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gammasnippets · 8 months ago

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[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP60. Spotlighting 🐿️ Part.3

fromis_9 Lee Chaeyoung

11,660 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop & @dnd-writes)

After "reviewing" an intense office romance starring fromis_9's main vocalist, Park Jiwon, you are now left with 8 more alluring videos featuring the remaining members to explore and indulge in. You feel teased after witnessing the explicit nature of the first video. Watching Jiwon's naked body as she partakes in what might be the best sexual experience caught on film got you pitching a tent underneath your pants. But that doesn't seem to be enough. After all, what's not to say that the other videos won't push your limits even further?

You choose among the many files that fill your computer folder, looking for the next video to review. The first thing that catches your eye is the thumbnail with the group’s playful and charismatic rapper, Chaeyoung. The entire fromis_9 is full of pretty faces and hot figures, but you've always been drawn to Chaeyoung's magnetic charm. She's funny, talented, and has a captivating stage presence… And now you find yourself eager to see how she can ignite your desires in this next video.

You press the play button and the "Channel_9" intro plays alongside its colorful intro card. As their video editor, you ponder what elements can be included in this video to tie it to the first one seamlessly. With a mischievous grin on your face, you decide to include a recap from the previous video where Jiwon's sensual encounter left you craving for more. You think it's a wonderful idea, but watching this current video to its completion comes first.

After the intro, the video shows a huge indoor swimming complex. The video shows its many pools and amenities, filled with many hues of blue and sparkling with crystal-clear water, and inviting everyone to dive in. It then shifts to an aerial shot of Chaeyoung outside of the area walking towards it. The camera switches to that of the crew following her to have a better view of this video’s main star, wearing a creative mix of a red strapless dress over a white buttoned shirt and red heels. Her long figure is accentuated by the dress, giving her a seductive yet sophisticated look.

However, as the camera focuses on her, Chaeyoung seems to look more hesitant than anything, curious as to what might be inside.

"Is this really the place?" Chaeyoung wonders aloud, her voice full of excitement and anticipation.

"Yes," one of the crew softly replies.

"What is this place? It could be like an indoor pool," Chaeyoung suggests, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

She walks a bit further and reaches the entrance of the indoor swimming area. It didn't take long for her to realize that her assumption was correct.

"An indoor pool? Oh wow, it really is," Chaeyoung exclaims, her voice filled with awe.

As she steps further inside, the view switches to a bird's eye view of the entirety of the swimming area from a drone camera. Despite her tall frame, the captured angle makes Chaeyoung look like a small figure in this large aquatic paradise.

"Wow. This place looks nice," she murmurs to herself. "They even have big slides!"

She continues to explore the vast complex, taking in the many sights and sounds around her. Her eagerness to take a dip in the many pools becomes more and more evident as she starts to softly whine every time her eyes catch anything new and exciting.

"You want to swim, don't you?" one of the crew playfully asks Chaeyoung, teasing her.

"Of course," she replies with a mischievous smile, before letting out a deep sigh. "I wish I didn't wear this outfit."

"But you look good in it."

"But I want to swim," she pouts, defeated as she looks at her clothing.

The crew chuckles at her cute yet disappointed expression.

"Can we go back here again?" she asks.

"Maybe?" the crew replies, a teasing tone in their voice.

Her eyes widened in hope and excitement. "Really? We can?"

"Well, we can certainly try to make it happen," they respond, their tone filled with amusement.

"Yes!" Chaeyoung claps her hands in glee.

"But this is a filming studio, after all," they point out.

"Ugh…" Chaeyoung groans, sounding frustrated.

"So we should coordinate with them first if we can use this place again," they suggest.

"It's a shame we can't just go here whenever we can," she pouts.

The crew again laughs at her remarks.

Her witty nature, paired with her playful banters, makes Chaeyoung a delight to work with. She's more than just a pretty face, her vibrant and welcoming personality makes her a good addition to any project. Many fans often discuss how she rarely lands any invitations to shows or events, be it as a guest or a host. Her level of professionalism, paired with her natural charm, will make her a great asset to any production.

Chaeyoung and the crew continue to explore the huge swimming facility, stumbling into more breathtaking pools and attractions along the way. They then end up in a huge yet shallow pool. What's interesting is that despite the water being shallow, it doesn't look like a pool meant for children. The pool is decorated as if it's a sports arena, with goals on each end and border lines drawn on the bottom. A scoreboard is also visible, adding to the air of competition and excitement.

"Wow! This area looks great!" Chaeyoung exclaims, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

She then proceeds to walk further into the pool area, trying to get a closer look at the intricately designed space. But as she takes a few more steps, the crew then takes their leave to let her explore on her own. She waves and bows at them as her way of appreciation for accompanying her thus far. As they part ways, the camera view then switches to those inside the area, capturing the entire place from much better angles.

As she goes deeper into the pool area, she notices a man nearby who seems to be doing some stretches.

"Uhh… Hello," Chaeyoung tries to grab the man's attention with a friendly tone as she steps closer to him.

"Ah! Hello there," the man turns to her and slightly bows, a polite smile on his face.

"Hello to you as well," she responds with a warm smile before bowing in return.

The man stands up from his task and walks closer to Chaeyoung, offering a friendly handshake.

"So I will be your partner today."

She softly giggles before accepting her handshake. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," he replies, his voice calm and friendly. "Chaeyoung, is it?"

"Yes. I guess I'm in the right place," she says with a playful grin.

"I guess you are," he chuckles. "So, are you ready?"

Chaeyoung then looks at him, dumbfounded.

"Eh?"

"I was told that we're going to have a friendly game of water polo," he explains, pointing towards the goals and lines in the pool.

She is then left speechless for a moment, her eyes staring at nothing in particular as she looks as if she's processing her situation.

"So, are you up for it?" he asks her again, his voice filled with anticipation.

Chaeyoung then chuckles, still staring into nothingness, before looking at him. "I wasn't even informed that I'll be swimming today."

She then turns her attention to one of the many cameras surrounding them as if looking at the staff themselves.

"Why did you make me wear this?" she yells at them laughing, playfully pointing at her outrageous office get-up.

Her partner then bursts out laughing at her unexpected reaction. "Wait. What's wrong?"

Chaeyoung then looks at him, still laughing but looking defeated. "I can't swim in this!"

He scratches his head in amusement as he has never been in a situation quite like this before, let alone see someone attempt to swim wearing office attire.

"Well that can be a problem," he says, chuckling.

"Oh no," she then starts to worry about the challenge at hand. "Do I immediately fail the challenge?"

"I don't think so. No," he attempts to reassure her worries as he thinks of a way to salvage the situation.

Suddenly, one of the monitors in the room turns on, catching their attention. On the screen, a message appears where it says the following;

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: SPLASH & BLAST>

Aim to be the best water polo player ever!

Score as much as you can against your opponent.

Regular water polo rules don’t apply. Do whatever you can to win!

Complete this mission to earn your group a reward.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

They both read the message on the screen, their eyes widening in surprise. Chaeyoung then looks at him with eyes full of concern.

"A time limit? How much time do we have?" she asks, feeling lost and nervous.

The scoreboard suddenly hums to life, catching their attention. The timer displays 120 minutes on the clock, making them realize they have a generous amount of time to complete the challenge.

"Oh, neat," he remarks. "We have plenty of time."

“Yeah,” She nods as she thinks about her situation. "But I'm wearing these clothes…"

"Right," he responds with a small chuckle.

"What should I do?" she asks, her worry slowly getting the best of her.

As he struggles to think of a way to help her, he shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you'd have to take them off."

"Sure," She chuckles nervously. “But you see…”

“Yes?” he asks.

"I don't have any swimsuits on me," she admits, blushing.

He then let out a chuckle at her sudden confession. "So you're just in your underwear, then?"

She nods at him. "Yep."

"If that's the case," he pauses for a moment, before adding, "Then it won't be much different from regular water polo."

"Really?" Chaeyoung's eyes widened, curious to hear his thoughts.

"Yes. Some beginners play water polo in their underwear, with the lack of preparation and all," he further explains, chuckling as he goes.

"I see…" she nods as she understands the situation. "So my case is actually a common thing, huh?"

"Correct," he nods, smiling. "Even professionals do their practice rounds wearing underwear when they forget to bring one."

“Is that so?” She laughs. "So it's just practice for me then."

He chuckles. "You can say that."

Suddenly, all her worries seem to have vanished. She smiles and nods at herself, a look of determination in her eyes.

"Alright," she exclaims, excited to accept the challenge. "I'll take the challenge then."

"That's the spirit!" He cheers her and gives her a thumbs up.

"So…"

Chaeyoung's eyes then begin to wander around the pool area, as if looking for something.

"Should I just strip here?"

Her query catches him off guard, blushing before laughing at himself. "Ah, right. The nearest changing room is a bit far from here. It might take you a while to walk there."

"I see," she responds, understanding the situation. "Guess I’ll do a quick one here."

"Sure. I’ll stay back," He tells her as he steps back a few steps, raising his arm as he does.

"Right! Let's do this, then…"

Chaeyoung steps a bit away from him and begins to undress.

Her partner is then left to watch her as she attempts to remove every article of her clothing. Her high heels come off first, then the belt that holds the entire ensemble, followed by her orange tube dress. As she is halfway through unzipping the dress, she suddenly stops, looking at him for a moment.

"Oh. Umm…" She looks at him, feeling shy.

"What is it?" he asks, curious.

"Can you…" she pauses, her hands pointing at the stuck zipper.

"You want me to help you with that?" He asks again, smirking this time.

She nods, feeling embarrassed.

"Yes, please…"

"Sure thing," he nods and approaches her.

He grabs hold of the zipper with one hand, the other resting on Chaeyoung's shoulder. His strength easily resists the dress, as it slides downwards without issue. She then sighs with relief, another piece of clothing is peeled off her body.

"Phew," she sighs, relieved. "Thank you."

"No problem," He smiles at her before gesturing at her if he can let go of the dress. "May I?"

"Yes," she replies with a smile, her eyes glancing at his hands.

He lets go of his hands and like a swift wind, her orange dress slides down her body. Chaeyoung’s partner stands there, admiring her figure as she is left in her white buttoned shirt with a hint of her blue panties peeking from the bottom.

"Wow. You look beautiful," he compliments her, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Thank you," he smiles and blushes.

She then goes back to business and unbuttons her shirt, revealing her bright blue bra. She slowly slides the garment down her arms, slowly revealing her slender body to him. He can't help but have his mouth open, his eyes admiring her beautiful physique. If anyone else was in his position, they would've pounced at her and ravished her right then and there, but he doesn't. He restrains himself as much as he can. And who knows? Maybe something interesting will happen along the way.

After a few seconds of gazing at her, he snaps himself back to reality, remembering the challenge at hand.

"So?" he asks her. "Ready?"

She nods, smiling. "Yes. Shall we?"

"After you," he gestures at her to dip in first.

Chaeyoung nods again and walks closer to the pool. She steps in it, slightly wincing as the water comes up to her calves.

"Ooh! It's cold," she whines, slightly grimacing.

"Are you okay?" he asks, curious to hear her response. "Is the water good?"

"I'm fine," she says, reassuring him. "Just a little chilly."

"Good to hear," he giggles, following her into the pool.

They perform quick stretches before they position themselves to face each other, ready to play a game of water polo.

"So, the goal is to score as many goals as I can, right?" Chaeyoung asks, feeling excited and nervous about the challenge at hand.

"Yes. So do your best," he replies with a wide grin, excitement evident in his tone.

"Right," she smiles, nodding at his response. "And go easy on me."

"I'll try," he chuckles, his eyes smiling along with his lips.

Chaeyoung then nods and readies herself to play.

The clock begins to tick, counting down before starting the game.

3… 2… 1…

And with a loud horn, the game starts.

The slightly serene water of the pool is replaced with large splashes as the two move fast toward the ball floating in the middle. Chaeyoung’s partner was able to reach it first with his long arms, but she swiftly reacted by swatting it away. Both then swim as fast as they can to recover the ball. Luckily for her, the water moves the ball closer to her position and she can reach it just before he does.

"Not too bad," he comments, impressed at how fast she is.

She smirks as if she already has a plan in mind. "You better get ready!"

Chaeyoung rushes toward the goal as fast as she can. In response, her partner moves towards it as well to defend it. As they near the goal, Chaeyoung, with the ball in her hands, attempts a big swing towards it, aiming for the side. He catches onto her plan and immediately positions himself in front of the goal, blocking it. With no time to waste, she lets out a loud grunt as she propels the ball out of his hands, hoping that it lands in the goal.

Unfortunately, the ball falls short, falling inches in front of him instead.

She grimaces as her attempt to score fails.

“Ah, no way!”

"Nice try, though," he says, smirking.

She hesitates to approach the ball for another attempt. But as she sees him, who is much closer, reaching for it, she abandons her plan.

"Oh, no…" she hisses. "Not on my watch."

Without a moment's hesitation, Chaeyoung drags herself towards her own end of the pool, leaving her partner with the ball. As she gets nearer to her goal line, she looks back to check his position. And to her surprise, he's already behind her, halfway through the pool, with the ball in his hands.

"Okay!" he yells, smiling. "My turn!"

"Wha—?!" she reacts, her eyes widening.

"Got you!" he says, as he winds her arms for the throw.

"Wait! That's unfair!" she frantically swims away, attempting to put some distance between them.

With the ball in his hands, he throws it straight towards the goal. As Chaeyoung desperately tries to catch up to the ball, she slips backward. This causes her to flail her arms and legs wildly. But with a stroke of luck, as she stumbles around in the pool, her feet catch the ball, hitting it. The ball then flies outside of the pool, landing on the hard floor of the facility.

"Oh!" he exclaims as he watches everything unfold. "That was something else."

After a few moments, Chaeyoung recovers her footing and is then left standing in the shallow pool, still disoriented from the tumble.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned.

She nods and raises her hand as if giving him a thumbs up. She wipes the water from her face and her hair, taking a few breaths as she recollects her thoughts.

"I'm okay," she chuckles, trying to catch her breath.

"That was quite a tumble you did," he comments, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah. I slipped," she replies, slightly shaking her head.

"I saw that," he giggles. "Are you good to go?"

"Yeah. Just a little bit dizzy," she reassures him, a hint of exhaustion in her tone.

"Okay. Let me just go get the ball," he says, getting off the pool to retrieve the ball.

"Wait. Where did it land?" she asks, scanning her surroundings for the lost item.

"It flew outside of the pool," he then pointed towards a spot outside. "Over there."

"Oh…" her eyes widen as she realizes her blunder. "I can't believe I kicked it that far."

He chuckles. "It happens to everyone. It's fine."

He quickly gets to where the ball is and picks it up.

"Let me get that," she says, moving towards him.

"Thanks," he smiles before softly tossing the ball to her. "Here you go."

"Oop!" she yelps, catching the ball in her hands. "Got it!"

"Nice catch," he praises her, smiling as he tosses himself into the pool.

"Thanks!" she smiles and waves, a hint of pride in her voice.

"Alright. Another round?" he asks, eager to start another round.

She nods. "Sure."

They again position themselves before resuming the game.

"Since you touched the ball before it went outside the pool," he says, looking at her. "The possession goes to me."

"Ah…" Chaeyoung sighs. "Fair enough."

He chuckles. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance to score."

"Yeah, yeah," she nods, smiling. "Do your worst."

She then throws the ball to him as they're about to start another round.

"No hard feelings?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Nah," She chuckles.

"But don't underestimate me."

"We'll see about that," he smiles as the horns sound, resuming the game.

Chaeyoung’s partner immediately makes a beeline towards the goal. His slim yet muscular build allows him to cut through the water with ease. But Chaeyoung isn't just a pretty face, as her lithe frame helps her keep up with his speed. Together with her silly and rather "unorthodox" methods of blocking him from scoring, her strategy is paying off, even though her opponent is much bigger than her. Neither of them is advancing any further, the two seemingly in a deadlock.

"You're good at this," he asks, impressed.

"Am I now?" she replies, smiling.

"Yes," he grins. "You should consider doing water polo as a hobby."

"I guess I should," she responds, giggling.

He chuckles. "Good to hear."

Their game goes on for quite some time with them in the same spot, neither of them scoring anything. Chaeyoung is doing everything she can to block his every move and eventually steal the ball from him, while her partner tries to get past her and keep the ball from her. They are growing tired of this stalemate, but neither of them is giving up anytime soon.

"Okay, now…" he suddenly pauses, raising his arms in the air.

"Eh?" Chaeyoung is left confused. "What now?"

"Time to score," he makes a sudden dash towards the goal.

"Hey! Wait!" she yelps, attempting to block him.

His sudden burst of energy catches her off guard and causes her to stumble again. He quickly uses this opportunity to gain more ground. He is slowly getting past her.

"Wait up… Nghh!" she groans as she desperately tries to catch up to him.

"This is it!" he declares, his voice filled with excitement.

He then winds up his arms for a throw. But as he is doing so, Chaeyoung quickly recovers and desperately halts his movements just in time, her arms locking with his, rendering him unable to shoot the ball.

"No, you won't!" She grunts, determined to stop him.

He is left powerless as he feels her strength, her hands clasping his tightly.

"Woah! You're strong," he gasps, taken aback by her power.

She looks at him, her eyes gleaming with confidence and determination.

"Not gonna let that happen!"

They continue to struggle against each other, their bodies touching as they attempt to overcome one another. As the situation for the first goal becomes tense, their clashing bodies cause them to stumble and fall into the water. But even after falling, Chaeyoung's hands remain firm on his, determined not to lose. In such desperation, she tries to grab a hold of him in any way that she can. She manages to get a grip on his waist, but that's when things take a turn for the worse.

As Chaeyoung’s partner finds a way to let go of her, her hands unknowingly grab her trunks. With not a lot of options in his hands, he decides to just sprint for the goal. But as he does so, her tight grip causes the trunks to slide off his waist, revealing his privates.

"What the?" his eyes widened, caught off guard by what happened.

"Ahh!" she lets out a yelp, surprised.

His face flushes in embarrassment as he tries to cover his private area with the ball in his arms.

"Wait a minute. Lemme just…" He fumbles around, trying to pull his trunks back up.

"Ah! Uhh… Sorry!" she apologizes, feeling flustered.

"Heheh… No worries," he giggles, feeling awkward about the situation.

She blushes, avoiding his gaze. "I'm really sorry about that."

"No, really. It's all good," he says, smiling.

"I wasn't thinking that…" she says, shaking her head.

"No need to worry. It was an accident," he says, grinning.

"Right," she responds, nodding. "Still, I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," he reassures her. "We can still continue the game."

"Mhmm… Sure," she nods, still looking flustered from the incident.

"Hmmm…" he inspected her for a moment, thinking. "Are you sure you're good?"

"Yes. I'm fine," she replies, nodding.

"Okay. If you say so," he responds.

"But how about we take a break?"

"Can we?" she asks, feeling excited at the thought.

"Sure. Seems like we both could use a breather," he says, grinning.

"Well… Alright then," she giggles.

He then extends his hand, gesturing at her to take his hand.

"Shall we?"

She grabs her hand as he helps her get back up.

"Thanks," she says, smiling.

"No problem," he grins.

They then get off the pool, walking towards a row of lounge chairs placed nearby.

"Ahh…" she sighs as she sits on the chair stretching her body. "That was exhausting."

"Yeah," he nods as he hands her over a pair of towels. "But was it fun?"

"Definitely!" she smiles as she grabs one of the towels. "Thank you, by the way."

“Don't mention it," he grins. "So how about some drinks?"

"I would love to," she smiles as she wraps herself in the towel. "I'll wait here if that's alright with you."

Chaeyoung's partner then heads over to the bar nearby to get some refreshments. She is left to her thoughts, thinking about how the game went so far.

“Jeez. This is really exciting.”

A smile spreads across her face, feeling delighted about the current situation. She then feels a slight tingle down her thighs, as if she's getting turned on.

"Nghh… This is bad," she whispers to herself, stroking her thighs, attempting to calm her urges.

She then looks at where her partner is, watching him grab a couple of drinks at the bar. He seems to be taking his time doing so.

The coast is clear.

