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letsgetbigger · 2 months ago

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OnlyFat

Nigel looked at himself in the mirror, as he did every morning, admiring his toned and sculpted body, the result of years of dieting and hard work at the gym. At 28 years old, he felt at the peak of his physical form. Firm muscles, broad shoulders, and a defined abdomen, along with his handsome face and sizable cock, had earned him a considerable number of followers on OnlyFans. While he wasn’t a millionaire, earning an average of about two thousand dollars a month allowed him certain luxuries and a pretty comfortable lifestyle. He enjoyed his routine. He filmed private videos, always eager to please, and responded to the strangest and most specific requests from his fans. No matter what they asked of him, he always found a way to enjoy it; perhaps due to his naturally submissive nature, something he had discovered long ago and now used to his advantage.

That Tuesday, as he checked the messages in his account, he came across a proposal that made him pause. It was from someone named Dom43, who had written to him several times before, though never with such a direct request. The message read:

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you gain ten pounds of fat in a month and send me a video of the results. No tricks. I want to see how you change. What do you say?”

Nigel raised an eyebrow and reread the offer over and over. It wasn’t the typical request he was used to. At first, it seemed strange, almost absurd. But the money—a thousand dollars!—was a considerable temptation. Plus, a part of him, the part that had always enjoyed obeying and submitting to others’ desires, felt a twinge of excitement at the idea. After a few minutes of thought, he shrugged and let himself go with his gut.

“I accept,” he wrote back.

He knew doing this would change something, though he wasn’t sure what. What he didn’t expect was just how much this would lead him down an unexpected path.

For Nigel, gaining ten pounds in a month didn’t seem like much of a challenge. And he knew that once he hit the goal and pocketed that thousand dollars, he could go back to his strict diet and regain his physique in a matter of weeks. It was just a simple detour, a small, temporary indulgence. Nothing serious. With that assurance, he decided to change his eating habits.

That same afternoon, he went to the grocery store, filling his cart with everything he normally avoided: frozen pizzas, pastries, salty snacks, and especially lots of tubs of ice cream, which he promised himself to devour every night. Salads were out of the picture for a few weeks. When he got home, the idea of indulging in unrestrained pleasure, of breaking the rules he had imposed on himself for years, turned him on. Even more so when he remembered he was doing it for Dom43, to fulfill his request.

That night, he sat on the couch in front of the TV, a pizza on one side and a tub of ice cream on the other, a smile on his face. At first, he ate because he was hungry, but soon that hunger turned into something darker, more intimate. He kept eating, even though he was no longer hungry. The mere thought of knowing he was stuffing himself, filling up to please someone, gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. When he finished, he lay back on the couch, gently stroking his slightly bloated stomach, feeling strangely satisfied.

***

Two weeks had passed, and Nigel had fully embraced his new routine of excess. He was eating as if it were a competition. The food filled him, but what really satisfied him was the idea of transforming his body at someone else’s request. He knew he was changing, that his body was reacting. And it was confirmed when he weighed himself: eight pounds gained. He was close to reaching his goal.

The next day, while working out, his personal trainer, Mark, noticed something different. Nigel was in the middle of doing crunches when Mark let out a mocking laugh.

“You’ve been slacking a bit, man,” he said, giving Nigel’s stomach a light tap. “You’ve put on some weight. And not just around the belly…” Mark added, motioning toward his backside.

Nigel laughed, trying to hide the heat rushing to his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve been indulging a little—nothing serious.”

Mark shook his head, but the comment stuck with Nigel. That teasing remark hit deep. It didn’t bother him, though. On the contrary, he liked it. For the rest of the workout, he couldn’t stop thinking about how his body was changing, about how much Dom43 would enjoy watching him soften up.

When he got home, he quickly stripped off his clothes and looked in the mirror. He touched his stomach, which was no longer as flat as it once was, and caressed the soft roundness beginning to form on his rear. Mark’s words echoed in his mind, and at that moment, Nigel couldn’t resist any longer. He collapsed onto his bed and jerked off, reaching the most intense climax of his life. What had started as a simple game to make some money had now completely consumed him.

The month had come to an end, and Nigel was ready. He carefully set up the camera, making sure the lighting was perfect, bright enough to highlight every change in his body, to show Dom43 the results of his effort. He stood in front of the mirror, took a deep breath, and began undressing slowly, recording the whole process. First, he removed his shirt, revealing his torso. His chest, once firm and defined, now had a slight sag to it. His belly, swollen and covered by a soft layer of fat, folded into rolls when he bent slightly. Then he pulled down his pants, leaving him in his tight white briefs, which now clung to him like never before. His thighs were noticeably thicker. But the real surprise came when he turned around. His ass, bigger and rounder, seemed to want to burst out of the tight fabric. The briefs could barely contain it. He gently touched his ass, feeling its fullness. Without missing a beat, he moved to the scale he had placed in front of the camera. He stepped on it carefully, watching the numbers climb rapidly. And there it was, the number that left him stunned: 191 pounds. He had gained fifteen pounds instead of the ten Dom43 had asked for. Five extra pounds, the result of his complete submission to food. Seeing the number, Nigel instantly got hard, unable to help himself.

“A hundred and ninety-one...” he muttered to himself.

Without thinking any further, he let the excitement take over. He jerked off in front of the camera, his breath ragged, and his moans filling the room. He did it for Dom43, but also for himself, for everything he had discovered about himself in the process.

Once finished, he sent the private video with a mix of anxiety and satisfaction, eagerly awaiting Dom43’s response. It didn’t take long to arrive: a payment confirmation accompanied by a comment that made Nigel shiver. “You’re a pathetic pig. You gained all this weight just because I told you to. I love it.” Nigel read aloud quietly. “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars more if you gain another twenty pounds in two months. Do you dare to become my fantasy?”

Nigel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his still-naked, slightly sweaty body after the recording. His phone’s screen glowed with Dom43’s message: ten thousand dollars to gain another twenty pounds. The offer was tempting, too tempting. With that kind of money, he wouldn’t have to make more videos for months. He could take a break from his online life and focus on something else. Just the thought of that financial freedom made him feel relieved. But there was something more—a deep desire to please Dom43, to follow his orders, to submit to whatever he asked. It consumed him inside. He had discovered a new form of pleasure. Every pound he gained, every humiliating comment, ignited something within him that he had never felt before. Pleasing Dom43 had become almost an addiction. Yet, fear lingered in the background. He had already gained fifteen pounds, and although he initially thought he could lose it easily, he was starting to doubt whether the same would be true for thirty-five pounds. What if he couldn’t? What if continuing to gain weight destroyed the success of his OnlyFans account?

***

Nigel never imagined he would lose so much control. What started as a challenge, almost a game, had become a new reality. In just a month and a half of nonstop eating, he had gained the twenty-pounds Dom43 requested, pushing his body to limits he had never thought possible. Now weighing 211 pounds, the man he saw in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. His belly hung over the waistband, his thighs rubbed together with every step, and his once firm chest now bounced lightly with each movement. But the most shocking transformation of all was his ass, now enormous, two soft masses that jiggled with every step. And for some reason, that excited him more than it scared him.

When he arrived at the gym one afternoon, Mark greeted him with his usual mocking grin.

"Well, look who's here: my star client," Mark said sarcastically, his eyes scanning Nigel’s new body.

Throughout the workout, Mark made constant comments about his weight. Every time Nigel did a squat or lifted weights, he could feel Mark’s eyes on him, watching how his belly wobbled or how his ass strained against his shorts, which barely contained it anymore. But the most intense moment came after the workout when Nigel stepped out of the showers. As he was drying off, he noticed Mark watching him from across the locker room.

"Jesus, man..." Mark said, his eyes trailing over Nigel’s naked body. "You're huge. Like, seriously."

Before Nigel could respond, Mark stepped closer and gave him a smack on the ass. The sound echoed in the room, and Nigel’s butt cheeks rippled under Mark’s firm hand like jello. Nigel felt his face heat up, a mix of shame and arousal spreading over his skin.

"Damn," Mark laughed, "that moves like jello. What have you been eating, ice cream by the gallon? You’re getting obese, dude."

Nigel couldn’t answer, his throat dry, his mind stuck on the echo of Mark’s words. Obese. It was the first time anyone had called him that, and instead of being offended, the word hit him like a lightning bolt of pure desire. He tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak, almost choked.

He stood in front of the camera, taking deep breaths as he prepared for his second private session with Dom43. Like before, he undressed slowly, savoring each moment. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a torso that no longer had any trace of the firm muscles he once prided himself on. His chest was soft and round, visibly moving with each breath. His nipples had widened and felt unusually sensitive as he brushed his fingers over them. Then he slid off his pants, left in the same white briefs from the previous video. This time, they felt like a cruel joke. The edges dug into his hips and thighs, squeezing him in a way that was both uncomfortable and intensely arousing. His swollen belly hung slightly over the waistband, which seemed ready to give up the fight. Nigel turned to face the camera, letting it capture the most obvious change of all: his ass. It completely filled the briefs, making them look absurdly small. The fabric was stretched to its limit, with the tops of his cheeks spilling over, exposing the crack as if the briefs couldn’t possibly contain so much mass. He gave a slight shake, and his ass jiggled, continuing to bounce for a few seconds before settling. Seeing himself like that—so exposed, so impossibly large—sent a wave of arousal through him that nearly made him lose control right then and there. Nigel couldn’t help but smile. He knew Dom43 would love seeing what he had accomplished. The high point of the video came when he stepped onto the scale, carefully positioned in front of the camera. He showed the result: 211 pounds. Thirty-five pounds more than he weighed when this all began. He couldn’t help himself; the thrill of having transformed for someone else, of having fully surrendered to it, overwhelmed him. Once again, he masturbated in front of the camera, but this time, the orgasm was more intense, more liberating. His breath grew ragged, and every curve of his body shook with the force of his release.

When it was over, he sent the video to Dom43. The payment came through quickly, but what made Nigel’s heart race wasn’t the large sum of money. It was the words that followed.

“You’ve become my obedient pig. You’re good for nothing but getting fatter. You should be ashamed of how far you’ve fallen, but the worst part is, I know you love it.”

Nigel swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. It was true. He loved every humiliating word, every cruel comment that made him feel smaller, more submissive, despite his growing size. But it was the last line of the message that left him frozen.

“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars if you gain another thirty pounds.”

***

Nigel was nervous. It had been over two months since he last filmed a video for his regular OnlyFans subscribers, and now, with his body drastically transformed, he had no idea how they would react. He wanted to see if the weight gain had changed anything, if his fans were still interested in him despite the fact that he no longer had the muscular, chiseled physique that had attracted them in the first place. Deep down, he hoped it wouldn’t matter too much, that they would still desire him, and that he wouldn’t have to rely on Dom43 to stay financially stable. He set up the camera like always, but this time, he took a longer look at himself in the mirror. It was incredible how much his body had changed in just two months. His body felt heavy. Every movement made him more aware of his size.

"It's just a video," he whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. "I just want to see how they react."

He stood in front of the camera, shirtless, revealing his round, soft torso, wearing only a pair of black briefs that used to be loose on him. He did the usual gestures he used in his videos, showing his body from different angles, touching his chest and stomach, running his hands over the areas now covered in fat.

He uploaded the video.

The first responses came in quickly. As soon as he read the comments, his fears were confirmed. There was no acceptance, no admiration. Just criticism, mockery, and, above all, shock.

“What happened to you? You used to look incredible, but now you look like a different person,” wrote one of his longtime followers.

“You’re huge! And not in a good way. What kind of joke is this?” added another.

The comments kept coming, each one harsher than the last. They called him fat and disgusting. Some even felt betrayed by the change, as if Nigel had deliberately hidden what he’d been doing over the past few months. Others openly laughed at him, making fun of how his body had lost all definition. Nigel read every word, feeling a mix of humiliation and indescribable excitement. He had expected a negative reaction, but the brutal honesty of their attacks surpassed all his expectations. Far from feeling defeated, something dark and deep inside him awakened. Each insult, each criticism, made him feel more alive, more aware of his body and what he had achieved. The taunts about his physique didn’t discourage him; they aroused him in a way he couldn’t ignore. It was as if those words freed him. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to push forward. He turned off his computer screen and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Dom43 had offered him twenty thousand dollars to gain another thirty pounds. Thirty pounds that would transform him even more, taking him to a new level of submission. He had thought about rejecting the offer, about going back to his former physique. But after reading his fans’ comments, after feeling the impact of their words on his body, there was no longer any doubt. With a smile on his face, Nigel decided he was going to accept the challenge. He was ready to fully give in, to see just how far he could go.

***

Nigel stopped going to the gym altogether. Every morning, he woke up to the same routine: eat, jerk off, and eat more. His appetite seemed endless, and his libido was out of control, higher than ever. The discipline he once had had crumbled, replaced by an obsession with giving in to food and the thrill of his own transformation. His clothes no longer fit. The jeans, tight shirts, and briefs that had once defined his muscular figure now wouldn't even make it past his thighs or tore when he tried putting them on. Soon, he realized the only piece of clothing that still fit him was an old tracksuit, and even that didn’t fit well—it was so tight that the fabric stretched ridiculously, and his belly stuck out. He only wore it when he went out to buy more food, but at home, he spent his days completely naked.

In three months, Nigel had gained another thirty-five pounds, surpassing even Dom43’s challenge. His body was unrecognizable, and the scale didn’t lie. He weighed 246 pounds, a number he’d never imagined reaching. His thighs were so thick they had changed the way he walked. His belly was soft, round, and hung over. His arms, once firm, were now wrapped in fat. And his chest, completely soft, jiggled with even the slightest movement. He knew it was time to film the video for Dom43. He prepared in the simplest and most provocative way possible: completely naked, with a box of donuts by his side and the scale ready to show the result. The camera started rolling, and Nigel let himself get caught up in the moment. He grabbed one of the donuts and bit into it slowly, letting the sugar slide down his lips as he chewed exaggeratedly. He knew Dom43 would love to see him like this, enjoying the food that had turned him into what he was now.

“I’ve surpassed your challenge,” Nigel said, his voice thick with pleasure as he bit into another donut. “Another thirty-five pounds. I hope you’re happy.”

He stood up with difficulty, his ass visibly bouncing as he walked toward the scale. He stepped onto it with some effort, and it stopped at 246 pounds. Nigel showed the number to the camera with a satisfied grin on his face.

“246 pounds,” he said with pride in his voice. “But that’s not all.”

He grabbed a measuring tape and started measuring his body. First, he wrapped it around his waist.

“Fifty inches,” he announced, staring at his belly.

Then he measured his ass, which had turned into a massive ball of fat, and the number was just as shocking.

“Fifty-three inches. I can’t even fit in my office chair.”

Nigel paused for a moment, looking at the camera with a euphoric expression.

“All of this... is for you, Dom43. I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

He ended the video with one last bite, chewing slowly as he jiggled his whole body while masturbating. When he finished, he turned off the camera and collapsed onto the couch, panting from exhaustion. He sent the video to Dom43 and waited, knowing the response wouldn’t take long. When it came, it was exactly what he expected.

“You’ve exceeded my expectations, pig. I never imagined you’d reach this point, that you’d become such a mountain of fat for me. Look at yourself, you’re pathetic, completely out of control. And you know what? I love it. You’ve done everything I asked and more. You’re the perfect submissive fat boy. You’re good for nothing but eating, getting fatter, and letting others laugh at you. But I must also say, I’m proud of you. You’ve proven you’re completely mine, willing to transform yourself this way just to please me. You’re incredible, in the worst way possible, of course, but that’s exactly where your greatness lies.”

Nigel stared at the screen, absorbed in the words. He had done everything Dom43 had wanted. And yet, he felt he could go further. The idea of gaining even more weight, of leaving behind any trace of his former self, called to him with unstoppable force. Without thinking too much, he typed the question that had been on his mind for days, a question that made him tremble with anticipation:

“How much will you pay me if I reach 300 pounds?”

The silence that followed for a few seconds was deafening, but Dom43’s response came quickly.

“I’m not paying you anything. This time, you won’t do it for the money. I want you to do it for me, because you can’t stop yourself now. I want you to gain until you reach 300 pounds just to please me, because now you know that’s the only thing that turns you on. You’ll do it because you belong to me.”

Nigel took a deep breath, feeling each word of that message wrap around him, filling him with a mix of submission and absolute pleasure. He knew Dom43 was right. It was no longer about the money. It was about something much bigger. What had started as a simple desire to fulfill a fantasy had become his reality. With trembling fingers, he typed the only thing he knew he could say at that moment, the only thing his mind and cock screamed for with overwhelming clarity:

“I’ll do it.”

