wears is inspired by what’s happening in that episode, from the green post-sprite exodus to blue when she’s feeling sad. niko only wears a white look, with nods to her japanese heritage, in the finale as a reset. the charms on her obi belt represent the colors she’s worn all season.

night nurse is someone who’s in control all the time and likes things to be in their proper place. dunsmore looked to vivienne westwood for inspiration, since everything in night nurse’s world is a bit exaggerated. (by the way, niko’s orange monochromatic look is a nod to her scenes with night nurse and night nurse’s red hair.)

since david is a demon, he finds a london boy that looks cool enough for crystal to find attractive. that meant dunsmore dressing him in a shearling jacket you’d find in “all the guy ritchie movies,” black pants and creeper shoes. the costumer’s mood board for “david the d” featured radiohead and amy winehouse and her husband blake, who often wore hats similar to the one you see david wearing in the show.

pay close attention to monty’s leather jacket and you just might spot an inlaid crow feather or two.

it’s not only esther who wears clothes with a gilt, old-gold color — cat king and night nurse also do as a nod to their villainy. (esther and cat king also have similar fur coats.) amidst her beauty, dunsmore wanted esther to be a little rough around the edges. she wears a cuff around her hand that’s adorned with a snake and a ring with teeth all around it to represent the teeth she’s collecting from all the little girls. her eye necklace is meant to be her witch pendant.

mischievous as ever, cat king has (cat) eyes everywhere and is aware of edwin’s affection for charles. so he wears charles’ socks the first time he meets edwin.

#well this is a very long post with an analysis of each character's costumes #charles rowland #dead boy detectives #edwin paine #edwin payne #niko sasaki #crystal palace #monty the crow #esther finch #night nurse #george rexstrew #jayden revri #payneland #painland

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merakidoll · 6 months ago

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two men who just wanted to please you, ( and each other). two men who was at your beck and call, two men who loved to you make you cum.

onyankopon and connie.

“spread them a little bit more ma’ma” you were dizzy, so incredibly dizzy. your cunt was sensitive, connie avid sucking on your clit then releasing it was a strong pop; all to turn around and fuck his tounge into your slimy wet hole. his eyes were glassy staring up at you, you couldn’t hunch your cunt into his face and that made him sad, but don’t worry; ony saved the day! he could see his two lovers were too in their heads to do anything, so grabbing connie’s neck he moved his face in your pussy.

he saw how his tounge licked and sucked at any crevice, nose bumping against your red clit while your jucies got all over his face. the vibration from his moans and incoherent banter sent shock waves thorougout your body. “n-no’more!” you whined, pussy clenching and unclenching, more essence falling out of you for connie to slurp up like a brainless man. he couldn’t hear what you were saying, just loving the feeling of gulping down your flavors, his tounge heavily satisfied. as for ony, he made you a deal. “one more baby, then i’ll move him. just give him one more,” you were greatful how his voice set that one last orgasm off. or maybe it was the good grills, or how connie rocked his cock in the silk bedsheet your cum practically making him feral.

“o-ohgodddd” your body shaking like a leaf in autumn, nails digging into the soft fabric ripping though it, while you saw stars. connie continued to eat at you; lick and suck, even a small grazing of his teeth until he was pulled back, a harsh whine leaving his lips while you let out shaky breaths closing your legs to stop the ache. your two boyfriends now stood in front of you, connie pressed against onyankopon’s back while he slowly pulled down his sweats to let his cock shoot out, standing tall and red, tip leaking so much cum. ony kissed connie’s neck licking over the hickies that you had left previously.

his hands slowly wrapped around the other man, gold rings causing him shiver, due to the coolness they brought to his hot body- then how tight his hand was around his cock. “she’s so pretty, yea?” ony whispered his words, slowly working his hand on the man’s cock, he could feel connie start to rock into him, staring at you like you were a meal. eyes low while his lip was between his teeth. “i said yea” ony repeated himself, more stern.

“y-yes fuck! g-gonna give her m’baby” connie’s eyes shut momentarily, pre cum falling down making a mess on his loves hand, his abs flexing at how close he was. he could hear ony say more things but he was too gone to understand. his ears were ringing, your taste on his tounge making him repeatedly swallow to just taste it one more time. the vision of how pretty you looked while he ate you flashing in his hazed state. then - visions of ony making you take his full length while you cried how it was too much. before he knew it, connie’s head fell forward, “ah’s” passing his lips while his cum shot out all over you. “fuck” onyankopon laughed to himself at the mess his boyfriend had just made but also how your scooped some up and ate it moaning around your finger.

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moondirti · 7 months ago

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simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.

It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.

He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.

Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.

Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.

He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.

"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.

"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."

Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"

"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.

"Well, he must be soft in th'head."

She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."

"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."

"Hm?"

"His loss is my gain."

"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"

And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.

Instead–

"Could be."

"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"

"Tha' obvious?"

"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"

"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"

She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?

"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."

And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."

It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.

"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.

"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."

Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.

He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.

(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!

I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)

Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.

And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.

When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.

But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.

So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.

(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)

"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "

"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."

Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.

But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.

"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.

"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."

He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.

Just wanna be fucked.

Daft, silly girl.

She should've chosen anyone else.

It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.

"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."

And he means it.

It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.

Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.

Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.

The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.

"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.

"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.

(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)

His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.

"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."

Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.

What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.

"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.

"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."

"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.

"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."

Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.

#should've made this a proper fic #it's longer than i expected it to be #anyway.#simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #x female reader #call of duty #fanfiction

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peachesofteal · 11 months ago

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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader - 18+ MDNI brief suggestive content, Christmas vibes (these characters do not celebrate Christmas religiously) 🎄 There'll be much mistltoeing / It's the most wonderful time of the year - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

"She's lovely." Laswell comments, standing at his shoulder in the living room.

"She is." He answers, but doesn't bother to look at her, too transfixed on you, watching the way you smile and laugh, champagne flute in one hand, baby in the other. Blood rushes through his body as he stares at you, marveling at how bloody good you look with the baby on your hip, and even though he knows it's an archaic mentality, he can't help but dream about giving you another. Kate gives him a smirk that he just barely catches from the corner of his eye, and he cuts her an exasperated look. "Excuse me."

"By all means."

He makes his way to your side where you're chatting with Gaz's date, Lily, wine colored velvet dress draped across your body, snug and silky across your skin. Your hair is done, styled differently, arranged on top of your head instead of your usual or pulled into something looser, shiny gold cuff curled around the top of your ear. You’re stunning, and his mind turns over, trying to determine if it’s okay or appropriate to tell you for the third time tonight that he’s obsessed with you, that he wants to get you home and worship you, wants to rip your dress off and ruin it. He wonders if you’ll let him take you home early, if you’ll be quiet for him when he bends you over the bed, if you’ll come on his cock all breathy and sweet with his name on your lips.

Emmaline sits embraced in nook of your elbow, white and green dress complemented by tiny, shiny, black shoes, babbling away at anyone who will look at her. She lights up when he steps closer, trying to tip out of your grasp towards his, discontent rising in her crumpled little brow when she can't break free.

"Hi." You beam, his hand finding the small of your back, Emmaline wriggling around to face him, leaning back with a big smile, knocking her head into his side. You roll your eyes at Lily. "I've become chopped liver to my own baby."

"Alright, sweet pea. C'mere then." He settles her on top of his forearm, chubby fist knotting into the collar of his shirt. "Let's give mama a break, eh?" You smile, relieved, reaching up for a kiss, tip toes stretching until he leans to meet you, and when you pull away, you give Emmaline one on her cheek, bright baby giggles echoing through the room. "We're going to see what the team is up to." He bounces her, and your thumb strokes a soft circle into his waist.

"Okay."

"There she is!" Gaz calls, and Emmaline squirms in Simon's grasp, pressing her face into his neck, head tilted just slightly so she can still see the guys, cheeks dimpled. She watches Kyle cautiously, incredibly shy, and Simon whispers to comfort her.

"What's wrong, baby girl? You're alright. It's just Gaz." She mouths at his shirt, and he smooths a hand over the back of her head softly. "She's not usually so reserved, loves attention."

"Ye're scaring her." Johnny admonishes as huffs, breath rolling in a fog through the chilled air, but when Simon turns, Emmaline whips around, peering over his shoulder to stare at Gaz, expression delighted.

"I don't think she's scared, Soap. Looks smitten to me." Johnny clucks his tongue, half outraged, and Gaz just laughs, stroking her cheek as she coos soft sweet nonsense towards him, making Johnny scowl.

“’m supposed tae be her favorite.” He grumbles, and Price barks out a laugh, clapping him on his back.

“Gotta get your own for that, son.” He shakes his head, reaching a finger out to her fist, letting her grab onto him. She immediately starts to drag it towards his mouth, and Price lets her, chuckling softly under his breath. “Needs something for her teeth.”

"I think we've got something in her bag." Simon rubs her back, watching how her eyes light up when she spots Price's beard, tiny fingers mindlessly drifting towards his chin. "Mama's been giving you frozen pacifiers, huh?"

"Ye should try scotch, my maw used tae give me some, when ah was a bairn." Johnny tickles his fingers across her side and she shrieks into a giggle fit, nearly choking on laughter that has him glowing with pride. "Who's yer favorite uncle, Emmaline? Is it Uncle Soap?" Johnny whispers in his best baby voice, and Simon snorts.

"She can't have scotch, MacTavish. She's a baby, and-"

"Alright out here?" You're standing in the door, half in, half out, teetering precariously on the top step, and for the hundredth time tonight you take Simon's breath away, light from the kitchen shimmering behind you like a halo, framing you in a soft, warm yellow glow, his stomach clenching.

"We're alright." He promises, already making his way towards the doorway, taking the stairs until you're within arms reach, Emmaline clapping her hands together when she spots you. "You okay?" He keeps his voice low, yet still tender, trying not to give the guys too much ammo, and you smile, spectacular and sweet, enough to make him melt on the spot.

"Yeah, just wanted to check on you two." You brush a finger across Emma's cheek, mouth opening to say something else when Johnny's voice rings across the patio, cheeky and smug.

"LT, ye're standın' under mistletoe." He hadn't noticed the cluster of greenery tacked to the bricked arch just outside the door, but it's hard to miss now, and when you glance above your head and laugh, he shrugs his shoulders. "Well..."

"Well?" You raise an eyebrow. A challenge. An invitation. Enough of both for him, encouragement not needed in the first place, his lips finding yours easily, pulling you into the bulk of his body, wrapping an arm around your waist while still holding Emma against his chest in the other. She bridges the gap between you, both of his girls safe and sheltered in his arms, and he blocks out the sound of Gaz and Johnny's shouting and whooping, focusing on the taste of your tongue, smell of your skin, plush lips against his. It's everything, you're everything, you and Emmaline- his family, his to love, to care for, to protect, emotion welling up in his chest that has him pulling away and pressing his nose against the top of your head, mouth finding your temple, your cheek, his eyes closed and breaths measured.

"Merry Christmas." He whispers, still holding you tight, and you dip forward to press a kiss to Emmaline's scalp, your hand reaching for his jaw, thumb reverently stroking across the scar on his cheek.

"Merry Christmas Simon."

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #codholiday2023 #simon ghost riley x reader

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pseudowho · 10 months ago

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Reader Comes Home Drunk

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Nanami Kento manages his drunk fiancée, you, like an absolute champ.

A sequel to Kento Comes Home Drunk (link here).

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, bondage, mutual masturbation, throat fucking, thigh fucking, m!receiving oral, f!use of toys, stripteasing, BDSM

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"And one more twirl for luck..." Kento sang to you, pinching your pointed fingers above your head as you laughed, twirling obediently, feeling dolled up in your little black dress, building up for your evening with Shoko. Winding down, and drinking you in with lovesick eyes, Kento leaned down to press a long, slow kiss to your hairline, fingers grazing your jaw longingly, careful not to smudge your make-up.

"I love you," you said in unison, laughing with light apologies tumbling over one another. You held your finger to Kento's lips, biting your lip as he took your finger between his teeth, licking and teasing. You crooned at him to stop, I'm going to miss my taxi, and he sighed, stepping back with glinting eyes, still pinching your fingers between his.

"Be safe," he implored, "and call me when you're ready for pick-up."

"You don't have to pick me up--"

"I want to pick you up--"

"But Shoko can't go home alo--"

"Gosh, I wonder if someone will drop her home too--"

"Kento, I really mean i--" A curt finger pressed to your lips. Your heart fluttered as Kento leaned down, his amber eyes narrow and flicking between your eyes and lips, hungry and determined.

"I really mean it," he pressed, leaving no room for argument, "I'll get you both home safely." Rolling your eyes affectionately, you blew Kento a kiss, and he felt a pang of disappointment for being denied your cherry-red lips. Winking at you as you skipped through the doorway, he settled in for a night in his own company.

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Kento had spent a slow night, preoccupied by the anticipation of your call. His mind had wandered to your little black dress, the soft curves of your legs and arse, the barely-there underwear he knew you had paired with it. At points, he was distractingly half-hard at the thought of your painted lips on his skin, trailing down his belly, wrapped around hi--

Kento's screen lit up, a glimmer of gold in his vision as your name and face popped up. Unlocking it, Kento snorted at the blurry selfie of you accepting a sloppy-lipped kiss on the cheek from Shoko, accompanied by a message; "Readyyy!"