She shifts her thighs, trying to ease the sensation. But instead of stopping, it only gets stronger. She lets out a soft moan, her body feeling the familiar heat.

"No, not here," she whispers to herself, her hands stroking her thighs, attempting to calm her urges.

As if she can't control her body anymore, her fingers wander downwards. A sudden wave of pleasure washes over her as her fingers gently touch her pussy.

"Fuck… So good," she murmurs, her fingers continuing to play with her wet lips.

Chaeyoung, unable to resist the temptation, decides to give in. Her fingers continue to tease her body, her pussy getting wetter with each touch. She begins to slowly up the pace, muffling her moans as her fingers thrust in and out of her pussy.

"Hngh!" she hisses, biting her lip. "So close…."

She begins to quicken her pace, her fingers plunging deep into her pussy. The intense stimulation causes her legs to buckle, her toes curling with pleasure.

"Ugh… Yes…" she gasps, her fingers fucking her pussy fast.

Her fingers reach deeper into her, sending a powerful surge of pleasure up her spine. She is close to the climax.

But just as she's about to reach her orgasm, the sudden sound of her partner's voice causes her to freeze in her tracks.

"Hey, Chaeyoung…" his voice rings in her ears.

Her eyes dart towards the direction of the voice. He's getting close.

"Shit! What timing," she hisses, frustrated, quickly removing her hand from her pussy.

She then quickly pulls her hands up and wipes her juices on the towel. She adjusts her sitting position afterward, trying to make herself look natural.

“Sorry, I took so long,” he apologizes as he hands her a cold bottle of soda. “Here’s your drink.”

"Oh! T-thank you," she replies, her hands shaking as she grabs the bottle.

"Hmmm…" he looks at her, curious. "Are you okay?"

"M-me? Yeah! I'm fine," she replies, laughing awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” he continues to stare at her, looking as if he doesn't believe her. “You look red.”

"R-red? Me?" she giggles awkwardly. “I-it’s probably the… Heat. Yes! T-that’s it.”

"Well…" he says, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know if I grabbed a good drink for you. The bar doesn't seem to have much to offer."

"It's fine! T-this is nice," she giggles.

"Well that's good to hear," he smiles, before laying down on the chair next to her.

She opens her bottle and gulps down half of the content as if her throat is parched.

"Phew…" she sighs, wiping her mouth.

"You seem thirsty," he comments.

His sudden query almost made Chaeyoung spill her drink.

"T-thirsty?" she frantically responds, almost stuttering.

"Yeah. You seem to be sipping your drink fast," he points out.

"Ahh… That. Hehehe," she awkwardly giggles, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Well, y’know… It's been a hot day."

"Yeah. It sure is," he replies, relaxing his body. "This weather makes me feel hot and sticky."

"Sticky, huh…" she murmurs to herself, trying to keep her composure.

"So how's the game so far? You're holding up well," he compliments her, a playful grin on his face.

"Ah, yes," she nods, laughing. "I, uhh… I'm doing my best."

"You have the makings of a good water polo player," he adds, his grin growing wider.

"Is that so?" she continues to laugh, her cheeks blushing.

"You gave me a hard score, after all," he remarks, chuckling.

"I did, didn't I?" she giggles, feeling embarrassed.

"Yeah. You're creative in your tactics, too," he adds.

"C-creative?" she asks, curious.

"Well, you know…" he then slightly tugs her swimming trunks, reminding her of the silly incident earlier.

"O-oh," she blushes, remembering what happened. "That one…"

"It was a pretty bold move if you ask me," he chuckles, amused.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen," she apologizes, looking embarrassed.

"You don't have to apologize," he says, his voice calm.

"I… I got so into the game that I didn't notice what I was doing," she explains, looking embarrassed.

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" he jokes, smirking. "I might even do the same thing if the situation calls for it."

Chaeyoung's eyes then widened, surprised at his answer. "R-really? You mean…"

"Just kidding!" he bursts into laughter, finding her reaction amusing. "You're only in your underwear, so I wouldn't consider doing that."

"But you're only wearing trunks yourself!" she exclaims, chuckling. "We're pretty much on the same boat here."

"So are you proposing an 'equal' fight, then?" he grins, teasing her.

"Well… I mean…" Chaeyoung blushes, feeling shy. "Ah! Forget what I said."

"Come on now. Don't get shy on me," he teases, smirking.

She hesitates to let out what's on her mind. Granted her sexual frustration and her partner's teasing are getting the better of her, but she eventually gives in.

"Fine," she grumbles.

"So what is it?" he asks, his voice calm and patient.

"Well," she pauses for a moment, her eyes wandering. "I was just saying that maybe it's okay if we could just—"

The horn suddenly blares aloud, interrupting her speech.

"Oh. Time's up already?" he asks, getting back up.

Chaeyoung then sighs at the impeccable timing. "So it is."

"Well, shall we go back?" he asks, lending her a hand to stand up.

"Sure," she replies, nodding. "Let's go."

They then both head back into the water to continue where they left off. They are left with 23 minutes on the clock.

"Ready for more?" he asks, smiling.

She smiles, her body ready. "Yeah. Let's do this!"

And with another loud blare of the horn, the game resumes.

Both of them hauls ass towards the middle, trying to get to the ball first. Chaeyoung manages to reach the ball first and firmly grasps it with both hands.

"Aha!" she declares. "Got it!"

"Nicely done!" her partner applauds her, smiling.

"Hehe… Thanks," she replies, giggling. "Now it's my turn!"

She does all she can to reach the goal as fast as she can. However, his athletic frame makes him move to block it before she can reach it.

"I want to see you try scoring again," he says, smirking.

"Aish…" She grunts, her eyes determined. "We'll see about that."

As Chaeyoung approaches the goal, she slowly thinks of a way to overcome him. An idea then suddenly pops into her head, giving her a newfound motivation.

"Okay…" she mumbles, as she comes up with a plan.

"Ready when you are," he firmly stands in his position, his eyes fixed on the ball.

Suddenly, she then attempts a flurry of fake shots, jumping in all directions in the hopes of baiting him to fall off-balance. As silly as she looks, her partner reacts in kind, trying to block her in every direction she jumps.

"I'm gonna get you!" she declares, giggling.

"Try if you can," he retorts, his grin widening.

As competitive as they get, a glimmer of joy and fun is present in their eyes. They're having fun. The fierce tension in the air doesn't stop them from enjoying themselves.

After a few moments, Chaeyoung finally takes the bait and dashes straight towards the goal, the ball in her hand. Her partner follows suit, hoping to stop her. They both rush towards each other to accomplish their own plans. As they come closer to each other and the tension continues to rise, Chaeyoung decides to jump out of the water as high as she can and throws the ball towards the goal.

"Get in there!" she yells as she lets go of the ball.

He reacts by reaching for the ball with his hand, attempting to block the shot.

"Got it!" he said in glee.

But in the nick of time, Chaeyoung swats the ball away with her hands, sending it upwards towards the goal.

They were frozen in their tracks, watching where the ball would land. A mix of emotions fills them both as it comes nearer to the goal.

"Did I score?"

"Did she miss?"

The ball then touches the edge of the goal, sending it bouncing to the side and landing a few inches away from the goal line.

"Agh! No!" Chaeyoung cries as the ball falls short of the goal.

"Whew! That was a close one," her partner exclaims, a bit exhausted.

He then rushes to recover the ball, attempting to score his own. But despite her failed attempt, she is quick to react and runs for her side of the pool to defend her goal.

"No way am I letting you score that easily!" she declares, smirking

He chuckles. "Good. Bring it on, then."

He winds up his arms for a big throw, while she prepares herself for his next move. He throws the ball as high as he can, far from her reach. But Chaeyoung isn't going to let him win that easily. She jumps another time, and with her long reach, is able to grab the ball in mid-air. It sends the ball out of bounds, outside the pool.

"Nice!" she exclaims, pumping her fist in the air.

"Ugh…" he groans, slightly annoyed. "That was a good block."

"Thanks," she smiles. "I have a good opponent."

"I'm honored," he chuckles.

After exchanging compliments and a few seconds of rest, they again prepare themselves for more water polo. They continue to attempt to score a goal for themselves as the other party tries their best to block their every move. Their restraints are slowly coming off as the two of them are willing to get up close and personal with each other during the game. With how serious the two of them are getting, Chaeyoung's partner can't help but exert a bit of his strength tussling against her. His hands, in a desperate attempt to retrieve the ball, accidentally end up grasping the softness of her butt

"Hngh!" she suddenly lets out a sharp gasp.

"Oh. Sorry!" he apologizes, retracting his hands.

"It… It's fine," she quickly recovers, smiling. "D-don't worry about it."

"Alright then," he says, still looking a bit apologetic.

They continue playing, but the situation seems to have shifted into a more sexual one. It's evident in their eyes the fire that makes them determined to win the challenge. But at the same time, the same fire emanates a more intense passion between the two of them. Gone are the subtleties they have for each other from the first few minutes of the challenge, now they're going all out, showing no signs of holding back.

As the game goes on, the two's bodies are getting closer and closer. Their touches aren't accidental anymore. They're deliberate, seeking a certain sensation from each other. And as their excitement grows, so does the tension in the air. The desire to get to each other becomes more apparent with each passing moment. This isn't just a game anymore. It has become a test of wills—a battle to see who'll succumb first. Getting physical is the name of the game, after all.

A few moments later, they again find themselves at a stalemate, the two staring at each other intently, neither giving up their guard.

"You're getting better at this," he comments, smirking.

She chuckles. "Not gonna let you score that easily."

"You think so, huh?" he asks, teasing her.

"Yeah, you bet," she replies, smirking.

"Well have at it, then," he says, challenging her.

As they are about to have another go, the horn blares out loud, catching their attention.

"Huh? Is it over already?" Chaeyoung asks, surprised.

"Doesn't seem like it," her partner responds, his gaze fixated on his timer. "We still have several minutes to go."

"Hmmm… Then what seems to be the—oh! Look at the screen."

They both then turn their heads toward the big screen in the middle. A message is being displayed, informing the players of another challenge.

"ATTENTION BOTH PLAYERS:

As neither player hasn't scored so far, we have decided to change the current challenge."

They are both confused, not expecting this sudden change.

"What does that mean?" Chaeyoung asks, perplexed.

"I have no idea," her partner shrugs. "Let's see what else is there to know."

The message on the screen changes again. It reads the following:

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: SPLASH & BLAST

1. Can you be the best lover in the pool?

2. Try and make your partner cum as much as possible! There are no rules!"

3. Whoever cums the most loses.

4. Win this mission to earn your group a reward.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

"Huh? What in the world is that?" Chaeyoung exclaims after reading the text on the screen, blushing.

"Woah!" his jaw drops, his eyes wide. "That's some challenge."

"So, are we really gonna…" she asks, looking at him, her face flustered.

"Looks like our game took a different turn, didn't it?" he chuckles, smiling at her.

"Yeah. I guess so," she giggles, her hands fiddling.

"Shall we… Do the challenge?" he asks, curious as to how she'll react.

She hesitates, her mind conflicted. However, the need to fulfill her lust and desires seems to overwhelm her, as she has no choice but to go with it.

"Uhmm… You see," she starts to say, her tone soft and a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

"You haven't done this yet, have you?" he asks, his expression calm.

"I mean…" Chaeyoung fiddles with her fingers, not looking him in the eye. "N-not that I haven't, but…"

"It's fine," he reassures her, smiling. "Bad experience?"

She shakes her head. "N-not with the real one, at least."

"I see," he nods, his hand grazing over her arm. "It's alright. We can just take it slow."

"Y-yeah, I guess…" she nods, agreeing.

They slowly approach each other, their bodies becoming closer and closer. They stare at each other's eyes, their bodies shivering. He then reaches out his hand and gently holds her chin, lifting it up, his face moving closer. She feels the warmth of his breath, their lips a mere centimeter apart.

"So, shall we begin?" he whispers, his voice soft and gentle.

She doesn't respond. Instead, she closes her eyes and presses her lips against his, sealing the deal.

Their bodies are pressed against each other, their skin touching, as the kiss grows deeper and longer. She wraps her arms around his waist, her hands touching his back. He, on the other hand, moves his hand down her hips, grabbing her buttocks.

"Mmmh…" she moans softly as their tongues intertwine.

Chaeyoung’s partner then slowly moves his hands towards her breast, his fingers fondling it. She lets out another soft moan, feeling his fingers rub her nipple.

"Feeling good?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

She nods, "Y-yes…"

He smiles, happy to see her reaction.

"I'll take it further," he says as he begins kissing her neck.

"Ahh… That tickles," she giggles, his kisses causing her body to tingle.

He continues to kiss her neck, his tongue tracing the curves of Chaeyoung's delicate skin. She moans softly, enjoying the sensation. His hand then slowly moves downwards, cupping her buttocks.

"Mnnh!" she gasps, his hands kneading her ass.

He smirks, amused at her reaction.

"Liking it?" he asks, grinning.

"Ahhh! Y-yes," she stammers, her body shuddering.

"Good," he says, his tone gentle. "I hope you're ready for more."

He continues to knead her soft butt, his hands grabbing a handful of her soft, round flesh. She lets out a series of moans, her body shivering with pleasure.

"Ahh, fuck…" she moans, her breathing getting heavy.

Her partner then continues his advance. As he moves his lips down her neck and onto her chest, he slowly unclasps her drenched bra, freeing her breasts from its confinement.

"Oh, wow… Chaeyoung-ah," he whispers, his eyes fixed on her chest.

Chaeyoung's nipples are already erect and glistening with the water from the pool. He then looks at her, his eyes burning with lust and desire.

"How cute," he whispers, his fingers gently tracing her nipples.

"Not there, not—hngh!" she whimpers, her body jolting from the touch.

He then continues to fondle her breasts, his fingers massaging her nipples. Her face turns red, feeling a tingling sensation in her body.

"Fuck… So good…" she pants, her voice soft and weak.

"You're really sensitive here, aren't you?" he teases, his voice playful.

Chaeyoung nods, her face flushed. "I… I'm just not used to—nghh!."

He chuckles, finding her reaction adorable.

"Let's move on to something else, then," he says, his voice calm.

"W-what is it? What are we going to—"

He places his index finger on her lips, signaling her to stop talking.

"Hush, Chaeyoung."

Her partner then lowers himself and grabs her panties, slowly sliding them off. He tosses her soaked underwear outside the pool, leaving her fully naked.

Chaeyoung attempts to cover her body with her hands as much as she can, her cheeks burning from the embarrassment.

"I-I hope you're l-liking the view," she stutters, her face turning a deep shade of red.

"Of course I do," he replies, his voice firm.

"I-I don't think I'm that—"

"Shhh…" he again interrupts her. "There's no need to be shy."

"O-okay…" she replies, nodding.

"Just relax and let me take care of you," he says, his voice soft and gentle.

His words send shivers down her spine, her body shivering from his words.

He slowly moves Chaeyoung's hand that covers her crotch and spreads her legs open, exposing her wet pussy.

"Such a pretty sight," he murmurs, admiring her glistening pussy.

"Mmmh… Can you stop?" she groans, her pussy aching with need.

"Oh, I’m sorry," he chuckles, his hands gently caressing her thighs.

"I'll get right into it."

"P-please… I can't wait," she stammers, her face red.

His hands slowly move upwards towards her inner thighs, his fingers grazing her delicate skin.

"So soft… So warm," he whispers, his fingers touching her folds.

"Aah! T-that's so good," she whimpers, her breathing getting heavy.

His fingers continue to explore her wet pussy, his fingertips caressing her sensitive clit.

"You're so wet, Chaeyoung," he teases, his fingers brushing against her swollen clit.

"T-that's because we… We're in w-water," she stutters, her body trembling.

"Excuses, excuses," he laughs, his tone playful. "You know what I mean."

"I-I can't help it!" she whines, her face flushed. "You're making me… Feel s-so good."

"Then let me make you feel even better," he says, his fingers now slowly penetrating her tight pussy.

"Ahh! Oh fuck," she yelps, her body shivering.

"Looks like you liked that," he whispers, his fingers pumping inside her.

She nods in response, her body shuddering with each thrust.

He adds another finger, his digits begin to thrust faster and harder.

"Fuck. So tight," he compliments, his voice husky. "You're taking my fingers so well"

"Ahhh! It's so… Deep!" Chaeyoung moans, her eyes shut tight.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, his fingers moving at a steady pace.

"Y-yes! Oh, shit. Yes!" she stammers, her body shuddering.

"Looks like you can't last much longer," he teases, his fingers continuing their assault.

"P-please… I'm gonna…" she looks at him with pleading eyes.

"Then go ahead. Cum for me," he commands, his fingers plunging deep.

Her body shakes as her orgasm approaches. She tries to grip whatever part of his body as best she can as her muscles tighten.

"I’m… I'm gonna!" she pants, her eyes squeezed shut.

"That's it, Chaeyoung. Just let go," he encourages, his voice gentle.

Finally, her body twitches and shudders, her pussy squeezing his fingers as her orgasm hits her hard. Her hips buck wildly, her body squirming as waves of pleasure wash over her. She elicits a loud moan as her pussy contracts, her juices spraying all over his hand.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" she yells, her body spasming.

"Good girl," he compliments her, his fingers still thrusting inside her.

"I'm cumming! Fuck! I'm cumming!" she cries, her voice quivering.

"Keep cumming," he instructs as he continues to finger her, his fingers reaching deeper inside her.

"Please! Ahhh!" she moans, her body shivering with ecstasy.

"Come on, Chaeyoung. Let it all out," he says, his voice calm.

"I-I can't! I'm gonna… I'm gonna—ahhh!" she screams, her pussy squeezing his fingers one last time before releasing a huge gush of fluid, like a floodgate bursting open to the pool.

"Yes! Yes! Agh!" she screams, her body convulsing as she cums, her juices spraying onto her partner's hand.

He slowly pulls out his fingers, his hands sticky from her fluids.

"You sure did cum a lot, Chaeyoung," he comments, a playful grin on his face.

She doesn't answer, her face red, her body shivering with aftershocks. Her chest heaves, her breaths coming in ragged pants.

"So how was it?" he asks, curious about her thoughts.

"I'm… I can't think," she murmurs, her voice weak.

He chuckles, amused by her reaction.

"Seems like you liked that," he says, his tone teasing.

As much as she hates to admit it, she replies with a subtle nod.

"Though I hope you're ready for more," he whispers, grinning.

"Fuck. You're gonna be the death of me," she grunts, her breath still shaky.

"Don't worry," he replies, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I'll be more gentle this time."

"For some reason, I don't believe you," she responds, her voice a mix of frustration and excitement.

"Oh, come on. I promise," he replies, his tone playful.

She sighs at his silly plea. "Fine. Whatever."

"So, anything on your mind?" he asks her, an excited glint in his eye.

Chaeyoung tries to think of something interesting to do with her partner. After a few seconds, she giggles before looking at him with a seductive smirk.

"How about…" she pauses for a moment, trying to build the tension.

"What is it?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.

"Hmmm… Come with me first!" She then grabs his arm and pulls him towards the edge of the pool.

He complies and allows her to drag him with her. Once they reach the edge, she pulls him in for a kiss before playfully pushing him, his back now against the wall.

"What now?" he asks, curious.

She doesn't reply, instead, her hands slowly move downwards. He gets the message and lets her work on removing his swimming trunks.

Chaeyoung's delicate hands slowly pull his shorts down, freeing his half-hard member. It seems that it hasn't reached its full size yet, but her eyes are fixed on such a huge object.

"Mmmh… It's so big," she murmurs, her eyes staring at his cock.

"I'm flattered," he smirks, his voice calm yet playful.

"You must be popular with the girls," she says, a playful smile on her face.

He chuckles. "You can say that."

She continues to stroke his member, her soft hands rubbing against his shaft. He closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her hands touching his skin.

"Ooh… Yeah," he groans. "You feel so nice."

"T-thank you," she giggles, her eyes glimmering with lust. "I'm trying to make this fucking cock bigger."

"Well, you're doing a good job," he grins, his cock slowly growing hard.

"Glad you're liking it," she replies as her pace gets faster, her hands quickly moving up and down his cock.

"Ugh… That's so good," he grunts, his hips rocking as her hands work their magic on his throbbing shaft.