#gainer stories #gaining fat #gaining kink #gaining weight on purpose #gay gainer #gainer fiction

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dulcento · 1 month ago

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cw ۫ ꣑ৎ actor satoru gojo x fem. reader, angst, foul language, hurt no comfort, feminine pet names, mentions of cöck, he just sucks ◟ 2.3k wc

lola’s lip service : beta read by the lovely @kisstoru, thx bunny xxx

as the music in the club shifts to a sensuous beat, it pales in comparison to the steady drum of anger coursing through your veins at the scene filling your vision.

if the grip on your martini glass was any tighter, jagged shards would scrape your hand, vodka searing each gash as if they were set on fire.

and yet… that’d be nothing compared to the sting of watching your boyfriend, a famed actor satoru gojo, flirting with another woman twenty feet away from you.

your relationship with the white-haired man started rocky, for obvious reasons. coming from two different worlds would cause a strain on any relationship. satoru, being used to the limelight and attention, saw nothing wrong with late nights out in los angeles, liquor, and various women throwing themselves at him under the guise of being his ‘fans’. after all, it came with the lifestyle of being ‘the sexiest man in hollywood’.

you, on the other hand, saw everything wrong with it.

you’ve lost count of how many times you and satoru would argue over the violation of your boundaries. yes, your boundaries because if you’ve learned one thing while being in a relationship with satoru… boundaries? he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. like now, as you gawk at the sight of satoru’s slender fingers gingerly tucking that girl’s hair behind her pierced ear, fingertips grazing over the industrial bar through her cartilage.

bile rises from your gut, threatening to make your dinner reappear in chunks at the lustful gleam in his eyes as his cerulean attention flints to that girl’s cleavage. your body heat reaches scorching temperatures, a thin layer of sweat materializing on your flesh from the maelstrom of emotions clouding your psyche. fury, sadness, with a heaping dose of disappointment crawls up your throat, constricting your airway, making it hard to breathe, pressure building behind your sinuses.

damn it, not now, not—

your thoughts short-circuit when you catch a glimpse of that girl pressing her tits against satoru’s sculpted chest, his sizable hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer. it was as if your tears disintegrated from your very eyes, filling your scleras with flames, pupils dilating in ire. slamming your glass on the round table, you shoot up to your feet, saint laurent heels heavily clicking against the vinyl flooring as if they’re made of lead, bringing you closer to the object of your vexation.

“yeah? you wanna taste, pretty gi— hey!” satoru yelps when your hand curls around the back of his leather jacket, yanking him away from the disgusting atmosphere he created with that girl. “‘toru, let’s talk outside,” your tone signifying no question was asked, and judging by his threaded brow raising at said tone, he knows it was a demand.

“hm? what about?” satoru teases, playfulness dancing in his cyanic irises. your gaze hardens into an ominous glare, “now, satoru,” ice wrapping around each syllable of his given name. his lids widened slightly, a shiver of fear running up his spine before retracting to their relaxed state. he can feel the eggshells cracking under his feet. satoru decides it’s better to tread lightly as to not spur you on… for now.

he nods, leaving cash on the bar top for his tab before rising to his feet from the uncomfortable stool. as he moves to walk behind you, a hand lands on his bicep, the muscle dwarfing the sickly appendage almost comically. “leaving me already, handsome?” a voice, akin to nails on the chalkboard rings in your ears, making your nose scrunch up in distaste.

satoru’s attention catches hers, a stupid smirk curling up on his face. “sorry baby, gotta talk to her real quick,” he replies, coyness infesting his tenor, your neck cracking with how hard you did a double take. hearing ‘baby’ roll of satoru’s tongue, all honeyed and sweet, towards some trollop, makes smoke come out your ears.

“i’ll be here,” she giggles, the sound making your ass itch. satoru winks… winks! at her, turning around to face you. he flinches back once he sees how close you are to him. “whew, you scared me, baby,” his blood pressure leveling once more. he should be scared, you think to yourself, eyes scanning his frame before walking towards the exit, satoru trailing behind you.

the velvet-padded door opens, causing the autumn breeze to kiss your skin, tapering off the jitters in your bones a tad. silent tension blankets you and satoru as the constant thump of footfalls fill the dead air. satoru, can’t help but admire you from behind. you can almost feel his eyes fucking you from top to bottom as you both walk together towards the parking lot.

is he that fucking clueless about your mood?

leaning your ass against the hood of your bentley, crossing your arms over your ample chest, “explain,” stern vocal cords slicing through the air like a katana through flesh. satoru’s features screw up in mockery, “whaddya mean, princess?” faux ignorance laced through each vowel, creases forming in between your brows. your acrylics dig into the plump flesh of your tricep, leaving crescent marks on your once unblemished skin.

it’s times like this when you wonder how you fell in love with satoru.

letting out a huff, pinching the bridge of your nose, you utter, “this is not the time to act like something’s funny, satoru.” a child-like frown downturn on his face, grumbling, “you’re no fun, baby,” as his spine straightens. you feel a sliver of your irritation subside at him taking this conversation seriously. you try not to get your hopes up too much. one minute he’s communicating and listening, the next minute he’s cracking jokes, dismissing your worries as quickly as they came.

“it was jus’ a little flirting, baby. what of it?” satoru nonchalantly smiles, his mitts residing deep in his jean pockets, indifferent. you scoff. so much for him taking things seriously.

“seriously?” you question, annoyed.

“why? jealous? awww, don’t be jealous, baby. you know—” you cut satoru off by slapping away his hand as it was about to cup your cheek. “jealous of who, exactly?” you spit, vexed by his mocking tone. he chuckles, “oh come on, you’re a smart girl. figure it out,” twirling a stray lock of your hair around his finger. you push his hand away once more, fed up with his antics.

“do you just not give a fuck about me?”

satoru’s grin drops from his face at your pained expression. exasperation covered his own as you snapped at him. “what’s wrong this time?” he inquired, shifting his weight to his other leg. with how hard you rolled your eyes, you’re surprised they didn’t fall out of your skull.

this time?!

the vein on the side of your neck bulges at his complete lack of awareness. “just answer truthfully. why were you flirting with that girl?” at this point, you’re over it, over him. there’s no use in beating around the bush. no use in acting unbothered when you are bothered. satoru stares at you, boredom etched on his face. “it’s not rocket science as to why,” he scoffs.

if you didn’t have self-control, you would’ve punched him square in his gums. “apparently it is ‘cause i don’t understand it,” looking into his eyes, demanding an answer. the fact that after a year of being his girlfriend, having the same fights over and over, he still can’t comprehend why you’re upset right now.

and that fact hurts you.

“i felt like it. besides, she made it easy for me,” satoru shrugs, adjusting his sleek rolex before smoothing down his black shirt. “i mean, i can’t help that i’m handsome, baby,” pearly white grin spreading across his soft lips, singular dimple making an appearance.

a harsh laugh rips through your sternum. did he just say that out loud? you think to yourself. in this moment, friends, family, and media blogs warning you about this man, come back to haunt you in despicable ways. you feel like a fool. a complete bozo for thinking he had a shred of respect for your relationship.

what did you expect from a man tmz calls ‘satoru hoejo’?

“why did i ever bother with you, huh?! what made me think you, out of all people, could fucking understand how a fucking adult relationship fucking works? a fucking man-child is what you are, asshole,” you belittle, red hot disdain slinking into each dig you bark.

blood sloshes in your ears, your ragged breathing louder than normal as you try to uncurl your hands from their white-knuckled fists. satoru’s cool gaze studies your demeanor, chiseled arms crossing over his chest. internally, he is reveling in your outrage. he can’t help the way his cock stirs behind his fly at the fiery pitch your tone adheres to.

before he can stop himself, satoru teases, “heh, you’re so cute when you’re mad.” at his verbiage, you freeze, feeling as if a bucket of cold water was dumped over your head, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your shivering skin. you just don’t understand. how can someone who’s supposed to protect your heart, continually handle it as if it’s not fragile? you wanted so badly to believe he was different, so badly to hope he’d give you what you’ve been searching for. but as you notice that playful arrogance twinkling in his light irises, you’re made keenly aware that he’s not who he portrayed himself to be.

“and on that note, we’re done satoru. tell that girl, with the change machine between her legs, to take you home,” rounding the front of your car, reaching the driver's side door, wanting to be alone and forget about the last hour of your life.

try the last year of your life.

you couldn’t even curl your hand around the door handle before satoru grabbed your arm, halting your movements. “what are you telling me?” tightening his grasp on your elbow, agitation seeds planting in his voice. snatching your arm away from the beginnings of a vise-like grip, “fuck you,” you fume.

a cracked chuckle vacates his larynx, “fuck me? is that what you’re telling me? after i gave you things the next woman would kill for?” satoru can’t believe how irrational you’re being right now. he doesn’t know what this is. are you jealous? insecure? or just downright insane, acting this way over something so small? sure, he flirts with other girls. so what? it’s not like any of those girls meant anything to him. it’s all fun and games to him. and if he pisses you off in the process, that’s fine with him. nothing like a good pounding into the mattress to dampen your fury. and it works, every. single. time.

except now.

“what did you give me?! a fucking migraine? yeah, that’s about as much as you’ve given me throughout this entire relationship.”

“yeah? so that necklace with my initials on it, those fucking diamonds on your fingers, that fucking car! you got that all by yourself?” he scoffs, snidely.

“here, take it all back!” you seethed, ripping off your necklace and chucking it at his face. he will not have that kind of hold on you. it’s all fake. the love, the care, the feelings… none of it was real. “what else do you want? my shoes?” slipping out your heels, throwing them at his feet. “my purse?” shoving your prada bag roughly into his chest. “w-what else huh? you… you already took my heart. not like i’ll ever get that back,” fresh crystalline drops filling your eyes as they burn with the weight of your fractured heart.

satoru stands there, statue stiff, regarding the scene in his eye line. a pang of… something pierces his chest seeing you cry, fat tears gliding down your cheeks, leaving streaks in your makeup. he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, throat tight, feeling as if he scarfed down a wine cork. satoru has never seen you cry, the sight so foreign, urging that pang to sink its fangs into his heartstrings, tugging on them brutally.

as you wipe the salt water away, satoru’s fingers twitch. his nerve endings screaming at him to comfort you, to be the first man to dry your tears instead of causing you to produce more. but, he stays glued to his spot, helplessness encasing his aura as he rubs the back of his neck, fingers grazing the buzzed hair contaminating his undercut.

“(name), i—”

lifting your manicured hand, you cut off his verbiage firmly, done with him. “don’t. i’m done with your empty words, your empty apologies, your empty fucking heart. i’m done with it all,” you reiterate, voice nasally as your tears invite all your congestion to come out and play. sniffling, you strap your heels back on your feet, cringing from the gravel stabbing your feet as it gets compressed by the sole of the torture devices.

snatching your purse out of satoru's mitts, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “you’ll… you’ll miss me,” satoru spoke, as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than you. his azures narrow at how ridiculous his feeble attempts echo through the still atmosphere, gritting his teeth as that feeling of desperation rears its ugly head.

“i’d rather adjust my life to your absence than lower my boundaries to allow your disrespect.”

the finality of your tone is like a dagger through each chamber of his heart, with each palpitation bursting like a balloon. satoru’s clutches slacken, urging you to remove your wrist from his calluses and enter your car. through the cotton stuffed in his ears, all he can recall is the rumbling hum of the engine, tires screeching from speeding away as the distance, both proverbial and literal, between the pair increases.

nippiness pricks at satoru’s skin, creating goosebumps to rise. whispers of his regrets flirt with the breeze, each insensitive action he bestowed upon you coming home to roost. tension formulates behind his sockets, his stomach dropping as the heavy lead of despair stacks in his gut.

“dammit…”

#˓ ✒️ ⤸ 𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ◞#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo angst #satoru gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jjk x fem!reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen angst

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yandere-wishes · 3 months ago

Text

༄｡° Ice on Ice ༄｡°

𐙚 Yandere!Capitano Drabble

𐙚 Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, gore, manipulation

𝄞 Song: Kill V. Maim by Grimes

⋆˙❅ He's molded you into his perfect darling. His perfect weapon ❅⋆˙

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚‧͙̩̩͙

It's always snowing in Snezhnaya .

Even in the dead of summer.

Capintano glides across the castle like a shadow. Shying away from the moonlight gleaming through the towering windows.

Ice slithers up his arm, forging into the hilt of his glacial sword.

He can smell your bloodlust in the air, good, you've already commenced the integration.

The lower levels of Zapolyarny castle speak only of terrors.

It's where the faithless come to die.

Traitors to Her Majesty.

It was where he'd kept you upon your initiation, where he burned you down and fabricated you anew.

His pretty little deadly thing.

So eager to please.

So loyal

The salty tang of blood permeating the air has his heart racing, furious war drum hammering in his chest. He follows the embers of your rage, standing by the threshold watching as you dig your knife deeper into the traitor's shoulder. Capitano basks in your raw fury. Your anger sweet on his tongue.

"Darling"

His voice is low, a whisper among the screams. Snowflake on ice and yet you still jump to attention. Run up to him with a sweet smile that doesn't quite suit the crimson specks adorning your cheeks.

His eyes glide across your taut body, spine straight, fingers up in salute. Your pyro delusion glowing gently at your waist. Ready to engrave his commands upon your bones.

"Master, the prisoner has confessed to carrying out treason against the crown. But he's yet to disclose the whereabouts of his fellow rebels."

"He will."

Capitano hands you his coat, relishing the delicate way you clench the heavy thing. Cradling it in your chest as if it's more precious than all the constatations above Tyvat. He pulls his helmet up, ever so slightly, enough to press his frigid lips against your cheek and lick the specks of blood. You freeze, fingers grasping the fuzzy pelt.

"Come watch, my darling"

He stalks towards the bloodied man, twirling his sword, letting the tiny ice splinters impale the traitor at random. The man cries, voice hoarse and weak. The slim glaciers replacing blood with frost.

You trail after him, lovesick and devotion in every step, his coat hanging from your shoulders.

Heavy burden upon frail shoulders, such a perplexing thing you are...

Capitano can't help but smile in satisfaction. He's molded you into perfection, sculpted you from the purest ice. He studies your work rigorously. Pain painted across the vile canvas. The traitor's right eye is missing, the socket scorched, torrid flesh pealing from his arms. His shirt ripped, rude stab wounds still fresh, still dripping ruby.

He's trained you well.

Trained you to make nation topple and archons bow. To bend the stars and flames with your fealty.

Maim and kill.

Because this world is too cruel for righteous little boys and naive little girls.

Kill and maim or else it will be done to you.

You pull the informer's hair back as Capitano lands a metal-clad punch to his face, blood sprays unceremoniously, spoiling Capintao's black-silver armor, followed by the familiar clatter of a tooth hitting the thinly iced floor.

Capintano steps back, braces himself for a moment then thrusts his sword into the rebel's thigh. Marring the sturdy hoar a rotten red. Frost blisters skin ripping the soft tissue underneath.

Ice chips bone

Meat falls to the cold ground.

The man screams, crying out locations and names in jetted tongue. His eyes slowly grow darker.

The blood continues to pool.

You clap your hands cheerfully. Letting the man's head fall forward "Well done master."

For a fleeting second, as you skip towards your master, you catch the traitor's picture in the odd light. You gulp, the creature staring back wears your face, your body, your skin. You see yourself in the dead stranger. Stubborn face and blank eyes. You blink and it's gone, a trick of the dark, one you're too eager to forget. Those days have passed, left to decay in snow-covered tombs. You are someone else now, more importantly, you are Capitano's lover, his most devoted soldier. No longer a gullible thing chasing after empty ideals.

Capitano towers over you. A stone pillar etched of ivory paragons. His iron fingers wrap around your smaller wrist as he pulls you forward. Your fingers lace through his ebony main, while your other hand pulls up the helmet, desperate for his kiss. Biting his lips and letting the blood from his armor stain your uniform. He pushes pain and loyalty down your throat with metallic spiced kisses. Replaces the pearls of your spine with molten lava and brimstone. His touches are frostbite running rampant across your body. Peeling away skin and inscribing mortality and ethereal strength into the soft tissue of your organs. Leaving your lungs corked with icy doctrines.

He has sculpted his style of blade work into your blood. Your veins pump explosions through your body.

Capitano's lips trace the expansion of your neck, savoring your essence between harsh kisses and harsher lovebites. You feel like a sword in his hands, meticulously forged with the finest steel. He has killed many apostates with you. Used you to serve the Tsaritsa without fail

Weapon of war, built from the corpse of a little lost girl.

The frenzy in your eyes, the cosmic thumb of your heart, the way your fingers claw, and the silver of skin of his neck.

Deadly deadly deadly.

He plays the role of the virtuous knight.

Only he's come to learn that many mistake virtue for pacifism.

No.

Love and loyalty are delicate threads entwined with massacre and pain.

You must kill to protect loyalty.

You must kill to protect love.

And how better to express both than in love letters penned with fresh scarlet and decay?

"Get rid of the body, we have much work to do." He raises his sword up to the thin ray of moonlight. For a second your reflection flashes across his icy sword, broken and damaged and perfect in every way. He gives you a final kiss on your templet. Before retrieving his coat and turning away. Disappearing in the dark.

You sigh, breath observable in the chill. Your fingers ignite, warmer and warmer. Preparing for another cremation.

Capitano smiles, ridged, grotesque. As a putrid sickly saccharine scent wafts through the castle's dungeon.

He's raised the perfect lover.

Devoted to a fault and stronger than any weapon.

He's looking forward to unleashing you upon the rebel's nest.

Looking forward to the dance of savage carnage.

It's summertime in Snezhnaya

Although you couldn't tell from the snowy blizzard outside...

When is Varka coming out? I want to be caged between the two of them so badly 😭😭

Also, guys, what if Capintano is Rustam or Arundolyn?? 🤔 I feel like I'm onto something

°🪼° @choueries @animelover6000 @viannasthings

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Note

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

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esouliie · 11 months ago

Text

TO SEEK FORGIVENESS

– pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis: recklessness requires a certain type of punishment, but you can only take so much.

– warnings: strap (r!receiving), breath play?, wanda is rough & reader is crying lol, aftercare! (18+)

“Baby, what was that? You scared me out there!”

Four words: What. A. Shit. Show.