Grabbing his keys, and kicking into some slippers, Kento locked up as he stepped into the crisp night air, heading down to the car.

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"Christ, what have you been drinking?" Kento huffed, hauling a warm and floppy Shoko onto his back as you teetered along behind them, laughing, waving goodbye to your new best friends (two women whose names you didn't know that you had met in the club bathroom that night).

Delicately bending down to open the car doors, he placed Shoko onto the back seat, tutting at her as she moved to slump sideways, sitting her up and buckling her in instead. You had flopped, chatting about your night, into the front seat and Kento smirked as you and Shoko laughed uncontrollably at a joke he didn't understand. Dutifully, Kento had been a graceful designated driver, and carried Shoko to her door, not leaving until she was safely inside.

In the car again, Kento stared determinedly ahead as he felt your gaze across his body, wanton and sultry. He was used to you, drunk, and horny beyond belief. He would manage you with the same sexless affection he always did--

Kento felt your toes, suddenly un-shoed, glide across his lap; you were sideways in your seat now, your legs bent with the supple flexibility afforded to drunk women. Kento smiled indulgently, otherwise outwardly unaffected, as your toes glided up and down his crotch, catching occasionally at his zipper.

Your head was warm and fizzling with the unbridled confidence of intoxication. You were not so drunk that you didn't feel Kento's cock twitch under your toes. Your eyes glimmered, arousal thudding and deepening at Kento's feigned disinterest-- a challenge. Kento grasped your foot, moving it firmly off his lap as he stopped at traffic lights.

"Sit forwards," he commanded, "and behave yourself."

"I am behaving," you whined, sweet and breathless and completely ignoring his instructions.

A twang of annoyance glanced across Kento's vision as he grabbed your foot again, hardened to your drunken advances and stubbornly not participating in them. Kento frowned, tense, irritated by how his own body betrayed him; there you were, draped in his car like a silk chemise, liquid and malleable, your legs parted just enough for Kento to see your translucent underwear, flush and damp against your pussy, your thighs plush and full and--

Kento coughed once as his cock swelled, twitching in its uncomfortably tight confines. You knew, your drunken arousal like a heat-seeking missile. You smirked, goading and taunting Kento, your foot squirming out of his hand and rubbing softly against his hardening length pressed to his thigh. Kento gritted his teeth, focusing stubbornly on driving.

With a flash of alarm, Kento could barely keep his eyes on the road as you sighed, biting your lip, coy and seductive as you let your dress slip down just enough for your pebbled nipples to peek over. Kento didn't realise his jaw had dropped until you leaned to him, slipping two fingers into his mouth, and bringing your newly wet fingers to your nipples, rolling them, lubricating them with Kento's saliva as you keened, mewling at him, another hand slipping between your legs.

"You-- you are unbelievable," Kento rumbled, disbelieving and furious with himself for being so mesmerised by your performance. He gulped, spit thickening as you rubbed your pussy with two fingers, still coating your nipples with his spit. You moaned, high-pitched and airy as you masturbated in the seat beside him, shamelessly provocative.

"My fingers aren't as good as yours...Kento...they're not-- want you inside me, please," you begged, fingers slipping under your sheer panties to find your clit, shuddering as the alcohol turned every touch into a buzzing pleasure.

"Fuck, you're-- don't do that, how the fuck am I supposed to-- to--, " he breathed, white-knuckled on the steering wheel as you rocked your hips into your own hand, eyes half-open as you viewed him like pornography; cock twitching beneath your toes, Adams apple bobbing, veins pulsing in his neck and temples as he scowled at the road, angry with you for forcing him into this moral quandary.

His anger thrilled you, your orgasm building as Kento denied you and himself, feeling his thread snap fibre by fibre as the slick wet sounds of you pleasuring yourself filled his car.

As your moans increased in urgency, with your fingers quickening, Kento somehow managed to park smoothly in the driveway. Pulling up the handbrake and clicking out of his seatbelt, Kento shunted over to you, caging you in. His anger hit you like a sandstorm as he glowered down at you, jaw clenched and twitching.

Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he removed your hands from your breasts and pussy, raising your fingers to your lips. He pressed them into your mouth, pre-cum dampening his boxers as you licked your fingers clean, giggling.

"Clean yourself up," he forced through gritted teeth, "before bed." You hummed, nose rubbing against his neck, sinking your teeth into the taut skin of his throat.

"Bed?" You asked, sweet, suggestive. Kento's scowl deepened, reaching down to unclip your belt, reaching past you to throw open your door.

"Bed." Your lips puckered in disappointment, chastised and mulish. Trailing down Kento's shirt buttons until you reached his groin, you squeezed Kento's cock through the thin trouser fabric, and he groaned in anguish and shock, his elbows almost buckling beneath him. Kento snatched your hand away and left the car, stalking round to your door, hauling you out.

You teetered barefoot, and Kento sneered, throwing you briskly over his shoulder.

"You make it fucking hard to be moral, young lady," Kento fumed, kicking the car door shut and landing a bruising slap to your arse, and you squirmed against his jaw as you squealed at the sharp tang of pain.

You giggled again, still wiggling as he carried you through the front door, slamming it shut. You moaned theatrically and felt his forearms tense around you, the aphrodisiac smell of your arousal on your underwear and dress making Kento feel faint with want.

"Harder, Daddy--" Kento slapped your arse again, much harder this time, and tears stung in your eyes as you cried out, snapped out of your teasing. You pouted, nose pricking as you whined at Kento; "You promised."

Kento tensed, rendered immobile. There was a brief pause as he dropped you into a dining chair--

"I promised you nothing. Go and get ready for bed." You glared up at him, both of you knowing he was lying, both of you remembering the night you had given in to his drunk begging until he came in your hand in the shower, shaking and moaning your name. Kento turned to walk away, corded shoulders bunched with unfulfilled need.

"Make me." Kento stopped, silent. You gulped, arousal still thumping through you, and as Kento turned back, leaning down slowly, he trapped you with his massive hands squeezing the arms of your chair.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, low and dangerous, nose-to-nose. You gulped, your mouth suddenly dry as Kento smirked, humourless and wolfish.

"Any lesser man would fuck you, drunk and sloppy like this," he mocked, mean and sharp, fingering the edges of your dress, "but I doubt he'd be able to fuck the entitlement out of you like I could."

You trembled, feeling a trickle of arousal seep through your panties and onto your dress. As Kento brought his mouth to yours, your breath mingling, you parted your lips to kiss him-- and he pulled away, jaw clenched, denying you again as he walked to your bedroom. You felt bitter disappointment and humiliation trickle down the back of your throat.

"Coward."

You heard Kento go rigid with fury. Drawers snapped shut. His shadow edged in the doorway.

"What was that?"

You couldn't stop yourself, stupid with inebriation; "Perhaps you are that lesser man who couldn't fuck the entitlement out of me," you taunted, terror rushing through you as you heard heavy footsteps slamming towards you, "and you're too much of a coward to find o--"

Your words caught in your throat as one thick hand clenched around your neck, your taunting reduced to a squeak.

"I'm a coward, am I?" Kento clicked his tongue, words deceptively light, "I suppose anyone would look like a coward compared to how fucking brave you're being right now." Kento let go of your neck and lifted the whole chair, frighteningly effortlessly, and began to move you towards your bedroom.

"'Make me'," he mocked, dropping your chair and you to the bedroom floor, slamming the door shut behind him, "As you wish. I'll make you go to bed, and fuck the attitude out of you along the way."

Kento caged you into the chair again, his lips hot and dominating as they crashed into yours, his tongue plunging into your mouth as you whimpered into him. Your hands grabbed his tie to hold him to you, and you heard him rummaging blindly in the drawers beside you.

As they snapped shut, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you, placing his hands under your thighs as he yanked you forwards to the edge of your seat.

"Why-- what are you going to do to me?" You begged for answers, equal parts thrumming with desire and dread. Kento regarded you coolly, hooking your panties down your legs. You shivered with anticipation, feeling the cool air hit your folds. Kento raised your underwear to his face, ghosting the fabric against his lips and nose, breathing in deeply, and out with a low, shaking moan.

"Only what a woman as beautiful and determined as you deserves." Kento reached behind you, grabbing a bundle of items in his long-fingered hand. Your stomach leapt, face flushing with embarrassment as Kento held your dildo and rabbit vibrator, usually hidden, reserved for when he was away. You stuttered, opening your mouth to explain yourself as he wiggled it at you, thin eyebrows raised in an unimpressed grimace.

"Eventually, anyway," he goaded, "first we'll see if we can teach you a little patience." Spitting on the dildo, licking and coating it with lubrication, Kento forced your thighs apart with his elbows, groaning at the sight before him.

"God, what I wouldn't give to take you right now," he groaned, drinking in your desperate little mewls as he kissed and licked at your sensitive soft inner thigh, his breath fanning over your core, and you involuntarily bucked towards his face. Kento chuckled, smooth and mirthless.

Silently, Kento uncoiled three ties from his other hand, his lovely brown eyes darkening as he tied your arms and legs methodically to the arms and legs of the chair; his own spotted tie, the last to be unravelled, formed the final bond. Your hands clasped and unclasped against the arms of the chair, lips parted and glistening as your chest heaved in the low light.

"Because you really are..." Kento held your trembling thighs open as he slid the dildo into your quivering pussy, tantalisingly slow, thrusting a few times, captivated by your white creamy arousal coating it as it slid deeper and deeper into you, "...spectacular," he breathed, shaky with restraint.

Kento played with you, his neglected cock throbbing in his trousers; he thrust the dildo in and out of you, some long, gentle strokes, some harsh and fast, and his hips bucked upwards into nothing, imagining fucking you to the pace of his ministrations. You trembled and cried out, pleasure building uncontrollably at the irregular pace.

Kento seemed to forget you were even there, mesmerised by the bouncing resistance in his hand as the dildo pumped insistently against your cervix. Kento pushed against the resistance slowly, firmly, licking his lips and releasing a gravelly moan as you tried to chase your hips away up the chair, whimpering with the overwhelming stimulation.

"Kento, please-- please--" Your cries rolled off Kento's back, uninterested unless you used your safe word, grimly determined to give you exactly what you wanted.

"Don't give me that shit," he scoffed, tugging the front of your dress down so that your half-exposed breasts bounced free, pressed up by the tightly stretched cups of your bra.

"Stroking yourself in the car just to the thought of me, trying to make me cum with your foot while I drive..." Kento cupped your breast in one large hand, squeezing with restrained biting indignation, flicking your nipple in his work-roughened fingers while fucking you with your own 'secret' toy. Your head spun, gasping, wrists and legs straining against your restraints.

"All because I had the audacity to be a good man?" His voice was soft and threatening in your ear, his feathered breath sending shivers through you, and he rumbled a humourless laugh, "Well...I tried to be a good man. Sit back and be a good little cock sleeve, darling. I'm still not sure if you even deserve me." He thrust the dildo into you sharply, and you squealed, begging him for release, your orgasm trapped deep in your belly.

You were so distracted by his voice in your ear, that you didn't notice his hand at your pussy slowing...before turning the vibrator on, immediately positioning the base of the dildo so your pussy was full and your clit felt the blessed relief of stimulation so powerfully that you almost sobbed.

Kento stood, stepping back slowly as he watched you twist and pant in the chair. With trembling hands, holding your gaze intently, Kento began to stroke himself, his own hands caressing the thick muscle of his neck and shoulders, down his chest, fingers teasing at his buttons, with a wolfish grin. You bit into your lip with a guttural groan, head swimming with tequila and frustration, so desperate to see more of him, jealous that he could touch himself where your hands usually roamed.

Kento was glorious in his striptease; the peaks and planes of his mountainous body illuminated by sharp light and deep shadow. He panted with self-deprivation as you leaned eagerly forwards in your chair, breathless as one deft hand began to undo his shirt buttons, and the other stroked his V-line, palm flat as his fingers plunged under his belt. His lips quirked into a lopsided smirk as a trickle of your creamy arousal ran out of you and onto the chair, your thighs trembling with need.

"You're such a fucking mess," he spat, laughing at you as you blushed, humiliation pulsing through your cheeks and pussy, "and you're in way over your head."

When Kento's wandering hands reached his zipper, he teased you, stretching the fabric over the outline of his throbbing cock, a patch of pre-cum soaking through and darkening the beige fabric. Walking back to you, one hand running through his hair, the other unzipped himself, and Kento reached through to grasp his cock, wet with pre-cum.

Your mouth watered, lips parting involuntarily as he sunk his fingers into your hair, gripping harshly at the roots to bring your mouth down, pumping himself firmly, holding your mouth not quite close enough to wrap around his red, angry cockhead. Whining, your tongue darted out, and Kento hissed as it swiped against his slit, a spurt of pre-cum dripping out in response.

"Let's put that tight little mouth of yours to good use, hmm?" With one hand tangled in your hair, Kento stood behind you and tilted your chair back onto two legs, as you gasped, your head tipped backwards and neck outstretched, mouth pulled open in shock at the sudden weightlessness.

Kento stroked languidly from your throat to your breasts, and back up, before gripping your hair again.