"Enjoying the service?" she teases a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"Why wouldn't I?" he responds, his voice calm. "You're good at this."

She giggles, amused at his comment. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

"I can't tell if you're serious or joking," he replies, chuckling.

"Who knows?" she winks. "Does it matter?"

He pulls Chaeyoung closer, their faces mere inches from each other. The tension between the two continues to build, their breaths coming out hot and heavy as they stare into each other's eyes.

"Not in the slightest," he says, his tone deep and husky.

Without warning, his lips crash into hers, his hands pulling her even closer. His tongue slides into her mouth, exploring every inch of her soft, warm cavity. The young lady, as inviting as ever, reciprocates with an eagerness of her own.

Their tongues intertwine, their lips locked together. The two are locked in a passionate embrace as if they are two lovers who haven't seen each other in years. They continue to press their bodies against each other, their breaths becoming louder and hotter as the kiss becomes more intense.

As their kiss grows more and more passionate, his cock throbs in her hands, her pace getting faster and faster. As his shaft becomes harder and harder in her hands, it pulsates and begins to twitch.

"Are you close?" Chaeyoung breaks the kiss, a seductive smile can be seen on her face.

He nods, his cock fully erect and ready to burst.

The response from her partner causes her to increase her pace, her soft, delicate hands stroking his shaft vigorously. His hips begin to rock, his breathing getting heavier and faster.

"F-fuck… I'm so close…"

"Yes. Let it out," she purrs, her voice sultry. "Give me all of it."

"Chaeyoung-ah, I'm gonna…"

With one final stroke, his cock bursts, releasing a massive load of thick, white cum, covering her hands. She does her best to catch all of his semen in her hands, but the excessive amount he releases proves to be too much for her to handle and drips to the water below. She continues to stroke his shaft, milking his cock as her hands are fully covered in his seed.

"Oh, fuck…" he groans, his cock twitching as his load spurts out of his cock.

"You liked that, didn't you?" she asks, smirking.

"Hell yeah, I did," he chuckles, his body feeling exhausted.

"I can see why you're popular with the girls," she teases, her fingers scooping his seed and licking it off her fingers.

"Delicious."

He smiles. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"But.." she smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief. "The game's not over yet."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Chaeyoung quickly lowers herself, her face now positioned right in front of his member. Without hesitation, she engulfs his cock with her mouth, her lips wrapping around the tip. Little by little, she forces herself to take his girthy shaft, her throat struggling to fit his length.

"H-hey!" he exclaims, surprised at her bold move.

She ignores her partner and continues to suck his cock, her pace increasing. Her mouth makes slurping noises, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks him vigorously.

"Mmmh," she hums, his cock deep in her mouth.

"F-fuck… That's so good," he moans, his voice heavy with pleasure.

"I know," she mumbles, her lips wrapped around his cock.

"God… So good," he growls, his hips moving.

She continues to suck him, her head bobbing up and down his shaft. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with lust and desire looking straight at him. Her eyes are like that of a predator, her prey now at her mercy.

"Ugh, shit…" he mutters, his breathing becoming heavier. "You're eager to get ahead of me, huh?"

She didn't answer. But her increase in speed and intensity is proof of her determination to beat him.

"Yes, that's it. Just like that," he praises, his voice heavy with arousal. "Fuck… Your mouth feels so fucking good."

She retreats and releases his member, a thick strand of cum and saliva connecting his swollen tip and her soft lips.

"Hope you don't mind me getting another point," she teases, a playful grin on her face.

"Just get on with it, " he grunts, smiling. "Fuck, you're a lewd sight."

"Oh shut up and enjoy, will you?" She teases, her tone sultry.

"You don't have to ask me twice," he chuckles, amused.

Chaeyoung again engulfs his shaft, her tongue lapping on his sensitive skin. She takes him whole in one go this time, his cock hitting the back of her throat. Her eager attempt causes her to choke, but she does her best to not gag.

"Fuck… You're too good," he praises, his voice shaking.

She resumes to suck his cock, her head moving up and down his shaft. Her throat quickly adjusts to his size, allowing her to take him in deeper and deeper. Her eyes never leave him, her gaze fixated on him as her mouth is full of his member, her head bobbing furiously.

"Fuck! I think I'm gonna cum again," he grunts, his breathing becoming ragged.

Like a signal, her pace increases. She is determined to make him cum again. She wants more of his semen. She is hungry for it.

"H-holy fuck," he pants, his eyes shutting tight. "I'm close, Chaeyoung!"

Her pace increases even more, her head wildly bobbing up and down his length as she attempts to make him cum. She can't seem to resist his taste, as if it's a drug.

"S-shit… I'm gonna explode!" he growls, his body twitching.

She feels his cock pulsating in her mouth, his length fully erect and ready to burst. She drives herself to the brink of madness, her pace so fast and violent that she begins to gag. She doesn't care. She wants his semen. She needs it.

With a loud, guttural moan, his hips buck and his cock explodes, sending a massive load of his hot seed inside her mouth. Her eyes widen as she struggles to take it all in, but his release is too much, catching her off guard. A thick trail of his cum drips out of her mouth and down her chin. She gags and chokes, but she does her best to swallow every last drop. His orgasm continues for a few moments longer, his load continuing to spew inside her mouth, his cock pulsating and throbbing.

"Fuck! S-so good," he pants, his body shuddering.

After an almost non-stop stream of cum, his cock finally stops releasing, and Chaeyoung slowly withdraws from him. Thick strands of his semen and saliva connect his shaft and her lips, making an erotic mess of her. It seems crazy how such a pretty girl like her can look even more attractive with the amount of cum on her face.

"Goddamn," he says, his breathing heavy. "That was amazing."

She licks her lips clean, his cum still dripping down her chin.

"How was it, hmmm?" she asks, her voice sultry.

"Amazing. Best blowjob ever."

"Good," she smiles, her expression smug. "I can tell you enjoyed it."

"You bet I did."

"It's not everyday an idol would give anyone a… Special fanservice."

"Guess I'm a lucky fan, then."

"Lucky indeed. Though the game's not over yet, is it"

"What do you mean? I already came twice."

"Doesn't mean we're done, does it?"

Despite spurting such a huge amount twice in a row, her words seem to excite him still. His cock springs back to life, already at half-mast.

"You're right," he grins, leaning closer to her. "We're not done yet."

"That's the spirit," she smiles. "Though I'll be taking the lead."

"Oh?"

"You can rest for a bit," she says, her tone playful.

"You think I can't keep up with you?" he asks in an intrigued yet playful tone.

"Not really," she giggles. "You just look like you're about to pass out."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," she replies, chuckling. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

Feeling challenged, he quickly grabs Chaeyoung by her legs and lifts her up the water.

"I'm gonna show you that I can still keep up," he growls, his eyes full of determination.

"W-woah!" she yelps, taken aback by his sudden move. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a ride," he responds, his hands firmly gripping her thighs.

"Eh? A r-ride?"

"That's right," He nods, smiling. His cock slightly grazes against her inner thighs, slowly nearing her crotch. "You wanted to lead, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then here's your chance," he interrupts, grinning.

"Wait, what are you—oh! Oh fuck!" she gasps, suddenly feeling his cock penetrating her pussy.

He enters her with a powerful thrust, his shaft sliding all the way inside her tight, warm walls.

"Shit. So tight," he groans, his cock throbbing inside her.

"F-fuck… Y-you're so big!" she whimpers, feeling his girth stretching her insides.

"And you're soaking wet, Chaeyoung," he smirks, amused.

"W-what are you talking about? I'm not—ahh!" she moans, her body jolting with every thrust.

"I'm not gonna let you win that easily," he grunts, his pace slow but firm.

"Oh yeah? Nghh! Y-you… Think you're gonna w-win?"

"Still underestimating me, huh?" he growls, his fingers digging into her fleshy butt.

Despite the tough shell she displays, his aggressive moves make her moan involuntarily. Her arms wrap around his neck, while her legs lock around his waist. Try as she might, the immense pleasure seems to be flooding her inhibitions away.

"Nghh! F-fuck…"

"You're liking this, huh?" her partner taunts her as his pace quickens.

"Ahh… S-so good," she whispers, her voice shaking.

"That's what I thought," he smirks.

He continues to pound her with his cock, his shaft reaching her deepest depths.

"F-fuck! D-don't… Go faster!" Chaeyoung screams, her face flushed.

"Who do you think will win, huh?" he teases, his voice full of arrogance.

"Fuck you!" she snaps, her body trembling.

"I like it when you talk dirty," he chuckles, amused.

He thrusts his cock deep inside her, causing her to gasp.

"Nghhh! Shit!" she yells, her pussy tightening around his shaft.

"Feeling good?"

"N-no! I'm just… Mhhh!" she protests, her voice weak.

"Just admit it," he says, his cock pulsating inside her.

"Aghhh! T-that's cheating!" she complains, her body shuddering.

"Excuses, excuses…" he smirks, his thrusts becoming deeper and stronger.

"I'm gonna… W-win, you know," she boasts, challenging him.

"Really, huh?" he chuckles, looking at her dazed eyes. "Looks like you can't even think properly."

"You're just… Nghhh! You're moving too fast!" she exclaims, her voice weak.

"Then if that's the case…" he then walks slowly towards the pool stairs, his cock still deep inside her.

"W-what are you… Hahh! What are you doing?"

"Giving you a proper ride," he says, his tone smug.

He takes slow but heavy steps as he carries her towards the pool stairs, making her squeal with each movement.

"You… Y-you're so mean," she whines, her pussy tightening.

"Sorry, Chaeyoung. But we're against each other here," he says, his eyes full of mischief.

"Fuck!" she whispers angrily to herself in frustration.

"What's the matter?" he taunts, his cock sliding inside her with ease.

"N-nothing… Hngh!" she grunts, her teeth gritting.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Fuck! Just… Just fucking fuck me! Goddammit!" Chaeyoung admittedly yells, her face red and flushed.

"Now that's more like it," he smirks, amused.

Her partner resumes his relentless assault, pounding her hard and deep as they near the edge of the pool. Chaeyoung's moans are getting louder and louder, her body quivers as if she got shocked by lightning.

"Shit… You're so big…" she whispers, her body shaking with pleasure.

"Feeling good, aren't you?" he taunts, his pace steady.

"Nghh… No!" she replies, her trembling in frustration and pleasure. "T-this is… Fuck!"

"That's what I thought," he sneers.

"Ahhh! When are you gonna stop?" she whines, her voice full of desperation.

"When I'm done," he answers, his tone casual.

"Y-you…" she grunts, her face red. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Of course," he answers with a smug grin on his face.

"Oh, fuck me…" she whispers, her breathing heavy.

"Looks like someone's getting close," he comments, his voice full of amusement.

"No I'm not! I'm—fuck!" she snaps, her voice shaking.

"Come on. You're denying it but you're pussy's getting tighter," he teases.

"Nghh… Fine!" she finally gives in.

"I'm… Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"There we go," he smirks, his cock throbbing. "An honest answer."

"B-but… Not before you!" she shouts, her pussy squeezing his cock.

"Heh. Still got some fight left in you, huh?"

"M-maybe… I-I don't know!" she yells, her face red.

"Well, if that's the case, then I better make sure you can't keep up," he sneers, his cock pounding her with reckless abandon as he exits the pool. Despite his aggressive movements, he gently lowers Chaeyoung to the pool’s deck, his cock never leaving the tight embrace of her walls.

He then continues his relentless assault, his thrusts deep and rough. He moves his hands to her breasts and starts to massage her perky, erect nipples.

"F-fuck… Not my nipples!" she whimpers, her pussy clenching around his shaft.

"Feels good, huh?"

"Hahh… Y-yes," she admits, her face flushed.

"There’s a good girl," he smiles, his fingers pinching her nipples. He then leans forward to suck on them, his tongue swirling around her sensitive nubs.

"Aghh! Don't suck on them!" she whines, her voice weak.

He doesn't answer. He keeps on sucking her nipple as his cock pounds her as deep and as hard as he could.

"Fuck! I'm gonna go crazy, you asshole!" she yells, her face red and hot.

"That's what I like to hear," he chuckles.

"But I'm not… Losing… To you!" Chaeyoung grunts, sounding determined despite her weak position.

"We'll see about that," her partner replies, his pace picking up.

"Ahhh! Fuck! You're going too fast!" she protests, her hands reaching for his back, her nails digging into his skin.

He continues his relentless assault, his pace unrelenting as his cock ravages her insides.

"S-stop…" she whispers, her body shivering with pleasure. "I can't take it anymore!"

"Then cum," he says, his breath heavy. "I know you want to."

"B-but… But I…"

"Shhh…" he shushes her. "I'll do it with you."

"Nghh… B-but I'm not gonna lose to—"

His lips interrupt her words, gently crashing into hers. Chaeyoung tries to resist, but her mind becomes blank as his tongue slides into her mouth.

Despite the feisty attitude she's showing towards him, she kisses him back as their tongues intertwine in a passionate dance. Gone are their antagonistic antics against each other, and the only evident thing are fervent thrusts and muffled moans from the two of them.

The tension builds and their kiss grows more intense. Their hips move together as one, their bodies grinding against each other. They are locked in a passionate embrace, their desire burning deep within them.

"Fuck," he groans. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”

"Aghh! S-stop… You're making me…" she stammers, her voice soft.

"Come on, Chaeyoung. Give me all you got," he whispers, his cock pounding her deep.

"F-fuck…" she grunts, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm gonna cum again!"

"That's right," he coos in her ears. "Let me feel you cum."

"Y-yes!" she cries, her voice strained. "Oh shit… Ahh!"

With a loud moan, Chaeyoung’s pussy clenches his cock, her body convulsing as her orgasm hits her hard, waves of pleasure washing over her. She can't do anything but hold onto her partner’s back as her orgasm ravages her body, her arms and legs locked around him. Her juices spray uncontrollably out of her, covering his cock with her sticky fluids.

"Ahh! Fuck!" he yells, his body shivering as his orgasm approaches. "My turn… Hngh!"

"C-cum inside me, p-please…" she begs, her voice weak.

"Here it comes… Nrgh!"

After a few wild thrusts, his cock bursts inside her, releasing a huge load of his thick, hot seed. His hips rock and buck as his cock spews a massive stream of cum, his semen overflowing from her tight pussy.

"Yes! Oh fuck! Your cum feels so warm inside me," she moans, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Ugh… Take it all, Chaeyoung!" he growls as he continues to thrust all he's got inside her.

"Fuck… I can feel it coming out of my pussy," she moans, her pussy still squirting her fluids.

"Shit. You're so hot, Chaeyoung" he grunts and goes to kiss her once again.

"Mmmh… I love your cock," she purrs, her body shaking.

They continue this sensual moment, their bodies pressed together, their mouths locked in a passionate embrace. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure for the two of them, and they reveled every second of it. Despite being filmed, they didn't care. All that mattered was the moment they were sharing that burned deep within their minds.

As the intense lovemaking subsides, their lips break apart from each other. He withdraws himself from her, his cock covered with their mixed juices that connect from her freshly fucked pussy. He then moves a few inches away from her, trying to take a seated position with his exhausted body. Chaeyoung on the other hand, is left panting, her body trembling, her chest heaves for air and her pussy gushes out their mixed fluids, leaving a trail of love juice that pools below her.

"Hahh… Hah… Oh fuck…" he breathes, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Nghh… Are you… Okay?" Chaeyoung asks him, her voice barely audible.

"I'm… Whew. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah… I'm… I think I'm good," she replies, her body still shuddering with aftershocks.

"Fuck… That was good," her partner groans, his voice heavy.

"Do you… Want more?" she proposes as she tries to lift herself up the floor into a more comfortable position.

He crawls towards her, his seemingly tired body ready for yet another round.

"If that's what you want…"

The young lady is already feeling the effects of his relentless assault, her body trembling as she anticipates his cock pounding her once more with reckless abandon. But the pleasure of having her insides ravaged by his girthy shaft is too much for her, and she is helpless to resist his advances.

"Mmmh… Keep going," she urges him on, her voice shaky.

But as they ready themselves to have another go, the buzzer rings, indicating that time is up.

"Huh? Already?" the young man groans.

"Looks like we got carried away," she giggles, her breathing heavy.

"Yeah," he snarls. "I got so lost in all that."

"So… Who won?" she asks, her tone curious.

"Not sure," he shrugs. "You?"

She looks confused.

“Me? I don’t know.”

The screen then showed the result of this rather interesting game:

"RESULTS:

3-2 in favor of Chaeyoung!

CONGRATULATIONS! You succeeded in the challenge!"

"Oh wow," he smiles.

"Really? I did! Yay!" she cheers, clapping her hands in excitement.

"Yeah, you did. Good job, Chaeyoung," her partner congratulates her, clapping his hands as well.

"Thank you!" she replies as she gives him a hug, her face beaming with joy.

"You're a great partner," he praises her. "It was a lot of fun."

"Thank you again," she blushes. She then looks around her.

"So what now?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "No one told me what to do after the challenge."

The screen then shows a new message for the two of them:

"Congratulations on completing the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area. Have fun!"

"Huh. So we're gonna wait, then," Chaeyoung concludes, reading the message.

"Looks like it," he replies, shrugging.

"What are we supposed to do until then?"

"Who knows," he shrugs, then looks at her with a sly smile.

"We can… Start where we left off, you know?"

"Hmmm…" she smiles, her cheeks slightly turning pink. "We can do that."

"Fuck. Aren't you restless?"

Albeit struggling due to the intense fucking from earlier, Chaeyoung still chose to stand up on her feet, her legs wobbling. Luckily for her, he’s there to give assistance. She then gestures to her partner to stand up, to which he obliges. As soon as they've gathered their footing, she suddenly gives him a rather obvious gaze.

"M-maybe we can do something else first," she suggests, grinning mischievously.

"Uhh... What did you have in mind?" he asks, curious.

She then walks back towards the pool, gently tugging him along.

"I just want to swim around for a bit," she replies, smiling. "Do you mind joining me?"

"Sure," he replies, his eyes fixated on hers. "I suppose a little swim would be nice."

"Great." Chaeyoung beams with joy.

"Let's go."

As the two dip their bodies into the pool, the camera follows them from above as they enjoy each other's company in the water. They swim around, playing and laughing together. They exchange more playful banters and even more sensual moments with one another. It is clear that the two of them have hit it off quite well, and the sexual tension between them continues to build. Even as the video fades to black, you know Chaeyoung and her partner are just getting started.

Two videos down, and many more to go. Reviewing videos for long periods is tiring, but not in this case. Instead of exhaustion, you are filled with renewed excitement and anticipation. With a quick check of the time, you realize that lunch break is coming up. But your stomach would have to wait.

You close the current window and open the next video file.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

As promised, this is the next chapter of my "Spotlighting" series. It wasn't easy to pick an idea that'll suit Chaeyoung. I originally wanted her to do an "indoor surfing" challenge. But I quickly realize that I'd rather want her to be rag dolled by her partner than by the waves. 😂 And as wimpy as this tall squirrel can be, I don't think she'd back down from a challenge, especially when there's something promising on the line. So I guess playing water polo suits her.

Now that I thought of it... It's find it interesting for the idols to have some sort of "competition" with their partners. It really makes for some really wild ideas where neither of them is backing out, even when doing the deed. 😏

Once again, thank you to the people that helped me make this fic readable. 🤣 @digipigichopshop and @dnd-writes... Thank you so much, you two. 🙇 Be sure to follow them if you haven't already. As well as @braaan for another great poster. You guys are the best. 👍

Again, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #fromis9smut #chaeyoungsmut #leechaeyoungsmut

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insomniac4000 · 3 months ago

Note

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

"We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

#willne #will lenney #willne x reader

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chelseachilly · 10 months ago

Text

falling for you

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: as a reporter for chelsea and england, you and ben have always been friendly - and sometimes a bit flirty - but you never imagined a fluke injury while filming a youtube video could lead to something more warnings: mentions of minor injury, mainly just fluff ☺️ word count: 6.4k

author's note: hope you like this one! it was a lot of fun to write and definitely my longest one-shot yet hahah. fc is olivia buzalgo obviously lol

As a reporter for both the England national team and Chelsea, you’ve always tried your best to remain professional and not show favouritism towards any of the players.