On an undercover mission, you were ambushed by a swarm of HYDRA agents. Cover blown to pieces from Lord knows what. You had it under control -being an ex Widow meant you knew how to win, you knew how to kill - but after a rare bullet nearly missed your shoulder, you realised you didn’t and were way over your head.

You should’ve listen to Steve when he told you to fall back.

Luckily you weren’t alone. Your girlfriend being the ever powerful Scarlet Witch was able to swoop in and save the day as usual.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You reply sheepishly, brushing your fingers against Wanda’s, longing for her soothing touch but unsure if you were allowed to do so.

Wanda was always unreadable in times like this, when your life was threatened simply from doing your job. Sometimes she’d hold you close offering nothing but words of comfort for your effort, and other times she’d ice you out completely, too upset with you for being reckless.

“Prove it.” She moves her hands away from yours and places them on your hips, tilting her head slightly to the side as she wets her lips.

Your eyes drop to her lips and back up. “What do you mean?”

Not liking your response, Wanda clicks her tongue. Her legs carry her forward, forcing your back to the wall. She brings her palm level with your eyes, the other pinning your hips against the cold surface.

“I said,” her head curves round to your ear, “prove it.”

Something inside you clicked and immediately you rush forward to press your lips against hers. As if she knew, she grips onto the back of your neck, preventing you from reaching her.

A hiss slithers between your teeth at the sudden ache but you don’t try to break her hold. Wanda smirks at your obedience.

Her hold doubles in pressure as she forces you to your knees, not once breaking eye contact.

She cups your face, her thumb brushing gently over your bruised lips, fingertips dancing across the broken skin. Her other hand fiddles with the baby hairs at your neck, a silent apology for the pain she caused.

"So pretty." She coos just before grabbing your chin and bending down for a kiss, your bloodied lip long forgotten.

Her lips on yours were enough to divert your attention away from her hand slithering around your front to cup you through your shirt. The unexpected pleasure rendering you helpless under the woman’s grip. But, she detaches from you far too quickly and towers high and mighty over your crumpled body.

"Take these off for me."

Her eyes flick down to her pants, instructing you to remove them while a hand weaves through your hair, encouraging you to join in on her little game. Not wanting to disappoint any further, you swiftly pull the fabric down her sculpted legs, alongside her underwear, until she's bare from the waist down.

Wetness stained across her thighs. Your head spins, senses overwhelmed by her. All of her.

"Can you show me how sorry you are?”

—

“It’s a real shame,” Wanda’s hips slap against your thighs, crude noises of wet skin upon each other overpower the sounds of shared pleasure,“You’ve been so good recently.”

This has been going on for the last … you don’t know how many hours. She won’t let you finish, always stopping just before you can descend.

A maddening cycle with no respite in sight.

She leans her weight on top of you, thighs trembling as you try to stay up right. “So disappointed, baby.”

Her nails dig into your hips, marking the softness there, almost breaking the skin.

You try to usher out an apology, but your attempt is only met with Wanda’s hand shoving your head into the pillow under you.

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

With that, her cruelty returns.

The salt in your tears burn against the friction of your hot skin and damp pillow. Protests flood your mind as it becomes a struggle to breath. Pleasure conflicted by the immense passion of pain, both thoroughly entwined as you’re -well- thoroughly fucked.

It was too much.

Too much pressure between your legs.

Too much sensitivity that your nerves were set alight.

You reach back, pushing her stomach away in an attempt to slow her down. Your weakened arm failing to make purchase on her flushed skin. She doesn’t stop but her thrusts falter, slow and gentle instead of fast and brutal.

Finely tuned to the sound of you. She can always understand what your body says when your words can’t.

No words are shared but Wanda knows your body has had enough. She pulls out, removing her weight slowly before ridding herself of the harness, guiding you to lay on your back. Moving to your side, she leans over your figure, brushing the damp hairs away from your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice hoarse from your cries. The realisation of Wanda’s disappointment sinking deeper. It leaves you restless, a war is waged for her comfort with your mind as your greatest enemy.

You don’t deserve her reassurance.

“I know, baby. I know." Her distracting hands trail patterns down your arms, stopping along the way to sink deep into your sore muscles.

She heads for your stomach and pauses, returning her gaze to yours. Confusion etched across your face, as you watch Wanda decide what to do next.

She smiles but says nothing. Her hand starting its course downwards.

You take in deep breathes and lay perfectly still, wanting to be good, needing to be good for her.

“One last time.” She whispers gently, her lashes flutter as she searches your face for any hesitation.

“Be a good girl.”

Her touch, unlike last time, was light. A kind tongue savouring the taste of you before nimble fingers work wonders against your nerves.

It didn’t take long.

You came with a short gasp, the air suffocating deep within your lungs as you hold your breath. Wanda carries you through it, arms steady in comparison to your trembling figure.

Back to Earth, with heavy eyes and all, you notice Wanda’s messy ponytail as it trickles against her pebbled nipples. Her unblemished skin stretches far; full chest, long legs, strong arms.

A porcelain canvas.

Her beauty never fails to amaze you even after all these years.

She calls your name, grabbing your attention. That beautiful smile across her lips speaks volumes.

All had been forgiven.

Raised arms signal for her to come settle on your chest and she wastes no time as her breath hits your neck.

Heavy breasts brush against yours as she moves. Your hips involuntarily buck into hers. She laughs before leaving chaste kisses under your ear.

Comfort seeps into your bones, holding onto Wanda like this calms like nothing else. Your eyelids grow even heavier.

"Kiss?" You pout so cutely she can't resist. She presses her lips to yours, teeth occasionally grazing, unable to contain your smiles.

“I love you.” She confesses, not waiting for an answer as she drags her kisses all over your face, and you giggle as you surrender to her attack.

Your heart swoons at the sight of her kissing down your chest before she rests against your stomach.

You promise to be more careful.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff

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sculptice · 9 months ago

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Body Sculpting Equipment | Wood Body Sculpting | Face Sculpting

Sculpt your body to perfection with cutting-edge Body Sculpting Equipment. Explore SculptICE® advanced technologies for targeted toning and contouring, empowering you to achieve your aesthetic goals with precision and confidence.

#body sculpting #body sculpting equipment #body sculpting tools #face sculpting #ice sculpting body #face sculpting tool #lipo body sculpting

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euphoricfilter · 1 year ago

Text

standing next to you:

pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers

summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you

word count: 4k

tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!

notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.

The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.

For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.

Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.

There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.

Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind—the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.

Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.

He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.

It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.

Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.

Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.

Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.

Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.

So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.

Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.

You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.

It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.

You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.

You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.

You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”

He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.

“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.

“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.

Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.

“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”

“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.

“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.

Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.

Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.

You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.

“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.

“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.

Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.

“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.

“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”

You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.

You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.

“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.

“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.

“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.

“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.

“Because of your incompetent husband?”

You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.

“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.

You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.

He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.

“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.

You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.

Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.

A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.

Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.

“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.

You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.

Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.

“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.

“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.

“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.

He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.

You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.

“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.

He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.

“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.

“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.

Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.

“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.

Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”

You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.

“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.

“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.

“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.

You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.

“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”

“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.

Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.

“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.

“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.

He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.

“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”

He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.

“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.

“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”

“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.

“Louder” he shakes your head a little.

“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.

“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.

“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.

“And who do you belong to?”

You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.

“Who?”

You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”

“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”

You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.

He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.

“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.

“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.

He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.

“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.

You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.

He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.

“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.

“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”

Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.

Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.

“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.

Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.

“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.

He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.

His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.

“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.

Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.

“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.

“I can’t” you breathe.

“Run away then” he says, “with me”

Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.

“Jungkook” you warn.

“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”

You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.

“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.

“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”

Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”

You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.

You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”

Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”

The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.

“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.

“I won’t” he promises.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts non idol au #bts

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catfern · 6 months ago

Text

lap dog.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader x abby anderson

music: master of none - beach house

word count: 2k

summary: abby and ellie are best friends, never more. when you come into the picture, competition bleeds into something else entirely.

warnings: porn, ellabs, sub-ish!abby, sub-top!ellie, dom-ish!reader, marijuana use, got high and watched challengers this is what happened

fern says ⎯ this one goes out to @heavenbloom & @atyourmerci the only two pookies keeping me going at this point! rawr!

it was innocent, at first. you suppose.

a pit sinking in your stomach at the all-too-looming feeling of a foreign school, the kind smile offered was an olive branch. white teeth, skin blemished only with the soft indents of a splattering of freckles and moles, it put you at ease. this definitively friendly tour guide.

“hey, m’abby.” the squeeze of her hand was gentle, but firm. practiced. her eyes on you felt like a studied gaze, a flicker over your body that made your ears burn, your name on her tongue a syrupy temptation. “i’m s’posed to show you around, so…”

you clung to abby, in your first few weeks. you would’ve felt bad, this dependence on your only friend growing, if she hadn’t returned the sentiment almost tenfold.

hey

want coffee before class?

- abby

the blaring screen of your phone dunking on you like ice water, bleary eyes and a dopey smile typing a response in the early morning manufactured darkness of your dorm room.

she’d show, fifteen minutes later, in all the gloried aftermath of her morning run, shoving the iced latte at you with easy conversation. she’d wait on your bed while you dressed, poorly pretending to be wildly interested in her instagram explore page.

ellie happened later.

“she hot?”

“i don’t wanna answer that.”

the ball hits the roof, before bouncing with a mean thwack into the tangle of abby’s hair. ellie pulls herself up on the bed, teetering on her tired forearms with a servile smile. “come on,” the rasp in her voice gives her a malignant edge, “objectively, is she hot?”

abby looks at her, swallowed in her gaze even from across the room. she rolls her eyes before returning to roughly running a brush through her hair, “she’s nice.”

“fucking prude!” the palm of ellie’s hand comes down like a rough punishment, a sting on the sculpt of abby’s shoulder that rings a small wince. her laugh is complimentary, “what? she a secret or something?”

abby shakes her roommate’s sliding hands off her, fighting her languid, teasing embrace, “no, no, she’s just- i dunno.”

a light hum fills the quick silence in the air, ellie pulls away.

“i wanna meet her.”

“what? ellie —“ abby whips around quick, something akin to a firm, stubborn fear tracing her face, “no. no.”

you shift on the floor, the scratchy carpet under your ass stinging with a strange itch. the joint is hanging weakly between ellie’s lips as she holds the lighter to it, off-handed smoke swirling and ebbing in the close air of the room. abby is sequestered on her bed, trying her hardest not collapse in on herself.

you’re taking the joint from ellie, ellie. her iced gaze flickers between the both of you, something unrecognisable sitting, gnawing at her very soul.

“so,” smoke spills from your mouth, dripping from your lips like it never wanted to leave you. you hold the blunt, firm between two fingers as you trace your thoughts with your hand, “what is this?”

ellie laughs faintly, her eyes meeting the terror of abby’s briefly, before falling over the way you’re sat, cross legged, the thin fabric of pyjama shorts riding up your thigh. her laugh is dopey, saccharine laced with a bite, “what d’ya mean?”

you’re pinned, like a dead butterfly behind glass, inspected. abby leans forward, a pique of interest crawling up her spine, her elbows digging nasty red welts into her knees. they both, as if practiced, stare, like careful animals on the other side of a zoo exhibit fence. they know they cannot touch you, but they deign still to think they can try.

you laugh, something elevated, untouchable, bringing the joint back to your mouth, “you two — you seem, close.”

a shared look of panic and something deeper sets between them, ellie stretching her legs to knock yours as she plucks the joint from you, shooting abby a teasing glance. she pats the battered carpet next to her, “come on abs.”

the nickname is a taunt, an echo of some wild, buried intimacy that ellie wanted — needed you to know. she’s answering your question, in a way.

abby slides off the bed, scooting over at her roommate’s beck and call. she takes the blunt tenderly, leaning back and letting ellie hold the lighter to her, the movement eased, familiar. she shakes her head, “we’re friends.”

you smile, lopsided, a low-flying buzz hanging in the air. your body loose, uncaring, as you canvas the look ellie has on her face. pensive.

“right.”

“what?”

“nothing, i just - i don’t believe you.”

“it’s true!” the laugh shared between them is something too close for comfort to be true, but abby persists, “we grew up together, we play tennis together, we’re friends.”

“well…” the soft abrade of ellie’s voice was a testament, a challenge. for you, it was a tantalising peak behind a curtain so well guarded, a piece of themselves so rarely shared. for abby, it was an unnecessary torment. she looks at ellie, she sees the competition in her eyes. abby knows the sting of shared desire, of the punishing hand of her best friend. the brunette pouts, studying her roommate’s look of resigned pleading, “come on! i think it’s a — it’s a cute story. abby had a little, teensy crush on me when we were kids.”

“oh fuck off!” the edge in the swell of abby’s voice demanded attention, commanded respect in the abhorrent violence of something unexpected. the closeness of the two sat thick, heady in the face of the thin layer of smoke in the air. ellie’s hand slips from her thigh.

a silence befalls the three of you, foreign and raw in the space of casualty. the air of times past is not lost on you, as you watch the humiliation creep through abby’s skin in red flushes. ellie’s advantage.

“i think it’s cute,” you muse with a misaligned shrug.

— a beat.

“really?” that changes everything, in a pathetic sort of way. abby has the eyes of a puppy, a tortured lap dog as she looks at you, wide and wild, tamed on your word. a certain honey of victory sits in her stomach.

“yeah, i mean -“ you laugh, such an ardent reminder of their own pursuits of you, fresh and recognisable. of who stands on their feet, and who kneels before them. “i just don’t intend to be a homewrecker.”

“we’re not together.” they choir together in rehearsed concordance, in defence of themselves. strange, how their voices melt together in a harmony so well matched.

you hum, as if to challenge them quietly, before standing. the stretch of your legs provides a curious path, their gazes dripping upwards of you like forlorn magnets, drawn to your body. you look down on them with a quirk of your brow, pulling your pj shorts to rest higher on your hips, before perching yourself on the edge of ellie’s bed.

they look at you as if they had just lost you, something childishly snoopy glinting, matched, in their eyes. your hands run along the scratch of ellie’s bedsheets, exploring, before you pat either side of you, gently.

in a scramble, they pull themselves to your side, infringing on your summoning. ellie pressed to your left, abby to your right, inescapable, the both of them.

you meet abby’s gaze, swallowed nearly in the startling kindness of the blue of her iris. she looks so meagre, so shrunken and teetering on the edge of your existence, a planet in orbit of a raging star.

gently, with the softness you label so deserving of her, your hands wander, pulling her in, letting the chasteness of her lips fall away into a fevered triumph, the taste of the salt of her lips and the bitterness of the weed a chaser to her touch.

ellie, sat so humbly, waits in a quiet, angry defeat, her fingers ghosting the edge of your bare thigh. oh, to be the only child, so unused to sharing. impatient and derivative, she almost whines, a soft call for your attention. you answer, to the surprise of both, abby’s taste still on your lips, something so familiar.

she’s more callous than the girl she so aptly loves and despises, her movements quick and domineering as she seeks to own you. abby, tasting you and wanton for nothing, slips down to the stretch of your neck, pressing her kindness into your skin with the pliant pull of her teeth.

ellie’s hands are needy creatures, pulling over you like the ebb and flow of a vicious tide, snaking up your shirt for just a taste.

“..fuck.” your heavy breath fills the room like smoke, a complying pass for her to tease the stretch of her fingers under the waistband of your shorts. control was just a fleeting delusion, your hand grabbing at the bone of her wrist, “come on, let her go first.”

ellie, once again left waiting; abby, so all consumed with the pulse of your neck, is despondent, desperate, her breath shaky in your ear as her hand slips beneath the fabric, a soft groan dripping from her lips at the velvet of your walls enveloping her.

she’s slow, languid and unpracticed with her indigent circles around your clit. a sweet intoxication hanging heavy in the air, you laugh, coy and soft and somewhat mean. you had thought abby bigger, more unobtainable than she really was.

here, she is human. here, she bares her unspoken inexperience.

you pull a desperate, evil ellie from the swirl of your tit, so keen to pull your attention away. your thumb mindlessly swipes along the hang of her bottom lip, her breath warm and savouring in your sunlight.

“y’know what to do?” ellie nods into the palm of your hand, eager to show off, to please. “teach her.”

leaning up on the back of your elbows, you watch through a half-lidded honeyed gaze as ellie slinks down, conflicted. a certain affection in her touch, deeper than that of anything else, she finds abby’s fingers in the heat of your legs, leading them along the strings of your impulse.

a shaky moan leaves abby’s lips, the callous of ellie’s fingers along her own a dream unfounded. she can feel the press of her chest against her back, her breath in her ear, her chin on her shoulder. this was not unlike of them, not a foreign feeling, but new, still. the need in ellie’s throat is rotted, estranged to her touch.

they assess you on the bed, like an experiment. the arch of your back is artwork along the ripple of the sheets.

“go slow, you see that?” ellie’s voice is low in abby’s ear, tracing the breathy moans you drip beneath them. “just like that — good, abs. good girl.”

ellie’s hand slips from abby’s, running your slick along her arm, your thigh, a trail up your stomach as she comes to palm your tits, her mouth finding your neck, biting down on your wicked pulse in such difference to the other.

abby is lost, chasing feelings that no longer belong to her. she watches you writhe under her touch, under ellie’s touch. something wanting sits in her throat, unknown to her.

ellie is her best friend. but this — mean competition abandoned, this is something else. something buried, aged, ready to rear its head.

the blonde brings her lips to the dip of your stomach, pressing a soft trail up the curve of your hips. unsure of what she wants, what she’s looking for on the crest of your body, she presses the crook of her nose into your naval, her fingers burning, picking up their speed.

ellie comes to her, drawn to her like to her a flame. pressing a kiss to the curve of your breast, she finds the cotton of her friend’s lips so easily, as if fated. messily, they meet along the plume of your ribcage, you, an instrument for their own aches. esoteric, their tongues swirl on your skin, on their lips, tracing each other as if they had never known the other at all.

like dogs tugging at meat with the bare of their teeth.

homewrecker, indeed.