"I think...I'll make you clean me up, seeing as that mouth is so filthy already." Kento teased his cock against your lips, glossing them with pre-cum, gulping and shuddering as your tongue swiped out to suck him in. Tilting your chair back further so your throat was parallel to the floor, Kento pressed his cock along your tongue and cheeks, holding you still as he hit the back of your throat, fucking it slowly, feeling every ridge and wet suck of your mouth around him, seeing stars.

"Fffuuuuuck," Kento moaned, cock twitching in your throat as you swallowed and gagged. Kento moved slowly as you whimpered around him, taking intermittent wet deep breaths, "More tongue...more-- aaaahhh-- that's it, good girl, behaving so nicely for me now."

Your thighs shook, and Kento stroked your throat tenderly as your hands clasped and unclasped the arms of the chair. A painfully hard orgasm built in you, your muscles aching with the effort of carrying you to completion. Your pussy clenched around the dildo, wet and slippery, the buzz against your clit curling your toes.

As Kento squeezed the sides of your throat, feeling his cock moving smoothly inside it, your breath caught and you bucked, spasming violently as your orgasm surged through you. Your lips gasped open, lights flashing in your eyes, and you cried out silently as Kento pressed into you, squeezing your throat with a raggedy groan, sweat dripping to his collar with the effort of delaying his own orgasm.

Pulling out of you, gripping his cock at the base as pleasure threatened to rip through him, Kento stepped back, panting, to enjoy the show. Now carried into wild overstimulation past your orgasm, you twitched and juddered-- "I can't, s'too much-- Kento please please please--" -- and Kento hissed his restraint, cracking his neck from side to side as he almost came in his hand. He refused to waste his seed like that, never letting on how thrilling he found it to cum inside you, wondering at the glorious image of your belly, swollen with him.

Another orgasm ripped through you and you humped the dildo with fervour, thighs desperate to clamp closed around it, head tossed back and sobbing with overwhelming, uncontrollable ecstasy.

Kento's eyes bored through you, smug and drunk on dominating you. His hand pumped along his wet length, continuing to edge himself to the sight of you. He left you this way for a few more minutes, shaking and desperate, pussy soaking wet and clenching on the chair; he swallowed thickly as you shuddered and mewled, unable to tell where one orgasm ended and another began.

"Have you had enough yet?" Kento sneered, continuing to pump his throbbing length, grasping your chin and jaw harshly in his big hand. He squashed your cheeks together like this, your wet lips plush and cutely pouted; with a surge of cute-aggression, he gave your cheeks a shake and gentle slap, smirking down at your squished, tear-stained face. He planted a hard, nipping kiss to your squashed lips, moaning against you, and laughing heartily as you shook your head urgently in response to his question.

"Is this what you want?" Kento hummed against your jaw, and you continued to nod frantically, sniffling, weeping, mascara streaking down your cheeks, lipstick smeared to the side, your glossy eyes needy and begging.

"Then ask nicely," he growled, cock weeping with anticipation for you to beg for him. You continued shaking your head, sniffling and babbling nonsense, no longer able to string a sentence together as electricity rattled every nerve and fibre of you, mewling again as Kento gripped your hair, tipping your head back to look at him.

"Then you get nothing," Kento snapped, glaring down as you as his pace increased on his cock, his hand squeezing and twisting at the top. He tilted your head thoughtfully from side to side, examining you;

"Where do you want me to cum?" He panted, his impending orgasm threatening ruin after edging himself for so long, "Your tits? Your mouth? Your pussy's already so wet, after all." You cried out in disdain, clenching pussy neglected, desperate to feel Kento inside you. Kento laughed richly again, verging on cruel.

"Come on, my love," he crooned, suddenly soft and loving, giving you whiplash, "beg."

Desperate, you forced the words out, shaking like a leaf; "Please Kento-- you promised you would-- I helped you--" You jumped, as Kento reached down between your legs, pulling the dildo out, the sudden loss of stimulation and exhaustion making you feel heavy and loose, still whirring as alcohol bounded through you.

"You are right, of course," he cooed, stroking tears off your messy cheeks, "I was only playing with you." You sobbed an appalled, indignant sound as Kento grinned down at you again, wicked and hungry. Making quick work with clever fingers, he completely released you from the chair, throwing your ankle ties over his shoulder, but keeping the wrist ties attached to you, he helped you to stand, like a baby deer on wobbling legs, offering you one sincere, brisk smile.

You felt like you were falling through space as Kento lobbed you face down onto the bed, flat on your belly, with Kento kneeling over you and undoing his belt as he chased you up to the headboard. As your hands grasped above the pillows to pull yourself up, Kento's hand pressed the back of your head so you were face down, muffled against the pillows.

"Stay down," he growled, and you sniffled, obedient as he stretched your arms out, tying them to the headboard, then tied your knees together so your pussy was clamped, tight and wet between the soft fat of your thighs. You lay prone, arched upwards by your outstretched arms, bound.

You quivered as you heard the clinking of Kento's belt, and you felt his throbbing cockhead brush against the arousal-soaked plush of your clamped thighs. Kento was flush to you as he whispered in your ear; "Is this what you wanted? Out of control, fucked, pathetic and wet for me on our bed?" You nodded, dumbly overstimulated, eager for more, to be fucked so hard that you couldn't remember your own name.

Kento hummed, groaning with shaking relief as he slipped between your thighs, gripped by your hot, wet plush. You felt Kento slowly fuck your thighs, jolting as the length of him stroked between your folds, catching your bruisingly overstimulated clit. Kento sighed, biting the back of your shoulder, lost in your wiggles and the press of your curvy arse against his hips. He reached up, gripping his fingers into your bum, placing a single harsh slap there as you cried out, before rubbing the area with soothing hushes.

"Just fuck me already Ken--" You cut off with a strangled gasp; Kento's last fibre of restraint snapped and he rammed his cock into your clenched pussy, bottoming out in an instant, slamming against your spongy deep walls. Leaning on his thick forearms he hammered into you with total abandon, tired of denying you, eyelids heavy and teeth sunk into the back of your neck. Divine ecstasy ravaged through him like wildfire.

Your muffled cries into the pillow spurred Kento on, his shirt soaked with sweat and sticking to his back as he fucked you to delirium and back again. Low, jolting grows rumbled through him in interrupted streams, his heady warm voice alternating with the strength of his thrusts. Kento's cock ached with bittersweet need, finding your wet friction so delicious, and he reached up to your bound hands, squeezing one affectionately to ground himself and you.

Kento's orgasm approached, seeping down his spine towards his cock, hot and urgent.

"My name," he growled into your ear, biting it as you whimpered, pussy fluttering weakly in bliss around him, and you mumbled. Kento punished you, hammering into you as you squealed, "Louder. My name."

"Kento," you sobbed, "Kento Kento Kento-- aaaahhhh!"

Kento came with a bark, legs failing him as he crushed your hips to the bed under his weight, splashes of hot cum spurting through your cervix, leaving Kento as drunk and intoxicated as you, ruinous pleasure tumbling through him.

He shook above you, his vision coming back to him in patches as he released his ties from your hands. Grasping your hips, he rolled you sideways with him, keeping his cock deep inside you, a glint of hope skipping through his mind, picturing you, full and round, his own captive goddess.

Humming, he nuzzled into your neck; "Too much?" He mumbled, droopy-eyed and concerned.

"More than enough, thank you," you reassured him, sated and dropping into a hazy sleep. Kento gave you a little shake.

"I'm not finished with you," he scolded, "We need to have words about your frankly dangerous behaviour in the car--"

"Custard," you cried, "custard, custard, custard--"

"-- don't try to safeword me while I'm telling you off, you absolute terror."

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Phew

2K notes · View notes

lustspren · 7 months ago

Text

P.S.T EP. 13 | Vultures ft Karina, Giselle.

length: 16k words ✦

Karina, Giselle & Male Reader

genres: footjob, titjob, anal, anal creampie, thighjob, ass eating, pussy eating, facial, hard sex, blowjob, friends competition (?, kinda daddy kink (?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The nights you spent with Jimin still had their aftereffects on you. The morning after your date with ITZY you woke up with complete certainty that she was going to be by your side, but what you found was a completely empty side of the bed. It's not like it affected you emotionally, but it was a strange feeling.

The first thing you did when you woke up was pick up your phone and write to the ITZY girls. You told them that you had a lot of fun and that you appreciated the surprise, but that you were excited to actually catch up with them. You did not receive a response at that time. In Korea it was around 10 at night, so they were probably watching a movie or taking baths. Be that as it may, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, staring at the desk chair in front of you, mentally preparing yourself for the start of the day.

After gathering enough willpower, you reluctantly got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. You took a quick shower, five minutes more than enough to freshen up. You got out of the shower and brushed your teeth. Once cleaned, you dressed without any rush: you put on a black and gold Fred Perry sweater that Ryujin had given you, some khaki shorts, and the only pair of shoes you hadn't worn until now: black strappy leather sandals. wide, fastened to the ankle by a buckle.

Being ready, you didn't bother putting on perfume. Was not necessary to. You just combed your hair so you didn't look like a bum and grabbed your things before leaving your room. You headed to Jimin's room, where she and the rest of the girls were sleeping. When you arrived at the corresponding floor, you found a pleasant surprise at the end of the hallway: Jihye was already approaching the door to open it, but stopped when she saw you walking towards her.

The smile that formed on her face was certainly something new for you, but it was priceless. She was so pretty that she dazzled you, and the tracksuit jacket rolled up made her look even more attractive. But it didn't end there: she also ran towards you with small steps to hug you around your waist. You hugged her, surrounding her head.

"Good morning! How did you sleep, honey?"

She looked up at you. You looked down, meeting that pair of pretty, round eyes.

“Good morning, boss,” you smiled back. "Oh, pretty good, actually. What about you?"

She looked at a point in nothingness as she thought about it.

"Not really good. I felt kind of weird, I don't know."

She let go of you and you let go of her, but you maintained the closeness between the two of you.

"Mmm, that sucks. I felt that way too a few days ago."

"And you fixed it?"

"I mean, yeah. I think it was just because I had a lot of thoughts flying around in my head."

Jihye nodded, perhaps realizing that this was the case for her as well.

"Well, I just hope it doesn't happen again tonight. I'm the last one who can afford to sleep badly," she sighed.

“I can keep you company if you want,” you laughed.

You had said it as a friendly joke, but Jihye tilted her head as if thinking about it.

"Would you do that?"

You frowned and leaned your ear closer to confirm if you had heard correctly.

"Huh?"

"Huh?" she repeated with a couple of quick blinks. "Uh… nothing, listen, it's best if you don't give the girls any details about last night. And definitely don't bring up the hook up thing."

You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, still turning over in your head what you thought you heard just a few seconds ago. Since she had already changed the subject, you had no choice but to let it go.

"Don't worry, everything stays between you and me," you nodded, trying to reassure her.

"Very well, thank you. Come on, let's take a look in the lion's den," she gestured toward the door.

You let her take the lead. Jihye opened the door and you both found the room dark. The only light that came in was filtered through the closed curtains, which was barely enough to see the girls. The four of them were curled up next to each other in bed, peacefully asleep like four little angels.

"Fuck, I wouldn't want to have to wake them up," Jihye whispered. "Look at them."

Taking advantage of your moment of distraction while watching the girls, Jihye pricked the back of your hand with her nails. Inevitably, you let out a grunt of complaint and stepped away with a stomp hard enough to make the girls shift on the bed.

You frowned at Jihye, rubbing the back of your hand. The girls in front of you opened their eyes to look at you, each one more upset than the other.

"Wasn't there a more subtle way to do that?" you asked in annoyance.

"Don't be whiny, it was just a little prick," Jihye replied. "Besides, it worked."

Jimin was the first to sit up, leaning on her elbows. She watched you rub your hand with a frown and then looked from her to Jihye.

"What have you done to him?" she asked.

"You wouldn't want her to have woken you up the traditional way, would you?"

Jimin sighed and shook her head, sitting up on the bed. Aeri followed her, but Minjeong and Ning remained lying down as they watched you.

"No, that's perfect. Thank you."

"Okay, now that you're awake..."

Jihye got up to turn on the light in the room, causing them all to squeal at the glare. You couldn't help but chuckle. Minjeong and Ning hid under the sheet for a few seconds before coming back into the light. Jihye didn't care in the slightest, she sat on the bottom edge of the bed to watch them. You walked over to the couch in front of the window and started looking at your phone.

"Do you have any particular plans for today?"

They looked at each other and shook their heads, then looked back at Jihye.

"Great, because I had some ideas for spending the day together, if that's okay."

They looked at each other again, but this time they nodded.

“Sure, sounds good,” nodded Jimin, who then looked at you, “Did she rip a piece of skin off your hand?”

You looked up from your phone to see her and Jihye.

"Almost."

“Crybaby,” she stuck her tongue out at you and looked at the girls. "Take your time getting ready, okay? We'll meet you in the lobby. Put on comfortable clothes."

"Don't tell me to take my time because then I'll go back to sleep," Minjeong said.

"You do that and you will stay alone in the hotel. Maximum one hour."

"But you just said..."