For the most part, this hasn’t been an issue. While you do spend a lot of your time with incredibly fit guys around your age, they’ve never been anything other than colleagues or, at the most, friends.

Except for Ben Chilwell.

He had been on your radar professionally for some time before you met, as he was an up and coming talent at Leicester and for England. You always thought he was good looking when you watched him play on television, but you didn’t really know much about him.

It wasn’t until he signed for Chelsea in the summer of 2020 that things changed.

You were tasked with conducting Ben’s first interview for the club, and the two of you hit it off immediately. You felt like you had known him your whole life within the hour you spent together in a small room at Cobham, chatting about his career and his goals at Chelsea.

You also learned quickly that Ben wasn’t just attractive - there was something magnetic about him. You felt instantly at ease around him, yet he also made your heart rate triple with a quick smile as you passed in the hallway or a glance in your direction while he’s on the pitch.

While you would never dream of pursuing him, partly because it’s unprofessional and partly because there’s no way he feels the same way, the connection between you two hasn’t exactly gone unnoticed.

Every time you post an Instagram story of you working with Ben or a video of you interviewing him is released, the comments and replies are flooded with fans speculating about whether you two are dating. You always feel a bit embarrassed, wondering if he’s seeing these responses too, but you continue to post the content for two reasons:

One, because your content with Ben always performs the best, meaning your bosses are always encouraging more of it;

And two, because you’re super into him and you’ll take any excuse to work with or spend time with him.

So, despite all the speculation, you continue to post pics with Ben whenever you’re working together, and the occasional borderline-flirty comments he leaves certainly don’t help matters.

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount and others yourusername Always a pleasure with the best left-back in the league @benchilwell ☺️ view all comments benchilwell High praise from the best reporter in the game 😉 chelsfan1 ooh i think chilly has a crush on y/n benfan2 they are never beating the secretly dating allegations 🤨

The seemingly flirty comments he sometimes makes in person don’t help matters, either - certainly not for your growing crush on him. You find yourself both looking forward to and dreading every opportunity to film something with him, loving every minute of your time with him but wishing deep down that it could lead to something more.

You’ve hung out a bit outside of work, too, sometimes grabbing something to eat after a shoot or partying together after Chelsea have won a big game. You’re friends, but that’s all you are. You’re painfully reminded of that every time you read about the latest gorgeous model he’s dating.

That doesn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat when your boss emails you your next assignment, a video with Ben and Conor. They’re two of your closest friends on the team, so it should be a dream day of work for you to film a silly video with them for the club’s socials, but you’re more nervous than usual.

Ben’s been a little bit flirtier than usual lately, bringing you coffee when you’re working at Cobham and sending you funny TikToks throughout the day. You’re not reading too much into it, but it’s definitely going to make it harder for you to ignore your feelings for him.

But you’ll at least have Conor and the camera crew there, so it won’t be that bad. You hope.

You arrive at Cobham bright and early that day, already dressed and having done your own makeup as per usual for a shoot like this. You meet up with the cameraman, Brian, who you frequently work with, to go over the plan.

“You nervous?” Brian asks when you walk into the office, a small smirk on his face.

You can feel your face go pale and your eyes widen. “What? Wh-why would I be nervous?”

“Because of the shoot,” Brian says blankly, raising an eyebrow at you. “You know, how you were saying you’re awful at football…”

Ah, yes. The normal reason for you to be nervous.

Truthfully, your mind has been so taken up with thoughts of seeing Ben that you haven’t worried too much about the video itself. The premise is that the boys will demonstrate some football skills and you’re supposed to try to replicate them. You’re hardly a footballer, so it’s really just meant to be lighthearted, funny content for fans who like your dynamic with the boys.

“Oh, right,” you say with a small laugh. “I’m sure it won’t be too bad. How hard can it be?”

Brian just laughs, ignoring your slightly odd behaviour from before. “Yeah, you’ll be fine.”

A little while later, you make your way out to the training pitch where you’re meeting the guys, and you smile when you see Ben has shown up early and is kicking the ball around and scrolling on his phone. He stops and smiles when he sees you approaching.

“Y/N, hey!” he exclaims, pulling you into a quick hug. “You alright?”

“Hey, Ben,” you reply, in a bit of a trance as you pull back from the hug. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Great,” Ben grins. “You ready to learn a few things?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s not every day that I get a free football lesson from the stars of Chelsea FC,” you tease.

“Yeah, you basically won the lotto,” Ben chuckles.

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk. “You’re comparing a morning with you to winning the lottery?”

Before your banter can continue, you see Conor and the rest of the video crew approaching and you’re brought back to reality - in which Ben is your coworker, not your boyfriend, and you have a job to do.

You quickly hug Conor hello and chat for a minute while the guys set up the filming equipment. You can tell they’re in high spirits from the recent winning streak they’ve been on, making the atmosphere around Cobham better all around.

Once it’s time to get started, you get into position and begin your intro, explaining the premise of the video.

You start off with some easier skills, watching Ben and Conor demonstrate before attempting them yourself. You’re definitely not a professional, but you played a bit as a kid, so you can handle a few kick ups and headers.

As things start to get a bit more complicated, you’re definitely struggling more, but the boys are very sweet and encouraging. Honestly, you’re not too concerned with showcasing your abilities - it’s just a funny video, and it’s part of the job. You don’t think any of the fans are expecting you to be the next Leah Williamson or something, but you still try your best for the sake of the challenge.

The final skill you have to do is a bit of a trickier one, a crossover. Ben shows you how to do it with ease, obviously, before encouraging you to give it a go.

After a couple failed attempts that you hope the video editor cuts out, you finally manage one, and both Ben and Conor cheer for you like you just won the Champions League.

“You’re a pro, Y/N,” Ben grins. “Wanna go again?”

With a sudden boost of confidence, you nod, and Ben kicks the ball back to you. You kick it up a few times and meet Ben’s gaze with a small smile before jumping up and swinging your leg around the ball again.

Only this time, instead of landing perfectly on your feet, you land directly on the side of your left ankle and fall over.

There’s a shooting pain up your leg, but that’s overshadowed by the immediate embarrassment you’re feeling. The moment you catch your breath and sit up, Ben is already at your side with his hand on your upper back, asking if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you insist, before you’ve even had time to assess if that’s true. “Just give me a sec and we can keep going, sorry guys.”

“Are you sure?” Brian asks, setting his camera down on the tripod after he stopped filming. “It looked like you twisted your ankle pretty bad.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you say, though the pain has begun to settle in and it definitely doesn’t feel like nothing. “Ben, can you help me up?”

Ben looks hesitant, his eyes flitting from your ankle back up to your face, but he nods and grabs both your hands to help lift you to your feet.

You’re determined to soldier on and finish the video with minimal humiliation, but the moment you put the slightest bit of weight on your left foot, you wince sharply and feel tears begin to brim in your eyes.

Ben immediately catches you and carefully lowers you back to the ground, keeping a hand on your back.

“Y/N, you’re hurt,” Ben says, eyes full of concern. “It’s your ankle?”

You nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will tremble from the pain.

“We should take her to one of the physios to get it looked at,” Conor suggests.

“I’m sure they have more important things to deal with,” you mumble, feeling a bit more grounded by the way Ben is gently rubbing your back, giving you something other than the pain to focus on.

“Not really, we don’t have training today so most of the boys aren’t even here,” Ben assures you. “I’ll take you there now.”

You’re about to ask how you’re going to get all the way up to the physio offices if you can’t even stand, but you don’t have to wonder for long before Ben is carefully slipping his arm under your knees.

You let out a small gasp as you’re swept off your feet, suddenly finding yourself in Ben’s arms.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asks quickly, misinterpreting your surprise for pain.

“No, I’m good,” you say quietly. Despite the shooting pain, this is partially true - how could you not be good when you’re currently being carried bridal style by the guy you’ve had a crush on for years.

“Sorry, guys,” you say to Conor and the crew. “Maybe once they look at my ankle we can continue-“

“There’s no way you’re walking on that today, and we have enough content for the video,” Brian tells you. “Go get checked out and let us know how you’re feeling, alright?”

“I will,” you smile. “Thanks.”

“Good to go?” Ben asks you, and you nod.

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you with ease up to the physio department, feeling strangely comfortable in this position you never expected to be in. You love the feeling of being in his arms, how safe and protected you feel even in your vulnerable state.

Once you arrive at the physio rooms, Ben sets you down gently on one of the beds and runs to grab someone. He returns moments later with Billy, who you’ve met a few times around the club. He’s a kind man who you know is particularly close with many of the players, including Ben.

“Hi there, Y/N, let’s take a look at that ankle,” he says gently. “Ben, mind grabbing some ice?”

“Of course.”

Ben goes over to the freezer and grabs a bag of ice while Billy carefully removes your shoe and sock, the action alone making tears form in your eyes once again.

“Let’s ice it for a few minutes first,” Billy suggests after seeing the state of your rapidly swelling ankle. “I’ll go get you something for the pain.”

After he takes the ice pack from Ben and gently places it on your foot, relieving the throbbing a little bit, Billy leaves the room. Ben pulls up a chair next to you and lightly touches your arm.

“You doing alright? That looks like a bad one,” Ben says, his voice impossibly even softer than before as he sees the pain you’re experiencing.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m just so humiliated, to be honest. Leave it to me to injure myself on video, and in front of my coworkers and two professional footballers.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, love, that could’ve happened to anyone,” Ben insists, making your heart jump at the tender nickname. “It’s my fault, I encouraged you to go again. I’m so sorry you got hurt, I feel awful.”

“No, Ben, absolutely not,” you say quickly. “It was just a dumb accident. I think I got a bit too confident in my football abilities.”

“Well, you were doing great,” he smiles. “I think the fans will love the video. Just like everything else you do.”

You’re grateful that Billy walks back in right in that moment, both because of the pain meds he has for you and because it diverts Ben’s attention from your now flushed cheeks.

As Billy begins your assessment, you turn back to Ben.

“You really don’t have to stay, I’m sure you have better things to do with the rest of your day.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N, I’m not going anywhere,” Ben says definitively.

You’re sure you’re blushing again, but it’s quickly overshadowed by your grimacing in pain as Billy gently rotates and palpates your foot. Ben’s presence calms you down massively as Billy runs some tests to determine the extent of your injury.

After it’s determined that it’s just a bad sprain, Billy puts you in a boot and gives you crutches to get around for the next few days. He says to go for an x-ray if it doesn’t improve in the next two weeks, but that you should be walking fine by then.

Once you’re cleared to leave, Ben offers to grab your stuff from the media team offices as you rack your brain to think about how you’re going to get both yourself and your car home.

He returns with your bag slung over his shoulder and another gentle, heartwarming, completely irresistible smile on his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I just need to call my parents and see when they’ll be able to make it,” you tell him. “It might be a while, but I’m fine to wait here. I’ve already taken up way too much of your time.”

Ben just furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t your parents live in North London?”

You just blink at him for a second, completely surprised that he remembers this detail you hardly remember sharing with him, before nodding.

“That could take hours with traffic, I’ll just take you,” he insists.

“That’s really nice, Ben, but I also have to get my car home somehow.”

“So I’ll drive you home in your car, then Uber back to get mine later,” he says nonchalantly.

“Ben-“

“Please just let me do this, Y/N,” Ben pleads. “I swear it’s no trouble.“

After a moment of deliberation, you find yourself agreeing with him. It could take hours for your parents to get here, and you’re really looking forward to being home on your couch after the day you’ve had.

He helps you down to the car park, matching your slow pace and opening all the doors for you, and then helps you get into the passenger seat of your car. You feel mildly embarrassed that he has to drive your tiny little vehicle that probably cost only a fraction of his weekly pay, but he immediately tells you how nice it is and cracks a joke about how much cleaner it is than his own, putting you at ease.

You play some music while he drives, chatting about some of the recent changes at the club as you give him directions to your flat. About halfway there, you notice how his phone that he placed in the drink holder between you is incessantly buzzing.

“Do you need to get that?”

“No, it’s alright,” Ben shrugs. “Probably just the boys. I was supposed to go to my mate’s house after we wrapped up, but I’ll text them and explain. He won’t mind.”

You instantly feel terrible for keeping him from hanging out with his friends on a rare day off from training.

“Ben, I-“

“Y/N, it’s really no big deal,” he says, looking over at you now that you’re stopped at a red light. “They’re not going to care that I bailed on playing FIFA to help my injured friend.“

You nod and smile at him, holding his gaze until the light turns green and the person behind you is honking at you to drive.

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, conorgallagher92 and others yourusername Before and after attempting to keep up with professional footballers…I’ll keep my day job lol 😅 view all comments benchilwell You'll be back on the pitch with us in no time 🥰 conorgallagher92 Hope you're feeling better!! You did great 😊 chelsfan3 aww poor y/n, what happened?? yourfriend Get well soon babe! x benfan4 Omg Y/N and Ben...need this video out asap (and hope she's ok!)

The next few days pass fairly uneventfully as you’re laid up on your couch icing your ankle and watching Netflix.

Thankfully, you didn’t have any in-person work commitments this week, and you’re able to do some prep for next week’s interviews from the comfort of your own home.

Although the injury is certainly a disruption to your routine, the most significant change is the sheer amount of attention you’ve been receiving from Ben ever since.

After he helped you get home and learned that your flatmate is on holiday for two weeks and you would be home all alone, he insisted on staying and making you something to eat. He only left once he was confident that you were comfortable and had everything you needed.

Since then, he’s texted you way more than he ever has before, constantly checking in and asking if you need anything. As much as you would love for him to come over every day and watch movies or have dinner with you, you have a nagging feeling that he just feels guilty about your injury. You like him so much, even more so for how sweet and attentive he’s being, but you don’t want to take advantage of that kindness.

After the third day of being bored at home, though, you’re starting to go a little stir crazy, and it’s hard to resist when Ben texts you.

True to his word, Ben shows up at 5:45 with Nando’s for both of you, having remembered your order from one time you went together after an interview he did for Sky.

After teasing him during dinner for never having finished the films, you decide to watch the fourth Harry Potter movie, Ben helping you settle in on the couch with your leg up before sitting right next to you.

As time passes, he gets progressively closer to you, until his arm is resting on the back of the sofa. He’s not quite touching you, but after he selects the next film, silently looking at you to see if you want him to stay, you feel a bit braver. After nodding with a smile, prompting Ben to hit play and settle back into the cushions, you shift slightly closer to him and lean into his body.

“You’re warm,” you say, suddenly feeling the need to justify your closeness when you feel his muscles tense slightly.

When you feel him shift away from you, you’re completely humiliated for misreading the situation. What on earth were you thinking trying to cuddle with him? You don’t cuddle with your other friends.

But these thoughts are quickly shut down as Ben grabs the blanket from the opposite end of the couch and drapes it over both of you, then raises his arm to invite you to lean back into him with a smile on his face.

You hesitate only a moment before curling back up to him, your head now resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you.

You’re so comfortable and at ease in this position, despite it being completely new and a bit terrifying, that you can feel yourself drifting off less than halfway through the movie. You swear you feel Ben press a kiss to your forehead, but you’re not sure if it’s real or you’re already dreaming.

When you wake up again, the credits are rolling and Ben is half-asleep with his head resting on top of yours.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” you murmur with a small yawn, reluctantly extracting yourself from his embrace.

“It’s okay, you needed the rest,” Ben says softly, his voice a bit gravelly from lack of use.

God, you want to kiss him so bad.

“It’s late, do you have training in the morning?” you ask.

“Yeah, at nine,” Ben confirms. “So I suppose I should get going. Do you need anything before I do?”

“No, thank you, though,” you say. “For everything, Ben. You’ve been so amazing, I really cant thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Ben says softly, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “You’ve always been so nice and supportive when I was injured, whether you’re interviewing me about it or we’re just chatting privately, and I don’t think I ever told you how much I appreciate that. How much I appreciate you.”

Your cheeks are growing hotter as you hold his gaze, his bright blue eyes staring into yours with a new kind of intensity you’ve never seen before.

As much as you desperately want to lean in and press your lips to his, or even tell him how you feel, you’ve grown to treasure your connection with him too much to risk anything. You have to be sure.

“You’re welcome, Ben,” you say. “I’m glad I could help. I’ve always hated seeing you go through that.”

Ben nods, squeezing your hand once more before letting go.

“I’ll text you tomorrow, keep taking it easy and feel free to call me if there’s anything you need. At all.”

“Thanks,” you say once again, rising and grabbing your crutches to walk him out and so you can lock the door behind him. “I’ll be okay. But I will probably have to miss the game on Sunday, not sure I’ll be up for the journey to Newcastle.”

You hate missing Chelsea games, whether they’re home or away, but even if you secure a spot on the team jet and you have a comfy spot in one of the boxes, it would be a lot to navigate on crutches.

“Of course, we’ll all miss seeing you, though,” Ben says. “Won’t feel right doing the interview with someone else after we win.”

“I love the confidence, but you speak with other interviewers all the time,” you tease him gently.

“Yeah, and I always wish they were you,” he admits as he slides his shoes on. “Good night, love.”

He steps forward, cupping your face and pressing another kiss to your forehead - this one definitely not a dream - but pulls back much too quickly for your liking.

“Good night, Ben,” you’re barely able to choke out, your heart rate nearly triple its usual pace.

The moment he’s gone, you crutch back over to the sofa and flop down, letting out a long exhale.

Surely, he would’ve kissed you when he had the chance if he fancied you, right?

But, at the same time, no matter how nice of a person he is or how much he treasures your friendship, you doubt he would spend his whole evening cuddling with you if he didn’t want to.

As you settle in and press play on yet another movie - the perks of not having work in the morning - you try to put all thoughts of Ben out of your mind. This proves difficult, considering the blanket you’re using still smells a bit like his cologne, and because you haven’t really stopped thinking about him since the day you met.

The next week, after Chelsea defeat Newcastle 3-1 with a spectacular assist from Ben that you really wish you could’ve seen in person, you’re back at work.

You’re doing an interview with Pochettino this afternoon to talk about the win and how the season is turning around, which is a great opportunity for you, career-wise.

You just wish that it hadn’t happened on a day when you’re still hobbling around in a boot and Brian is stuck in traffic, meaning you have to set up for the interview yourself. Thankfully, you’re no longer on crutches, but by the second trip down the stairs from the media office to the room where you’re doing the interview, your ankle is really starting to protest all the walking.

Just as you’re taking a break in the middle of the stairwell, propping the tripod you were carrying up against the wall and taking a seat, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching and mentally prepare yourself to explain what you’re doing just chilling on the stairs.

“Y/N!”

The sound of the familiar voice calling your name relaxes you a bit, your shoulders slumping as you see the same smile that has been imprinted in your brain for the past week.

“Someone told me you were in today but I couldn’t find you in the media office,” he says, the smile on his face fading as he notes your slightly pained expression. “Are you alright, love?”

Since your injury, he’s called you “love” more times than you can ever recall him saying to anyone before, making your stomach fill with butterflies every time.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you insist. “Just…taking a break.”

Ben narrows his eyes, and you know you aren’t fooling him, as much as you don’t want any more pity or guilty looks from him.

“In the stairwell? Wait - you aren’t carrying equipment yourself, are you? Y/N-“

“Brian’s stuck in traffic, and I’m interviewing Poch in an hour. I’m not going to waste his time because we were late to set up.”

“Y/N, there’s no way I’m letting you carry anything else down these stairs,” Ben says seriously, reaching out to carry the tripod under one arm and offering you a hand with the other.

You take his hand and let him pull you to your feet, but you still can’t help but protest.

“Don’t you have training right now?”

“Nah, just finished,” he says, beginning to walk down the stairs and keeping a hand hovering behind your back as if he’s afraid you’ll topple over. “We have a break for lunch now before we hit the gym.”

“But-“

“I’ll have plenty of time to help you and eat,” Ben says, now countering your arguments for accepting help before you can even make them.

Once you get down to the room of the interview, Ben insists you sit down and elevate your leg while he grabs the rest of the stuff. On his final trip, he comes back with your folder of notes in one hand and a bag with lunch and drinks for both of you in the other.