⎯ kofi

taglist; @whore4abby @endureher @beemillss @afraidofheightss @sentimentalyellow

#ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #ellie x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x abby anderson #ellabs x reader #ellie williams #abby anderson #ellie x fem reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader

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ihave-atummyache · 6 months ago

Text

versace on the floor

hwang hyunjin one shot/imagine

NSFW!! 18+++ MINORS DNI

summary: the most stunning couple at the award show… in matching versace, of course.

3.2k words (OFFICER I CAN EXPLAIN)

(this is the best foreplay i have ever written oh m y g o s h)

i couldn't decide who your best friend is dating in the group so just make it up yourself>_<

also u all already know that i think hyunjin is just the nastiest mfer ever so i, once again, completely indulged that

"I'm insanely lucky," you mumble out, staring straight ahead as your boyfriend walks with his band down the red carpet. Your best friend chuckles beside you before snapping in front of your face.

"Earth to y/nnnn, snap out of it. We get it, you're obsessed with your boyfriend," she playfully rolls her eyes but still pulls out her phone to record her own boyfriend, right up there with Hyunjin in his own designer brand.

"Now who is obsessed with their boyfriend?" you tease and she chuckles but you both turn your attention back to the boys when they start getting bombarded by questions.

You glance at your boyfriend and you can’t help but let your eyes trail down his body. He has on the prettiest Versace suit that you have ever seen. It's just an all black suit with some tiny gold detailing on it but you swear he has never looked more mouth watering. His long black hair is slicked back away from his face and the icing on the cake is the black polish adorning his nails and, of course, his rings.

When you let your eyes trail back up his body, they meet Hyunjin’s and he has the most smug grin on his face that you have ever seen. Of course he caught you checking him out but, in your defense, everyone is checking him out right now.

But he would describe you the exact same way. You're dressed in a black sculpted column Versace gown. The gown itself is pretty simple, but the jewelry adorning your skin is what really makes the outfit. Just like your boyfriend, you're head to toe in Versace, as per his request. Down to the hairpin in your hair.

You bite down on your red lip and Hyunjin's gaze drifts to your lips for a moment before he quickly turns his attention back to the interviewer.

You and your best friend aren't able to meet back up with the boys again until the afterparty. You're at the drink table, grabbing a glass of champagne before you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around your waist and your boyfriend's scent fills your nose.

"I think we're the best dressed couple here tonight," you chuckle against the rim of the glass and you feel him chuckle in response before placing a gently kiss to the side of your neck.

"Mm. I agree. But did you have to wear that lipstick color?" He asks and you frown before turning around in his arms and locking eyes with him. His grip tightens around your lower back when your eyes meet.

"You don't like it?" You can hear the pout in your own voice but Hyunjin immediately shakes his head.

"No, baby. I love it. Maybe a little too much," he leans into your ear, making sure nobody around you can hear you, "I've been hard since I saw you while walking the red carpet. I can't stop imagining those lips around my cock," he whispers into your ear and you choke on a sip of champagne, coughing slightly.

He chuckles and tucks a strand of hair that had fallen loose behind your ear. You clear your throat before taking another sip of champagne. Your boyfriend grabs the fluke from you and downs the rest of it, having no patience for you to babysit your drink.

"Oh no! Your drink is empty. Looks like we should leave," he smiles innocently at you before wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you towards the back door. (lol)

"Wait! Shouldn't we tell someone we're leaving?" you object, glancing over your shoulder but nobody is looking your direction.

"They'll figure it out," he replies before opening the backdoor and peaking out. There's nobody but a security guard there and Hyunjin asks if he can call a car for you two which he immediately does. The car arrives in less than five minutes and you're back at your hotel in less than fifteen.

You step into the elevator and press the button to your floor. Hyunjin's hand wraps around the back of your neck and before the doors can even close, his lips are on your's.

It feels like he's devouring you, like he's going to swallow you whole. But honestly, you love it. The kiss is wet and sloppy and you can't help letting your hands thread into the back of his hair, tugging at the strands.

The groan that leaves his mouth and enters yours is deliciously erotic and you pull him impossibly closer. The two of you are basically one entity but it still doesn't feel like you're close enough.

The elevator door dings and Hyunjin pulls away from you. Your lipstick is every where. It's all over his chin and lips, the tip of his nose, literally every where. You try not to imagine what you look like right now. As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out and runs his thumb under your bottom lip, presumably fixing some misplaced makeup.

"You're so fucking beautiful," the words leave his lips and he drags you behind him as he makes a beeline for your hotel room, pulling out the keycard and pushing into the room.

He immediately turns you around and pushes you against the door. He reaches one hand up and locks the hotel deadbolt. As his hand trails back down the door he brushes the same hair from earlier out of your face again before reattaching your lips.

You let out a moan when his thigh finds its way between your legs. However, you can barely get any friction due to the dress being custom made and practically skin tight.

Much to your surprise, Hyunjin's hands make their way to the slit up the side of your thigh and before you can stop him, a loud rip echoes through the room.

"Hyunjin!" You exclaim and he leans in again to kiss you, his thigh pressing fully into your core this time.

"Jinnie, this is so expensive!" you object, pushing his shoulders away from you to glance down at the damage but he resists, pulling a moan from you when his grip tightens on your hips and his thigh pushes harder against your core.

"I can afford it," his voice is deep in your ear and he uses his grip on your hips to grind you against his thigh. A whimper leaves your mouth and you let your head fall back against the door.

Maybe it's from the half glass of champagne or maybe its from how good your boyfriend looked tonight but you feel more riled up than you ever have in your life.

"You're so fucking hot," you breathe out, your eyelids low and he tears his eyes away from where you're sat on his thigh to lock eyes with you.

One of his hands leaves your hips but you continue to grind against his thigh, wedged between your legs. He grabs your jaw gently before leaning forward and licking your parted lips. It's simultaneously the nastiest and hottest thing that he has ever done.

"You were made for me," he grunts out before pulling you off the door and turning you around, guiding you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fall backwards. He wastes no time in climbing over your body and biting at the exposed skin of your chest.

The strapless dress made it easy for him to pull the top down slightly, letting your breasts spill out and also be the next to fall victim to Hyunjin's mouth.

He wraps his lips around one hardened nipple, sucking and nipping, making your hips rut up into his pelvis. You make slight friction and he lets a deep noise escape his throat before he lets his hips relax and you are able to fully grind against him.

The more you grind, the harder and faster he bites and sucks at your chest, sure to leave marks that won't go away for days.

"You're gonna make me cum in my pants," he chuckles into your ear before sitting back on his haunches and staring down at you. He is even more covered in your red lipstick than he was in the elevator, it's all over his neck and jaw and face and you can't help but thinking how fuckable he looks right now.

"We already ruined the dress. Might as well ruin the pants too," you tease and he glances down at where he had ripped your gown. He places his hands on your thighs, and you jump slightly at the feeling of the cold rings on your flush skin. He slowly lets his perfectly manicured hands slip under what's left of the fabric until he reaches your hip bones.

"No panties?" he raises an eyebrow at you and you gulp, shaking your head as he begins to rub circles on your hips with his thumbs.

"Been wanting me to hike this pretty dress up and fuck you all day, haven't you?" he teases, letting his hand trail towards where you need him most. His finger tips finally make contact with your wet cunt and you can't help the sound that you let out, a mix between a whine and a whimper.

"I love how wet you get for me," his voice is gruff and you dont have time to reply before he plunges two fingers into you and immediately curls them to hit the spot that has you seeing stars and squirting on him every single time.

"J-Jinnie, you know I w-won't last long if you d-do that," you whine out but he doesn't listen, continuing to plunge his fingers in and out of you.

"I want you to cum until you can't think . You deserve it for looking so damn good tonight. There aren't enough words in any language to describe how gorgeous you are," His words have your head falling back against the mattress and your hands gripping the sheets.

He moves his other hand to the already ripped fabric and rips it further, exposing you to him fully before he leans down and places a kiss to your clit. You back arches off the bed at the contact.

His tongue begins to lap at the bundle of nerves as his fingers continue to brush against that soft spot inside of you.

"J-Jinnie, baby, I'm-I'm-"

"Shh, I know, angel. Cum for me. I want you to squirt on my face. Can you do that?" He interrupts you and you nod vigorously before he lets his mouth reattach to your clit and he speeds up his attack, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you can't hold it anymore.

"Right thereeee, I'm cumming. Fuck I'm cumming," you start to ramble and he hums in response, the vibration adds to the stimulation and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face, the bed, and yourself. He pulls his fingers out but continues to lap relentlessly at your clit, elongating your orgasm.

"Okay okay okay okay," your hands wrap into his slick hair, trying your best to pull him away from your poor pussy. Between his strong grip on your thighs and your weakened state from just having an oragsm, you're useless against him, especially when he gets pussy drunk like this.

"Jinnie, hurts," you whimper out and he replaces his mouth with his fingers, rubbing against your swollen and overstimulated clit.

"Shh, baby. I know, I know. Just want you to cum one more time with me down here, okay? That's all then I'll let you take a breather," his voice is soft and any other time, you would know better than to fall for it but you're already so out of it that you're getting caught right under his spell.

You let out a disgruntled noise, almost an uncomfortable sound when your next orgasm falls over you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and tears begin to fall from your eyes. Hyunjin is happy he switched techniques and is able to see you in all your glory right before his own eyes.

The tears falling down your cheeks and the way your face looks in that moment is more beautiful than any art piece he has ever laid eyes on.

He stops rubbing at your clit when your body starts to jerk under his touch. He pull his hand away and rubs soothingly at your hip, his other hand trailing up your body before it wraps around the back of your neck and he pulls your limp body up to sitting.

"Are you okay?" he leans in, his forehead against your's as his hand that isn't supporting you creeps around your back and unzips the dress. He had some how managed to rip it so severely that he didn't even have to unzip it all the way for the fabric to fall away from your body.

He pulls the ex-dress away from your body and tosses it on the floor. Your wobbly hands reach out and you begin to undo the buttons on the front of his Versace suit jacket. He patiently waits for you to finish before shrugging the jacket off and tossing it onto the floor with what used to be your dress. He makes quick work of his belt next, your eyes focused on his pretty fingers and blushing slightly at the realization that those same fingers were in you, moments ago.

This leaves him in just his tank top and suit pants. The pants squeeze his waist and legs perfectly and with the removal of the jacket, it accentuates his waist in the most delicious way.

You can't stop your hands from reaching out and trailing your fingertips down his toned shoulders and arms. You smile to yourself when the goosebumps rise on his skin, satisfied that your touch has that much of an effect on him.

"You drive me crazy. Take it off for me," he glances down to his own body and your hand dips into the waistband of his pants, pulling his tank top free and slowly pushing it over his head.

Once the fabric is over his head, you let your hands gently trail down his chest and abs, just like you had done with his arms. Once you reach his happy trail, you curl your fingers, letting your nails scrape against the skin, little red marks immediately showing up on his pale skin.

He sucks in a sharp breath before grabbing both your wrists in one of his hands, the other making its way into your hair. He wraps his hand into your hair, the hairpin falling from it's place, and pulls back, exposing your neck to him.

He leans down, his breath hot against your skin and you bite your lip in anticipation. Hyunjin's lips are amazing, no matter where they are on your body.

"You're perfect," he presses a kiss to your throat, making you swallow at his touch, "An angel on earth. You're fucking perfect," he continues, sinking his teeth into the spot right next to your throat before pressing a kiss over the same spot.

"Hyunjin. Just fuck me already," impatience is dripping from your voice and he chuckles, pulling his face away, his grip still in your hair. A small smile sits on his face as he studies your ruined makeup.

"What makes you think you're in charge here? Plus, didn't you say you need a breather? Are you that desperate for my cock? Poor thing," he feigns a pout at you and you feel a blush creep up your neck before he lets go of your hair and slides onto the bed next to you.

"Be patient, my sweet girl. We have all night," he smirks at you as you lock eyes with him again over your shoulder. Despite his words, he rearranges the pillows and lays back, propping his head up. His nimble fingers snap open his slacks button before sliding down the zipper and you already know what he wants without him having to say it. You reach over and grab the waistband of his pants, sliding them down his legs. Even his underwear are Versace and you can't help but chuckle lightly at this before sliding them down as well.

"Ride me, sweetheart," he pats his thighs before you swing one leg over, straddling his hips. Your cunt was only a few centimeters away from touching his cock, red and ready to be inside of you. He can feel the heat radiating from you and it's taking everything in his power to not just pull you down to take his full length.

However, he doesn't have to wait much longer because your patience is also wearing thin. You reach between the two of you, sliding his cock through the slick created from your previous orgasms. You finally line yourself up and slowly begin to sink down onto him. Despite your preparation, the stretch is still slightly painful, making you pause. Hyunjin's hands rub soothing circles on your thighs, trying his best to get you to relax.

"You can do it, love. Just a little more. Doing so good for me. Taking my cock like you're fucking made for me," his words fill your ears and encourage you. You lean forward, pressing your hands to his chest before letting out an exhale and fully sinking down onto him.

“There you go, just like that. Good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks before wrapping his hands under your ass. He pulls your body up before letting you sink back down onto his cock, a groan leaving both your mouths.

“Just for you. I’m such a good girl for you,” you ramble as you begin to bounce up and down on your boyfriend’s cock. Grunts continue to leave your’s and his mouth, mixed in with different nicknames as you speed up your pace.

Hyunjin’s hands make their way up your back, slightly pulling you forward before he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth again. The new angle makes his cock hit you completely different as well as rubs your clit against his pubic bone, creating the friction you need.

“Shit baby. So wet around me. Clenching already? Already gonna cum for me again?” His voice is muffled in your ears but you nod and that’s all the conformation he needs before he wraps his arms around your back again and pulls your chest against his.

He bends his knees and plants his feet on the bed before suddenly speeding up and fucking up into you like a madman. The change in speed has uncontrollable moans leaving your lips and you can’t even warn Hyunjin before you’re cumming again, squirting all over his stomach, hips, and thighs.

“There you go, atta girl. Good. Doing so good,” he’s mindlessly praising you, pressing kisses to your temple as you come down from the strongest orgasm of the night.

It only take about ten seconds before he starts to move inside of you again, making you jump and try to get out of his grip.

“J-Jinnie w-wait,” you whine and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“What did I say, darling? I’m not done making you cum yet. Plus we aren’t done until I’ve painted this sweet cunt with my own cum,” he punctuates his sentence by thrusting up into you one time, making a squeal leave your lips. He chuckles before pressing another kiss to the side of your head.

“God, I love you,” he whispers into your hair and you reply by pressing a kiss to his shoulder, not yet in the right headspace to form real words.

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ribbonprincess · 6 months ago

Note

I’d like to put in an ask. Rafe and his kook!girlfriend in Italy 💕🩷 or on some sort of vacation. Maybe a little bit of what you would think it would be like to travel with him or sightsee. Smut if you’re comfy with that! Happy Friday 🎀

note:well...now you know your Italian girl can't say no to that. Also,so honored to see you in my inbox!!

🍦࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

"I'm telling you!They have the best ice cream ever,there's nothing like it" You're laying on Rafe's chest as you both chill on your family yacht during a hot summer day,talking his ear off about a ice cream shop you used to go to as a kid that has the best flavours and creaminess when it comes to the cold treat. "We'll go there after dinner maybe,sounds good?"

You nod at his words,tracing random shapes on his sculpted chest "you look so good in this bikini" his hand trails over the smooth skin of your stomach and between your breasts,stopping at the gold "R" that sits around your neck "thank you...I bought specifically for this" The chuckle that comes from Rafe's mouth is almost immediate "yeah well good choice,sweet girl" his lips hover yours for a couple of seconds before he pulls you in for a kiss. "you smell so good,doll" His left moves under your side,untying your bikini at best of his ability while blind and one handed,his other hand tangles itself in your hair pulling you impossibly closer.

"rafey..." You're whining as he pulls you into his lap, immediately tugging one of your nipples into his mouth "fuck-" your boyfriend makes sure to pay equal attention to both buds before his mouth trails lower,pressing a trail of wet open kisses down to your bellybutton until he tugs at the bottom of your bikini. "take this off, princess- c'mon" You quickly remove the white piece of fabric,throwing to your side as Rafe's hands tug at your thighs,moving you over his mouth "be a good girl and sit down." You're slightly hesitant until his tongue licks a stripe from you hole up to your clit "fuck"

Your body falls over his involuntarily,making you shiver as his tongue quickly moves over your aching hole. His tongue circle the area teasingly before he pushes it in,making you clench around it "jeez- Rafe..." your hands find their way into his hair,tangling into the blonde curls as you shakily grind onto his face.

One of his hands blindly moves upward,squeezing at one of your breasts before trailing upwards,two of his fingers nestle into your mouth,pressing down on your tongue as you cover them in saliva making sure they're covered in it just like Rafe likes. He remove the digits out of your mouth moving them over your clit,rubbing slow circles over it.