“I changed my mind,” Jihye stood up with an innocent smile and walked towards the door, but not before turning to look at you. "You come?"

"Sure."

You stood up and kissed all the girls on the forehead before leaving with Jihye. You two went to the hotel's coffee bar, sat down at one of the tables near the back and waited for the girls, who arrived surprisingly quickly. Everyone was already dressed and ready to start the day.

You had a quick and light breakfast, accompanied by lattes. After finishing eating, Jihye prepared to share with you the agenda that she had planned for the day: first you would go to the aquarium, then to the botanical gardens, go with you to buy souvenirs for the ITZY girls and, finally, go to a discreet bar where no one would recognize them, only if they were up for it.

"I'm excited to go to the botanical gardens," Jimin said with a little smile. "I saw some photos and it looks beautiful."

"The aquarium too!" Ning said, looking at Jimin. "I sent you some photos, did you look at them?" Jimin nodded excitedly.

"And I'll definitely need that drink if I'm going to spend the whole day with you," Aeri joked, as she drank the last of her coffee.

The general atmosphere was good, everyone was excited to go sightseeing. But unlike the others, Minjeong seemed confused. Soon she would bring some discomfort to the table.

"Why do we have to help him shop for ITZY?" She looked at Jihye. "I mean, I'm sure he'll need our help, but I don't know how that's our problem."

All her eyes were directed towards her, Jihye's in particular did not look at all happy with that comment. She leaned across the table towards her.

"Don't be ungrateful, Kim Minjeong. Hasn't he taken good care of you throughout this tour? I'm sure at this point he deserves a favor or two from you."

Jihye's tone was stern and threatening. Aeri couldn't help but laugh at Minjeong's puppy face as she was scolded.

"Noze's right, you're being a bitch, Minjeongie. I'm more than happy to help. Plus, it's the perfect opportunity for me to shop too."

Jimin also took Jihye's side. She looked at Minjeong with obvious annoyance on her face.

"You're going whether you like it or not, girl. He deserves it."

Ning also jumped to your defense.

"Yeah, be grateful!"

Minjeong sank into her seat, crossing her arms and frowning. You, meanwhile, felt like a child caught in the crossfire of the argument between divorcing parents. However, you appreciated the way everyone took that stance. You didn't think Minjeong said that with bad intentions. Deep down, you knew she was just as good a person as the other three, but she was without a doubt an expert at being a spoiled brat.

When you were all ready you got up from the table and got ready to leave. Jihye still had the man who brought them from the bar the night before, who was in charge of taking them to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. Before getting out of the car, Jihye recommended that everyone put on masks and caps to hide their identity. In your case it was not necessary, but you agreed so that they would not feel uncomfortable.

As soon as you entered the gardens, Jimin linked her arm with yours and pressed herself against you.

"You’re coming with me, champ. We have a date pending."

This is how the small groups were formed. Minjeong made sure to leave with Ning for fear of being left alone with Jihye, who was paired up with Aeri. At first the six of you walked together, but soon you went your separate ways as you all wanted to see different things.

You had an amazing time with Jimin. For most of the walk all you did was take pictures and laugh like a couple of nuts. You didn't talk about anything interesting or momentous at all, you just made very stupid and childish jokes. Anyone who saw you saw a couple of immature, but happy teenagers.

After about two hours, you all met again at the entrance to the gardens. You shared the things you had seen and the photos you had taken, and set off towards the aquarium. As soon as you arrived, Ning was the one who pulled you next to her.

"Hello there, baby. You have some time for me, don't you?" she asked, taking your hand.

Your fingers intertwined with hers. She snuggled against your arm as you walked inside. You rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb.

"I always have time for you, sweetheart."

You took off your cap for a second just to kiss her cheek. Then you went into the aquarium, or rather, you got lost, because it was so huge and with so many places to go that you ended up alone. You looked at all kinds of marine animals and attractions; Ning looked adorable every time you passed by a new place and had the chance to see some of her favorite animals. You took photographs of her in each spot, but your favorites were the ones you took of her with a beluga, the sea otters, and at the sea lion show.

You were having the most pleasant and romantic time with her. However, when you visited the sea predators attraction, you saw fit to bring up the topic of the previous night. The few people in the place and the dim lighting created an intimate atmosphere that seemed perfect for talking.

"Hey, uh... I'm sorry about what you found when you came into the room last night," you said, as you watched a hammerhead shark swim past a school of fish.

She turned to look at you.

"Huh? Don't worry about it, darling. I enjoyed it too," she nodded.

"I know you did, but I still feel sorry," you sighed.

"I already said it's okay, silly. Stop apologizing," she rubbed your arm up and down, "I just hope that one day you become as committed to us as you are to them, you guys have a really cool relationship."

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated in your pocket with several notifications. You took it out to see them. There were multiple messages from Chaery. She was asking you if you had enjoyed her performance last night. You responded quickly, but soon found yourself involved in an exchange of sweet messages. Once you were done, you put the phone away and looked at Ning embarrassedly.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I got distracted."

Ning took a moment to respond. She looked at you and then at the sharks through the glass, balancing on her ankles. Finally, she looked down at the ground.

“Honey…” she murmured, then looked up like you did when you put the phone away. "What's the history between you and Chaeryeong? Are you dating?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You remained silent as you pursed your lips. You knew that question would come sooner or later, but you never prepared for it. You were afraid of what you might say, but you were more afraid of how she was going to react. You took a deep breath.

“It’s… complicated,” you breathed out. "We act like a couple, but you know... our respective jobs and the current situation prevent us from using terms like 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend'. But I'm obviously more attached to her than the rest of the girls."

She nodded slowly, avoiding your gaze. She looked down again and hesitated before asking the next question.

"Do you… do you think you have any time for me in your life when we get back?"

Ning always found a way to melt your heart, this was no exception. You wanted to take off her mask and kiss her, but since that would cause discomfort to the people around you, you limited yourself to surrounding her with your arms and cuddling her against your chest.

"I'll do my best to make it work, darling. We'll find a way together, I'm positive about it," you assured in her ear.

You snuggled her tightly in your arms. She hugged you back. Then you both stood in silence as you watched the school of fish swim peacefully around one of the deadliest predators in the ocean. Of course, they, small and defenseless, swam without any worries, oblivious to the danger that threatened them. You ignored the fact that you were the school of fish.

------------------------------------

After visiting the aquarium, the next goal was to find a good place to have lunch before shopping. You didn't have to go too far, as just a few blocks away there was a nice pizzeria that looked amazing. You walked in and Jihye stayed at the register to order while you settled at a table near the wall. Ning and Jimin sat on either side of you, while Minjeong and Aeri were on the other side of the table, with the seat reserved for Jihye.

"Alright, if we're going to do this we have to do it right," Jimin said next to you, "What kind of things do you think the ITZY girls would like?"

Not even three months in advance could have prepared you for that question. You had been thinking about it for weeks and never came to a conclusion, despite knowing each of them well. But that's how giving gifts was, it didn't matter if it was to your best friend, what to give them was always a stressful task.

"Uh... I mean..." you brought your hand to the back of your neck.

"He has no idea," Minjeong said, looking at her phone.

They all looked at you. You shrugged.

"Honey, you'll have to do better than just getting them generic clothes," Aeri said.

Ning nodded and turned to look at you.

"It has to be something unique, something meaningful that they can't get at home."

A very, very bad joke came to your mind. But you kept it to yourself so you wouldn't look like an idiot in front of Aeri. At that moment Jihye arrived with the bill in hand and sat next to Ning.

"Well, you could give them tour merchandise. You wouldn't even have to pay for it," she said.

You shook your head.

"Definitely not."

"Look, I know Yeji unnie very well. I can help you with her," Jimin said.

"I'll take Yuna," Minjeong said.

You couldn't help but let out a low laugh.

"Between spoiled brats you understand each other very well, that makes sense."

Minjeong just gave you the middle finger.

"Mmm, I'll help you with Chaery," Ning said from beside you.

You saw it more than perfect. But you were screwed since Lia and Ryujin were still missing. Luckily you had a Japanese guardian angel in front of you.

"Who's left, Julia and Ryujinie, right?" Aeri asked.

“Aha,” you nodded.

"Leave them to me."

"Fuck, thank you all," you sighed, "I'm really bad at this stuff."

"Yeah, it shows," Minjeong said.

You didn't have a witty response to that, she was just right. You had no choice but to stay silent.

"Don't be grateful," Jimin said, "It's nothing you wouldn't do for us."

She nudged you with her shoulder to encourage you, you just smiled weakly, staring into a salt shaker.

The two large pizzas arrived within minutes. Your stomachs had been growling for half an hour, so the slices disappeared in the blink of an eye. After finishing the meal, they took a short break to rest and headed towards their next destination. By then, it was already 4 in the afternoon.

Buying gifts was the most exhausting, stressful and tedious task of the entire day. You were grateful that you had five more heads with which to share the anguish, because if it had been up to you alone, you would have lost your mind with just the first gift. It didn't take long for Jimin to find something for Yeji, as did Ning with Chaery. Minjeong, despite seeming indifferent and rather annoyed at the idea of helping you, took a lot of time and effort to find something that she knew Yuna would love. You wanted to tease her, but you were afraid that if you made her angry, she would take a taxi and go back to the hotel. Yeji's gift was a pocket edition of Pride and Prejudice. Yuna's was Giorgio Armani's Sì perfume. And Chaery's was a beautiful handmade bracelet made with precious stones, mainly amethysts and rubies.

You, Aeri and Jihye dedicated yourself to finding things for Lia and Ryujin. It was the most complicated of all, but Aeri took the lead at all times and moved from here to there next to you, checking out clothing, accessories, and music stores. Finally, after hours of searching, they found the two perfect gifts: a vintage dress for Lia and a vinyl record of her favorite band for Ryujin. Aeri assured you that they would love them and damn, she was honestly completely right.

After having paid everything you met outside the shopping center.

"Hey, you're all up for the bar, aren't you?" Jihye asked.

"Fuck, of course I do. Let's go," Aeri said. The poor thing had grown gray thanks to her stress.

The driver took you to the bar that Jihye had previously mentioned, which turned out to be, no less, the same bar that you and her had gone to the night before. This time the same bartender from yesterday was not there. In her place was a young woman with tattoos and pink hair. The six of you settled at the bar quickly, ordering beers and cocktails. Jihye sat on your left and Ning sat on your right.

The music played at a moderate volume and the dim lighting created a cozy atmosphere. You laughed, talked, and enjoyed each other's company. It was the perfect way to end a long and intense day. Maybe the accumulated stress took too much of a toll on you, because the drinks started flowing and you all got drunk too quickly.

The hours flew by, and when you least expected it, it was already close to midnight. By then, you and the girls were already dumber than normal. It didn't affect you in a negative way, you were just more sleepy and immersed in your thoughts. Ning was much more affectionate and clingy towards you. Jimin, Aeri and Jihye sounded like a group of chatterboxes, talking non-stop and laughing out loud. Minjeong, for her part, just drank more and more, in complete silence.

"By the way, who will be next to have services from him?" Jimin asked.

You sighed, knowing the argument that was coming. You mentally prepared yourself. The entire debate was going to be solely between Jimin and Aeri, since Ning, being the lady that she was, stayed away from arguing about things like that. Jihye remained attentive, watching the development of the situation with interest, ready to intervene if necessary. And you were sure Minjeong didn't even know what was going on, absorbed in her own world, staring into her drink.

"I mean, I'm the leader," Jimin continued, "It would be fair if I had another round with him."

"Huh? What the fuck are you talking about girl?" Aeri jumped in, mixing Korean with English, "Do you know how long I have without fulfilling my needs? Hell nah, there's no way."

Sharp pangs drilled into your head. You rested your forehead on your hand, staring at the bar as you took a deep breath. Ning next to you gave you comforting kisses on your temple, oblivious to what was happening a few seats further to the left.

"And what about my turn?" Jihye asked, "When is it my turn?"

The discussion ended suddenly. All eyes, like a magnet, were directed towards her, including Minjeong's, who was observing her with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. A few long seconds of silence took over the place, while Jihye ignored the reason why everyone was looking at her in unison.

"What?" she asked.

"Hey but…" Minjeong murmured, "I was sure you'd already taken your turn on the night the three of us spent together."

"Kim Minjeong!" you said, "Oh my god..." you crossed your arms over the bar and hid your face in them.

Jihye didn't seem much less embarrassed than you. Her cheeks turned red and she couldn't say a word. It was evident that it had been a mistake to get into the argument, but the alcohol had undoubtedly prevented her from thinking about the consequences of her words. An awkward silence took over the air as she struggled to find the right words to break the tension.

"What happened that night?" Ning asked immediately.

Great, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Yeah, what is Minjeongie talking about?" Jimin said.

Minjeongie, for her part, didn't seem aware of having asked an awkward question. In her mind, surely, it was a very normal and obvious question. She didn't notice the blush that stained Jihye's cheeks, who let out some silly babbling before formulating a response.

"I definitely need more alcohol to tell you that story, I'm sorry," she said.

“The three of us…” Minjeong started.

"Shhh!" Jihye shut her up immediately, "Shut your big mouth, Kim Minjeong, or I'll leave you without breakfast for the rest of the tour!"

"But why can't she say anything!" Aeri protested.