You don’t know how he keeps continuing to surprise you with his sweet gestures, but somehow he’s one-upped himself yet again. You sit on the floor and eat the sandwiches he grabbed from the cafeteria together while he helps you review your talking points for the interview.

He doesn’t get up to leave until Brian arrives to finish setting up, ensuring that someone will be there to prevent you from doing any more physical labour.

“Can I give you a ride home today?” Ben offers as he helps you up off the floor. “You still can’t drive with that on, right?”

You glance down at the cumbersome boot. Unfortunately, you did injure your driving foot, which means you had to get an Uber here today. You’re about to tell him you can get another one home, not wanting to inconvenience him any more, but you know that he’s just going to refuse.

“That would be great, Ben, thanks,” you smile, squeezing his hands before letting go. “I should be done here in about an hour and a half.”

“That’s perfect,” he grins. “Good luck with the interview, I know you’ll smash it.”

He jogs away to head to the gym, which you suspect he’s now late for, leaving you in a bit of a daze with a completely lovestruck expression on your face.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Brian says a moment later with a smirk, snapping you out of your trance.

“I-I do not,” you insist quickly, your eyes wide.

“I was talking about Chilly,” he says, chuckling a bit at your frantic denial. “But now that you mention it, you have always gotten on particularly well with him. No wonder the fans are always commenting about the vibes between you.”

“Oh, shush,” you roll your eyes. “There are no…vibes. He’s just being nice because of my ankle.”

“Right, I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Brian retorts sarcastically.

You pull out your phone and see that the Instagram stories you posted earlier are garnering lots of attention, your replies full of fans commenting on how sweet Ben is - something you’re well aware of.

yourusername via instagram stories

Thankfully, Brian can’t tease you much longer before Poch shows up for the interview. You say hello and settle in before getting started.

About 30 minutes later, you have everything you need from him and thank the coach for his time and a great conversation. You and Brian head back to the media offices to get to work on early edits of the video, a part of the process that you’re not really required to help with, but you always enjoy being as involved as possible.

You’re wrapping up and sending the file to the media team for final edits when Ben appears in the doorway, freshly showered and now wearing grey sweatpants and a hoodie that really look unfairly good on him instead of his training kit.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “I’ll just grab my bag-"

Ben is already walking over and grabbing it for you so you don’t have to carry anything, and you both say goodbye to Brian before heading for the car park.

He opens the door to his car for you, even though you’re definitely capable of getting in yourself now, and then he begins to drive to your place, no longer requiring any directions.

“So, how was the interview?” Ben asks after a moment of comfortable silence.

“It was great,” you say. “He speaks very highly of you, you know. Not that I blame him after that assist on Sunday.”

“You watched?” Ben asks, his eyes lit up with joy as he glances over at you.

“Of course, I wasn’t gonna miss it just cause I couldn’t be there in person,” you smile. “You were brilliant.”

You can’t tear your eyes away from Ben’s gorgeous smile as he continues to drive - improved only by your compliments being the reason for it.

You continue to chat about the game and other things until you arrive in front of your building. It’s hard to keep the slightly sad expression off your face when Ben pulls into the driveway and you know you have to say goodbye to him again.

All you want is to drag him inside with you and never let him go, but you know that isn’t realistic. Sure, he’s been wonderful and caring and attentive all week, but you’re sure that as soon as your ankle heals, everything will go back to how it was.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks once he puts the car in park and notices the look on your face. “Is it your ankle? Is it bothering you?”

“No, no,” you say, quickly dissuading his worries. “It’s nothing, I’m all good.”

He nods, but the concerned expression doesn’t quite leave his face. “I’ve been worried about you. You know, being here by yourself and stuff.”

Though your stomach flips once again at his soft tone, you try to ignore it. He’s just being nice. He’s a nice person. That’s why you like him so damn much.

“It’s okay, my mum has come around a few times and my flatmate will be home on Saturday,” you tell him. “Besides, I’m completely fine. I know you feel a bit guilty, but it’s just a sprained ankle. You’ve been so sweet looking after me, but I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

Ben blinks at you for a moment before letting out a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s not…I mean, I did feel a bit guilty, but that’s not why I wanted to take care of you. It’s because I care about you.”

You frown in confusion. “I’m not saying you don’t care about me, Ben, I care about you too, but-“

“Y/N, for gods sake,” Ben cuts you off, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just that I care about you, okay? I care about the boys, but I don’t exactly turn up with dinner and cuddle with Reece or Trev when they’re injured.”

As you realize what he’s implying, your breath catches in your throat and you find it hard to speak at all, let alone say the right thing.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but the only thing you can think to do in the moment is the thing you’ve been dreaming about doing for the past three years - you lean across the console and press your lips firmly to his.

You have a brief feeling of terror that you’ve misunderstood what he was saying, until Ben starts to kiss you back and you no longer have any thoughts in your brain that aren’t of his lips.

He parts his mouth slightly and you kiss him harder, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair. You sigh into his mouth, in pure ecstasy as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

You only part when you both need to come up for air, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away from him, lingering close. Ben brushes his nose against yours, and you watch as he slowly opens his eyes.

“Y/N,” he breathes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to,” you murmur, slowly pulling back from him. “Why…why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable since we work together a lot,” Ben admits. “I thought about bringing it up every time we hung out outside of work, but I always chickened out.”

“Oh,” you exhale, your mind whirring with a million different thoughts. “I never knew you felt that way about me.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I flirt with you all the time! There’s a reason the fans are always posting about us online, saying I fancy you and stuff. I thought it was obvious.”

You could nearly scream at your own obliviousness - if only because it delayed what was just most definitely the best kiss of your life - but you never thought in a million years that Ben would choose you over all the other options he has available to him, over all the perfect girls you’ve seen fawn over him at games and parties.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve told me now, even if it took me falling over and injuring myself for us to get here,” you laugh under your breath, making him roll his eyes at you with affection.

“I’m definitely not glad you got hurt, but I was happy to have an excuse to spend more time with you,” Ben admits. “I just…always want to spend time with you.”

You’re blushing like crazy again, but this time, you don’t care that Ben can see. When he reaches out to cup your face and stroke your cheek with his thumb, you don’t shy away from him, your bashful smile mirroring his.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he asks. “There’s this amazing French restaurant in Richmond, I would love to take you if you want.”

You’re giddy at the thought of an actual, romantic first date with Ben, though you’ve felt more romance eating sandwiches on the floor and chatting in crowded stadiums and walking to get coffee with him than you have on any “real” first date you’ve ever had.

“I would love to,” you smile.

“Okay,” Ben grins. “I’ll pick you up at seven, then?”

You nod, feeling pure elation as Ben begins to lean in to seal your agreement with a kiss. It feels so natural, it’s hard to believe your first one was just minutes ago.

“Can I help you inside?” Ben offers once you’ve pulled away again.

He knows full well that you’re completely capable of walking to the door by yourself, but you’re not offended by his chivalrous behaviour, especially now that you know he has a very good reason for it.

“Only if you kiss me again at the door,” you respond, smirking at him playfully, and his eyes light up with delight.

“I can definitely do that.”

please let me know what you thought!! i love your comments and asks more than anything 💕

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #chelsea fc imagine #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #my fics

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brian-in-finance · 3 months ago

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Thanks for the message, Anon. 😃

So… 18 links… 🤯. Tumblr wouldn’t let me post your message as “was,” so I followed the links, played a mean game of Copy & Paste and added some pics.

Reading through the reviews on Letterboxd to find the six you chose revealed a few things about the film no mainstream review I saw had revealed. Note to self: think carefully about the viewing company you keep.

Caitríona Balfe from “Outlander” plays the boxer’s girlfriend Caitlin, who exists in a constant state of worry. Understandably. But it’s a dull part for a magnetic actress.

New York Post 8 September 2024

Caitlin (an excellent Caitríona Balfe of “Belfast” fame)… a movie that ultimately doesn’t quite add up to enough, especially when Balfe walks out for too long in the final act. See it for the cast, especially the three leads, but it’s more of a technical knockout than a stunning victory.

Roger Ebert 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe (“Belfast,” “Outlander”) can be an uncommonly grounded actress, and she and Bloom create a lived-in relationship that humanizes and creates real stakes for the pugilistic histrionics that surround it. His character’s lack of a name may position him as an everyman, but the little moments of their relationship – glances, raised eyebrows, tilted heads – give his couple a specificity and a shared history in a way exposition never could… film is bookended by quiet scenes between a man and a woman, by beautifully understated performances by Bloom and Balfe.

The Wrap 7 September 2024

The boxer’s wife and business partner (Outlander’s Caitríona Balfe giving more than her role deserves)

The Guardian 6 September 2024

… wife, business partner, and one-time boxing manager, Caitlin (Caitríona Balfe, the film’s secret weapon).

The Playlist 6 September 2024

Despite a trio of knockout performances, The Cut is a lackluster boxing drama… (Caitríona) Balfe gives a thankless role her all as the lone woman in this boys' club. Caitlin has a dark past too, alluding to a struggle with addiction. But we never learn any of her past in detail despite numerous and repetitive flashbacks to Boxer's bleak childhood. Instead, it's left to Balfe to convey it all through Caitlin's stricken expressions and misplaced devotion to Boxer. She even gets a few moments to shine as a fighter herself, training Boxer for his fight before Boz takes over… Balfe is a sublime talent, but she deserves far better material that doesn't rely on her to make up for deficiencies in the writing… Because despite these three strong performances… The Cut has the potential to be something fresh and interesting with three particularly fine actors at its heart.

Entertainment Weekly 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe and John Tuturo’s colliding performances gave the film a realistic edge, which makes the audience question their own morals.

Movie Scene Canada (Twitter) 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe is equally compelling as a supportive wife and coach to her boxer husband.

Movie Moves Me 6 September 2024

The Cut is it is one of few boxing films that gives the female lead a pivotal role that’s more than a love interest/nagging the fighter to quit. Caitríona Balfe is a tough-as-nails trainer who gets in the ring w/ Orlando & may throw a punch!

Flick Chick DC (Twitter) 5 September 2024

(Caitríona) Balfe is fierce as Caitlin. She’s simultaneously supportive and a fighter. Her verbal spats with Boz are a treat, and she’s honestly the character who best balances strength and emotional maturity.

Screen Rant 7 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe was the main highlight, for me. It's difficult to pull off the role of voice of reason against the hell-bent protagonist without coming off as annoying or making it feel like they're just slowing the story down, but she killed it.

Reddit 6 September 2024

(Caitríona) Balfe (and John) Turturro.. are never less than engaging and believable in their side parts.

IndieWire 5 September 2024

Bloom… gives a great, dedicated, and physically challenging performance — as does the wonderful Caitríona Balfe

Bloom promised us all a stiff drink for enduring this movie and I think that says a lot. (Caitríona) Balfe was great.

The cast is phenomenal. Turturro is marvelous as The Boss, pushing our fighters to their literal breaking point. (Caitríona) Balfe gives a heart wrenching performance of a former addict watching their partner fall into their own addiction.

I think Caitlin's character gets a little bit lost, and she was such a great part of the movie, I wish they did a little bit more with her.

Orlando Bloom and John Turturro are very good but I really think the star is Caitríona Balfe!! She was very underutilized.

Performances are good, especially Orlando's and Caitríona Balfe's. To me she was the standout.

Letterboxd 5 & 6 September 2024

Remember… what distinguishes modern art from the art of other ages is criticism. — Octavio Paz

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #Inbox #Anonymous #The Cut #2024 #Caitríona Balfe #Reviews #5-8 September 2024 #Received/Responded 9 September 2024

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yeonmuse · 14 hours ago

Text

MINI SERIES | YANG JUNGWON

CAN YOU HEAR MY HEART?

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Jungwon falls for an antisocial girl with a passion for music and a love for the stars.

GENRE, fluff, slow burn , smau

( 𝐁𝐚𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ) : I honestly have no idea where this came from I just thought of anti social Jungwon and Anti social reader coming together and this is where it got me

Part 1

Jungwon spent years perfecting his craft, spent years further building his experience and techniques with his cinematography skills. Since the age of nine he had always found delight in having held a camera in his hands, by the age of 16 he experienced his first movie that opened his eyes into the world that was cinematography girl interrupted, though the movie itself was gruesome and somber it was one which he favored for its overbearing cinematography, the color grading and timing of every scene pulled the audience in and forced them to feel everything that the protagonist herself had experienced. Age seventeen his parents gifted him a camera for his birthday, a camera which further sparked his love for film and cinema. He and his friends would find themselves making short films or every log of their lives, though it became even more serious for Jungwon when a short film made by the seven of them won their towns film festival and earned him a full ride scholarship into any university of his choice.

She didn’t like people, she never liked people because they made her far too nervous for a multitude of listed reasons. From the age of six to eight children always proved to be rude, mean and annoying. She’d simply want to make friends though the endless bullying and teasing pushed her further and further from that goal. She simply ghosted her way through the entirety of her middle school years until the time to attend high school had come, it was then that her view on people had only worsened, she sat in silence nearly every day having to observe the bullying, countless fights, the endless number of attention whores and line upon lines of men that simply wanted to get into the pants of her and the many other young women that attended the school. Simply put high school took the cake for the most hellish and torturous years of her school life.

The only ongoing thing in her life that helped her dissociate her way through were the stars she’d see from her window growing up, though as she grew older the stars stopped showing up and slowly faded from the sky, and by the time she turned sixteen it was as if they ceased to exist. Now here she is alone yet again, this time without her parents or younger siblings to fall back upon, as they had been hours, and states away.

A sigh spilled past her lips as her gaze scans the campus of her new home for the next four years. She gave a silent prayer that things here would be different from high school, that some were all older and much more mature, that things wouldn’t be the same. Boy did the lord completely disregard that prayer, because it was a near carbon copy, the only difference being more people knew how to mind their business.

Jungwon eyed her curiously from afar as she stood in the courtyard for what felt like hours just staring into the void. Hundreds of girls on campus and yet his eyes just so happen to fall upon her, her who feel the moment anyone’s eyes fell upon her in classes, her who wouldn’t even want anything to do with him nor anyone else on campus.

It would continue on like that for months on end, Jungwons eyes somehow finding her amidst the overwhelming crowd of others, like a magnet of attraction they always found her. Whenever he’d look at her her head always seemed to be lost within the clouds, her alerts seemed so distant and distracted. Everywhere she went she wore those headphones and kept her head down as if she wanted to go unseen, but he saw her he always saw her.

Jungwon was someone that had never found interest in anyone other than himself or the same six friends he had known for the last seven years. Needless to say they themselves forced themself into his life but they had always been there ever since and he never felt like he needed anyone else. He never yearned for love nor for his heart to fiend for anyone. He had never desired sex, or the touch or kiss of another because he felt it to be impractical. Growing up he always had eyes on him, though it was attention that by him always went unwanted, but for some reason, her and now he finally experienced what it was like to yearn for someone's attention, for someone's gaze to fall upon him.

For 2 months he continued on this way, hoping that she would one day look his way but she never did. It frustrated him, so much so that he couldn’t even focus on his film making, he of all people? Any time he’d try to focus he wondered what it would be like to talk to her, what did her voice sound like? What was it like to see her smile? What kind of music did she listen to? He’d thought about asking around campus and endless amount of times but he never built the courage, he told himself that this was just a passing phase, that it was simply his mind yearning for some sort of muse, but it did nothing to lessen the ongoing fever of her that lingered every time she walked by.

Then one day, she walked into the library while he had been working on a project with his art study group and he took the chance to slip away without anyone noticing. His eyes curiously drank her in as she piled books into her arms.

She noticed him staring, she always noticed him staring, but what was she to say to him? She dreaded talking to people, dreaded talking to guys even more. With unspoken words she finally turns to face him and as her eyes meet Jungwons something within them sparks a flame. Realizing she had finally been looking at him, that he now fully had her attention his eyes widened almost instantaneously.

“Um.” What was he thinking? He didn’t even know what to say to her. “Hey so I’ve been watching you all this time because for some reason you interested me and I find you pretty? Will you do a film with me?”

“Jungwon, what are you doing? We need to hurry and finish this before tomorrow.” His unspoken words had gone interrupted as his given group called him back to his place at the camera. Jungwon mentally cursed, not knowing if this was an opportunity that he would get again.

“Jungwon..” his name melted on her tongue like cotton candy, her soft voice breaking the silence as she stood alone yet again. Though for some reason she felt slight disappointment.

Weeks had passed since Jungwon saw her again, he had gotten a taste of what it was like to have her look at him, to have her eyes on him and he yearned for it. So when given the opportunity he would force himself to talk to her, even if he didn’t know what to say.

Every day he’d find himself trudging through the aisles of the library, hoping to see her and eventually he did.

“Hi, I'm here to return my books.” That was the first time he heard her voice, a voice that made his ears melt, a voice that he wanted, no he needed to hear more of. If anyone were to view things from the outside they’d think him to be crazy, even if he thought he was crazy, obsessing over some girl he had never even had the courage to approach until now. He didn’t understand why she had such a pull on him, and as much as he tried to dismiss the curious feeling and aching instinct to be close to her he couldn’t. Without thinking he pulled a random book from the shelf and stepped beside her at the opposing checkout.

“Oh Jungwon, are you checking out more books for your project? I thought you guys finished up yesterday?”

“Yeah we did, but you know I can never seem to stop the idea from flowing.” Jungwon felt butterflies burn the pit of his stomach as he felt it again, her eyes on him.

For a moment her eyes did fall upon him, she was curious, curious as to who he was, what he and the other students had been doing in the library yesterday. Why did he approach her yesterday?

“Oh yn, have you met Jungwon?” Chaewon the library assistant seemed to notice her curious gaze and decided to break the overbearing tension that seemed to be pouring from the both of you.

“You’re always in here so maybe you saw him yesterday, he’s a film major, they’ve actually been looking for someone to help with choosing scores and soundtracks for one of their bigger projects, maybe you can help them since you’re good with music?” Her eyes widened and she glanced back and forth between her and Jungwon. At that moment she prayed that the ground would swallow her whole. She gave Chaewon a pleading look as if to ask her not to say another word but chaewon simply returned her look with a look of confusion.

Chaewon was the only thing close to a friend that yn had, ever since she started frequenting the library the girl had always been there. No matter how many times yn had tried to mind her business and avoid conversation Chaewon never stopped trying. Slowly but surely the girl found herself opening herself up a bit more to Chaewon.

“Do you really? We’ve been trying to find someone in the music department for months now that can match the vibe of the film and we’ve had no luck, if it's not a problem we could really use your help.” She hates the way he looks at her, expectantly, his soft eyes so full of hope that she might say yes. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her temperature rise as she froze on the spot. She always avoided people but now she had no way of avoiding the conversation at hand.

“Maybe?” That was enough, Jungwon didn’t need to hear anything else.

“Here's my number, if you do decide that you’d like to give it a try then you can text me? I’m always in the film room really late but I can swing by your dorm to get you if needed.” Hearing those words her soul completely left her body. Him? Come to her dorm.

“No! I mean- no it's okay i'll meet you in the courtyard? The big tree where the senior event planners usually sit?”

Chaewon couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something between the two of them but knowing yn she thought that maybe she was just feeling a little nervous or awkward talking to Jungwon. Both yn and Chaewon watch as Jungwon disappears from the library.

“He didn’t even sign for the book- ” Chaewon holds the book in his hand before looking down and reading the title.

“The kissing booth. Since when does he make romance films?” Chaewon shrugs and makes her way from behind the counter to put the book ball in its rightful place, leaving the girl alone to drown in her thoughts.

The entire walk back to her dorm yn couldn’t stop overthinking and panicking. She couldn’t not show up because then she’d look like a bitch, but if she did agree to it then she would risk having to speak and be around groups of people which she completely dreaded.

Jungwon on the other hand couldn’t stop looking at his phone from the moment he had given her his number. If this were any other day he couldn’t care less about his phone. There had been many times heeseung would complain about his messages going unread or him having missed his calls since he was always working on some sort of project. Right here right now though, his eyes would shift to his phone every 5 minutes. An hour went by and he finally heard the ding of his cellphone. He blankly stared at his phone as he read the message sent by an unknown contact. What should he say?