"c'mon,baby. Not using my fingers today,come on my tongue" You don't know what it is,maybe his words or the way his voice is raspier than usual,maybe the hot sun on your back,maybe his tongue or the slow but firm circles on your clit; but you find yourself getting closer to your orgasm way quicker than usual. "Can feel you clenching,baby- no need to be shy, cum on my tongue" Your hips are grinding into his face,his nose his bumping deliciously against your clit and your mouth is hanging open "fuck,I'm cumming!" Your boyfriend's tongue laps at the sweet juice that's coming out of you,making sure to help you ride out your orgasm as you shake over his face "there's my good girl... Did so good,love. Guess you deserve ice cream now"

#🎀princess #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fluff #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks though #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron blurb

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seospicybin · 1 year ago

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Chan become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (15,7k words)

Author's note: Pls send my birthday wishes to your boyfriend. As always, enjoy and feel free to vent in my inbox :)

CHRIS: Nah, I wouldn't say I'm a playboy [shyly laughs] My best feature? My body [Shows off abs] I'm joking, [laughs] it's my dimples [smiles] I don't have a type. Looks are relative but there has to be a strong physical attraction [Smiles]

In this sunny weather, it wouldn't take long for Chan to get some color on his pale skin.

A little tan will help to make his sculpted abs more defined, especially on camera. He's been working out diligently to present his best look for this show.

Lust Island.

What possibly could this show be about? If he should draw any clues from the name of the show itself, he guesses there'll be physical contact involved in a pleasurable way.

The real reason he joined the show is not solely that he wants to get some action. He can get them anytime, anywhere when he wants to.

Bangchan wants to put himself out there and explore things outside of producing music. He wants to push himself out of his comfort zone. By comfort zone, he means his studio.

Once Bangchan puts his swimming trunks on though, he prepares himself, mentally and physically as his name gets called. It's his turn to enter the villa.

When he thinks about it again, it's not the first time he gets to be filmed, and being in front of the camera, there's no use for him to be nervous.

Bangchan laughs at his cowardly thought and puts on a perfect posture, standing straight and broadening his shoulders that are as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

Bangchan is right to be confident about himself because the girls like what they see when he walks in.

There are four of them waiting by the standing table with bottles of champagne in buckets of ice.

The other male guests are no competition to him, a few inches of height difference is nothing when he's confident with his looks.

He goes to introduce himself, giving side hugs to the male and a kiss on the cheek to the female guests. He does his trick to leave a lasting impression by holding their hands and looking them in the eyes as he says his name.

"You can call me Chris," he says with a smile.

She flutters her eyelids at him, a way to get his attention, and says her name, "I'm Lola!"

Lola is a gorgeous, dark-haired girl who speaks like she's half moaning, some men dig it but Chan, not really.

Chan turns to the other female guest and does the same, "Chris," he shortly introduces himself.

"Jane," she introduces back with a thick British accent and it's good to know that he's not the only one who owns pale skin.

"Love the accent," she says with a smile that showcases her perfect white teeth.

"Likewise," he immediately replies and grabs himself a glass of wine.

CHRIS: This is the first I have been surrounded by this many beautiful people in one place.

To say that he's not the slightest bit attracted would be a lie.

But there are only two of them for now and there'll be more to come, hopefully, there'll be one that attracts him. For now, there's not enough attraction.

However, Lola is refilling his glass without him asking and checking him up and down, doing it not so subtly only tells him that she's attracted to him.

"Thank you," he mutters and has a toast with her.

Two more female guests are entering the villa, one is a stunning blonde with dazzling blue eyes and the other is a tall goddess with golden skin.

The boys are howling in excitement as the selection has expanded. Chan, trapped in the corner with Lola, waves his hand at them.

The blond girl approaches her to hug him, "I'm Dani."

"Chris," he introduces with a smile.

"Australian, huh?" She guesses.

"Guilty!" He says, "What about you?"

"I'm Spanish," she answers which explains the sheer accent in her English, and proceeds to say something in her native language to him.

Once again, Chan doesn't have a type but hearing Dani speak in Spanish does something to him.

"You have no idea what I'm saying, right?" She asks with a flirtatious smile.

"Not at all," he honestly answers and bursts into laughter.

CHRIS: Dani is undeniably gorgeous and so is Alicia, so is Lola, so is Jane... [chuckles]

Another two male guests enter and one of them is sucking all of the female's attention with a nice body, nice teeth, and a height that Chan doesn't have. But he wouldn't let it belittle him. Physical appearance is nothing without skill and Chan has both.

Everyone is waiting for the last guest to arrive and his glass is magically full again, he turns to the side to see Lola smiling at her.

Chan takes the bottle from her to refill her glass for her, he gets interrupted by the loud cheer of everyone welcoming the last guest into the villa.

"Hi, you sexy bunch!" You greet.

The guy standing next to him, who he believes his name is Iain, puts his hand on his shoulder and gushes at the sight of you, "Man, she's so hot!"

Chan agrees with him. He notices the confident strides and a scintillating smile, he likes seeing those things on a girl.

You start going around, introducing yourself with a cheek-to-cheek kiss at the end of the introduction. When it gets to his turn, Chan is already prepared to impress you.

You lean in close as you ask his name, "Hi, what's your name?"

Chan is gobsmacked by the strong eye contact you're making with him, making him lose his train of thought for a while.

"Chris," he answers.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in closer, "Sorry, can you tell me again?"

He understands that you can't really hear him with everyone chatting to each other all at once mixed with the sound of the waves crashing in the background.

It comes to his advantage to lean in close to your ear and tell him his name, "It's Chris."

"Nice to meet you, Chris!" You say but instead of a cheek-to-cheek kiss, you put your hand around his neck and pull him for a quick hug.

The hug only lasts for a few seconds but he's happy with what he got. He agrees that physical appearance doesn't matter much but your body, oh... it's enough to send his mind wanders so far off from his head.

"Gorgeous!" He calmly beams, it sounds strange because it doesn't match the excitement he has when he looks at you.

Chan doesn't want to come on strong on the first meeting, he knows that he has a lot of time to get to know you and vice versa.

"Thank you," you mutter with a smile.

CHRIS: Bright eyes, cute smile... I think I finally found my type. [Grins]

Chan hurriedly grabs the bottle of champagne the second he sees you grab a glass. He delightfully fills your glass with the bubbly wine.

"What a gentleman!" You exclaim with a smile.

He fills the glass just right to not overflow it, "The bar is that low, huh?"

You lift the glass but not taking a sip yet, "I usually go for the bad boys," you share.

Chan is aware that he doesn't have the typical look of a bad guy, that would be Jace with his sleeve tattoos and pierced eyebrow. He feels the need to show you that sometimes what's inside doesn't match with the exterior.

He fiercely looks at you and refills his glass next, "I don't look like one?"

You seem to hesitate to give him an honest answer, "Oh, well..."

Chan tips his head to the side and holds intense eye contact with you, "I can be bad if I want to."

"Yeah?" You say with a tone that sounds a little condescending to him.

That only motivates him to prove you wrong but he keeps his calm and shrugs in response.

You bring your glass close to your mouth and ask, "How bad?"

He grins and runs his tongue along the front row of his teeth, he takes a sip of his wine to make you wait for an answer.

"Why don't you find out?" He dares you with a sly smile.

One corner of your mouth raises higher than the other, forming a killer smirk on your face. You clink your glass with him and say, "Can't wait to find out!"

CHRIS: The eyes, Gosh! There was so much eye contact, it feels like a foreplay already [laughs]

Chan has no clue how the show is going to play out.

Is everyone going to mingle with each other and be free to do whatever they want for the next 30 days? It's possible because everyone is of age and signed the same contracts but he doubts it'll be that easy. It's a TV show, there's always a catch.

The day continues with a tour around the villa, everyone has seen the swimming pools and the small workout area down the beach so it's time to check inside.

Weirdly, everyone is excited about sharing the bedroom, probably because there are five beds and there are ten of them which means, everyone has to find a bed partner.

Chan's eyes dart at you who's sitting on the other bed with Luke, leaning back with your elbows propped against the mattress.

"Oh, it’s nice and quiet," Luke says, testing the bed by rocking it.

You're laughing as your hands fly to your chest, stopping your breasts from bouncing along with the bed.

While everyone else is joining in on the waves of laughter, Chan is busy assessing who else has their eyes on you. Iain is an easy guess but you'll go for someone like Jace, so he has to keep an eye on him too.

CHRIS: My eyes are set on a girl and uh... it's hard not to look at her so I refuse– [laughs] I refuse to share a bed with anyone else but her.

The boys are gathered on the beach and Chan doesn't know for what reason. He sits on the wooden bench next to Pierre with his blonde hair shining under the bright sun.

"Okay, let's cut the chit-chat!" Jace says.

His tattoed index finger is pointing at Luke, "You go first. Who's your number one?"

"Dani. Absolutely, Dani," Luke answers without a beat, and that only shows how keen he is to win her.

It's an open war, Chan reckons but it's good to know who he's up against so he can set a strategy and try to win.

It's Iain's turn and he simply answers, "Dani!"

So that means Chan's guess is incorrect yet it doubts him if Iain has no interest in you.

Sitting next to him, Pierre answers, "Alicia!"

Pierre then uneasily glances at Luke as he also chooses the same girl with him, "But also, Dani."

Luke scoffs at him and says, "She's cute, I know."

"Please, stop glaring at me!" Pierre jokingly says.

So far, there are three votes for Dani and that's not a surprise, she's one hell of an attractive girl, it just happens that she's not quite caught his attention like you do.

Pierre nudges Chan with his elbow, "Your turn, Chris!"

Chan confidently announces your name as his first choice and says it with a tint of possessiveness as if you were already his. He wants to let them know that he's going for what he wants and no one is going to get in between.

"What do you guys think of Lola?" Jace asks with a shit-eating grin.

Despite the tattoos that cover most of his back and chest, Jace is grinning as he asks everyone about his choice of girl.

"Lola is... Lola is cute," Chan says while rubbing his hands together in front of him.

Pierre agrees with him and nods, "Yeah, she's cute."

"I like Lola," Jace coyly admits.

Jace claps his hands together and points at the three men who are going for the same girl, "I see we have three men in a competition for Dani," he says.

Luke half-heartedly agrees, "The three of us are different so..."

It's a relief that Chan doesn't have any competition or that's what it seems, but he gets curious about the three men.

"Are you guys comfortable stepping on each other's toes?" He asks in pure curiosity.

"As long as Pierre doesn't step on me," Iain chimes in with a laugh, "Just look at his feet!"

All of them burst into laughter as Pierre lifts both feet into the air, showing everyone how big they are. He's a basketball player so that explains but Chan indeed doesn't want to be stepped on by those feet.

CHRIS: I say good luck and... may the best man win.

There's time left until everyone has to get ready for the welcome party tonight.

Chan can't relax yet just because he's the only one going after you. Two out of those three men will eventually have to choose another girl and he can't just leave it to luck, he needs to make some moves.

He goes to the dressing room only to find Lola and Jane in there, talking while fixing their make-up. Chan feels like interrupting so he goes to the bathroom next even though he's not sure he'll find you there.

He was too haste to think so, he finds you there leaning close to the mirror and dabbing lip balm on your plump lips. The shape your body takes as you bend over the sink, oh... he reminds himself to calm down.

"Hi," he sweetly greets you.

You see him through the reflection in the mirror and greet him back, "Hi!"

He walks over to the sink and leans his side against it, "How are you?"

You slowly turn to the side facing him while capping the tube of lip balm in your hand, "I'm good, great. You?

"Never been better," he answers.

You softly smile and put the lip balm back into a pouch, "So... What do you think going to happen tonight?"

The possibilities are endless but Chan settles on the simplest answer that fits his agenda, "What's going to happen is you and I share a bed."

You crack a low laugh and put one hand against the sink, "You want us to share a bed?"

But what he needs to hear is your answer, "What do you think?"

You consider it for a moment then say, "We'll see."

That's not an answer he wants, it's not even close to enough. Sure, Chan can play it cool but that's not who he is. Returning from the depth of his thoughts, he notices that you're checking him out from head to toe and doing it not so subtly.

Your eyes travel down his body and the next minute, you trap him in your eyes again.

"Are those real?"

"What?" He asks in confusion.

"Those abs," you say with a shy laugh.

He likes a confident girl but seeing you getting shy is endearingly cute.

"Who knows? It could be cake?!" You joke.

"Pinch it then!" He playfully dares you.

You hesitate for a moment, then gently put your fingertips on the sculpted muscles on his stomach and gasp in awe, "I can't even pinch it."

Keep running your fingertips on his skin and you playfully say, "It's so hard."

Standing this close to you with your hands on me is doing things to him. Chan swallows air and tries to keep it cool, "If you keep feeling my abs, I'm afraid it won't be the only thing that's hard."

You giggle yet you run your fingers down his abdomen, only stopping when they meet the waistband of his swimming trunks. He gets the urge to touch you in return and without needing to command, his hand automatically flies to your waist.

In this proximity, he can smell the fruity scent of your lip balm, sweet and enticing, making him want to taste it on your lips.

"Are you a good kisser?" He asks with his voice suddenly turning lower.

You slightly tilt your head to the side and flutter your eyelashes at him, "Why don't you find out?"

It's so attractive of you to say those words back to him in a low, sultry voice and make them weapons to weaken him. Just so you know, it works.

Chan bites his lower lip, impatient to crash them against yours. He puts his hand on the arch of your back, then slowly leans in closer, closer...

The sound of people coming to the bathroom shatters the moment, you laugh it off and gently push him away, "Try again later," you tell him.

You stop by the doorway and turn to look at him to add, "Only if you're lucky."

CHRIS: That! Right there! That's my type. [Nodding]

The boys are going down to the beach where the party is held.

The theme is Welcome to The Jungle and he dressed as his spirit animal, wolf. He shouldn't feel silly as everyone is also dressed in animal costumes.

The boys each take a glass of drink to fuel up for the night. Jace is the one leading by raising his glass high in the air, "Let's have some fun tonight!" He shouts.

Everyone else is following suit, raising their drinks high in the air and having a toast,

The contestants are only allowed to have three drinks max in one day so Chan doesn't need to worry about getting drunk. one drink is already enough to give him the courage to make a move on you tonight.

"There they are!" Luke says, pointing to the girls making their way down the stairs that lead to the beach.

Chan spots you right away, dressed in a costume of a bird with colorful fur and a pair of majestic wings. Suddenly, he feels like flying toward you.

He couldn't be any faster to get to your side and compliment you, "You're so beautiful!"

You brightly smile and make a pose for him, "Do you like it?"

"Spin for me!" He orders.

You do what he says, spinning on your feet and giggling as you almost stumble on your own foot.

Chan offers his hand to help you steady yourself and grins, "One beautiful love bird, aren't you?"

CHRIS: I'm on the hunt tonight! [Howls] [Laughs]

The music starts playing and everyone gets together in the middle, either dancing or drinking, or both. Chan can't keep his hands off of you ultimately because he was so close to getting a taste of it.

But that's okay, he likes playing this game of push and pull with you. He may have let you out of his arms but never out of his sight, you're only going as far as he let you.

Everyone is excited, a little tipsy, and sexually charged just in time to continue with a game. Lola takes the center and explains how the game works.

"Since we're all dressed like the animals we are..." she gets interrupted by Jace as he roars and bangs on his chest like the animal costume he's wearing.

"Each one of you will take turns to stand here then do your mating call and if any of you animals is attracted," she pauses to look at everyone before continuing, "You can kiss, bite, grab... whatever you want to do!"

It's an easy game to play and everyone is more than ready to answer some mating calls. Since Lola has taken the spot, she plays with her bunny ears and cutely hops on her feet like a rabbit but mewling like a cat.

Chan turns to Jace who's making eyes at her, crawling and walking like the animal he is dressed in, he playfully climbs her body and kisses her neck.

The others are responding with cheers and hoots, watching them going at each other's faces in front of them. It gets everyone impatient to take their turn.

The game is heating when Dani takes her turn, he can see that the three men in competition are getting ready to take their chance to kiss her and perhaps, try to be the best kisser of all.

Dani doesn't do a mating call of sorts, she just stands there and simply says, "Come and get it!"

Pierre dashes to get to her first and earns the first smooch, Iain and Luke are steadily waiting for their turn to kiss. While everyone else is enjoying the raunchy moment, Chan prepares himself because your turn is next. His eyes are following you as you walk to the appointed spot and turn to face everyone, you're laughing in giddy before trying to whistle as loud as you can.

Chan immediately gets up from his seat, but he hears a terrible lion roar from the other direction and sees Iain make his way to you.

He knows Iain still has an interest in you, but this will be his first and the last kiss he gets from you. He glares at Iain as he walks back to his seat.

Ignoring the rage inside him, Chan puts on his vicious eyes and shows his teeth, taking you by surprise as he sinks his teeth into your right breast, then your neck, and finally, your lips.

Iain kind of ruined this first kiss moment but Chan reminds himself that he'll not let anything get in the way of what he wants and this is what he wants. He holds your face with both hands and presses his lips on yours, he greedily kisses you and tugs your lips between his teeth before letting go.

Jace howls the loudest for him as Chan returns to his seat with a triumphant smile, he can taste the win on your lips, he can tell you fancy him more than Iain.

Chan finally takes his turn after Luke and he knows what he needs to do, he's going to howl like a wolf calling for you. He looks at you and says, "Come on!"

You're slyly smiling at him, pretending not to want to come forward but he knows, he knows you want to.

"I know you want it," He fiercely says, addressing you with his eyes.

You get up and break into running at him, not stopping until your body crashes into him in which he gladly welcomes you into his arms.