"Because it's something private and I decide so, Uchinaga."

Aeri rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, fine."

The night came to an end with unexpected suddenness. You, sincerely, were grateful, because the headache was tormenting you and you urgently needed to take a pill. Jihye called the driver one last time and, when he arrived, you all got into the car in an ostentatious manner, like a bunch of drunk clowns. You headed to the hotel.

The journey to the hotel seemed eternal, every minute became torture while the headache blurred your vision. Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of the majestic building. You went down on wobbly legs, eager to get to your rooms and rest. Neither was in a position to take care of the other, so the girls had to fend for themselves when exiting the elevator.

Once all the girls were out of the elevator you were left alone with Jihye, once again. Only then you did realize how drunk she really was.

Upon reaching your floor, she leaned against the open elevator doors to look you up and down. Her face reddened by alcohol and her big, somewhat glassy eyes formed a perhaps too sexy expression. An aura of sensuality surrounded her, making her beauty intensify even more.

"Would you like to keep me company, pretty boy?" she asked, "I'd rather not sleep alone tonight."

You stood there stunned, still leaning against the back wall of the elevator. You looked her up and down, focusing mostly on her pale, sexy bare legs. It was too tempting, the softness of her skin seemed to call to you, but you knew it was a barrier you shouldn't cross like that. A moral commitment prevented you from succumbing to temptation. It wasn't correct.

"Sorry, boss. I have to decline your offer this time, you're drunk," you said.

To your surprise, she took a stride towards you and grabbed you by the collar of your sweater to pull you towards her. Your faces and your bodies were perhaps too close to each other. That distance allowed you to smell her aroma, a mix between alcohol and hazelnut. You looked at her lips, full and slightly parted, and then at her eyes fixed on you.

"You know? There's honesty behind it... I would have made the same proposal to you sober," she murmured just inches from your lips, "But great, you still pass my tests."

She let go of you with a little push and turned around, turning right to head straight to her room. You almost stayed inside the elevator, you had to put your hand between the doors to make them open again and be able to get out. You watched her walk down the hallway for a few seconds, mesmerized by how attractive she was, before heading to your room.

Normally you would have taken a hot bath and performed a much more meticulous ritual before going to sleep. But at that point, the headache was unbearable. You just took off your sandals and shorts, and then looked in a small toiletry bag inside your suitcase for some pain pills. After swallowing one with a glass of cold water, you also took off your sweater, turned off the lights, turned on the air conditioning and got into the cozy bed. The only thing you could think about before falling asleep was the stupid, unstoppable and uncontrollable desire you had to kiss Noh Jihye.

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The next day was, finally, the day of the concert.

There really wasn't much time to interact with the girls. Jihye had sent you to the venue first to help with the sound arrangements. In fact, she had you working with the sound engineer all day, even during the concert, something you enjoyed as a little kid being able to be a part of something that big.

At the end of the concert, Jihye tells you and the girls that they would be flying to Washington DC that same night. Everyone complains, arguing that they are exhausted, but there is no other option, since the flight is already scheduled and the agenda cannot be modified.

The really stressful and exhausting part of the day came when you were heading to the airport. In the van, you received a message from someone you until now considered missing: Kim Sunwoo, your former coworker. Yesterday's headache came back instantly as you read the messages.

You had a small moment of panic. Your heart began to pound and your breathing became rapid and unsteady, and you did your best to hide your emotional state from the girls. Despite the anxiety attack, you took the time to thank those two.

As was proper, you immediately went with the news to Jihye, who didn't seem as worried as you were.

"Well... this is certainly a problem," she nodded, "But there's no use worrying about it right now, honey, let's discuss this on the plane."

Jihye took advantage of the fact that the girls weren't looking to give you a quick, light caress on your chin with her fingers. She then told you to rest a little while you arrived. You looked at her for a few seconds, but finally gave in and tried to relax in your seat.

The bustle of the airport was a distant hum in your ears. The girls began their usual round of complaints about how sore they were and how terrible it was to have to travel immediately after a show. Aeri made a joke at your expense, but you weren't on that existential plane. Your head was somewhere else, still on Sunwoo's messages. Seeing that you didn't react, Jimin immediately noticed that something was wrong with you.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, taking your wrist gently.

You didn't want to worry her or the rest of the girls. You had no choice but to lie.

"Hm? Oh, nothing, I'm just tired and I zoomed out," you said with a weak reassuring smile.

You could see in Jimin's eyes that she knew you were lying. She knew you better than the rest of the girls. It was clear that she understood your behavior patterns, and one of them was not ‘zooming out’ when you were tired. However, not wanting to pressure you about it, she just let it go.

On the way to check-in, all the emotions attacked you like a pack of hungry wolves. A new anxiety attack left you breathless, and your mind became a battlefield of thoughts and possibilities. Panic took over you, and for a moment you seriously considered buying a ticket home. It was the most sensible thing to do, the most responsible thing to do, or so you thought. A vulture was hovering over you, and you didn't want to put the four girls you cared about at risk just because of you.

You were after all of them. Taking advantage of the girls' distraction, you slipped away and approached one of the receptionists, who was behind a counter. Just when you were about to ask for a ticket to Seoul, someone grabbed your forearm with all their might. You turned around, startled, and met Jihye's furious gaze.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she asked.

"Jihye, I can't be responsible for these girls getting into trouble because of me," you sputtered, breathing heavily, "I wouldn't forgive myself."

Jihye let go of your forearm and grabbed your hand a little too tightly.

"Honey, I respect that and appreciate it, but that would be a fucking stupid move," she took a step forward and spoke very close to you, "You are listed as part of the staff, you have an official role. If this reporter is already digging in this whole situation, the only thing you would achieve by mysteriously flying back in the middle of the tour is to raise more suspicions."

It was impossible to argue with that logic. Jihye was absolutely right. However you prepared to blurt out an stupid clumsy argument back, but before you could, she wrapped you in a warm, comforting hug. In that instant, all the emotions hammering in your head stopped.

"Calm down, please..." she said against your chest, "We're a team now. We'll find a way out of this, okay? But just don't make a stupid decision."

"I... you're right, I'm sorry."

She broke the hug and grabbed you by the forearms. Then, she did something that took you completely by surprise. She stood on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. An unexpected stupid tingle ran through your stomach, and your cheeks lit up with a blush you couldn't control.

"Besides, you can't leave without keeping your promise first, remember?" she raised an eyebrow with a little smile.

You couldn't help but laugh, trying to lower the color in your cheeks with a discreet flutter of your hands.

"I know, I know. I'm not going to break my promise, boss. And hey, thanks, really."

You took a deep breath, maybe your first in fifteen minutes. The surge of adrenaline began to dissipate, and your mind slowly became clearer. Finally, you could think with a cool head. You recognized, with a mixture of shame and relief, that you were about to do something very stupid.

"You'll thank me later," she winked at you, "But we have to get going, we're late for boarding."

She took your hand and led you to the line. You went straight to the jet, which when you arrived the girls were already inside, settled and ready for takeoff. Of course the first one worried about you was Jimin.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

"I had some cramps and had to go to the bathroom urgently," Jihye said. "He accompanied me so I wouldn't be alone."

Jimin nodded understandingly, too slowly to make you and Jihye believe that she had been satisfied with that answer.

"Sure," she simply said.

"Well, he and I have some logistical issues to discuss about DC," Jihye said as you walked through the cabin, "There were problems with some contractors who helped with the stage set up, sooooo it's best you leave us alone!"

Ning was already fast asleep, with her head resting on the plane window. Minjeong and Aeri were lost in their own worlds, with headphones in their ears and staring blankly at their screens. You weren't sure if they had really heard Jihye's words. Jimin, on the other hand, was visibly uneasy in her seat. She watched you suspiciously as you walked, with Jihye, towards the rear cabin.

Upon entering, Jihye settled into one of the seats on the left that faced you, in front of a table with rounded corners and chrome edges that made the fine wood stand out. You closed the cabin hatch behind you with a silent click and went to sit on a double seat on the right side, a small countertop to your right with a smooth surface.

“Alright, let me see,” Jihye said, asking for your phone to see the messages.

You took your phone out of your pocket and opened the chat with Sunwoo. Then, you handed it to Jihye, who took her time to read each message carefully. Finally, she returned it to you with a serious expression on her face.

"It has to be the bastard who took the photo of you and Ning, or at least someone who works for him," she said, taking her laptop out of her backpack to open it on the table.

You nodded, thoughtful. You placed the phone in your lap and clasped your hands under your chin, elbows resting on your thighs. Jihye began typing furiously, sending one email after another. You sighed hopefully, thinking that nothing bad could come from a woman so focused on her mission. You were in good hands, at least.

"What will we do?" you asked, feeling like you were asking Spider-Man for reassuring words.

Jihye didn't take her eyes off the screen, she just continued typing.

"The first thing to do is find out how much this guy knows," she said. "You know, what his intentions are and what the hell he wants. That way we can know if we should act by hook or by crook."

"You won't dissolve him in a pool of acid, will you?"

She looked away from the screen and looked at you like you were born stupid.

"What? Of course not, dumbass," she looked back at the laptop. "I mean we can create a smokescreen about it, or use our influence."

You sighed.

"Anything to keep the girls safe, to be honest."

At that precise moment, the cabin hatch burst open, breaking into the atmosphere of concentration. Looking up, both you and Jihye were met with Jimin's glare as she crossed her arms and took a firm stance as she entered.

"What do we have to be safe from, Noh Jihye?" she demanded to know, closing the hatch behind her, "Is this why you and him were so late?"

“Jimin…” you said.

"Is that why you were so strange when we arrived at the airport?" she interrupted you, perhaps raising her voice a little too much.

"Jiminie, you have to calm down, we..." Jihye started to say.

"I'm the damn leader of the group! If something is happening I fucking deserve to know about it!"

You and Jihye looked at each other for a moment.

"You're right, we're sorry," Jihye agreed, "But the situation isn't mine, I'm not the one to explain it."

Their gazes landed on you in an instant. You sat up in your seat, straightening your posture, and looked at Jimin with a bit of embarrassment. You took a short breath, gathering the courage to tell her everything. As you told your story, Jimin's face softened, going from initial fury to slight sadness. When you finished, she stood in front of you and wrapped you in a warm, comforting hug. Your face pressed against her abdomen, feeling the same warmth and security as in Jihye's embrace a few hours before.

"You... aren't mad at me?" you ventured.

Jimin grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from her to look into your eyes.

"Mad? How can I be? Dude, I'm just worried about you."

She sat next to you and hugged you with both arms, her cheek resting on your shoulder.

"But don't hide anything from me again unless you want a real fight."

"We didn't want to worry you," Jihye said. "I'm sure you have more important things to think about."

"Nonsense," Jimin snapped. "This directly affects us all, it is my duty."

"As you wish, then," Jihye relented. "But it's time to make a plan."

"I promise to make sure the girls won't say anything that raises suspicion, not even around the staff."

"Don't you think that will make them suspicious?" you asked.

"They will believe it is to prevent something from happening. They will not know that something has already happened."

"Very well then," you nodded.

"I will talk to my connections at JYP so that they are aware of the situation and are prepared to handle it," Jihye said, finally closing the laptop. "I will also question the staff as discreetly as possible to see if anyone knows your true role."

"What if someone knows?"

"I'll make them keep their big mouths shut," she said as if it were obvious. "As I was saying, I will also contact a private detective to investigate this guy based on the number you got from him that night."

Jimin lifted her head from your shoulder and frowned.

"Night? What night?"

You sighed. Another thing that she didn't know and that you should directly explain to her. You took the trouble and patience to explain her story to her in great detail. As you did so you realized how much you really hated this guy and how much he deserved a beating from you. Jimin by that point she was just as upset as you.

"What a son of a bitch, god," she grumbled.

"Yeah, that's how sick some people are," Jihye said.

"Anyway. I'll let the ITZY girls know about it so they're aware," you said. "I will also try to contact the spa to see if they can provide me with security camera footage."

Jihye raised her eyebrows.

"Can they give you that?" she asked. "That would be a great help."

"Normally they don't give camera footage to anyone, but this is an exceptional occasion. They will understand."

"I will send you an email address, you can send the footage there if you receive it."

"For the detective?"

She looked at you again as if you were stupid from birth.

"Well, of course, what are you going to do with a 24-hour camera shoot?"

You thought about it for a moment, realizing that she was right. You relented with a shrug.

"Shouldn't you also contact your previous clients?" Jimin said.

"Yeah, right," you nodded. "The problem is that there aren't a few of them, damn it," you sighed.

"You should only inform the most famous one," Jihye said. "I don't even have to tell you who."

You nodded and crossed your arms. Your mind immediately went to Seulgi. You hadn't spoken to her for a few months, and you definitely didn't like the fact that you were resuming relations over that matter.

"Anyway," she continued, "Try to relax, it won't be too long until we get to D.C."

"Can I stay here with you?" Jimin asked.

"Sure," Jihye nodded. "It's not like I can get you out anyway. It's not my private cabin as much as I would love to."

Jimin kicked off her shoes in one swift movement and let them fall to the floor with a soft thud. Then, she raised her legs over yours and snuggled against your body. You put your arm around her. You both tried to close your eyes and relax, leaving Jihye engrossed in reading a book.