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle at her panicked text, she was cute. He had gone from not even knowing her and not talking to her to wanting to only hear and see her talk. With a smile on his lips he responds to her panicked messages “meet me at the magnolia tree”

Part 2 (in progress)

#enha #enha fics #enha au #enha smau #enha fanfic #enha fake texts #enha fanfiction #enha jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #jungwon fanfic #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #enhypen fanfiction #enhyphen fanfic #enhyphen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

Note

A suspicious man in a trenchcoat, baseball cap, sunglasses, and mask sneaks into Pomefiore. He asks the mob students where he can find Vil Schoenheit and they suspect he’s a crazy super fan. The mob students are prepared to throw him out until who should appear but THE Vil who immediately recognizes the shady man. *“Dad?”*

Out of curiosity, who thirsts for Vil's dad (or at least appreciates the concept of what he could be since we haven't been able to meet him face-to-face yet)???? 😅 I feel like I actually haven't seen much fan art for him even though there seems to be tons for other parents and even siblings. Or maybe that's just because of the fandom circles I'm in??

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Father?"

“It’s good to see you, my darling Vil.”

The sketchy man peeled away his surgical mask and sunglasses, revealing a brilliant smile and twinkling violet eyes. His hat followed, letting loose a cap of silken gold hair. Most of it had been gently slicked back, allowing for stray locks to curl in easy, effortless waves that called attention to his best features.

There was a rugged youthfulness to him, and what lines were on his skin were worn with grace and dignity. He had the kind of face that passerbys were drawn to: an older, conventional kind of handsome, yes, but with a magnetic warmth inlaid in it. When he laughed, people listened, and when he walked by, heads turned.

And listen and turn they did.

"It's him!! It's THE Eric Venue!!"

The surrounding Pomefiore mob students broke out into gasps and barely contained yelps. One of them fainted, caught in the nick of time by another mob. ("P-Pull yourself together, man!!" he hissed.)

The lounge went still for a second.

Then one voice rose high above the silence.

"Kyaaaaah! Father!!"

With a cry of delight and a giggle, Vil threw his arms around Eric. Entangled, he could breathe in the lovely smell of his father’s sophisticated cologne: jasmine, saffron, and cedarwood.

“What happened?” Vil asked, nearly breathless. “I thought you were busy shooting your new film in the City of Flowers.”

“I was—but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to see you. I had my manager pull a few strings to clear a day in my schedule to visit. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Father…”

Excited murmurs passed throughout the mob students.

"E-Eh?! Vil-sama squealed like a high school girl just now…”

"I-I didn't realize he was capable of acting so cutesy.”

“Wow, they sparkle so much together. I’m going to be blinded!”

“Ah-HEM!” Vil straightened in his father’s embrace, directing a withering look at his dorm members. "Do you gentlemen mind giving us some privacy? It’s rather rude to eavesdrop and stare at a family reunion.”

There was a flurry of embarrassed apologies and nervous tittering. Then the onlookers hurriedly dispersed, as quickly as the flicker of a humingbird’s wings.

Vil peeled away from his father with a sigh. “Do excuse my dorm members. It seems they need a refresher for their manners.”

“That’s quite alright—it’s not the strangest fan interaction either of us has had,” Eric joked, eyes creasing. “They must have been mystified to witness your cuteness firsthand—as they should be.

“Just look at you!!” He spread out his arms toward Vil. “The fairest of them all, the apple of my eye.”

Vil chuckled, twirling to give his father a full view of him. The hem of his dorm uniform flared out like a flower in bloom.

“You’re all grown up now.” Eric’s voice grew tender, his eyes shimmering with wetness. “Studying magic, leading an entire dorm, going off on your internship next year, furthering your career… You’re going to accomplish so many more great things.”

“You were my very first fan—and I have you to thank for being my inspiration. I can’t possibly take all the credit.”

Eric laughed heartily, wrapping an arm around his son. “I’ve missed this. We have so much catching up to do.”

“We do. Seeing as it’s Family Day, there are even more people on campus than usual. We should be able to blend in easily… provided, of course, the right disguise.” Vil smiled. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll be fitted to join you."

“It’ll be just like old times, eh? The two of us gallivanting about in plain sight. You were still new to magic back then, but you were able to do something as impressive as changing the colors of our clothes."

"A color-changing spell such as that is elementary. It's one of the first spells taught to first year students." A smirk tugged at Vil's mouth. "I'll show you just how far I've come since then."

He produced his magical pen from his robes and raised it high into the air. A shower of sparkles rained down from its gemstone, casting Vil in a soft glow. Ribbons of light slowly knitted themselves over his outfit, stretching, stitching, and reshaping his uniform into something new.

As the magic dissipated, fizzling into fine speckles of glitter, Vil stepped out in a chic cream-colored tracksuit and deep purple sneakers. His famous face was obscured by a baseball cap and sunglasses that were identical to his dad's.

Eric's jaw dropped. "I think I'm starstruck again."

"Fufu. I tend to have that effect on people." Vil tugged up the surgical mask affixed to his chin. "Come now, we have a whole day ahead of us!"

#Vil Schoenheit #twst #twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Eric Venue #NRC Family Day #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines

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kth1fics · 2 years ago

Text

00:00 (Zero O’Clock) (M) | KTH

00:00 (Zero O’Clock)

⟶ Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Established Relationship, PWP, Slice of Life, Domestic Fluff, Smut, 18+ ⟶ WC: 6.8k+ ⟶ Warnings: disgustingly fluffy fluff (for me lol), super sweet interactions and love, unprotected sex, neck kisses, brief fingering, language, etc ⟶ Beta: @daechwitatamic jumping jo jo bean ⟶ Summary: A night full of movies and intimate conversations with the love of your life and his fluffy dog whom you love more than anything leads into something more. ⟶ Author's Note: Yeah. My sweet, sweet, heart throbbing love for a man and his adorable Pomeranian. What else do you expect of me? I didn’t add too much detail toward Yeontan here, but let me have you know – I adore that dog to no end. ⟶ Song Recommendation: Closer (ft Paul Blanco, Mahalia) by RM

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“I love you,” he whispers in a soft baritone. Darkness surrounds you besides the lighting from the flat screen television across the room. It runs credits after a movie, names and titles all gradually sliding up the screen to credit all the workers who assisted in the development of the film. “I really do love you,” he adds.

It’s midnight on the dot; motionless comfort sits in the middle of the living room as both you and Taehyung lay tangled together on the couch. Never having a moment where you are not touching. Holding onto another like it’s your duty. As if it’s your job to make sure the other is there physically. Not caught up in a fever dream of happiness. Only the softest and kindest of touches are exchanged through the series of movies the two of you enjoyed throughout the night. Caressing one another's hands and limbs, gripping just enough to not let one slip from their grasps. If one of you attempts to pull away, the other is quick to pull them back.

You’re disgustingly in love and so is he. It’s just how it works. There’s nothing between the two of you that suits the stereotypical definition of the word ‘perfect’. Contrasting differences and different likes and dislikes can do that. Opposing personalities when it comes to opinions and personal preferences. Raised in separate environments. But without a doubt, pushing aside those things that don’t match one another and accepting one another’s flaws — now that is what makes your relationship with Taehyung perfect. Where it is so effortlessly easy to work along with another, to communicate and keep moving forward. How the two of you continue and fully engage yourselves in another to keep learning and continue to grow. With full blown adoration and a magnetic bond that is fueled with such loving intensity; you and Taehyung are completely perfect for each other.

“I love you more,” you begin to smile slowly. You hate how easy it gets to make you feel giddy and happy. How a simple confession just means so much for you to hear. Because you know Taehyung means exactly what he says and he will always say it to remind you.

He has no hesitation with letting you know that you truly are the love of his life, and just as he pulls you in closer as if the two of you had any more space left between you, Taehyung grins wholeheartedly. His face turns toward you as he leans in, placing his cheek against your shoulder while his arm reaches around your front to secure your frame against his.

The warmth of the blanket covering the two of you on the couch already holds heat to keep your bodies warm. But you feel even more comfort with the touch of Taehyung’s skin against yours as he casually tucks his hand under a portion of your hoodie (actually it’s his and you stole it for the night). He, too, wears one of his own; it helps keep the both of you sheltered from the chill of your house.

Your tired eyes glance over to a window that reaches views of the outside. Streetlights glow dim on the road as thick flurries fall down and stick to the ground. It’s beautiful and serene as the two of you watch in silence, favoring how a scenic sight like this is your favorite thing to witness — even in the comfort of your own home.

“I could just stay here all night,” he says in the same low tone. “I don’t want to let go.”

At that, you slide your own hands across his arm. Holding him to you and squeezing slightly to emphasize that you enjoy this as well.

“We don’t have to move,” you promise. “We can stay like this until we fall asleep.”

Taehyung turns his head even more to nuzzle his face into your neck. Pressing himself against your skin to enjoy the closeness of your bodies and the faint scent of your body wash that hardly lingers on your skin. He’s an absolute cuddle bug, giving you all of his vulnerability because he knows you would never abuse it.

The breath of his nose fans out and tickles your skin, raising goosebumps when he hums in content. His lips press delicately against you with no rush, just lazy and exactly how he knows you like it.

“I’m happy with that idea,” he lets out a short giggle.

You turn slightly and attempt to face Taehyung, opening up your body to direct all of your attention on him. He notices your movement and pulls away enough to let you shift. Immediately, you connect the palm of your hand to his cheek. Rubbing your thumb softly on his tanned skin that has the smallest amounts of stubble growing in from his chin and upper lip. Taehyung releases another satisfied hum as he closes his eyes, easing into your touch that does wonders to his heart. Your fingers skim the roots of his wavy black hair, combing toward the back of his head to collect a fistful. You don’t tug on them tightly, but you continue to groom his strands like a brush.

The back of the couch meets the side of your face as you lean into it, smiling warmly at the man who’s intertwined with you. Your legs lift to lay across his lap where one of his knees is bent to accommodate his position. The hand that he keeps around your body now tugs you, sliding you as close as possible so he can lean in.

“Kiss me once,” he requests. “Then kiss me twice,” he adds. “Then kiss me once more,” he quotes the lines from a favorite song.

Taehyung leans in to connect your lips with his. Molding together as you’ve done over a hundred times before. They’re plush and plump, moistened from his constant tongue licking and teeth biting. But also they feel so soft and smooth. So light, so sweet. Kissing anyone you’re a little bit infatuated with is always wonderful. But kissing Taehyung is nothing short of extraordinary. He’s someone who wants you as much as you want him. Where even after years of intimate touches and tender loving it still feels sort of dreamy.

And when your tongues meet on kiss number two, you taste him as if it is the first time. You feel yourself falling apart. Pieces of you shatter and fall around him in the safety of knowing he will be there to pick them back up. To hold and cherish as he takes you in each and every time. You’re so utterly ready to melt away in his embrace, you want to give your all to him. Where you lose yourself on the couch, the floor, in his hair and his heart. To feel him inside and out of you; all around you.

Lock your souls together as one whole. An unbreakable entity.

Once kiss number three begins to happen, you murmur your confession of love again as your bottom lip quivers with emotion. You remind him that he is loved and how lucky you are to have found each other for a moment of the most unimaginable happiness you can know.

You would give up anything to feel like this for eternity.

“My love,” he smiles when speaking against your lips. “You mean the entire world to me.”

His heart swells with adoration and glee. There’s nothing more he wants than what’s happening right now. Loving his partner, his love. To make you feel protected, appreciated, and wanted — no, needed.

Taehyung’s hand runs to the back of your neck to draw you into him. Intoxicated on you. He places his lips on yours once again and this time he leans forward, hinting for you to fall back onto the cushions as he’s ready to follow you.

A soft growl resonates, not from you nor from Taehyung. As your head falls softly back onto the cushion, you bump into the fluffy butt of another love of your life — your shared child; the tan and black colored Pomerainian, Yeontan. He originally is Taehyung’s baby, he got him when he was a wee puppy. But a few years down the road you were introduced into the mix, and Yeontan — who was definitely skeptical of you at first — grew to love you more and more. Just like his father.

Now you call him yours. And some days, Yeontan likes you better. Usually on the days you sneak him more treats than he’s allotted. But we don’t dare tell Taehyung this.

“Oh!” You smile and twist your head toward the dog who now begins sniffing your face. “Sorry, baby!”

Taehyung’s large hand comes to pat the top of Yeontan’s head. He pets him with kindness. “I forget he was over here,” he says. “Forgive me,” he begs toward the dog who’s began licking his hand. “Tannie, I need you to move.” Taehyung softly and slowly slides his palm under the side of Yeontan. With full on reluctance and sass, the mere 8 pound dog huffs as he stands on all fours.

“Aw,” you sigh as you feel bad for the pooch who now is being evicted from the couch.

You hear the tap of Yeontan’s nails clink lightly against the tile flooring as he jumps down from the cushion. He quickly looks around in the mild darkness of the house to find his best exit strategy.

Preferably away from his father and adopted mother who are seconds away from fornicating on the spot he was just resting on. (Although he’s just a dog who probably does not know the full extent of what the two of you are about to do). As Yeontan descends down the pitch darkness of the hallway toward the bedroom, you frown for him. Feeling bad for the upset dog.

“It’s not like you to kick Tannie out of the room,” you comment with a pout.

“He’ll be fine,” Taehyung murmurs as he continues to lay on top of you. “Besides, I don’t want him seeing what we’re doing.”

“Protecting your son’s eyes from the vulnerability of two lovers?”

“Exactly.”

The playful nature of his tone is hidden by the breathy deep whisper and soft plush lips heating up the shell of your ear. It tickles and sparks bursts of small firebolts through your system.

“We wouldn’t want to set a bad example,” you chide back, smirking as you turn your head and allow Taehyung’s lips to skim against your cheek. You exhale a breath you didn’t notice you held, trying to find the will to close the small distance between your lips, but the tension growing between you and Taehyung fuels you. “Like how his father does nothing but tease.”

“I always fulfill,” Taehyung draws back slightly, a pout dressing his features. Like an arrow subtly striking an apple’s skin, you pricked a tiny hole into Taehyung’s ego. “You know I do,” he adds.

Your palm reaches up and cups his chin as you tap your fingers softly against his cheek, smiling to yourself. It takes everything in your body to resist kissing away the jutted out bottom lip on Taehyung’s frowning face.

“I know you do,” you reassure softly. It warms his heart hearing those sweet, kind words of affirmation. You swear you can feel the twitch of his lips against your palm, threatening to break his saddened facade and into a pile of putty.

“Then show me you know,” he bids through half-lidded eyes, tongue swiping ever-so-slightly across his lips.

Your eyelids flutter with a thrilling chill running through your body, excitement blasts through your core and heat rises in your cheeks.The soft linen blanket that covers the two of you hordes all your body heat, the rising temperature increasing over time.

Taehyung uses this opportunity to cradle the back of your head, positioning it gently where he wants you while his other hand slides up the length of your leg and coaxes you to hook around his hip. He closes the gap with a teasing smile, hungrily molding your mouths together as though he’s desperate to taste every drop of you. Taehyung inhales you, greedily, and immediately comes to suck at your bottom lip – hooking it between his teeth before letting it pop back.

A small satisfied sigh rests in your throat, your mouth chases his as he pulls away just enough to be out of reach. His fingers comb through the roots of your hair, nails raking softly across your scalp.

“Come back,” you whisper a plea to him. “Tae –”

“– I’m just admiring you.”

“But I want to keep kissing you,” you sulk. “You’re doing exactly what I just said you do.”

He giggles, a deep baritone hypnotic melody that rumbles inside his chest. “I know.”

Taehyung doesn’t want to drag out the night further, it is quite late. But he can’t help himself from stopping every now and then and basking in the amazement of you. Looking at you, taking you in. It’s his favorite pastime if you ask. But he’s genuine and so devoted toward you, that doing nothing but seeing you is enough to fuel the electric butterflies in his stomach and fill his heart to the rim. He truly adores you.

Those gentle chuckles diminish and quickly morph into muffled, shy moans as Taehyung reconnects your awaiting kiss. You waste no second by diving your tongue into his mouth. It takes even less for him to counter your intrusion with his own, losing yourselves in a rhythmic dance.

You feel the way his warm large palm runs up and down the outer meat of your thigh that’s around his frame. Your hips involuntarily roll toward him as the need of Taehyung grows stronger between your legs. He’s lucky you’re wearing shorts right now, he would be disappointed if he couldn’t feel the heat of your skin against him.

“Can we lose these?” He gestures as his fingers run up toward your waistband. You feel the coolness of his fingers touch your delicate skin, it’s not too cold to make you wince but you note that Taehyung needs to be warmed up too.

You nod into the kiss, body moving along with Taehyung’s as his fingers hook around the band of your shorts and whatever underwear you have on and slowly, achingly, slide them down and off your legs. He’s sure to keep himself hovered enough with the blanket around his shoulders, caging you in from the chill of the outside air. His eyes roam your exposed lower half, nothing he hasn’t seen before. But he always knows how to appreciate a beautiful sight, drinking in the picture of the sheen of arousal coating your pussy.

“Your hoodie,” you comment as you lean back enough and shrug your arms through the holes of your own lengthy sleeves. With haste, you work the material over your head as Taehyung does the same but quicker. Revealing his bare torso – a soft stomach and smooth chest – and fanned out black hair to you.

Still hovering and even planting a single foot down to the ground, Taehyung grips the hem of the thin tee shirt still covering your body. “This too?” He asks curiously, fingers itching to pull the soft material up your front.

“It’s still cold,” you deny with a sorry look.

Though Taehyung doesn’t press further. He only wants to keep you comfortable and he accepts your tender denial.

He nods as the hoods of his eyelids shade with subtle gleam and haze. You blink, a deep exhale escapes your chest as you witness the tightening of Taehyung’s nipples as they harden. Every impulse in you screams to act on instinct and touch them, rub against them to tame their hardening.

And so you do, softly, with the pads of your thumbs. Giggling to yourself when he winces only slightly at the contact and returns a toothy smile.

Taehyung takes revenge by sliding his hands under your thin shirt, fingers pinching the tender flesh of your waist to tickle you. He lowers himself down fast, refusing to allow you to bolt up from your position and scurry away from his grasp.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he promises with a hum. His mouth skims over your temple, pressing fluttering kisses down the side of your face as you turn away from him.

You feel the warmth of Taehyung’s skin against yours as his arms scoop around you. It’s ultimately comfortable being guarded in his embrace, feeling held and protected all in one. The press of Taehyung’s lower half sits right at the apex of your thighs as he rests against you. His erection is strongly evident and hidden just under the menace of his sweatpants.

He uses this opportunity to press into you to give you the reminder of what you’re currently missing out on, yet you will fully receive. Another teasing antic of his, and you love it entirely. It causes enough friction to rub your clit deliciously. It also refreshes your memory on how hard – how damn thick Taehyung is down there.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you for a deeper kiss. A meaningful lust. One that feels that it could be your last, so you make it everlasting – as much as possible. Where your breaths are caught, trapped inside your lungs with nowhere to escape. How time can pause, even in such a heated intimate position, and feel completely exposed in an emotional kind of way. Your tongue pushes past his lips and teeth and he responds with an enthusiastic rut of his hips. Gaining himself a subtle moan from you that only his ears can pick up.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” you pant. Your legs spread wider on their own accord. You abandon all thoughts of trying to stretch out your time of canoodling and hint to Taehyung how willing and ready you are. Lightly massage the back of his neck as you kiss him again, you smile sweetly into the lips of the man you’ve given everything to. “Don’t stop,�� you whisper.

A gasp leaves your mouth as Taehyung slides his fingers between the two of you, running his fingers directly along your folds. Your slick, the natural clear and sticky arousal, now coats his digits the more he fondles your lower lips. Giving him such an easy gliding area and access to your cunt. With all his love, he begins rubbing small, quick and diligent circles against your slippery clit – drawing yet another sighing moan from your mouth.

“Does this feel good or should I slow down?” he questions with mirth and a satisfied hum as he dips his head to the junction of your shoulder and neck. Slotting his face right against your soft flesh and teeth nipping at the first contact against a sweet spot he knows all too well. You hiss, shuttering at the love bite and eyes fluttering shut, tight, as you savor the miniature pinch of pain. “Y/n?”