This is his chance to redo the first kiss so he kisses you, a little gentler than the previous one yet with the same passion. He puts his hands around your waist and without letting go of the kiss, he hoists you, then wraps your legs around his waist.

You yelp in surprise, but that only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth and kiss you deeper as he holds you tightly.

"I'm going to take this bird home," he says after the.

Chan carries you back to your seat like the winning prize you are. He then silently glances at Iain with a bragging smile plastered on his face.

CHRIS: That's right, everyone. Kindly take your hands off of her because she's mine!

A lady walks in and Chan assumes she's the host of the show. She smiles and waves at everyone before talking, "Is everyone having fun?"

Everyone answers with a loud cheer and whistles, showing the host a lot of excitement. They're partying, drinking and they got to grab or bite or kiss, nothing to complain about.

"Okay, okay, I hear you all!" She responds with a knowing laugh.

She claps her hands together and turns on her feet to show a big box behind her, "If you look here, I have a surprise..."

Everyone is cooing in curiosity at the sight of it. Looking at the size of the box, it's safe to say that it fits a person inside.

The host has to wait for everyone to calm down to continue talking, "I am excited to announce that we have a surprise visit to start the show and make it special!"

Jace is whooping the loudest while the girls are whispering, wildly guessing by throwing famous people into the sentences.

"Are you ready to take the party to the next level?" She asks everyone.

"YEAH!!!" Everyone collectively answers.

"Okay then!" She flicks her fingers as a cue, then steps aside.

CHRIS: Whatever it is. Whoever it is. I'm ready. Give it to me!

Chan turns to look at you and asks, "What do you think?"

You shake your head and grin in excitement, "I don't know but it's exciting!"

Everyone is craning their necks and waiting in anticipation as they turn the lights around the box for a dramatic entrance. The door of the box is swinging opening little by little, it's dark to see what's inside, and then the thing inside lights up and chimes.

"OH! FUCK NO!!!" Dani screams and covers her face with both hands.

Chan turns to the side to look at you and you look as devastated as Dani, "You got to be kidding me!" You mutter under your breath.

He looks around and it seems like he's the only one who doesn't get a grasp of what's truly happening. He looks at the cone inside the box again and confusingly asks, "Is that... a speaker?"

You shake your head and whine, "No... It's Lana!"

Lana who? And why is everyone looking either mad or devastated? Would it be embarrassing if he told everyone that he doesn't watch TV or streaming movies like most people?

"Hello and welcome to the retreat!" The cone speaks which Chan has just learned is named Lana.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships," she continues.

Luke gets offended and coughs, "Welp. She's not wrong."

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Lola brushes her hair to the back in frustration and groans, "But I don't want that!"

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

It takes Chan a minute to process that. On the contract it says that he'll spend a month shooting the show, he does the math in his head and his mouth hangs open.

"Nah, nah, nah," Pierre repeatedly chants in denial.

Lana continues with a list of things everyone can't do in the retreat, "No kissing."

You drop your head on his shoulder at the mention of that and mewl.

"No heavy petting."

Jace drops onto his knees and rests his head on Lola's knee.

"No sex of any kind."

His ears perked and his head snaps in your direction, he gets why you're devastated because now he's just as devastated.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Jace groans like he's in indescribable pain with his head tilts up looking at the night sky.

"What does that mean?" Jane innocently asks.

"No masturbating," Chan answers to her since everyone else is too busy mourning on their own.

"No–No flicking the beans, you mean?" She asks with eyes widening in horror.

Chan nods in sympathy and he can feel the agony already. He surely can pass a month without having sex but not getting a release from touching his own body, that's the sadistic part of it all.

CHRIS: I never... I don't think I can go for weeks without— [drops head] [sighs]

"I don't think I can do it," You mutter to him with a painful smile.

Jace is being dramatic once again by saying, "I want to call my mom and tell her to come pick me up."

The tattoos and piercings on his body aren't really reflecting Jace's inner self. It shows an example that a true bad boy doesn't necessarily have to look like it.

Lana cuts off everyone's moans and groans with further announcements.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

That gets everyone in spirit again and Jace immediately sits back on his seat next to Lola, "Cancel it. No need to call my mom!" He shouts at no one.

With that much money, Chan starts to think of things he can buy with it, some producing kits, a new sofa for his studio, and a recording mic he's been wanting to buy. His train of thought is derailed when Lana continues talking.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Okay, that's so presumptuous of Chan to think that he'll win that money remembering that he's in a retreat with other horny people. There's no way that the amount of money will stay the same at the end of the retreat.

"Welcome to the retreat!" Lana concludes and leaves with another chime.

CHRIS: I met Lana and I understand why everyone is fuming [Laughs]

The night takes a hard turn and ends the party for good.

To give the girls time to change because they need more time with the make-up and costumes, the boys are lounging outside by the terrace.

"Oh, there she is!" Iain points at the cone that is now put in every corner of the villa.

Luke leans into the cone and commands, "Lana, go away!"

Chan bursts into laughter and leans back in his seat, "Dude, she's not Siri!"

Pierre is too big to sit on the armrest of the sofa, Chan makes a space for him and tells him to sit there.

"Who's going to sleep with who?"

The three competing guys are looking at each other, it's still unclear which one of them Dani is going to choose.

"Why don't we let them choose?" Jace calmly says that he knows for sure that Lola is going to sleep with him.

And Chan has nothing to worry about because he knows you're going to choose him.

The boys take their pick of bed and Chan chooses the one in the corner next to the big window. He's lying on the bed with hands tucked behind his head, waiting for the girls to come into the bedroom and choose their bed partner.

Alicia comes first and she seems to have made up her mind on the bed next to him which is Pierre's bed.

Chan turns to the side and says, "Nice one, bro!"

Pierre gives him a fistbump as a sign of victory and makes space on the bed for Alicia.

Lola is the next one and it's just what he expected, she jumps onto Jace's bed in which Jace enthusiastically waits with his open arms.

The time he's been waiting for is here, he sees you coming into the bedroom dressed in a cropped white top and shorts.

You're still beautiful to him with a bare face and your hair is down, his heart is beating faster and faster as you make your way to his bed.

Chan takes his hands away from under his head as you climb onto the bed, then pats the space between his legs, "Come here, baby!"

You crawl to him and sit where he asked you to, between his legs with your back resting against his chest. Chan wastes no time to cage you in his big arms, then buries his nose in your neck to drink in your heavenly scent.

His hand accidentally brushes over your breasts and despite that it's accidental, he can see that you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"I usually sleep naked," he shares with you.

You slightly turn your head to the side to meet his eyes, "Me too."

Chan, having not yet processed that he's in a sex retreat is not aware that information will most likely do him no good.

"Are you a good cuddler?" You ask.

He nuzzles his nose into your hair, "Oh, you're in for a treat!"

You comfortably rest your head on his shoulder as he slips his fingers into your hands and intertwines them together, resting them on your stomach afterward.

It suddenly turns quiet when Dani enters the bedroom and Chan is enjoying the drama about to unfold in front of him. He and Pierre exchange glances at each other. Now that Pierre has dropped out of the competition, that leaves Dani with two options left, Luke or Iain.

But it's clear that Dani has come to a decision to share the bed with Luke as she casually gets on his bed, "I'll sleep here," she says.

That leaves Iain with no choice but to sleep with Jane.

"Goodnight everyone!" Jace sweetly says to everyone in the room the second the lights are off.

It's a long day and he's still processing everything that happened but it's all worth it because now, he's sleeping next to you.

Chan puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close until your back meets his chest. He likes how your body molds perfectly into his and you snuggle more against his body, your ass rubbing against his crotch. Intentionally or not, he'll eventually get hard because of you.

You put your hand on his jaw and softly kiss his cheek, "Goodnight!"

He places a long kiss on your cheek in return, "Goodnight!" He says, adding a quick kiss on your shoulder after.

CHRIS: I don't even know if I'd be able to sleep next to a hot girl and not do anything. [Shakes head]

It's morning but the lights aren't on yet.

Chan makes use of the absence of light by cuddling you under the cover, putting his hand around you, and pressing kisses on your bare shoulder, then down your arm.

He hears you humming then softly rubbing your hand on his forearm.

Chan puts his mouth close to your ear, "You're awake?"

You don't say anything but lowly hum as his hand glides down your thigh and gently squeezes on the flesh. Then you turn your head at him and with eyes still closed, you lowly speak, "Nice."

He quietly laughs because you're slurring your words, "What?" He asks.

You turn your head around to whisper it to him so everyone else can't hear it, "Your morning wood."

Chan completely forgot about it but it's too late to hide it, you're probably been feeling his morning wood poking at your ass cheek for a while now. He takes his hand away from your thigh and rests it on your stomach.

"Now I kind of want to see it," you playfully say with a sly smile.

"Mmh... don't worry, you'll see," he seductively whispers to you.

Thankfully, the lights are on and Chan has time to tame his morning wood before he has to start the day.

The cone perched on the small glass table lights up and chimes, "Good morning, everyone!"

It only reminds Chan of the torment he puts himself in. He chooses to stay lying on his bed while you sit against the headboard of the bed with his hand resting on your thigh.

"A reminder that you're no longer in Lust Island and this is the first day of your retreat. Enjoy!" Lana keeps his morning greeting brief yet painful.

Luke groans with a pillow covering his face, "This is like... a nightmare."

Sure, it's hard to stay sexless for a whole month but to say this a nightmare when he sleeps next to a beautiful girl like you, Chan disagrees.

The day starts with working out at the beach with Pierre and he's doing his last rep of push-ups when Jace joins them. He's picking up a dumbbell and groans even before he picks it up.

"I don't know about you but I couldn't sleep much last night," Jace says.

Pierre laughs at him, "Wait, wait, are you—"

"Nah," Jace instantly denies, "I'm just waiting for someone to break the rule first."

Chan sits on the mat with his body coated in sweat, "I bet my money on Luke."

Pierre and Jace hoots at the same time, then slapping each other's chests, "Oh, yeah, damn!"

"Don't you laugh! You're close on second, Jace!" Chan says to him, almost falling over to the back as he laughs.

The hilarity ensues even after Jace starts lifting his dumbbells while standing, facing the vast blue sea.

"What about you, Aussie boy?" He asks.

Chan shields his eyes from the sun with his hand, "What about me?"

Jace shoots him a sly smirk, "Hey, I know, I see everything."

"Oh, yes, yes, he's all over her," Pierre eggs in just to tease him.

Chan glares at him and points his finger at him, "Watch out. I'm sleeping next to you!"

Pierre holds in his laughter, "I won't tell if you don't tell."

Everyone's curiosity is about to get fulfilled as Lana calls everyone to gather in the cabana. Seeing you for the first time after this morning, looking so stunning in a black bikini.

He sits right next to you at the end of the curved sofa with Lana already sitting right in the center of the wooden table.

"I'm nervous," Lola says, even though Lana hasn't come online yet.

Then comes the melodic chime and everyone gets tensed all at once. Seeing everyone nervous, makes Chan nervous too so he puts his arm around you to comfort him.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

There are various answers but everyone is half-heartedly replying to her.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and last night, you were given strict rules to adhere to."

Lana sounds not pleased and Chan wonders if anyone has broken the rules yet. He knows for sure that you and him are not breaking any so he scans to spot any guilty faces.

"Those rules forbid sexual contact of any kind. Regrettably, a few minutes later there was a breach of the rules," Lana informs.

"Ooh..." A few people coo in response.

Chan continues his search for guilty faces, his bet is still on Luke but it could be anyone.

"Does this mean it was last night?" Jane asks, looking the most innocent out of the bunch.

Jace slyly laughs and looks at everyone, "Okay, so, who did it?"

Now Chan is not the only one on the hunt for the guilty ones. Everyone is trying to see what is not visible to the naked eye.

Not long after, the first culprit starts to show herself. Dani is shaking her leg too much and trying not to look everyone in the eyes. The calm on her face gradually falters with each passing second.

"You're smiling," Pierre points out and everyone's attention is turned to her.

Dani can't keep her calm anymore and decides to come clean, "Yeah, it was me."

"Oh, shit!" Jace yells, representing everyone else in the group.

"With whom?" Lola asks.

Dani shakes her head, "I'm not going to name names," she says with a cryptic smile.

Now everyone is wondering who kissed Dani between Luke and Iain, the whole thing turns into a detective game. Who kissed Dani?

"Nope. It's not me," Iain confesses right away and the suspicion is directed at the last person left on the list.

Everyone is only waiting for Luke to admit it and you shift on your seat as immersed in the moment as...

"It was me," you come forward with your hand raised.

It takes him more than a moment to collect himself and convince himself that he heard it right. You have just confessed as the one who kissed Dani last night.

Jace jolts in his seat, "WHAT?"

Pierre leans at Chan and exclaims, "Wow!"

You look at everyone and apologize, "I'm sorry. I don't know... I just didn't think that we'd get caught," you explain.

As you're about to sit back, you turn your head in the direction of Luke, "I'm sorry for being the first to kiss Dani," you specifically apologize to him.

CHRIS: She kissed Dani... [Chuckles] I like that shit [pinches the bridge of his nose]

"This breach of the rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces, reminding everyone that there's prize money to protect.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000."

Chan is getting more pessimistic that there'll be any money left at the end of the retreat. With everyone knowing that someone has broken the rules, it's only about time that everyone takes their turn to do it.

Personally, Chan doesn't care about the money, he has enough but that doesn't mean he will act selfishly by breaking the rules. The word 'selfish' isn't what he wants to be associated with him.

Also, it's not his money in the first place, it's everyone's money, therefore he can't waste money without thinking of the group.

You squeeze yourself into the small sofa he's sitting in and put your hand around him, "Hi," you softly say with a smile.

He looks at you and puts your leg over his knee, putting his hand on the back of your thigh, "Hi!"

You put your hand on the nape of his neck where the beads of water are dripping from the end of his hair from swimming.

"You look good wet," you tell him.

Chan brushes his hair to the back and looks at you, "You look better wet," he says with a sly grin.

It's hard being this close to you and not kissing you. Chan has to actively tell his brain to not give in to the temptations even though it's sitting right on his lap.

"Are you mad?" You ask.

He reckons you're asking about the kiss you did with Dani, "How can I be mad at that?" he asks back.

You laugh in response, "Yeah?"

He rests his head to look up at you, "That's just so hot," he replies.

You put your other hand around him and look into his eyes, entrapped him in your mesmerizing gaze.

Chan's plan is simple: Try not to act selfishly.

Then you happened. You kissed Dani, the most popular girl in the retreat, and then you openly admitted it to everyone. That only shows you have no problem breaking the rules, and added the fact that you're so attractive to him making a lethal combination that would likely lead Chan to act against his plan.

CHRIS: She's not only too hot to handle. I'm afraid, she's also a lot to handle [grins] but in the best way.

To make everyone connect emotionally rather than physically, Lana has set up a workshop in the front yard of the villa.

Everyone is paired up for it and he, of course, is your partner, he expects nothing less than it. Except that Iain gets the chance to be with Dani in this workshop.

A sex expert has been invited to lead the workshop, "Today, we're going to learn about restraint," she announces.

She walks to the center and looks at everyone as she speaks, "This workshop is about learning to slow down, there's so much more to intimacy and physical connections aside from sex."

Today's lesson is exploring each other's erogenous zones, to find the parts of our bodies that are sensitive to sexual stimulation. Chan has no idea if it would help him think less about sex because it seems like it's going to do the opposite to him.

There's a selection of equipment to help, there are feathers, roses, whips, and even melted chocolate on a bowl. You take the first turn, laying on your stomach on the thin mattress so he can start his exploration.

To begin, Chan only wants to use his hand to trace the curve of your body, feeling every inch of your skin with his fingertips.

You look over your shoulder as his hand climbs up your spine and stops at the nape of your neck only to drag his knuckle down your back.

"You're so soft," he murmurs as he puts your hair away from covering your neck.

You flash him a sly smile and hum, "Mmh..."

He takes a feather from the basket and begins to touch your body with it, finding the special spots that make you whimper or squirm.

Or giggle, just like you're doing right now as he tickles your ankle with the feather, "Tickles?"

You nod with your teeth faintly biting your lower lip.

"Turn over for me, please?" He says to you.

You obey and lay on your back, propping both elbows against the mattress to see that Chan has picked up a rose now.

Chan starts at the neck this time, softly touching you with the rose. He notices you lowly humming as he glides it down your chest and the petals are making a trail down your front. Yet he keeps dragging down your inner thigh and you lowly moan.

"Tickles?"

"Uh-huh."

He brings it close to your clothed core, "Right here?"

You're looking him in the eyes as you reply, "Yes."

"Self control and restraint. Two essential parts of today's lesson!" The expert reminds everyone not to get overboard with their explorations.

Before he takes his turn, he takes a dollop of chocolate and smears it across your sternum. Slowly, he leans down to lick it off of you with his slick, hot tongue.

He can hear your stifled breath and your chest heaving as he sucks on the skin on your breast. He finishes with a kiss on your neck and a triumphant smile on his face.

CHRIS: Looking at her laying there and being so sensitive under my touch oh... [hisses] [exhales]

The nervousness gets to him when he lays down on the mattress and puts his hands under his head, surrendering his body because it's time for you to explore now.

You crawl over his body to get the whip from the basket and he guesses, you intentionally pressing on his crotch as you look down on him with the whip in your hand.

"I haven't started but your ears are already getting red," you tell him.

Chan tries to stay calm and closes his eyes for a while to finally come up with a response, "It's the sun."