----------------------------------

Upon landing in Washington D.C all plans were put into motion, everything happening on the way to the Conrad, the next hotel where you would stay.

You contacted Seulgi with an admittedly uncomfortable call, but it fulfilled your objective. She hadn't asked many questions about it, as expected she asked you what the hell you were up to, but you were honest with her and explained it the best you could. She understood it, or at least she pretended to. In the end she told you that she would spread the word among the girls to be careful.

By the time you arrived at the hotel all your energy was drained. You had been able to sleep a little with Jimin, but it was one of those naps that only exhausted you more, as strange as it seemed.

"Don't even think about leaving the hotel," Jihye said when you were all gathered in the lobby. "The concert is tomorrow and I need you all to rest. So you are prohibited from going out."

"Yes, please behave," Jimin said from beside her. She looked at all the girls as if making them remember what she had talked to them about.

After checking in, everyone quickly dispersed to their respective rooms. Once again, your floor matched Jihye's. You met in the hallway, walking side by side in search of your doors. You stopped in front of yours.

"Honey, get some sleep, please," she said standing in front of you. "This is not the first time something like this has happened in the industry, there are solutions."

"I know..." you sighed. "It's just that, damn, I really care about these girls. Just thinking that they're at risk because of me makes me feel terrible."

Jihye placed her suitcase next to her and stepped forward to cup your face in her hands. Her soft touch made you melt between her fingers.

"For the love of God, stop saying this is your fault," she said. "It's not your fault that a scumbag sneaked in where he shouldn't have."

You tried to protest, but she tightened her grip on your face to keep you quiet.

"We'll get through it," she whispered, "I promise."

You were silent as you looked at her, once again, at her pretty lips. And you made a great effort to contain yourself, once again. She finally let go of you, gave you one last look and grabbed her suitcase to leave about 5 doors later. You sighed deeply and walked into your room.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a short, narrow wooden hallway that led to the main room. The floor was covered with a soft gray carpet and the walls were a pristine shade of white. To your left, a king size bed, too big for you, but you weren't going to refuse. On the right, a small nightstand and, in the corner, a curved sofa with a lamp behind it and a small round table in front. On the opposite side of the room, after the bathroom door, a long low counter that housed a television and a large mirror. The room was completed with a larger circular table with a single chair and a big window that overlooked the street.

After unpacking and setting up some of your things, you closed the window curtains to turn on the air conditioning. The heat of the day was stifling and a good power nap was what you craved most. You took off your shoes and sat on the right edge of the bed, letting out a contented sigh. At that moment, your phone vibrated. A message from Jimin.

With a smile on your lips, you replied to Jimin's message. Then, you tossed the phone to the side of the bed and got up to turn off the light. The room was plunged into darkness, only illuminated by the faint glow of the city filtering through the windows. You went back to bed and got under the blanket, feeling the warmth and comfort of the mattress. Closing your eyes, you let fatigue overcome you and within a few minutes you fell into a deep sleep.

---------------------------

You woke up around 9 pm. Much more than you had planned, but damn it was worth it. You felt like a new and renewed man; of course, ignoring the fact that you were facing one of the most stressful situations you have ever experienced in your entire life.

When you got out of bed, the first thing you did was stick to your promise and you wrote to Jimin again, letting her know that you had already woken up and asking what the plan was. Waiting for her response, you went directly to the bathroom and got into the shower.

Barely five minutes had passed since you had gotten under the shower when the knocking on the door started. You had no doubt who they were. They, the girls, were not going to give up so easily. You wouldn't give them the pleasure of interrupting you, but they couldn't wait for you to finish either. The blows intensified, and they pierced your ears very quickly.

Reluctantly you turned off the water and got out of the shower. You dried yourself quickly and wrapped the towel around your body to go open them. You looked through the fisheye, and after confirming that it was them, you opened the door.

Both girls were wearing simple outfits, similar to what they would wear to sleep. Jimin was wearing a white crop top—which ironically said 'Send Nudes'— that exposed her midriff and red sports shorts. Aeri, for her part, was wearing a black sweater and pink velvet sweatpants. They both wore Crocs. Their faces lit up when they looked at you, and above all, when they looked at you half naked. What you noticed was that they were somewhat blushing, which immediately led you to think that they must have been drinking a little.

"Oh, we're at a good time it seems," Jimin said. She and Aeri let out a giggle.

Without even inviting them, they snuck under your arm and invaded your room. As Aeri passed by, she grabbed the knot of your towel and pulled it hard, taking it off you in one motion. You hurried to close the door.

"That's better," she said, walking past you.

You followed them. When you crossed the hallway you saw Jimin already settled in your bed, lying on her side and leaning on her elbow. Aeri went to sit on the chair next to the table.

"May I know what's going on and why I'm naked?" you asked, "I didn't think this would be the plan."

"Gigi and I are back on the menu, cutie," Jimin said between tipsy giggles, "You could use some stress relief."

"Oh, and we have a debate that you could be the perfect judge of," Aeri added.

You sighed, picked up your towel from the floor and put it back on. Then you went to your suitcase.

"And what could that debate be?" you asked, putting on underwear and some sports shorts.

"Which is better?" They both said in unison, like a previously rehearsed routine.

"Tits?" Jimin said.

"Or ass," Aeri said.

"Well, this is going to be a long night..." you muttered to yourself, going to sit on the couch in the corner. "And how did that mystery arise, may I know?"

The two of them looked at each other, neither could find an answer.

"I figured it," you nodded.

"But answer!" Jimin demanded, “You have to have a preference, right?”

"Well I don't have it, Rina," you leaned back on the couch and crossed your arms, "I'll need you to present your cases to me."

Jimin giggled and looked at Aeri.

"I knew he would say that," she said.

"But before you start mouthing profanities," you reached over to grab your phone from the nightstand. "I'll order food. I haven't eaten all day and you could use some time to formulate your answers."

They nodded and began to write in the notes app on their phones. You focused on ordering the food: two chicken sandwiches, a large portion of fries, and a can of white monster—for some reason, it was one of the drink options. When your order arrived, you put on a t-shirt and went to pick it up at the door. Upon returning, you settled back on the couch and placed the bag on the small round table in front of you. The aroma of fried food made your stomach growl.

"Okay," you said, taking out everything in the bag and then putting it down. "Present your cases. I don't care who goes first."

You opened the wrapper of one of your sandwiches and without hesitation you took a big bite. You couldn't help but moan at how delicious it was. At that moment Aeri got up from the chair and stood a meter away from you. You gave her a few glances, but decided that only your ears would be paying attention to them, since your eyes were quite busy with her food.

"Obviously, I think ass is better than tits," she began. "A lot of our choreographies are focused on making our butts shine, in fact," she let out a giggle. "Also, as you well know, twerking has become a crucial part of pop culture. Is there anything similar with boobs? I don't think so."

You couldn't help but let out a hint of laughter while your mouth was full of fries, at the surreal way in which she spoke so seriously and with such conviction about something so banal.

"Stop, stop," you interrupted her before she moved onto her next point. "Since you're so confident with twerk, why don't you show off your skills to me and Jiminie?"

She smiled excitedly, and turned around to begin. You quickly swallowed the bite of the sandwich so you could speak.

"Oh, before you start," you interrupted her again. "I cannot formulate a good verdict without your points of defense being exposed to view. Clothes off."

Aeri giggled and looked over her shoulder at you. Jimin also stood up and stood next to her.

"You were already late asking for it," Aeri said.

She looked forward again and bent forward as she took off her sweatpants. She wasn't wearing underwear, which wasn't a surprise to you or Jimin. Her huge round ass was instantly exposed, and she stayed bent over for a few seconds so you could get a look at her pussy. She then straightened her back and proceeded to take off her sweater. You didn't see her tits at first, just her bare back.

By then you had already finished the first sandwich and you had half a can of monster. While you opened the second wrapper, Jimin seemed to forget that they were in a competition, because she played Ash-B's Booty on her phone. Perfect song for Aeri to shake her butt, ironically.

Aeri put on a really impressive show for the two of you. You should have expected such perfect and hypnotizing control of her buttocks, but she still managed to divert your attention from the food so that you focused solely on her. She danced every second of the song, from start to finish. With that you no longer needed to hear any more arguments.

She walked towards you and sat on your left thigh, turning her body to face you with a mischievous expression.

"Let's not forget when you told me how tasty my ass was after the night we spent together in San Francisco," she moved her ass from side to side over your leg. "Oh, and also how much you came inside it while you were sucking my toes."

She stood up from your thigh and finished her presentation with a simple, but quite effective, slap on her own buttock; making sure you noticed how the flesh of her ass and thighs responded with a jiggle.

Using memories and personal experiences was playing dirty. Maybe you should have clarified that before starting the 'debate', however it was too late. Aeri had already managed to make your cock hard under your boxers, but neither of them noticed since the table hid your crotch from her eyes.

"Alright, next," you turned your attention to your second sandwich. With that bite it was already halfway done.

Aeri went to lie on her side on the bed facing you. Jimin took her place in front of you, and without you asking her she began to undress. You looked up, watching as she first took off her top, revealing the black bra she was wearing underneath, which also didn't take long to fall to the floor. With her heavy, lovely tits free, she moved to her lower garments, which she lowered to her ankles with a single quick tug. Now she was also completely naked.

"Hey, it's not fair," she said. "You are still dressed and we are naked."

"I'm eating, Rina," you defended yourself. "I am unable to eat while naked."

"That sounds like a terrible excuse," Aeri said to your right.

You looked at her and put your finger in front of your lips.

"Hush, young lady. Who is the judge here?"

Aeri rolled her eyes and you turned your attention to Jimin.

"Go ahead, Miss Yoo," you nodded, returning your attention to what was missing from your sandwich.

Jimin cleared her throat and took a step forward, so you could see up close her pale tits and her seemingly freshly shaved pussy.

"I'll start by saying that there is no man or woman who can be depressed while looking at a nice pair of tits," she said. "In addition, it has been proven that boobs are much more popular in Asia, Europe and Oceania than asses."

By the time she finished speaking you had already finished the last sandwich and had wiped your mouth with a napkin. You took a drink of your monster and prepared to challenge her, but just as you opened your mouth she pushed the table away from between you, straddled your lap and grabbed you by the neck to bury your face between her tits.

"Do you remember how my cute feet got you in the hot tub?" she said in a low voice, rubbing her tits back and forth against your face. "Then you fucked this pair of heavy tits and painted my face with cum... Surely that was better than fucking Gigi's ass while you sucked on her toes, right?"

She shook her tits again and again. With your face there in the middle you were sure that tits were a better option, but of course, your face had not been between Aeri's buttocks in the same way. What a difficult decision.

Jimin got off you, and standing in front of you finished her argument by giving her tits a good squeeze. Then she went to lie down on the bed, perpendicular to Aeri. You stayed silent, staring at the empty monster can. Your cock hurt because of how hard it was, those two had played very dirty.

You sighed.

"Very well... I'd love to give you a verdict," you said, standing up to walk in front of the bottom edge of the bed. "But aside from the fact that you cheated..." you took off your t-shirt and threw it next to the girls' clothes. "I will need practical arguments to be able to decide a winner."

Aeri, who bit her lower lip, and Jimin looked at each other with a knowing smile. Then they nodded and knelt up on the bed to get closer to you. The first to crash her lips against yours was Aeri, who didn't bother to hide her enthusiasm and the desire she had to taste you after so long. Jimin wasn't patient either; she leaned down to kiss your chest and collarbone, as she did so, she pulled your shorts down along with your boxers to free your throbbing cock.

Aeri added her tongue to the kiss and clung to your neck with both arms, making it clear that she was feral at that moment. You did the same, and now your tongues were involved in a fiery fight to take control. Your hands did not stay still; you lowered your left to meet Jimin's tits, which you squeezed and massaged; the right one went straight to Aeri's ass, squeezing her right buttock and reaching down to her pussy to rub your fingers between her folds.

Jimin brought her hand to your cock and rubbed it slowly, also going down to caress your balls. But soon you felt her lips on your shaft, giving it wet kisses until she took you inside her mouth. You couldn't help but let out a moan into Aeri's mouth. You broke away from the kiss to look down, finding Jimin on her hands and knees as she sucked your cock.

"Hey, it's not fair!" Aeri protested. "I was distracted!"

She got down on her hands and knees as well, letting Jimin pump her head over the middle of your shaft for a few more seconds before elbowing her away.

"Envious bitch!" Jimin protested as well, as Aeri took more of your cock into her mouth and pumped it faster.

The next minute was about the two of them taking turns in hurried ways to suck your cock. You couldn't complain, they knew exactly what they were doing and their mouths felt incredible; besides, you had a most satisfying view: both incredible pale asses perfectly raised and a pair of smooth backs that you ran your hands over before squeezing one of their buttocks.

"Why don't you put those pretty feet to work?" you managed to say between gasps.

Aeri, who currently had your cock in her mouth, lifted her feet and moved them for you to see.

"Who do you want to go first?" She asked as she pulled you out of her, Jimin joining her in licking the back of your shaft.

“Jiminie,” you said without hesitation. "But I want to suck your feet."