“Why…” you exhale a mewl, fighting and failing from melting into the couch below you. “...do you even ask?”

A deep, throaty giggle vibrates within Taehyung’s chest. He presses down with the flat of his tongue, exploring that exposed column of your neck to pull more sounds of pleasure from your mouth. He matches the tempo with the rolls of his fingers, nudging your engorged clit around like a dialog stick on a controller.

Your cunt throbs excitedly, anticipating the moments Taehyung plunges his fingers into you. Another delightful moan escapes your throat with the build up of your shaky breaths and it only confirms to his ears that you are in fact enjoying every little bit of this attention.

Taehyung continues to massage his wet tongue into a sensitive spot of your neck before grabbing it between his teeth. He sucks on it with vigor, diligent on making sure he leaves an impression on your body as his fingers slither their way toward your entrance.

“Ah, Taehyung,” you moan with a croaky voice. Your chest rises and falls as heat smothers you under this blanket and the man slotted between your thighs. Carefully, you slide a portion of the material down Taehyung’s back, enough to let in a small spill of cool air as your nails lightly rake down his spine.

He moans at how sparks of fire run in the wake of your nails, a warm sensation drawn to the risen skin. His name rolling off your tongue like second nature also winds him up, thinking that your clit has been catered to far enough and now it’s time to deliver his next step.

His decision on sinking two fingers rather than one is honestly due to the amount of arousal already coating his fingers. You’ve given him plenty to work with, telling him without actually telling him how your body is unbelievably ready for him. Taehyung’s thumb rubs gently over your clit as both his index and middle fingers plunge deeper into your dripping cunt, curling up his fingers to force your walls to clutch and release on instinct.

Your gasp of relief tickles his fancy. You dig more prominently into his back with your fingernails now, blessing his skin with small crescent indents as your other hand knots itself in his hair. The sounds you begin to make, those sharp little groans you cannot hide from him, makes his cock twitch eagerly.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” he questions in the middle of his assault. His lips morph over the lobe of your ear as you hear his soft exhales releasing from his nose.

Your cheeks blast with fire and the honest question nearly short-circuits your brain as you try to comprehend what he’s asking all the while you’re fully enjoying what is currently going on. When you fail to respond to Taehyung, and instead grip onto him tighter, he falters the speed of his fingers. Decaying his rapid speed growth with agonizingly slow and languid fingers thrusts until he stops fully. You don’t realize he’s halted until you notice the way your hips have been chasing his movement and pussy gripping onto his digits.

“No!” You bite your bottom lip to avoid letting the word come out as a scream. Instead, a whiny moan of desperation takes over as you’re pulling Taehyung flush against your body with need. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I can give you something better,” he insists on a different approach. Perhaps tonight isn’t the night you need his tongue down there, and he’s perfectly alright with that. His lips press into your cheek while his breath fans out of his mouth. “Let me,” he begins to reinsert his fingers, “sink my,” his knuckles graze past your opening and fingers bend slightly to a new angle, “dick into this pussy,” he growls as his two fingers begin to scissor you open like stretching the elastic of a balloon.

You whimper at the sound of Taehyung’s deep voice whispering into your ear. He’s surprised with how fast your hands move to his sweatpants. Reaching down, you palm his length eagerly, feeling the leaking tip of his cock already poking out of the waistband. Taehyung groans as you take him by surprise, squeezing over his girth and running your hand along his shaft. You want to shove your hand under his pants to feel the skin to skin contact, how warm, hard, and heavy he feels once you secure your fingers around him.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” you confess.

Taehyung offers a gentle kiss as his hand helps shimmy his pants down his thighs and past his knees. He kicks them off quickly before leaning his chest against you again, gripping your wrist and pulling it away from him. He pins your arm against you prior to letting it go in favor of sliding his palm up to interlock his fingers with yours. Below, you can feel his swollen cock nudging against your inner thigh at an odd angle.

“This will make me feel good,” he affirms with a small thrust into you.

His fingers tremble oh so slightly as they cup your chin, lightly pulling your face toward his. Your lips meet again, molding themselves like two puzzle pieces made perfect for another. So deep, so passionately. You barely even notice the continuous rolls of his hips, setting a slow and cautious pace.

“I love you, Y/n,” he leaves the words on the surface of your lips. His eyes, beautiful as the shine of the television which has been long forgotten adds a crisp glow to his dark brown irises, scanning over your features as he takes you in. They flicker back and forth with yours while his fingers push away some flyaway hairs from your face. The others which are preoccupied with being locked within yours tighten their grip with yours in a protective way to offer comfort and reassurance. To emphasize how seriously he means to speak.

Your heart would skip a beat if it were actually possible without having cardiac arrest, but that’s what it feels like – in some manner – whenever Taehyung confesses to you in such a way. Love, the word, is strong enough. It comes with an unlimited number of reasons and meanings. Love, itself, is something scary and heartwarming all in one. To have this kind of love, the one you share with Taehyung, man – there is nothing like it. There can never be a duplicate or a replacement for it. You pity those around you because what you feel with your boyfriend feels like nobody else can have it – with him or anyone else. It’s indescribable – the feelings that swell deep in your heart and mind. They fuel every nerve and fiber of your being. It makes you vulnerable, through and through. But you would always give that chance; will always willingly give Taehyung your entire entity if you can.

Because he means that much to you. Your whole damn life has been made until now and you want nothing more than to continue writing it with Taehyung. You could spend forever and a day tangling in your half-naked embrace, innocently kissing away all your life with Taehyung if that were such a thing.

You try your hardest to stop yourself from stepping to that stair of emotions, you really do. The plateau of all your touchy-feely feelings that makes you feel weak and scared. But it’s only because you hate to give anyone the options to see them. To possibly hurt you so easily because you expose yourself.

But not for Taehyung.

Over the course of your relationship you’ve grown to allow him and only him to see these sides of you. You accept him and all. Which makes him one of the very few human beings to be worthy of seeing such a sensitive part of you.

Tears sting and threaten to break past the brims of your eyes and Taehyung tenses. He knows. Of fucking course he knows. He feels you, not just physically, but he can feel that connection you don’t need to describe to him through a cycle of words. Taehyung has never requested for you to explain. From the very start he’s completely accepted it. It’s understanding and patience, listening and learning. Even with two headstrong cardinal signs, where bickering and intense fights are bound to happen, the two of you make it work. Because even with all those hard times together, there are great times that outweigh those unfortunate happenings. It makes you two stronger together, feel really connected with one another.

“I…” you bottom lip quivers. It’s hard for you to admit even when it’s just the two of you. Your eyes close with frustration, but you can show him better than telling him. “Come here,” you whisper before latching your mouth onto his.

Taehyung steadies himself on his elbows. He moves enough to align himself without the assistance of your hands or his, resting his smooth cockhead at the dip of your pussy and right at your entrance. Taehyung rolls his hips into you, pressing his dick between your velvety folds with a growing smile on his lips. He lathers his cock up with your drenched pussy juices, rutting his cock against you before lifting just enough to align himself properly.

Shallow pressure taps and knocks at your entrance, teasing and begging to be let in. Taehyung hovers you as he molds his lips with yours. When he pulls back, he remains centimeters from your lips.

“Please, say it back,” he whispers in that pleading, soft baritone voice. It wrenches your heart, hearing how heartbreaking it sounds coming from his lips. It plucks every single one of your heart strings, yanking them off their cords and breaking them completely.

The light from the television turns off from being idle for far too long, darkening the room even more and leaving just the silent snowy landscape outside to illuminate the living room. You can still see thanks to the soft light, Taehyung’s features angling slightly more, but you can still see his beseeching eyes waiting for you to tell him those magic words.

“I love you, Taehyung,” you sigh, trying to hide the choked up sound threatening to come out of your throat. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, and as you attempt to reassure him with the gentle gesture, you notice something wet on your finger.

Small, salty and sweet tears run down Taehyung’s face. You wipe them up carefully, not voicing your concern and halting your actions. Instead, you pull him back to you to lock your lips. Giving him everything in one whole meaningful kiss as you cradle his cheek in your palm.

Slowly, he glides himself in with a soft push. The stretch makes you tense momentarily, but the breathy moan that escapes your mouth gets eaten up by his. It’s a delicious feeling, this intrusion welcomed with anticipation and excitement. The pleasure causes him to snap his head to the side as he breathes a moan into your ear, sending chills down your spine as he spears his cock into your walls at a slow pace. It feels amazing for him as well.

Inch by inch you feel Taehyung sink further into you, touching all those areas on your walls that need to be touched. His cock fills you, widens your canal and leaves no room for extra space. Taehyung slots himself expectantly, nudging himself as deep as possible as your warm, slippery pussy hugs his dick with indefinite need. A yearning from missing the way his cock makes you feel.

“More,” your hands grope around his back and slide down to the small of his back. His skin is so unfairly smooth, you would love to run your fingers against it for eternity. You sigh again as your legs split as wide as they can go, pussy throbbing with intense vibrations. Edging closer and closer to snap that coil that’s been winded tight within, waiting to snap and spill all over. “I want more. I want you,” you emphasize by gripping the meat of his ass and pulling him into you.

“You have me,” he promises with kisses against your cheek. You can still hear that emotional twinge in his voice like an off-tune guitar. Where Taehyung’s emotions play too heavily on his heart and have a voice of their own. “Y/n, I’ve given you everything.”

Taehyung finally gives in to the pleasure of your whiny need. He bottoms out in one smooth motion, the seat of his lap sinking right against you. He drags his cock out at a leisurely pace, only to repeat his steady pace and plunge right back in. He’s experimental at first, the last thing he wants is for it to hurt if your body isn’t fully ready for his size. But you coo and squeak the sounds of satisfaction and pleasure in the air at every movement he makes, alerting him that he has the green light to do anything and everything.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you find his mouth again, kissing his tongue-licked lips. You hook your legs around his waist and begin to roll your hips up to match his actions, meeting him as his waist comes back down to you. “Can I keep you forever?”

“Whatever you want,” he breathes.

Your tongues dance behind another’s teeth, battling out this physical love as your bodies spiritually connect as much as possible. Taehyung continues to thrust his cock into you in a loving speed, nothing brutal or with vigor – just full blown love and adoration.

Both of your bodies hold an amazing amount of heat now. It’s the first time you actually notice it. You never thought you’d feel this safe in such an intimate position. Exposed completely, pinned completely. By the hands of someone else, and not controlled by your own decisions. Taehyung’s arms cage you in as if they’re 20 stories high in a castle built with the finest cemented bricks and barricades, guarded with a protective army and magical dragon ready to fry any intruder who dares step near.

“I want –” you gasp as Taehyung’s cock drags along a sensitive bit of your wall as he simultaneously rubs against your clit with his pelvis. A short, heavenly whine escapes your lips and you feel your body screaming at all ends. “– I'm close!”

Taehyung gently grips your jaw and tilts your head to face him as he continues to shallowly roll his hips into you, making sure to hit that spot again and again.

“Look at me,” he requests. “Don’t look away.”

He looks down at you like you’re everything he’s ever wished for. He loves you. He cares for you. He’s given you every single bit of him inside and out. He feels the most complete with you. Even if he doesn’t know how to tell you this every day. How he doesn’t know how to explain to you what he sees and feels. When words fail to describe the way every nerve and fiber in him dances in unison when he thinks about you. When he touches you. When he’s inside of you.

You smile softly. Taehyung truly is your weakness, an Achilles heel. You’ll do anything for him, all he needs to do is just ask. Blink… Breathe your way. You’ll be willing to do everything. If Taehyung ever asks you to jump, you’d respond ‘how high?’ He’s made his way under your skin, closer than you’ve ever been with anyone. Burrowed himself, anchoring his being to you like you’re his lifeforce – or is he yours?

Your eyes meet his, witnessing how wide his pupils have grown. Filled with a glaze of lust. Taehyung gauges your facial features as answers, rutting himself a bit harder into you. He notices how your blinks begin to falter, how your eyes threaten to roll back and how badly you want to close your eyes and relish in the pleasure. How your head wants to lean further back, pressing harder into the cushion below you as a slur of desperate whines begin to escape your throat. Indicating to him that he’s bringing you closer to the edge of release, inches close to being knocked off a cliff into an abyss of pleasure.

“T-Tae,” his name comes out as a plea. Your fist finds its way to the back of his head again as his hair slips through your fingers.

“If you can see how beautiful you look right now,” he shyly grins. He doesn’t tell you how his climax is racing with yours as well and he struggles to keep his composure until yours crosses the finish line first. “I just want to make you so happy, Y/n. I’ll keep giving you everything.”

Taehyung’s confessions make you feel embarrassed especially during such an act. So pleasurable and intense. It’s something you have to get used to because he’s notorious for admitting his love in ways like this. With you opened like a book; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Where it hits you the most, coming in with full force. It’s always hard for you to comprehend it – but during these times you never have the moments to actually ponder his words. You just need to listen to the words and hear his voice.

Accept it.

“I’m… Fuck…Tae,” you quickly gasp, trying to respond but you’re constantly trying to catch your breath. The rhythm of his thrusts increases in speed, he’s determined to draw that orgasm out from you. “I… I!”

Your body tenses and jolts at once, hips faltering but continue to stay open as your pussy eats up his cock. Sucking it in with a fluttering tempo as your orgasm crashes and derails off its tracks. It dives right into a pool, drenching every inch of you. Your pussy becomes noticeably more wet, squelching noises resounding in the air as Taehyung continues to roll into you. Perspiration trickles across your skin, trying to cool down your body from the immense surge of heat that blasts through you. Tears dripping from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you stare at Taehyung. Feeling nothing but weak under him as pleasure ricochets throughout your body.

“I have you,” he reassures. “Y/n, it’s ok. I have you even if you don’t realize it. Even if you don’t think you’ve given yourself to me. I’m right here.”

“I love you,” you whisper. Your voice cracks, choked up from the immense love and pleasure. How your body cannot cope and grasp reality. Where everything you felt control of has been stripped and taken by the hands of the man hovering above you.

“I love you, too,” he responds breathlessly. Desperately.

Taehyung still battles his own release even though his body acts on its own. Yet he continues to increase in speed, delivering his cock into your cunt repeatedly. Needy moans spill into your mouth when he gives you another kiss, wishing he could stop and wipe away every stray tear that has fallen from both you and him.

He pumps himself into you with one last burst of power, swelling his heart each second that passes by. Your drenched pussy makes it far too easy for him to slip and fall, ready to bust open and release every single drop in his tightening balls. Before his load is pulled by the trigger, he pulls out of you and buries his face into your neck. His body stalls as his fist energetically runs up and down his shaft. Taehyung’s hips shake above you as he rasps out the affirmation of his release into your skin, mouth parted and kissing in anguish.

Ropes of white cum spurt against your lower half and some against your shirt like paint being thrown onto a canvas, adding character and design. It’s warm and the subtle thump of it landing on your body makes it seem suddenly sexy.

Taehyung plants a kiss to your forehead, hovering there for a few brief moments as the two of you recollect your breaths and thoughts. You notice the arms holding him up shake with lack of strength and adrenaline pumping through him. He must be tired and you begin feeling guilty for Taehyung doing most of the work tonight.

You lightly push against his chest to indicate a change in position. He lifts, leans back enough to seat himself comfortable on the couch as his cock lays against his stomach, spent and softening. Following him, you move forward and swing a leg around him. At first you sit yourself over on his thighs, not wanting to add pressure to his cock which must be sensitive still. Taehyung looks dazed, momentarily confused as his stunned blinking speaks directly to you.

“Kiss me,” you request as your hands grip the bottom of your shirt and pull it above your head, tossing it on the ground behind you.

Your hands run up his chest to his neck, gently running them to cup either side of his face. You hold his head, admiring the tired and sleepy look on his features.

“Again?” he questions as he reluctantly rips his eyes away from gawking at your exposed chest.

“Yes.” You answer, even when you know he’s asking more than one question.

You lean in, feeling the way Taehyung’s palms skirt the meat of your thighs and guide themselves toward your ass. He pulls you closer to him, ignoring the swelling of his cock that increases in pressure. Your lips meet, feeling the smooth cupid's bow meet yours. It’s sweet, genuine. You pour everything you have in you into the kiss, somehow hoping he can feel all your emotions in one gesture.

“Thank you,” you smile into the kiss.

The digital clock behind you reads 00:24 am. Flurries continue to fall outside, adding on another blanket of fresh white snow. Your loveable dog rests in his own puppy-slumber within the house, you do hope he forgives the two of you. The television fails to revive for another film. You and Taehyung continue to envelope yourselves with another, tangling your limbs, bodies, and souls.

Being closer than you’ve ever been.

Moodboard by: @kth1

#00:00 #zero o'clock #bangtansorciere #dailydaegu #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung pwp #kth1fics #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #bts imagines #bts x reader #taehyung au

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mrs-stans · 2 months ago

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‪@pattonoswalt: ‬RUN DON’T WALK and go see Aaron Schimberg’s A DIFFERENT MAN when it opens on October 4th.

We got to see an early screening last night and the wife and I are still talking about this ABSOLUTE WONDER of a film.

It’s hilarious, and then dark, and then heart-wrenching and then hilarious and and a couple of times GENUINELY SCARY, sometimes in the space of a minute. I haven’t seen anything like this in a LONG TIME.

The cast — Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve (THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD) and @Adam_Pearson — are all at the top of their game. Stan pulls off a feat of acting that totally upends his natural magnetism with zero trickery or effects. It’s undiluted ESSENCE.

Reinsve is the “quirky dream girl” until she ISN’T and the moment when it shift the whole audience GASPED. But what’s weird about all of the “twists” is they’re NOT twists. They’re in keeping with the VERY human train-wreck personalities that inhabit Schimberg’s world.

And @Adam_Pearson — good Lord in heaven. Again, he and Stan play off each other in a way you totally don’t expect until it feels so real that all of the jokes, sadness, and genuine psychosis feel earned & real & inevitable.

This is definitely one of those movies like ADAPTATION and TRIANGLE OF SADNESS that I’m gonna need multiple viewings of just to see all of the visual and verbal tricks that Schimberg gleefully gets away with.

May Aaron Schimberg forever be allowed to make exactly the fucked-up movies he wants to me. Seriously, go see A DIFFERENT MAN — in a THEATER, just to hear the audience react. WOW.

#Patton Oswalt #Meredith Salenger #A Different Man #Sebastian Stan #Renate Reinsve #Adam Pearson #Aaron Schimberg #A24 #Twitter #Thread #mrs-stans

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nidhi-writes · 25 days ago

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CHAPTER - III | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

one | two | three | four

The morning sun cast a golden glow over Mahishmati, and as I stepped onto the balcony, I couldn't help but marvel at the day's warmth. Devasena and Baahubali had left early with Kattappa to visit the temple, leaving a note explaining they hadn't wanted to wake me. Smiling at Devasena's thoughtfulness, I gazed at the sunlit kingdom stretched before me, the grandeur and beauty somehow more vivid than even the films I'd watched back in my world. How could this be fictional when I was living it?

Also, my heart string tugged at the images of the last few days; Bhallaldeva has been crowned as a King, and to witness such a grand scene in front of me made me feel out of the world; this time, I am not viewing it outside of the screen, but I sat next to Devasena and watched the whole ordeal, the way people wanted Baahibali but yet the Crown passed to Bhalla who has his arrogant smirk on his face all the way the end but yet whenever his eyes met mine it held something else which I am not able to put the finger on.

I shook my head, returned to the present, and gathered myself to meet them at the temple or perhaps ready myself for their return; something caught my eye—a pond just across the grounds. It sparkled invitingly, and before I knew it, Quickly, I slipped into a simple white cloth that hugged my form modestly, and without hesitation, I slipped into the cool water. The feeling was pure bliss. The water enveloped me, washing away any lingering doubts and fears, leaving me refreshed and weightless. My mind felt as clear as the sky above, my worries sinking below the surface. Here, in this hidden pond, life didn't feel complicated. Just simple, beautiful, and strangely... peaceful.

But reality has its way of reminding us of its presence.