You laugh at that and begin your exploration by touching his body with the leather whip, without warning, slapping it on his skin.

"How about that?" You lowly ask.

"Not bad," he coyly answers.

You get off his body and lay next to him while the whip is continuing its journey down his body, heading close to his clothed member and again, slapping him on his thigh without warning.

"Harder?" You ask.

But before he can answer, you're slapping on the other thigh, earning a low groan out of him. Without looking, he knows that his ears are getting even redder at this moment.

On his pale skin, you can see the marks you made from whipping him, and decides to switch it to feather. You're looking at him while you're teasing his neck with the feather, he can't lie that his ears are one of his sensitive parts. The hair on his arms stands up as you rub the feather on his ear shell.

"You're so cute," you breathlessly whisper, putting his weakness to your advantage.

He can only look at you and hope that he doesn't fall apart under your touch. You take the bowl of melted chocolate, then sit on his crotch, earning a moan out of him.

You flash him a grin that hints you're up to no good. He watches as you pour the chocolate onto his abs and pick a strawberry, dipping it on the chocolate on his abs before tugging it between your teeth and feeding it to him.

Doing it carefully to not accidentally break the rules, Chan takes a bite of the strawberry without his lips touching yours then you shove the rest of it into your mouth and chew on it.

He assumes that you have done as you sit back on the mattress, you hold his body down with your hand on his chest.

"Nuh-uh! I'm not finished yet," you tell him.

He wonders what else you're trying to do but that's the pleasure of not knowing. He sees you ducking your head onto his stomach to lick the chocolate on his abs.

Your tongue makes a long strip of lick up his abs and another long strip down on the next, you clean the rest in kitten licks, making the best of your time to torture him as his ears are about to explode at how red and hot they are, he lies when he said it's because of the sun.

Chan notices the smear of chocolate on your upper lip, "Come here!" He gestures for you to come close to his face.

You crawl and hover over his body, you stay still as he cleans it for you by licking it. It's not a rule break since it's only his tongue that makes contact with your lips.

"How'd it taste?"

"So, so sweet," he answers.

Sadly, the workshop is over. They know that if they let it on for too long, it's going to turn into one massive orgy.

"Self-control is very difficult but I hope that you can take something out of this workshop and practice it in the retreat," the expert concludes at the end of the workshop.

CHRIS: I learned that she's sensitive on her ankle, her neck, her chest, and I... can't wait to touch her all over again [Chuckles]

There's a lot of seats on the sofa but you choose to sit on his lap. Not that he minds about it, he just can't trust himself when you're this close, especially dressed in a skin-tight outfit that enhances every curve of your body.

You loop an arm around his neck and the other hand is holding a drink, your eyes are always locked in a gaze with him.

"Do you play any sports?"

"Soccer, bowling... uh, pool?" Chan lists the sports he's been playing recently.

You put your drink away so you can use both hands to feel his shoulder blades, "Which sport got you these broad shoulders?"

Chan takes a small sip of his drink before putting it away, "I believe that's from swimming," he answers.

He puts his hand on your thigh with his thumb mindlessly rubbing on the skin as he talks, "I took part in a few swimming competitions in high school."

"Ooh..." you coo in awe, "So, you're good at swimming."

Chan nonchalantly shrugs, then grins, showing his dimples at you.

"What is your best style?"

"Freestyle, butterfly," he casually answers.

"How about breaststroke?" You ask with a seductive smile.

"I'm the best," he answers even though it's kind of vague if you're still talking about swimming style or a different kind of stroke.

It's hard to keep the conversation casual with you, he can't blame you though. It's impossible not to think about sex when he's with you.

"I want to learn the breaststroke from you," you playfully say with a flirtatious gaze.

"How about a private swimming lesson?" He spontaneously comes up with an idea.

With his recent discovery that the back of your thigh is sensitive, he puts his hand there as he says, "I'm going to teach all kinds of strokes."

CHRIS: I just can't keep my head straight when I'm with her. There's just a lot of sexual tension, it's unbearable [sighs]

While everyone else is getting ready for bed, you change into a swimsuit and meet him at the swimming pool. You sit on the edge to take off the mic to not risk it getting wet and damage it, then jump into the pool afterward.

It is supposed to be a swimming lesson but Chan pushes you to the wall and cages you between his arms. You don't seem to mind it though but Chan is unaware of the danger he trapped himself in.

"I think there'll be lots of rule breaks tonight," you say.

Chan glides his hand down to your waist and holds you there, "Well, thanks to you!" He pokes fun at you.

You chuckle at that and put your arms around his shoulders, "What about you?"

You put your hand on his pec and hypnotizing eyes that look right into his soul, "Are you going to break rules?"

You lean in close and graze his nose with the tip of your nose, "Are you going to be good or bad tonight, mmh?"

Chan brushes his hair to the back before diving it back into the water and lifts your leg by the back of your thigh to hook it around him.

He brings his face close to your side and lowly whispers, "Is that what you want?"

You tip your head to the other side, enticing him with your exposed neck, "Mmh, yeah..."

The beads of water trickling down the column of your neck make him give in to the temptation and plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, "You naughty girl!" he says with a laugh.

You put your hands on his chest, "And I know you're just as naughty," you say back while gently pushing him away.

Chan laughs and has you pinned against the wall again, looking at your face glows from the bluish lights of the swimming pool.

He reaches for your face and swipes his thumb across your lips, "I want to kiss you," he says with a hoarse voice.

You giggle and put your hands on each side of his waist, "We can't do that, Chris," you say with an insinuating tone that indicates you're not meant to remind him about the rules.

Your eyes are daring him to cross the line and so he does, he puts his hand under your chin, then leans in to kiss you. The way you eagerly return it, he allows himself to kiss you harder and deeper.

Chan lets out a delightful sigh once he pulls away from the kiss and laughs the moment his eyes meet yours, "That was hot," he comments, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

He's going against his plan to not act selfishly but at that moment, he doesn't think about the money at all. His eyes are looking at your lips and how they're glistening wet, inviting him to kiss it again.

CHRIS: Oh my, Gosh! It's just so hard... it's hard [shakes his head]

Chan closes his eyes and tries to reorganize his thoughts, holding you tightly to help him get a grip. He hoists you against his body and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist.

"You're a good kisser," you compliment with both of your hands around his neck.

He tilts his head up to look at you, "You're a good kisser too."

You tangled your hand in the hair on the back of his head, "I kind of want to do it again."

Chan knows that you're not asking for his permission, he also knows that one kiss won't be enough for both of you. The kiss is explosive and thrilling, giving him a newfound kind of rush that he wants to experience all over again.

You kiss him first and Chan becomes the one who eagerly returns the kiss to you, opening his mouth so he can use his tongue in the mix.

"Mmh..." you moan as you put your lips on his, then slowly let go.

You smile as you put your forehead against him and seductively giggle, "You're so bad, you know that?"

It should be him saying that line to you. Whenever he's with you, he feels like has no sense of self-control anymore, all he wants to do is submit to your wishes.

He puts you down and turns around so he can rest his back, pulling you close to hold you from the back. He hopes that not seeing your lips will help him calm down.

It's when he composed himself he realizes the damage he has done to the prize money, "Okay, I feel the guilt now," he pathetically admits.

With his hands wrapped around your waist, you rub his forearm in the water and say, "We could have done more but we didn't, you know?"

"That's true," Chan agrees because yes, he could have done more than just kisses with you. If he were out there, he would have broken a bed or two with you.

Chan is fond of physical affection, both receiving and giving. It's imperative for him when it comes to connecting and bonding with the person he likes.

It's a bummer that he can't freely do that in the retreat but if he's going to break rules, he'll only do it with one person and that is you.

CHRIS: I want to be good but she brings out the bad in me so... [shrugs]

Chan had barely started his day when Lana gathered everyone in the bedroom.

He enters and sees you already sitting on the bed, he sits on the end to let you hug him from the back, waiting for the cone to light up and chime like she usually does.

"Mmh... so hot!" You gasp as you put your hand across his chest.

"How come you only found out now, mmh?" He jokes.

He knows you're talking about his skin and that's because he was at the beach to swim when Lana called. Also, he knows that it's time for judgment, everyone is going to know about the things he did.

Now that he knows he's about to get exposed, his heart skips a beat as the melodic chime comes from the cone.

"Oh! There she is!" Jane weakly gasps.

Lana hasn't spoken but Chan knows she's not pleased with the news she's about to deliver today.

"I have some disappointing news."

Chan silently swallows air and puts his hands together in front of him. He can see the guilts are coming back and haunting him.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

Everyone coo and all eyes are automatically looking for the guilty faces. Chan can see that he's not the only one breaking the rules, he just can't tell if it's going to make him feel better or worse.

CHRIS: I'm on the hot seat right now. Everyone is not going to be pleased.

Jace leans forward on the bed and rubs his chin, "I'll be honest with you all," he begins.

Jace and his playful smirk is an easy giveaway, Chan can tell that he broke the rules. Lola is also looking nervous as she keeps picking on her nails.

"I spent some money. I kissed Lola last night," he confesses.

Iain sighs and mutters under his breath, "Oh, man..."

"It was all me," Jace says as he glances at Lola, taking all the blame from her.

"I feel a connection so I guess it was worth it... yeah, I'm sorry, you guys," he concludes.

Pierre nods and seems to give him a pass, "Okay."

That seems easy to do and since everyone is on the same ship, Chan reckons that they'll respect his honesty and understand why he did what he did.

It's best to own up to his mistakes quickly than mulling over it so he confesses, "We kissed by the pool last night."

You hide behind his shoulder with your hand resting on the other shoulder.

"Just once?" Jane asks.

Chan looks at you and you take your turn to speak for both of you, "Twice."

"Oh... fuck..." Pierre lowly curses on the bed next to him.

"Is that it?" Iain asks.

He wants to be honest but it's hard when everyone is throwing daggers with their eyes at him. He forces himself to admit it, "I kissed her again. On the bed."

Chan felt guilty on the first kiss but after the second kiss, it got easier for him to rulebreak. As he was spooning you last night, your body was pressed against him and you smelled so good, it just felt right to give you a long, passionate goodnight kiss.

That, he admits is a hundred percent his fault.

"And that's it. No more kisses," you assure everyone before they can yell at him again.

"We're sorry," you end with an apology.

Chan feels grateful that you don't leave him alone, you firmly stand your ground and face it with him.

"That was a waste of money," Iain mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

You take a sharp breath and ask, "Is that all Lana?"

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana informs, sounding so fed up already.

The drama continues as the next rulebreaker comes to light and that is Luke. It’s kind of expected, he's with Dani after all, and committed two rulebreaks. Pierre comes forward with one kiss with Alicia.

Chan is just so relieved that they take the attention away with them and he can breathe now with the glares no longer aimed in his direction.

"All of these rule breaks have made me reassess my retreat strategy," Lana states.

"Oh... she's mad," Lola says with a panicked smile.

"I have now decided to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting from these rule breaks," she informs.

Chan turns his head to look at you and sees you cringe at the shocking announcement.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000."

Lola gasps with her hand flies to cover her mouth, "We might as well pack up our bags right now," she says.

You both have just now realized the damages done to the prize money. You nuzzle your head into his neck, feeling bad from the guilt.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000," Lana updates.

CHRIS: The bill turned up and we're like whoa! [Eyes widen] I guess yeah... we spent quite a lot.

Now it's the perfect time for him to swim at the beach.

Chan needs to cool his head down and let the seawater wash away his guilt of spending that much money on three kisses, he can do so much with $18,000.

He's swimming far off the shore and when he walks back to the villa, Jace is laughing at him.

"I thought you were swimming back to Australia, dude!" He says him while brushing his long blond hair to the back.

Chan doesn't see that Luke is there too until he arrives at the top of the stairs, "I thought about it, yeah," he playfully responds to him.

Chan then sits on the lounger next to him and dries his hair with a towel. He leans back on the lounger and turns his head at him, "I was right that you'll be the second to break the rules!"

Jace snickers, "Damn right, I am. It was worth it."

Luke rubs his oiled body and says, "Yo, I was the one in the hot seat."

Chan laughs at him, "And I thank you for taking everyone's attention away."

"You owe me!" Luke says.

Jace points at Chan with his head lolling to the side, "You know what? I think you'll need a loan soon," he jokes.

Chan shakes his head and that sounds plausible with how much money he spent in one night. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he hisses in response, "Nah..."

Truthfully, that would be a lie. Chan has not yet found a way to try to stick with the plan but at the same time, he wants to always be close to you but it's dangerous once he gets close to you.

Chan needs to work on his self-control and for a start, he needs to put a safe space between you and him.

CHRIS: You know what? I'll not break any rules from now on... [uneasily glances side to side] Hopefully.

First thing in the morning, Chan gets handed a hard task when he steps into the bathroom.

"Baby, please, help me!" You sweetly say with a tube of sunblock in your hand.

Chan has no other option but to comply and think of it as a test of self-control. He takes the sunblock from you as you slightly bend down with your hands on the edge of the sink.

"Get in there! Don't be shy!" You playfully tell him as he hesitates to rub over some sunblock on your ass cheeks.

"Okay, okay," he replies, rubbing the cream on the ample flesh of your rear, and not going to lie, he likes what he's touching.

Chan notices that you're looking at him through the reflection in the mirror and he senses that you know what's been happening the last few days.

"You say you're a good cuddler..." you say.

He rubs the rest of the sunblock down your arms, "I am," he assures.

You look over your shoulder at him, "But you barely cuddled me last night," you say with a pout.

His heart flips seeing you adorably complaining about the lack of cuddles and he can't help but smile. He knows he shouldn't put a space all of a sudden and not tell you about it.

Chan pulls your body close against his body and looks at the reflection of him hugging you from the back, fuck, he likes what he's seeing.

He slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you closer, close enough to press on his crotch, "You always make me hard," he confesses.

He presses a long kiss on your neck then says, "That's why."

You're chuckling at his honest answer then turn around to face him, putting your hands on his magnificent abs.

"How about I return the favor?" You suddenly ask.

Chan's eyes widen in shock and he wonders if the favor you mentioned has got to do with the thing he said earlier.

You burst into laughter and take the tube of sunblock, "I mean, putting on sunblock," you make the context clear.

You gently pat his cheek and kiss it while still laughing, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

CHRIS: Told you, I just can't think straight when I'm with her.

With their eyebrows raised and not-so-subtle death glares thrown your way, it's obvious that they think the reason why Lana called everyone to the cabana is because you both broke the rules again.

"Nah. Nuh-uh. Not us!" You quickly deny everyone's allegations.

Chan can relax this time knowing that he didn't do any rulebreak and puts his arm around your shoulder. You offer your hand to intertwine it with his.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets not long after the cone chimes in.

Lola is nervously laughing in response and Jace follows suit, they make a strange couple out of the bunch which only makes them inexplicably cute.

"To help you achieve personal growth during your stay, I need to increase your chance of finding meaningful romantic relationships," Lana remarks.

You turn your head at Chan and raise an eyebrow, wondering if he has any clue as to what Lana is hinting at.

"Therefore, I have invited two new guests to the retreat."

The gasp you let out is loud and sharp, Chan gets a little alarmed at how enthusiastic you get from this announcement. Should he be worried though?

"My guests have selected one person each to take on a date," Lana further informs.

"Oh, my God!" Alicia shrieks.

It shouldn't worry him this much but Chan feels a little worried. It's not him, it's you, he worries that your head will turn.

"The ones chosen for the dates are..."

CHRIS: Lana, can you just send us on a date instead? [Laughs] I'll not be pleased if she gets chosen for the date.

Chan doesn't want to show it but he starts tapping his fingers on his knee, waiting for Lana to inform who got chosen to get on dates with the new guests.

"Alicia..." Lana announces the first name.

Pierre hisses at the mention of his partner and coyly smiles, looking calm about it.

"And Chris," Lana announces.

Chan only registered a minute later that Lana called his name and that he got picked for the date. He might have secretly prayed for your name to not get called and forgot to pray for his own.

"Alicia and Chris, you may now leave and get ready for your dates," Lana orders.

You thinly smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, "Have fun!"

He's not sure if you mean it or not, but Chan takes it that you have good intentions behind those words. He briefly hugs you before leaving.

CHRIS: I did not expect to get chosen but yeah, I think it's a good chance for me to show her that I'm into her.

It's when he's getting ready in the dressing room that Lana delivers additional information.

One, they haven't told the new guests that they are on Too Hot To Handle which will make them as horny and as eager as he is at the start of the retreat.

Two, Chan is free to decide at which point to tell them about it.

"It's better if we tell them right away then," Chan talks to Alicia as they're walking down to the beach.

"But then they won't try to kiss you," Alicia cheekily says which is the opposite of what they should do to resist temptations.

"Good luck!" Chan gives Alicia a quick hug as they go separate ways at the beach.

He keeps walking until he finds the place where they have prepared a picnic for the date and also where the new guest has been waiting for him.

The girl turns her head around and smiles when she sees him coming her way, "Hi, hi!"

Chan joins her by sitting on the pillow on the picnic mat, "Hi, I'm Chris," he introduces and offers his hand for a handshake.

"I'm Olivia," she introduces back but instead of shaking his hand, she puts her hand around his shoulder and pulls him for a hug.

It gets him nervous and it's not the first time he goes on a date like this. He grabs the glass of drink that has been prepared for him and initiates a toast with her.

"Is that an Australian accent that I hear?" She asks.

"Yes," He answers.

"Oh, I like that," she sweetly says with a bright smile.