"Fuck, too bad we didn't bring lube," Jimin said, before turning on the bed and lying on her back.

"It won't be necessary," Aeri replied with an arrogant smile, to acquire the same position as Jimin. "My pretty feet are going to melt him."

Aeri placed one of her feet on your abdomen and rubbed it up and down. Jimin brought both of them to your cock. With one she played with your balls, and with the other she used her toes to rub your saliva-soaked tip.

"Yours?" Jimin said, rubbing the back of your shaft with the foot she had on your balls. "Ha! As if you had his favorite feet."

Aeri now brought her foot to your face, you gladly accepted it into your mouth, sucking each toe of hers hungrily while Jimin now used both feet on either side of your cock. She moved them slowly, just like she started that day in the bathtub. Then she picked up speed. You caressed the back of their thighs, and then went up to their pussies.

"There's a reason he wants to suck my feet first, right?" Aeri replied, caressing the side of your face with her toes while you sucked on the others, "He likes mine better."

Jimin took that as a challenge and set out to move her feet even better, faster and tightening her grip on you with her toes. You moaned with Aeri's foot in your mouth, and then moved on to the next one. With the fingers of each hand of yours you now rubbed her pussies, eliciting small moans from both of them.

"Do you hear that?" Jimin said after a gasp. "My pretty feet are driving him crazy."

"He moans because my feet taste delicious," Aeri gasped.

You pulled Aeri's feet out of your mouth and looked at them, tired of their chatter.

"Shut your mouths and switch places," you ordered.

Jimin giggled and looked at Aeri.

"He doesn't want to suck your feet anymore," she said, removing her feet from your cock.

"I said shut your mouths," you had to say again before Aeri replied, "I don't want to hear any more arguing between you two."

"As you order daddy," Aeri giggled, now bringing her feet to your cock.

"I will obey only because I want to win," Jimin said, doing the same only to your face.

Aeri put care and dedication into making sure her feet felt as good as Jimin's did, which you were now sucking and licking; you distributed wet kisses too, both on the backs of her feet and on her soles. Aeri meanwhile used her soles to wrap your cock between firm flesh and silky skin, rubbing it up and down non-stop.

You liked sucking Aeri's feet more, and you liked the way Jimin used her feet on your cock more. In that field it was a technical tie, but you weren't going to give anyone the pleasure of knowing that. You let your moans speak for you, as well as the way you were now touching both of their pussies. Soon you had two fingers inside each one. They both moaned in unison.

You were approaching your peak at an accelerated pace. You moved your fingers faster in and out of both of their pussies, making them moan faster and double their efforts. Aeri moved her feet hungrily, and Jimin pressed her toes into your mouth. Cumming thanks to Aeri's efforts would have been an ego boost for her and she would have taken it as a victory, which you didn't want. You were going to take the selfish, but fair route.

“Put your feet together, come on,” you growled, feeling the tingle in your lower abdomen. “I don't want any objections.”

Jimin obeyed immediately. Aeri did so reluctantly, but she left your cock after a few seconds. They put their feet together in front of your cock, intertwining their toes with each other as they watched your cock, biting their bottom lip. You brought your hand to your cock and rubbed it repeatedly against her toes, then masturbated quickly. The unload didn't take long to come out; jets of cum shot out one after another, these fell between their feet, leaving a thick cover of thick liquid on their toes.

“Why didn't you let me drain you?” Aeri protested.

“Because it's a tie, Uchinaga,” you said between gasps.

“Huh? “What do you mean by a tie!” Jimin also complained.

“If you don't like it, I don't care. Now, clean each other’s feet,” you ordered.

Even though the two of them were in a kind of competition, they did not hesitate to accept that proposal. The first to act was Aeri, who got on her knees and grabbed Jimin by her ankles to suck on her toes, cleaning every trace of semen from there between small moans.

“Fuck, what a delight,” she said.

Jimin pushed her so she fell back against the bed again. She did the same as Aeri, grabbing her ankles to clean her without missing a single drop. When they finished they both saw you, Jimin licking his lips. They were waiting for more orders from you. You just wanted to fuck them, and you certainly wouldn't make them wait after you'd been fingering them for a couple of minutes.

“Who wants to take my cock first?” you said, sitting up on your ankles.

Clearly the question was useless, they both instantly knelt in front of you.

"I!" they said in unison.

They looked at each other with frowns.

“Why do you want everything first!” Aeri screeched.

“Because I am the leader and I have the right!” Jimin replied.

“You fucked him for two nights in a row girl!”

You sighed and put your hands on your face, shaking your head. They were doing it again.

"So what! Would you simply be satiated by his cock?”

"No bu-"

Already tired of their argument, you decided to act following only your instincts. You wrapped Aeri's fleshy body in your arms and pulled forward with her. She let out a gasp and grabbed onto your shoulders as you fell on top of her. Before Jimin could protest, you extended an arm towards her and lifted a finger. She took the cue immediately, crossing her arms.

Aeri looked into your eyes and spread her legs wide open. The tip of your cock rubbed against her wet folds.

“You couldn't hold back the desire to finally be able to fuck my pussy, huh?” she said, switching to English.

“Don't make me change my mind, Uchinaga,” you warned, and before she could respond you kissed her.

She let out a small squeal of happiness against your lips when you did so, then wrapped her arms around your neck and deepened the kiss, giving your hair little tugs as her fingers tangled in it. You left one hand resting on her mattress next to her waist, and the other you took to her thigh to lift it up, press it against your side and squeeze it. She raised her hips impatiently; she made your cock rub again and again against her wet pussy, in the end you couldn't help but give in to her temptation and gave her what she wanted. You grabbed your cock with your left hand and guided it inside her.

Aeri widened her eyes and then grimaced in pleasure.

“Oh my fucking god!” she squealed, as your cock forced its way between her folds.

Jimin giggled, lying on her side to Aeri's left to look at her.

“It feels massive, doesn't it?” she said.

“It feels massive and fucking incredible,” Aeri agreed, closing her eyes and arching her back.

The entire length of your cock was buried inside her without much trouble, and fuck, how soft and hot Aeri's pussy felt was overwhelming. You let out a growl and attacked her neck with kisses. She held onto the back of your neck with one hand, and the other was on your lower back as you began to move your hips slowly. She let out long, sensual moans each time every inch of throbbing flesh filled her to the bottom, but the way she put pressure on your lower back told you to move faster.

“Fuck that pussy with everything you got baby. Mmmgh!” Aeri moaned into your ear. “It's all fucking yours, act like it!”

It wasn't an offer you received every day, you certainly weren't going to turn it down. Your hips pumped faster now, gradually transforming that into a frantic fucking that drove Aeri crazy. You kissed her jaw and chin, then met her lips again. After kissing her for a few long seconds you straightened your back to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her moans didn't let her formulate any more words. You took her legs and raised each one to your shoulders; then you leaned forward, so that her thighs were pressed against her torso and her knees were as close to her own face as possible.

“Wow, she's more flexible than she looks,” Jimin said next to her. She slowly touched her pussy, making circles on her clitoris.

Neither you nor Aeri answered her. You were focused on hammering into her warm, plump pussy, a bead of sweat dripping down your temple despite having the air conditioning on, while Aeri was focused on not screaming too loud from being thrust so fast and deep.

She clung to the back of your neck with both hands and dug her nails there, arching her back again between intense squeals.

“Fuck, don't stop! I'm gonna cum so fucking hard on that fucking juicy piece of meat!“

You stood up again and looked down at her. You rested your hands on her thighs and kept them pressed against her torso, moving your hips up and down to keep her pinned against the mattress. It didn't take long for your cock to make her explode. Her thighs tensed and her entire body was shaken by an energetic spasm. Her toes curled up too, and to keep with tradition, you sucked on them as she rode out her orgasm.

“Blessed Jesus, you really made her cum hard,” said Jimin, who was already letting out light moans.

Aeri looked at you with weak, but clearly satisfied eyes. Her chest rose and she fell with labored breaths.

“Yeah… waiting for that cock was totally worth it,” she mused. “But damn, I want more.”

“Well then it's your turn to wait, bitch,” Jimin replied, grabbing you by her shoulders and pulling you back, making you slide out of Aeri's pussy and fall on your back. Your head almost went over the bottom edge of the bed.

You let out a tired breath and looked at her with half-closed eyes.

“Fuck, you could be a little more subtle, couldn't you?” you said.

“Nah.”

Jimin mounted you nimbly, both slender thighs on either side of your hips. She didn't hesitate to raise hers, take your cock with one hand to stand it upright and impale herself on it. Her pussy was already a frequent acquaintance for your cock, which fit perfectly inside those tight, wet walls that fascinated you so much. She let out a moan as her ass rested against your pelvis.

“I'm never going to fucking get tired of that feeling,” she gasped, resting her hands on your chest.

“What a slut,” Aeri said behind Jimin.

Jimin closed her eyes and pursed her lips between moans, as she slowly moved up and down on your cock.

“I wasn't the one who left the bottom of my swimsuit in a hotel pool,” she said without further concern. Easy and effective response to which Aeri had no reply.

You weren't really paying attention to what they were saying, at this point it was useless to keep trying to get the two of them to shut their mouths once and for all and not argue, so you just focused on enjoying their bodies.

You brought your hands to Jimin's small, soft waist; You held your fingers there for a moment, then you went to her ass, squeezed it a couple of times and then gave her right buttock a spicy spank that made her scream. Not resisting the urge to kiss her, you surrounded her body with your arms and pulled her towards you. Her lips crashed against yours automatically, and her tits crushed against your chest.

Your lips battled against each other for a few long seconds, your arms firmly clinging to her torso as they did so. She moved her ass faster, taking every inch of your cock in and out of her with skillful, sensual movements. You ran your hands along her back, feeling the creamy skin beneath your fingertips. One of your hands ended up on the back of her head, there you couldn't help but caress her long, silky hair, which covered your face on each side.

“Come on bitch, finish him,” you heard Aeri say. “I already did all the work, it should be a piece of cake.”

Expecting Jimin not to fall for easy provocations was like expecting something from a wall. Exactly, you just couldn't expect anything. Jimin took that as another challenge, and she pulled away from your lips to plant both feet on the mattress on either side of your waist.

“Look how I make him fill my pussy, Uchinaga,” said Jimin, who began to jump on your cock.

Not even in the two nights you were together did you see Jimin so enthusiastic while she was riding you. It was like she had gained new strength, like a damn illogical Dragon Ball Z power-up. All because Aeri Uchinaga didn't know how to shut her big mouth and because she didn't know how to turn a deaf ear. She was jumping so hard and with such speed that you thought she was going to split you in half. Of course this had its advantages, you couldn't complain. Her tits bounced hypnotically, up and down and even making small circles. You latched onto both immediately.

Jimin dug her nails into your chest and scratched it downwards lightly. You let out a small grunt of pain, and as 'revenge' you gave one of her tits a loud slap that reverberated throughout the room along with the sound of her ass crashing against your pelvis. She didn't care in the slightest, in fact, in her eyes you could read that she wanted you to do it again. That's how you did it, giving multiple slaps to both of her tits. You didn't stop until they were red hot.

The hot scene soon became too much to bear. Jimin continued jumping as if her life depended on it—not her life, but the damn challenge that had her so energetic—; she brought her hands to your neck out of inertia, putting pressure around it with her slender fingers. It was something she had put into practice a couple of times that night, and each time she managed to give you that little boost you needed to cum.

"Mmmgh fuck!" you growled, pushing upwards as you came.

It was always religiously true that Jimin also came from feeling your cum filling her pussy. This time was no exception. She sank back down with a loud moan to the ceiling, grinding her hips forward and back between strong spasms, as your cock shot multiple thick jets of cum into her.

You held on to her waist this time, so she would lower her knees and lean into you again. You wrapped your arms around her again and kissed her for a few long seconds, exchanging moans and labored breaths. Finally, Jimin moved off you so that your cum flowed freely from her pussy to her right thigh.

Aeri watched your cum leak through Jimin's folds and bit her lip.

"Mmm… that looks delicious," she said.

"Clean up then," you said with a nod.

Aeri didn't hesitate for a single moment to go straight to Jimin's crotch, grabbing her thighs and burying her mouth there to collect every drop of cum that came out of her pussy. Jimin, who was still somewhat sensitive, squirmed between small painful moans as she stroked Aeri's hair. When Aeri finished, they looked at you.

"Who has the better pussy, judge?" she said between gasps, grabbing her own tits.

Aeri also looked expectantly at your response.

If you had to be honest, Jimin's pussy was something magical, a thing out of this world. But for your first time inside Aeri's, you had to say that she wasn't too far from that status. You had fucked her only once, while you did it with Jimin for a whole day. In any case, you didn't want to give a winner there either.

"Another tie," you said unabashedly.

They both frowned and you almost felt like you were going to get beaten up.

"What?!" they both said in unison.

"Calm your competitive asses and let me be just an indecisive man, will you?" You raised your eyebrows.

"No, fuck my tits right now," Jimin said, kneeling up.

You raised an eyebrow.

"And what makes you think you're in charge?" you said. "I'm sorry but you'll have to wait until I want to do it."

"So what do you want to do now, daddy?" Aeri said, lying on her stomach and picking up her knee to make her ass look much more appetizing.

You'd consider that a vile trick too, but it was perfectly clean. Only you were a weak man for a good ass of that magnitude.

"Oh my god, you even call him daddy," Jimin said as if disappointed. "Who's the slut now?"

"I am, any problem?" she looked at you. "Well? Are you going to eat my ass or not, daddy?"

"I'm going to do more than fucking eat it," you said.

You lay face down and placed your head above Aeri's huge ass, which you kissed on each buttock again and again until it left with small saliva stains; then you grabbed each butt cheek with your hand and spread them to each side, exposing her butthole for you. You planted your mouth there, eating Aeri's ass like a hungry dog. You licked and kissed in every way possible, with the main goal of getting her ready for what you were both waiting for.

When you were satisfied with that ass you knelt up and turned to look at Jimin.

"Do you want to lube it up for me, honey?" you said. She had her brow furrowed and her arms crossed. She was upset. "Don't be spoiled, Rina. You'll have your turn too."

It was enough for you to bring your hand to her left cheek and rub it gently. She softened her face little by little and pressed herself against your hand. Then she complied with your order, getting on her hands and knees to be level with your cock to suck it, purposely releasing spit in the middle of the blowjob to leave your shaft slippery and ready.

"Thank you, what a good girl," Aeri said with a giggle.

Jimin frowned again.

"I didn't do it for you, whore," she said.

"Shut up," you said. They both fell silent.

You took your lubricated cock and rode Aeri's ass, bracing your thighs on either side of her hips to rub your tip between her buttocks. She looked at you over her shoulder and looked down, grabbed her own buttocks and spread them for you. Next you pressed down on her butthole, which began to engulf you inch by inch.

You and Aeri let out a long moan of satisfaction, as your cock was already halfway inside her ass.

“Fuck, I missed this fucking delicious ass too much,” you growled, clinging to Aeri's waist.

"And I missed that huge cock inside it," Aeri replied, hugging the pillow she had under her head.

When your cock disappeared into Aeri's more than experienced ass you rested there for a few seconds, letting her feel every inch filling her. You soon began to move up and down, pumping your hips at a calm pace at first so that her butthole was stretched and ready for the real frenzy. Aeri quickly tired of your gentleness, and with her face she screamed for you to go faster. You fucked her ass as fast and hard as you could, hands resting on her back under her and also pulling her hair from time to time. Of course, you also filled her with multiple slaps but on her ass, now the red tone of her buttocks matched the one on Jimin's tits. Between hair pulls and brutal pumps, she came, hugging the pillow even tighter and biting it to drown out her screams.

"For the love of god, I definitely won't let these bitches have you so often..." she said between gasps, seeing you with strands of her hair stuck to her face.

"I'm a text away, Uchinaga," you said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

"Is it my turn now?" Jimin said from behind you.

You got out of Aeri's ass and turned to look at her.

"Of course," you nodded and spread your arms. "Come here, my spoiled, competitive little whore."

"There I go."

Jimin rushed into your arms and you received her with a warm hug, filling every part of her face with kisses before moving to her lips. You lasted a few long seconds kissing as if you were in one of those cliché romantic movies where the man holds the woman in her arms at the moment when she is about to fall to the ground. It must have been a very funny image for Aeri, it's a shame she couldn't see it because you had destroyed her ass.

After having kissed her enough you laid her on her back and you lay on her stomach between her outstretched legs. On a normal occasion your target would have been her delicious pussy, but this time you focused your attention on her butthole. She brought a hand to your hair and stroked it gently, watching you with bright little eyes as you planted your tongue on her ass.

You made sure that she enjoyed eating her ass as much as you did, which you think you did quite well since she was already twisting her hips slightly while grabbing a tit.

"Are you ready, baby?" you said, looking into her eyes.

She bit her lower lip, and nodded with flushed cheeks.

"Well, this time I'll have to lube myself," you said, bringing a hand to your mouth.

"No!" She interrupted quickly, then spit into her own hand and brought it to your cock to rub it until it had regained its slippery state. When you made the move to guide your cock into her ass yourself. She stopped you once again to do it herself.

"Fuck, you're a good girl, aren't you?" you said in a murmur, looking into her eyes as your tip pressed against her butthole.

"I am for you and only you..." she murmured back. "But don't tell Gigi that."

"I heard it," Aeri said immediately, quietly.

Before Yoo 'Short Tempered' Jimin could argue again, you pushed forward and took your cock inside her tight ass. Any possible response Jimin was going to give Aeri was cut off by a high-pitched squeal of pleasure as she felt your cock fill her ass.

"Please kiss me again," Jimin requested between small moans when your cock was about to reach the bottom.

You leaned forward and she hugged you again, both arms around your neck the moment your lips met again. You pleasured her only for a few seconds, until your cock had already reached the bottom and you had already done the first slow pumps.

Jimin's ass wasn't as experienced and easy to stretch as Aeri's. It required patience. You were willing to have it, after all, the sight of her face flushed and twisted with pleasure made every juicy second that your cock slid in and out of her butthole worth it.

"Are you okay, baby?" you said as you straightened your back, caressing her inner thighs.

She nodded with her eyes closed and her lips pursed.

"I'm fine, love..." she gasped. "You just fuck me, show no mercy. It's an order."

You smiled and gave one of her tits a hard slap. The red was revived. She squealed and opened her eyes to look at you.

"What makes you think you can order me around?"

"I don't care, shut your mouth and obey..."

You put a hand on her neck. You squeezed your fingers tightly, and she automatically brought her hands to hold onto your wrist since you were cutting off her breathing. You moved your hips faster, harder. Now you made her tits bounce subtly.

"Are you sure? Reconsider your answer... come on," you growled, loosening your grip.

"Do..." she swallowed thickly and muffled a moan against her pursed lips. "Do whatever you want with me daddy."

You heard a laugh from Aeri.

"Who's the slut now?" she said, imitating Jimin's exact tone of voice when she told her a few minutes ago.

Once again, you had to deprive her of any option to respond, now bringing both hands to her neck to now fuck her without any kind of mercy, just as she had asked you. Her tits started bouncing faster. She spread her legs wide and moved them as far back as she could, giving you better access to her ass while you fucked her.

You didn't expect that the law that whenever she felt how you filled her with your cum she also came would also apply to her butthole, but hilariously it did. You let go of her neck and she took a sharp breath. At this point she was no longer moaning, she could only let out muffled, incomplete sounds. You held one hand to her waist and with the other you squeezed her tits. Seconds later you came, and the moment you felt a drop of cum inside her, she followed you.

“Mmggh, fuck yes,” Jimin groaned, clenching the sheets on either side of her as you shot cum inside her. "Fill my ass daddy... fill me to the fucking bottom."

Aeri gasped in surprise.

"My god... Jiminie is a cum slut, who was going to say that."

Despite your efforts to make Jimin not respond with words, she did so anyway with actions, smacking Aeri's hand on her thigh to make her squeal. You leaned forward to brush your lips against Jimin's ear.

"She may or may not bother you..." you whispered. "But she's right."

Jimin grabbed you by your neck and also brought her mouth to your ear.

"Yeah, I'm your fucking cum slut..." she whispered back. "But she doesn't have to know."

"I don't think she didn't notice, anyway."

You and she laughed. You stood up, pulling out of her ass to watch your cum spill out of her. You looked at Aeri, and just by meeting your eyes she instantly knew what to do. You moved away and she took your position, she lowered herself down and started eating Jimin's ass, consequently swallowing your cum on the way. You couldn't help but give Aeri another spank while she did it.

When they finished cleaning they looked at you again.

"So, who has the best ass?" Aeri said, clearly expecting only one answer judging by the look on her face.

This time you couldn't just lie, you had to be completely honest. As much as you loved Jimin's ass, Aeri was on a whole other level.

"The winner here will be Aeri," you said, lying down on the corner of the bed to rest.

"Yayyyy!" Aeri screamed to small applause. "I knew it, I kneeeew it."

Contrary to what you thought at first, Jimin didn't seem to care about her defeat in this round. She seemed calm, perhaps aware of what was coming next. She just lay down on a pillow and moved her tits from side to side.

"I don't care, you won't be able to beat me at this, slut," she said, bringing her arms together to squeeze her tits together.

You sighed and closed your eyes.

“Fuck, just let me rest for a moment,” you said. "I feel like I'm going to die at any moment."

For the first time all night, the two of them seemed to agree on something, as they lay down, one on each side of you, to fill you with kisses, cuddles and caresses of all kinds. In short, if heaven existed, it must be something extremely similar to that.

It took about twenty minutes until you were halfway composed.

"Okay," you said as you opened your eyes. "Jiminie, lie down."

Jimin got up from your side and went straight to lay down on the same pillow as before. You also got up and went to straddle her, your recently hard cock again—thanks to the two of them touching it seconds before— floating above her tits.

You placed your cock in the middle of those pair of heavy mounds and she brought her arms together to trap you between them. This time you didn't let her do the honors, you used your own saliva to lubricate your cock and part of her tits. Then, you pumped your hips back and forth. There you didn't have to be patient, so you went straight with frantic pumps over and over again.

Last time it had been Jimin who had fucked you with her tits, but you hadn't had the chance to actually fuck her tits. It was an incredibly pleasurable experience, like sliding your cock between two pieces of soft, warm meat. You did it for about two minutes. But as much as you loved doing it, you couldn't give her the pleasure of draining you again.

You stopped and got out from between her tits. Jimin looked at you with a frown.

"Huh? What are you doing?" she said.

"I'm sorry, but you've already made me cum twice," you said.

"Inside you," Aeri added. You nodded.

"The fair thing would be to let Aeri make me cum this time."

Jimin rolled her eyes and shook her head, visibly offended when she knew perfectly well that you were right.

You moved towards Aeri, who stopped you before you straddled her lap.

"Nuh uh," she shook her head. "I already know that she beats me in tits, I don't care about that. I just want to make you cum with my thighs."

You raised both eyebrows, surprised at the fact that she left her competitiveness aside for once all night.

"Only if you let me paint your tits and face anyway," you said.

Aeri smiled.

"It's a deal, daddy," she nodded and lay on her side, with both legs out to the side.

When you positioned yourself in front of her and made the gesture of entering between her thighs, she stopped you again and spit on her hand to lubricate your cock with it. When your cock was slippery again she raised one thigh, and when your cock was in the middle of both, she lowered it again to wrap it in a sandwich of thick, tender meat.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, throwing your head back.

You clung to the back of Aeri's knee with one hand and her thigh with the other, using as much downward pressure as possible to feel your cock being smothered by flesh from above and below.

"You love it, don't you?" Aeri said, staring at you.

"Oh fuck yes," you nodded between small grunts.

You pumped slowly at first, just to feel every little detail and texture of her perfect thighs as you slid in and out of them. The sensation was similar to being between Jimin's tits, only it felt much warmer and tighter, as Aeri made sure to keep her thighs as pressed between your cock as possible. It was suffocating to a certain extent, but you didn't mind in the least.

One of your hands came to rest on her waist, but then she quickly went up to her more than decent tits to squeeze them and play with her nipples. Aeri let out small moans as you played with her tits.

"Why don't you put it further to the right?" she said, referring to your cock.

She lifted her thigh and grabbed your cock to position it a few inches further to the right, where it met the silky smooth folds of her plump pussy on the side. She lowered the thigh again, making the meat sandwich once more. You were free to fuck her thighs once more, only this time you had an extra stimulus: her folds rubbing against your cock on the right.

It was kind of embarrassing how quickly that turned out, as you darted out from between her thighs and rose to stand above her, both of your feet on either side of her shoulders. And in true JAV style, you masturbated on top of her to shoot your last jets of cum on her tits and, mainly, her face. Both sides were painted white in a matter of seconds.

Aeri gasped satisfied and licked the cum from her own lips and chin with her tongue.

"Oh god...this feels like heaven to me," she said with a gasp looking at you.

You looked at Jimin, who raised her eyebrows.

"Do I really have to clean her up?" she said.

"Just fucking come here, Jiminie," Aeri said holding out her hand.

Jimin reluctantly took Aeri's hand and let herself be pulled by her. She fell silent on the Japanese woman's body, and both began to share a torrid making out session whose rather secondary objective was to clean the cum from Aeri's face. It took about a minute until Jimin had cleaned both the cum from her face and her tits.

"As you can understand, this is a debate that is impossible to close..." you said between labored breaths. "But I'm happy to continue trying to make you decide."

"Can we spend the night with you?" Jimin said, hugging Aeri from the side.

"Please say yes," Aeri said with a pout, also hugging Jimin and entwining her thighs with hers.

"Please no more sex, that's the only condition," you said, lying down on the other end of the bed. "My tank is emptied”.

"Just now we spent a while giving you kisses and making you a spoiled boy," Jimin said. "Who says we can't do it again all night?"

That was all you needed to hear after going through such daytime garbage. You moved to lie behind Jimin and wrapped them both in a hug. Jimin gave you a kiss on your forearm, and Aeri gave you one on the back of your hand.

You spent the rest of the night looking like a polyamorous relationship in which you were the main focus. You chatted, laughed a lot and told silly stories. Just what you needed to forget, just for a moment, about all the shit that was coming your way.

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