This is the real temptation. Olivia has a voluptuous body, gorgeous strawberry-blond hair, and a nice smile. Chan was so wrong to think that her date would be ugly.

"I've never been to a date this nice, honestly," Olivia says.

Chan swallows his drink before answering, "Well, thank you for choosing me so I can enjoy this nice date with you," he says.

He doesn't mean to sound this flirty, it just sort of comes out of him naturally. It's just the way he talks to a girl.

"Well, you have a great body, sexy lips and dimples. I think it's a no-brainer," Olivia says with eyes that silently travel down his body.

This is what he doesn't get from you enough from you, affirmations and now that he got it from someone, he gets flustered, "Thank you," he mutters with a shy smile.

Olivia flips her hair to one side of her shoulder and gazes at him, "What do you think about me? Am I your type?"

Chan lets out a low laugh and holds his drink in one hand, "You're obviously good-looking," he begins.

Olivia is biting on her finger and locked in a gaze with him as he continues talking.

"I like your smile. It's uh... you have a very nice smile," he sincerely compliments.

"Thank you," she mutters her gratitude with a flirtatious smile.

CHRIS: Just because I'm already with someone that doesn't mean I can't get to know Olivia.

The plan is to break the news to Olivia as soon as possible.

However, Chan keeps finding himself stalling to do it. He gets immersed in the conversation with Olivia and maybe because he hasn't met new people in a while that makes him inexplicably excited to talk to someone new.

Chan finishes his drink to muster up the courage to drop the news but it's hard when Olivia is constantly giving him the eyes.

"It's a nice date, yeah?" Chan begins by softening the moment.

Olivia smiles and nods, "It would be nicer if we kissed," she shamelessly says.

Oh, Olivia is a trouble and Chan already has a handful of it, she's probably waiting for him to come back from this date as they speak.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Chan says.

"Why?" Olivia's smile falters a little and maybe, she's feeling a little dejected by how quickly Chan shot her down.

"This is not what you think it is," Chan carefully says.

One of her eyebrows shoots up higher than the other, "What do you mean?"

Chan takes a deep breath even though Olivia who should be the one doing it, "You're on Too Hot To Handle."

Olivia sits up straighter and clutches at her chest, "What?"

He feels bad to rain on her parade but he's merely there to be the bearer of bad news.

"That means no kissing, no heavy petting, no masturbating, no sex..."

Her eyes get wider and wider the more she hears about things she's not allowed to do in the retreat, "That means no fun? Ever?"

"Basically... yeah," Chan playfully responds.

Oh, is this how he looked when Lana dropped the news on him? The only thing he knows for sure is Olivia is as livid as he was back then.

CHRIS: What can I do? Lana is the one in control here.

The night gets dark in time to return to the villa.

Chan helps Olivia climb the stairs on her heeled sandals and proceeds to introduce her to everyone. He gets a little nervous when it comes to introducing Olivia to you.

"So, how was the date?" Lola asks.

Chan scratches the back of his head and answers, "We had a good time."

"Yeah, that was... the nicest date I ever had," Olivia adds.

He takes a seat next to you on the sofa and you're only looking at him without saying anything.

"Did you have fun?" You finally ask him.

Chan leans into your side and says, "Let's have a talk!"

Taking you by the hand, he pulls you aside to get some privacy. You choose to sit on the sofa across from him rather than next to him.

"Uh... Olivia is sweet and we had a great chat," Chan begins while rubbing down his arm.

"I used the chance to get to know her," he adds.

He sees you subtly rolling your eyes at him and sigh, pretending like you don't care but he knows. It's kind of cute that you're worrying him that Chan's heart is fluttering inside.

He reaches for your hands and intertwines his fingers with you, "But the whole time, during the date..."

He looks at you and smiles, "I just couldn't wait to get back."

A smile rises on your face and he can see that you soften around him. He uses his index fingers to draw endless circles on the inside of your palm.

"I miss you," he softly mutters.

You're shyly smiling at him and say it back, "I miss you too."

"Come here! Give me a hug!" He says while shaking your hand.

You get up from the sofa and walk up to him, he stops you before coming for his lap.

"Oh, looking so hot tonight," he comments on the way you dressed tonight in a black silk dress with a high slit on the side.

"Spin for me, baby," he requests.

You take your hand away so you can do it for him, spinning on your feet. You show off your dress and make a few poses for him, doing it so confidently that it's undeniably sexy to him.

"Mmh... yeah, the finest girl in the retreat!" He praises.

You're laughing looking at his exaggerated facial expression, then melt onto his lap, letting him hold you tightly. Chan kisses the top of your head and whispers, "You're my number one."

After all, the word 'loyal' is what he likes to be associated with.

CHRIS: I don't think there's anybody else that could walk in here and turn my head at all. She's the one.

With his open arms, Chan is ready to catch you as you jump onto the bed at him. He locks his arms around you, then peppers your shoulder and neck with little kisses.

"Good job, Chris!" Alicia beams from the next bed.

He sees that she's still sharing the bed with Pierre, and he says back to her, "Good job, Alicia!"

The date was certainly a test but it's not much about temptations, it made Chan realize how much he likes you and he doesn't want to be with anyone else in this retreat but with you.

As he looks at you while you're lying next to him, he wonders if you feel the same too. He softly brushes your hair to the side and gently kisses your cheek, "Goodnight, baby!"

The lights are out and you snuggle into him, hooking your leg around him with your foot rubbing his shin. You place a long kiss on his neck before lowly whispering to him, "I'm glad you're back."

Chan quietly smiles in the dark of the room, "With you," he continues the sentence for you.

"With you," you repeated his words instead of putting it into a whole sentence.

He turns his head and he can easily land a kiss on your forehead, "Me too."

It's getting suspicious that your hand that was resting on his chest is slowly going lower and lower. You're probably waiting until everyone else is fast asleep to do something.

You nuzzle your head further into his neck to kiss him there, your hand is inching closer to the waistband of his boxer.

"Mmh..." he warns you with a hard squeeze on your waist.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and playfully bite on his ear shell, ignoring his warning by slipping your hand into his boxer.

Chan can stop you by putting your hand away but he knows you want to make him feel good and he simply can't resist you.

"Oh, you're so bad," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper.

He closes his eyes the moment your hand meets his semi-hard cock, "You're so bad," he says again but does nothing to stop you.

"I know," you reply to him, wrapping your hand around his length and slowly stroking it.

Chan draws you closer to his side with his hand fisting the back of your camisole as he begins enjoying the stimulation you're giving him.

"Impressive," you seductively sigh into his ear after exploring every inch of his hardening cock.

One compliment is enough to make him extremely aroused. He feels your thumb circling the tip of his cock before pumping it up and down with your hand at a steady pace.

Chan holds it in as long as he could but after days passed without getting a release, his self-control hits the lowest peak and he cums only after a few minutes.

"That wasn't even my good hand," you whisper with a low giggle.

He turns to look at you and jokingly says, "What good hands, mmh? You don't have any."

Chan knows he's a few minutes late to pull your hand out of his boxer, he then playfully bites at your fingers, "They're all bad hands. Bad, naughty hands!"

As you lowly laugh at his reply, he presses a kiss on your open mouth and draws you closer to him, feeling your body molds into his again.

CHRIS: [Bites lip] I can only hope that we didn't get caught.

"Morning," Chan croaks with a soft kiss on your cheek.

You get up right away a moment after the lights are turned on, sitting with your back against the headboard then ties your hair into a messy bun.

Still gathering his senses, Chan decides to rest his head on your lap and put your hand in his hair so you can play with it.

You give his curls a ruffle and brush it with your fingers, "Is this your natural hair?"

What you're doing is comforting him so that he can only hum in response, "Mmh."

He turns his head to the side and sees you looking down at him, "Do you like it?"

You tenderly cup his cheek in your hand, "Mmh. I like it."

Chan takes your hand to kiss the inside of your hand and wrist, his heart skips a beat at the melodic chime that comes from the cone.

Thankfully, it's Lana with her usual morning greeting and wishing the new guests a good day on their first day in the retreat. Chan thought that the first day was the hardest, but now he learned that he lost a bit of his self-control on each day spent in this retreat. What happened last night is the proof of it.

"How was your sleep, Nick, Olivia?" Lola asks the new guests who shared the bed.

"To be honest, I'm hoping it was all just a dream," Nick answers.

Everyone painfully laughs at the satire. Chan honestly still wishes that it was only just a dream but instead of that, he got used to the cameras recording everything he does in the retreat.

"Is there anyone you like here?" Luke asks either Olivia or Nick.

Chan doesn't need to worry about Olivia anymore. Guess, she has seen that he's with you which automatically makes her stop pursuing him. It's the other guest that he worries about, he notices that he's been secretly stealing glances at you.

"Mmh..." you moan as you hug him tight before getting up from the bed to start the day.

CHRIS: She worried for me last night but that's not quite convinced me if she feels the same way. I'm a little worried that her head will turn.

His fear turns real when Chan gets back to the villa from swimming and finds you chatting with the new guy in the bathroom.

Chan lingers at the doorway to catch glimpses of the conversation, catching him compliments you and you're laughing at him.

"I think there's something between us," Nick says.

"You think?"

Nick laughs and says, "I just can tell."

You're only softly laughing and not denying it. Chan decides that it's time to enter the scene so he walks into the bathroom not saying anything but gets himself a towel from the rack.

Chan turns around and looks at you, slightly nodding at Nick. The uncomfortable forcing Nick to leave the bathroom which is the only right decision there is.

You're slyly smiling at him as you lean against the sink, "Hey..."

Chan doesn't answer but keeps drying his body with the towel. He wants to see what you're going to do with this suffocating silence.

You come up to him and slip your hands under his arm, hugging him, looking up at him with your puppy eyes. You try to get his attention by kissing his neck and placing a wet kiss on his collarbone.

"Mmh... salty," you say with a giggle.

Without warning, he hoists you up and carries you on his shoulder. He slaps on the back of your thigh while looking at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"Bad girl!" He slaps you again on the other thigh, sending you squealing and laughing with your head hung upside down behind him, "You bad, bad girl!"

He slaps your ass cheek this time and asks you again, "Funny, huh?"

Yet you keep laughing, only grabbing at his arm for support. Chan turns his head to bite on the flesh of your ass cheek, "Is it still funny?" He asks again.

"Uh-huh!" You cheekily answer.

CHRIS: She's really bad... I need to tame her. Wish me luck though [Grins]

Lana throws a welcome party for the new guests and everyone is wearing red for the theme.

Chan wears a sleeveless top with his dark slacks while you're dressed in a red dress with a low neckline that barely covers your breasts.

However, the party can't stop the imminent threat of Lana telling everyone about the things you both did last night. Chan can only mentally prepare himself for it and gulps his drink in silence.

"So, what do DJs actually do?" You suddenly ask him, sitting on his lap like always.

Chan remembers he once mentioned his job as a music producer but you only focused on his side job as a DJ, "Huh?" He asks in confusion since you asked out of the blue.

You put your drink away and put your hand on his shoulder, "You guys made the mix beforehand, right? So when you're on the stage, you know DJing, you just need to play that mix," you concisely put what a DJ does as if it sounded that simple.

Chan can tell you everything there is about DJing that is more complex than what you've just said but he can only laugh at it and it helps him to take his mind off things, "Yeah, kind of."

You squeeze his shoulder and say, "If that's the case then I want to be a DJ too."

He rubs his hand down your spine and rests it on the arch of your back, "You can be whatever you want."

"Mmh," you hum as you sip your drink, "We can make a duo, you and me, DJing together."

Chan is having a good laugh about it when the music abruptly stops playing then the familiar chime comes in through the speakers.

"Please could everyone gather in the cabana immediately!"

CHRIS: Oh, fuck, I'm shitting it.

You're looking so calm sitting next to him, unaware of what's going to happen once the cone starts talking. Chan tries to put on a cool face as well, leaning back on his seat with his hand resting on your thigh.

"I've gathered you all to remind you that this retreat is for finding deeper connections, not just physical ones," Lana speaks.

The long pause between the lines is making Chan even more nervous, his hand is getting sweaty yet you hold it tightly on your lap.

"This information is not getting through to some guests. There has been a breach of the rules," Lana announces.

Alicia smacks her lips together and asks, "Who was it?"

The hunt for guilty faces is on and of course, everyone is looking at them. Chan is planning to admit it real quick, ripping the band-aid all at once but someone gets ahead of him.

"A while ago..." Iain says, "Literally a few minutes ago, I kissed Olivia."

Lola slaps her forehead and sighs, "Oh, my God!"

Olivia only shrugs in response, not showing any remorse or guilt on her part.

"The kiss has cost the group $6,000," Lana informs.

"Nice!" Lola adds a snide comment.

Everyone is pissed because Olivia spent some money when she has only been here for less than two days. Chan gets the picture of how things would be when he comes forward.

"Oh, I need another drink," Luke says.

"That is not all!" Lana makes everyone hold their breath once more.

CHRIS: Okay, here we go... [sighs]

"Last night, there was another breach of the rules."

There's no way out of it, everyone is going to know whether he decides to tell or not. Chan takes a deep breath and another one and...

"It was me," you confess.

"Oh, shit..." Pierre drags the curse word and leers at Chan.

Lola looks at you and asks, "What did you do this time, babe?"

You glance at Chan before looking back at everyone, "There was a kiss and..."

You lick your lips and hold on to his hand on your thigh, "I gave him a handy."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Jace exclaims, then bursts into laughter.

"We may as well go home. We have no money left!" Jane says with a dramatic sigh.

"I wanted to show Chris what he's been missing for going on that date, so... I'm sorry," you conclude with an apology.

It's not a good time to get lovey-dovey but he is swooning. You're fearlessly owning up to your mistakes and openly explaining the reason why you did it.

You may bring out the bad in him but he can see that there's a genuine connection there. He doesn't want to sit there and watch as everyone is attacking you.

"We're sorry, okay?" Chan apologizes once again on behalf of you.

Thankfully, Lana takes over the situation.

"What you did goes against the purpose of the retreat. Therefore a further $14,000 has been deducted from the prize fund," Lana comes up with the calculated damage.

Lola is groaning and squirming like someone has set her body on fire, "Oh, God!"

"The prize fund now stands at $135,000."

Chan grips your hand hearing how much money have lost from the initial amount and have a hard time reeling from it.

As if that wasn't enough of torture, Lana calls your name and his.

"You have broken most rules since arriving at the retreat. You must now prove that your connection is more than just purely physical."

You're looking at him and he sees panic in your eyes, kind of figuring out what Lana is going with it.

"You will face the ultimate test of chastity by spending the night alone in the private suite."

Chan gulps air and feels hot all of a sudden. Without looking, he can feel everyone's eyes are drilling holes in his head.

CHRIS: I want to prove to everyone that we do have a genuine connection but at the same time, we're going to the private suite... [whistles] it's going to be hard.

Everyone is emitting negative energy and that only makes Chan can't stand another second being in the same room with them.

"Please make your way to the suite!" Lana commands.

Chan shoots up from the sofa and offers his hand to help you get up, "Come on, babe!"

He just can't wait to get away from everyone and not be around them. He leads the way to the private suite that is located in a different part of the villa.

Chan slowly pushes the door to the suite and the smell of scented candles welcomes him. He holds the door open for you and you gasp at the sight of the big bed with a silk sheet on it.

"Oh, they want us to fail, babe," you say as you slowly lay yourself down on the bed.

Chan stands at the end of the bed and looks at you, lying with rose petals scattered around you.

"So beautiful," he murmurs.

He puts his knee against the mattress to hover above you, taking his time to admire your beautiful face with admiration in his eyes, "Stop looking so beautiful!" He says in a frustrated tone.

You smile at him and draw his body closer, sending him toppled on top of you.

"So, tell me..." you lowly speak with your hand going under his top.

"Tell you what?" He says as he plants a soft kiss on your neck.

"What are we doing tonight, Chris?" You ask.

You rarely call him by his name but when you do, it does things to him. He has so many things he wants to do to you but sadly, they are all against the rules.

CHRIS: Lana wasn't kidding when she said it's the ultimate test... [shakes head] [sighs]

The bath is ready and Chan is leaning against the sink, watching you taking every piece of clothing off you.

You look confident in your body and that's just a whole different level of sexy to him. You're smiling, noticing that he's been ogling at your body, up and down, for so many times he lost count of it.

"Why are you just standing there?" You ask while twisting your hair and securing it with a hair claw.

He shakes his head with his cheeks blushed from how horny he is, "You're so gorgeous," he praises.

You come up to him and kiss him on the cheek, close enough to the corner of his mouth, "Don't make me wait."

You get in the tub first and slowly lower yourself into the warm, scented water to not slosh it out of the tub.

You fill two champagne flutes with the bubbly wine while Chan is removing his clothes in under a minute. You look at him as he stands there in all his glory. He notices the glance you made at his semi-hard cock.

"You like what you see?" He asks.

You pull your feet up so he can take the spot on the other end of the tub and then you can rest your feet on his legs.

"Oh, I want to get a taste now," you tell him with a flirty wink.

Chan bursts into laughter to mask how nervous he is inside. He's snaking his hand under your thigh to hold you there.

"You're hard right now," you remark out of nowhere.

It's obvious, he can even see right through the milky water that his cock is fully erected and you're not asking, you know it's true.

"What should we do about it?" He asks.

You sip your wine and lick your lips, "That depends on how much money we want to spend tonight," you tell him.

Oh fuck, it's going to be one hell of a night!

CHRIS: [Sighs] Uh... I think I need a loan statement.

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