As I began to leave the pond, I stepped onto a mossy stone and felt my foot slip. My arms flailed, bracing for the cold plunge back into the water when a hand grabbed me firmly. I collided with a broad chest, the strength of the arms holding me steady, their warmth sinking into me even as my heart raced. I gasped, regaining my balance, and looked up to thank my saviour.

"Thank you—"

My words trailed off as my gaze met the steely eyes of Bhallaladeva himself, his face barely an inch from mine. The notorious Bhalla, the very man whose gaze alone could command armies, now held me close, his eyes locked onto mine with a piercing intensity that froze me.

It was more than I had expected, more intense than anything I'd prepared for, standing here in the embrace of Mahishmati's most dangerous man. And yet, as Bhallaladeva looked down at me, his gaze softened. I'd only seen his eyes filled with something harsh and calculating, like a storm brewing beneath the surface. But now, in the quiet of this early morning, his expression held a warmth, a flicker of something... else. It was enough to make my heart quicken, even as I tried to keep my composure.

I could feel the cool morning air pricking at my damp skin, sending a shiver down my spine. My soaked form clung to me, and droplets fell from my hair like small streams trailing along my cheeks. I swallowed, trying to steady myself as his eyes trailed over my face, lingering, almost as if he were memorising each detail.

Without a word, his hand moved to tuck a few stray strands behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin with the lightest touch. I knew I should step back and pull away before anyone caught us, but I felt rooted in place, almost as if his presence had drawn me in like a magnet. Every time I considered retreating, his hand anchored me, his steady gaze holding me captive.

With a surge of unfamiliar anticipation, I realised I didn't want to leave.

As his fingers moved, his thumb traced a delicate path along my jawline, lingering there as his hand settled firmly on my waist. I was acutely aware of how close we were, how his chest was pressed against mine, firm. I could even feel his abs through the thin material, a steady reminder of the power he carried. My heart raced in a way I couldn't control.

"K-King Bhallaladeva..." I managed, though my voice barely sounded like my own.

He only chuckled softly, sounding equal parts amusement and something deeper. His lips turned into a slow, almost indulgent smile as his eyes settled on me again. "You don't need to address me so formally," he murmured, his voice like a warm breeze, his gaze not breaking away.

I felt a strange thrill race through me, my heart hammering as his thumb brushed my skin again as if lingering to prolong the moment. And for now, I couldn't look away.

Unable to say another word, I watched as he finally stepped back, a strange expression in his eyes. But before leaving, he gave me a look that lingered longer than I expected, a look that left a warmth in my chest and a tangle of emotions I wasn't ready to name.

After that unexpected morning encounter with the King, I managed to keep my distance, though some seemed to ache for his warmth. I kept reminding myself that this infatuation had no future. Maybe it was just because Bhallaladeva, or rather Rana, the actor who portrayed him, was undeniably handsome. But then, if it were just about looks, shouldn't I have felt the same around Baahubali? Yet, it was different with him—Baahubali felt like a brother, a friend, someone I could admire but not romantically.

The day passed, and Devasena returned from the temple, glowing with a joy I hadn't seen in her before. It was odd to see her so giggly and blushing—she, who was usually so composed and strong, now seemed wrapped up in the happiness Baahubali brought to her. I suppose that's the power of a man who truly knows his strength. The wedding was set to occur the day after tomorrow, and Devasena wanted me close by her side through it all. I felt honoured and threw myself into making sure every detail was perfect for what felt like a real-life fairytale wedding.

I also made sure to avoid any further encounters with the King. For my peace of mind, I couldn't afford to feel that inexplicable draw to him again. With each passing hour, I busied myself with wedding preparations, arranging flowers, planning decorations, and helping Devasena choose her jewels—anything to keep my mind from wandering back to Bhalla.

Then, the wedding morning arrived. The air was alive with blissful energy, the entire kingdom adorned in celebratory colours, flowers, and lights that cast a warm glow over Mahishmati. I felt surprisingly emotional as I watched Devasena, radiant and fierce, join Baahubali at the altar. When they tied the knot, I saw a love so deep and natural between them that it made me believe in destiny, even for a moment.

For Devasena and Baahubali, this day marked the start of a powerful bond, a partnership as fierce and loyal as they both were. And even as I celebrated with them, my heart tucked away its quiet fluttering, locking away the memory of a morning gaze that I was determined not to revisit.

***

It had been a few days since I'd last managed to escape from Bhallaladeva's presence successfully. All the men, including Baahubali and the King, attended an important council meeting. I decided it was an excellent time to explore the palace grounds while avoiding any run-ins with Mahishmati's so-called "noblemen." Baahubali aside, I wasn't exactly thrilled by the company of most of them. These powerful men carried their authority as an excuse to intimidate and dominate. Sethupathi, Bhallaladeva's obnoxious friend, was the worst of them, with a gaze that made my skin crawl.

Caught up in my thoughts, I stared out over Mahishmati's breathtaking view when a prickling sense of dread crept up my spine. I turned slowly, only to see Sethupathi standing there, smirking, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't.

"What's a flower of Kuntala doing here all alone?" he said, stepping closer. I forced a smile that probably looked as thin as paper. The last thing I wanted was to encourage him, but it was better than showing my genuine disgust.

"Oh, I was just admiring the view. Devasena asked me to meet her, so I should be on my way," I said, attempting to slip past him.

But he sidestepped, blocking my path. "What's the rush? Doesn't the princess's friend know how to be polite?" He grinned with a leering look that made my stomach turn. If not for Baahubali and Devasena, I'd have scratched that smirk off his face by now.

I managed a tight smile. "Oh, I know how to be polite, but I choose not to waste it where it isn't deserved. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Ignoring my hint, he edged even closer. "Why hurry away? We could spend a little time together." The suggestion sent a wave of nausea over me.

"I can't," I replied quickly, stepping back again. But he stayed in my way, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"Could you move out of my way?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, though I could feel the irritation in my bones. Perhaps I should've been more assertive, but Sethupathi wasn't the type to take 'no' for an answer.

He leaned in, closer than I could bear. "And what if I don't want to?"

Just then, a voice broke through, booming and unmistakable. "Maybe you should leave the lady alone, Sethupathi."

I saw Bhallaladeva standing at a distance, his eyes blazing red like rubies.

Just like that, the repulsive Sethupathi transformed into a model of politeness under Bhallaladeva's sharp gaze. "We were just having a conversation, my King," he stammered, his meek tone making me want to roll my eyes. Baahubali would take care of him in the future anyway, so I let it go.

"Really?" Bhallaladeva's voice was laced with barely concealed menace. "Well, I'd rather you start on the task I assigned you." Sethupathi's face drained of colour as he nodded and scurried off, leaving me with a wave of relief and a small smile of triumph. But just as quickly, I remembered my predicament—alone now with the intense gaze of Mahishmati's powerful, enigmatic King.

His eyes seemed to pierce into my soul, carrying a depth I hadn't anticipated, something more than just authority. I tried to meet his gaze, but a warmth that was comforting and unsettling crept over me. His footsteps drew closer, and I focused intently on the ground, swallowing as my pulse quickened. If I dared to look up, I would be face-to-face with him, close enough to feel his breath. Unlike Sethupathi's repulsive proximity, being near Bhallaladeva stirred something different, a longing I didn't want to admit. My mind flashed to our brief but unforgettable encounter at the pond just days before.

"Won't you look at me?" His low voice sent a tremor through me, and I gasped softly, lips parting as I finally lifted my gaze. His dark brown eyes held mine, softer and more vulnerable than I'd ever seen, spilling over with an inexplicable warmth.

"Th-thank you, King," I whispered, struggling to keep my composure as his eyes drank me in, unwavering.

"It's my pleasure, Nandhini," he replied, my name slipping from his lips like a caress. Heat flooded my cheeks, and his gaze sparkled, noticing the flush on my face. As I stepped back, I felt the wall against my back, effectively trapping me. His hand reached up, fingertips tracing my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was soft, almost reverent, leaving me breathless.

"My King..." I tried to speak, but my voice was barely audible.

"Look at me." This time, his tone held undeniable authority. "Call me Bhalla. Please."

A small smile tugged at my lips. This softer side of him was unlike anything I had expected, making me see him in an entirely different light. "But you're a king..." I stammered, trying to reason.

He shook his head gently, his thumb grazing my cheekbone, and my stomach twisted at his touch. I was overwhelmed by an inexplicable desire to feel his hands over every inch of me. What was happening to me?

"Okay... if that's what you wish, I'll call you Bhalla." His smile grew, but his gaze held a depth, a longing I couldn't quite place. Something was hidden in his expression, just out of my reach.

"Do you... remember me?" he asked, his voice dropping to an almost pleading tone.

I frowned slightly, trying to understand. "Remember you? What do you mean?"

But before he could answer, a voice echoed down the hallway. Devasena's voice broke the moment, shattering the intimacy that had enveloped us. Panicking, I gently pushed away from Bhalla, stepping aside quickly as I composed myself, not wanting to be seen alone with him.

Still, even as I hurried to meet Devasena, I could feel his gaze on me, lingering, intense, and filled with something I still couldn't name.

***

It had been almost eight months since I'd left Mahishmati and returned to Kuntala. Staying in one place too long felt stifling, especially when a certain someone was there, stirring up emotions I wasn't ready to face. Distance seemed like the best cure—one that would erase any fluttering feelings that had started to surface. Now, though, I was headed back for Devasena's baby shower, travelling with her brother and sister-in-law, trying to convince myself that both Bhalla and I would have forgotten each other by now.

As we arrived, Devasena practically jumped from her seat, a wide grin lighting up her face as she rushed over to embrace me. Over these months, we had exchanged countless letters, staying close despite the distance. Baahubali stood nearby, his warm smile a welcome sight, while Devasena pulled her family members into joyful hugs.

The following day, the palace buzzed with life as everyone gathered to bless the soon-to-be parents, Devasena and Baahubali. Just as the ceremony began, an announcement echoed through the hall, signalling the entrance of Queen Mother Sivagami, King Bhallaladeva, and his father. I had never grown used to the sight of Sivagami Devi, once known to adore Baahubali beyond reason, now carrying herself like a distant stranger. She blessed Devasena but looked at her with barely any warmth, saying, "Be careful, Devasena. You are carrying the kingdom's heir."

I felt a surge of indignation, my stomach twisting at her words. Not Devasena, just the heir. She didn't care about Devasena's well-being; she only cared about the child. I shook off my frustration, not wanting to cause a scene, but the anger only grew as I caught sight of Bhalla, his eyes already fixed on me with a mischievous gleam. His lips curled into a smirk as he took in my form, and I quickly averted my gaze, trying to refocus.

After the blessing, Bhallaladeva congratulated Baahubali with a generous smile. "Brother, take some time to rest. Stay with Devasena until the baby is born. After all, the court can manage without you for a while. I'll make sure everything is taken care of," he said, voice silky, though I could sense the layers of implication beneath his offer.

Baahubali gave a slight nod, and just then, Sethupathi spoke up from his place beside Bhalla. "I'd be honoured to support you in your absence, Baahubali. I know Mahishmati needs its best hands."

My fists clenched, but I kept quiet. My hand rested on Devasena's shoulder as I felt her body tense beside me. Her jaw was set, and her eyes glared daggers at Bhallaladeva and Sethupathi.

"How dare he?" Devasena muttered under her breath as they exited the room. She turned to Baahubali, her voice shaking with anger. "You promised me, Baahu. You promised you'd do anything I asked. Well, now I'm asking you to stand up for yourself, for us. I want you to be King, Baahu!"

Baahubali looked torn, glancing between his wife and brother's retreating figure as if the world's weight rested on his shoulders. "Deva..." he began, his tone gentle, but the words failed him.

"Baahubali," she said firmly, hurt flashing across her face, "I need you to stop bending to others' will. Don't you see what Bhallaladeva is doing? He wants you out of the way so he can take your place!"

Baahubali's head dropped slightly, his silence only making her more agitated. Finally, I placed a hand on her arm, gently squeezing her.

"Come on, Deva," I whispered. "Let's go back to your room for now."

As I led her out, she looked back at Baahubali, disappointment evident in her gaze.

The urge to step in and change everything weighed heavily on me. I knew what would happen next, but I also knew how deeply Baahubali trusted his brother and loved his mother and kingdom. Even if I tried to warn him, would he believe me? His loyalty to his family would blind him to others' true nature.

The next day, Devasena asked me to accompany her to the temple. Memories of this day rushed back—this was the day Sethupathi would overstep his bounds and face Devasena's wrath. Determined to prevent the fallout that would lead to her and Baahubali being cast out, I quickly positioned myself to Devasena's right, leaving her on the left side, away from Sethupathi. If I could keep Sethupathi from trying anything inappropriate, maybe the future could still be salvaged.

As we approached the temple, Sethupathi gestured us out of the unique entrance reserved exclusively for the King. Devasena's eyes narrowed, sensing my frustration, and she nodded, choosing the entrance meant for commoners instead. I walked alongside her, keeping a close eye on Sethupathi. His gaze wandered over other women, and I noticed the casual way he brushed his hand across one woman's back, making my stomach churn with disgust. My lips tightened, but I kept silent, hoping that enduring this would protect Devasena and Baahubali.

I was so focused on controlling my reaction that I didn't notice Devasena's eyes growing dark with anger. She had been watching the entire scene unfold—seeing me tense up and noticing Sethupathi's leering actions toward the women before us. Just as he reached a handout dangerously close to me, Devasena's patience snapped.

In one swift motion, she pushed me behind her, yanking a knife from Sethupathi's belt before I could even react. In a fluid motion, she slashed downward, cutting his fingers clean off. Blood splattered onto the temple steps, and Sethupathi's scream filled the air.

"Deva, stop!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the shock that rippled through the gathering crowd.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her," Devasena spat, her voice ice-cold, fury blazing in her eyes as she stood protectively before me.

Sethupathi clutched his bleeding hand, stumbling back in shock and pain. "You—how dare you! I am the King's trusted general!" he shouted, but his voice wavered with fear.

Devasena's voice cut through his protests like a blade. "Trust does not give you the right to disrespect any woman," she retorted. "Especially not under the guise of loyalty. Touch her again, and you'll lose more than a few fingers."

A part of me wanted to scream at her for her impulsiveness, but I also felt an overwhelming sense of pride and gratitude. She had risked everything to protect me without hesitation.

The court was tense, with Devasena shackled and surrounded by judgmental gazes. I stood nearby, fighting back tears as I watched her be treated like a criminal. Every whisper and every dismissive glance made me feel more helpless. My frustration boiled over as I shouted, "Is this how you treat your kingdom's daughter-in-law and the one carrying its heir?"

A hush fell over the court, and all eyes shifted to me. Queen Mother Sivagami's glare burned into me while King Bhallaldeva smirked from his throne, his gaze laced with something unnerving yet familiar. Just then, Sethupathi, still nursing his injured hand, sneered through gritted teeth, "Watch your tongue! You are speaking to the Queen Mother!"

Ignoring the tightening knot in my stomach, I met his gaze and let a faint smile play on my lips. "Maybe you should watch where you're inserting yourself, Sethupathi. Who knows, it might be more than just your finger that gets cut next time."

Sivagami's voice thundered through the hall, silencing every murmur. "Who gave you the right to speak in our court? A girl with no position should know her limits!"

Her scorn caused Devasena, silent until now, to spring to my defence. "Is this how you treat your people?" she demanded, her voice unyielding. "You arrested me without a fair trial, and now you're treating the girl who is like my sister with such disdain. Don't people in Mahishmati know how to show respect?"

Gasps echoed around us. Just then, Baahubali strode in, his presence commanding silence. His gaze darkened as he took in Devasena's shackled form, his fists clenching at her mistreatment.

"What happened, Devasena?" he asked, his voice deadly calm though his eyes were already burning with fury.

Devasena didn't hesitate, recounting Sethupathi's attempts to touch me inappropriately and the way he mistreated other women as well. I could feel the moment's weight, and as I glanced at Bhalla, his reaction caught me by surprise. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on me with a mixture of rage and something else—a silent question, a need to know if this was true. Despite the situation, I found myself nodding, a tear escaping down my cheek. His subtle, acknowledging nod shook me, and I quickly refocused on the scene unfolding.

Sethupathi began stammering out a denial, but before he could finish, Baahubali advanced toward him in a swift, lethal motion. "In Mahishmati," he announced coldly, "a man who dares to dishonour women deserves no less than death." In one stroke, he drew his sword and, without hesitation, severed Sethupathi's head, the declaration echoing in the court.

Gasps filled the hall as Sethupathi's lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

***

As Baahubali and Devasena left the palace grounds, stripped of their titles and finery, I could only watch, my heart heavy. I had tried to follow their example, removing my jewellery in solidarity, but Devasena stopped me with a gentle, insistent look. "These jewels are from Kuntala," she said softly. "You don't need to part with them."

I pouted, wanting to share their fate, but she touched my shoulder. "When we leave, I want you to return to Kuntala. Be there, wait for us," she whispered firmly. I opened my mouth to protest, but her determined gaze silenced me. She wrapped me in a warm hug, kissed my cheek, and left, her figure retreating alongside Baahubali into the welcoming crowd. I watched them go, their people surrounding them with open arms, Kattappa by my side, his eyes brimming with tears as he bade them farewell. He gently patted my head, his comforting touch a silent reassurance.

As he led me back to my chamber to pack, a sense of anxiety gnawed at me. The palace that had once felt secure now seemed foreign, its stone walls cold and unwelcoming. I quickly gathered my things, eager to leave. As I was about to slip into the quiet night, footsteps echoed through the halls. Startled, I darted behind a pillar, my heart pounding as I held my breath.

The footsteps grew closer, steady and unhurried, and my pulse quickened. I dared a glance from behind the stone, and there he stood—Bhalla. His eyes locked on the pillar where I was hiding, and an unsettling smile curved his lips. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice like ice laced with fire. "The flower of Kuntala is shy now?"

I inched along the other side of the pillar, praying he would leave. But as I attempted to move toward the garden doors, a pair of strong arms looped around my waist, trapping me. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered in a chilling tone, "Gotcha."

A shiver ran through me as a single tear escaped, trailing down my cheek. Helplessly, I wondered what lay ahead—what plans he had for me now and whether I'd ever see the ones I cared about again.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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#bhalladeva x fem!oc #bhallaldevaxreader #bhallaladeva x oc #bhallaladeva #baahubali fanfic #baahubali the conclusion #rana daggubati #prabhas #anushka shetty #devasena #sounth indian fanfic #indian fanfic #his niyati #time travel #desi posts #desi tag #desiblr #desi tumblr

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fortunatelygloriousruins · 3 months ago

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Whispers in a Liminal Font

In the quiet pause between moments, where the familiar fades and the unknown looms, lies the essence of liminal spaces—a definition filled with promise, yet laden with unease. A hallway, an airport terminal, a bridge—these spaces whisper of movement, of change, of a destination waiting just beyond sight. They embody the hope that one day, the discomfort will give way to a new rhythm. Yet for me, life has been a relentless carousel of transitions. Each time I step into what feels like a new beginning, it quickly morphs into yet another waiting room, another corridor extending into the dark. A move to a new city brought excitement, but ultimately, it became just another threshold, another place where I felt both lost and oddly familiar. I realized that while liminal spaces are often viewed as temporary, my existence has been marked by a ceaseless series of them—a relentless cycle that doesn’t allow me the comfort of belonging. The unease festers like a shadow, whispering doubts that echo louder than the sounds of possibility. In the quest for an anchor, I grasp at fleeting connections and evolving passions, only to watch them slip through my fingers like sand. I crave a return to firm ground, but the landscape of my life remains fluid, constantly shifting beneath my feet.

As celebrated in countless artistic representations, these spaces evoke a haunting tranquility, but often lack the warmth of genuine human connection, leaving an ache in their absence. In popular culture, liminal spaces evoke not just the idea of a transition, but an unsettling beauty—a strange stillness that speaks volumes without uttering a word. Films imbued with surrealism, such as those crafted by David Lynch, plunge viewers into these uncanny realms, where the absence of human presence heightens a disturbing sense of paranoia, leaving one captivated yet yearning for connection or even just safety of a warm presence, of familiarity. In the realm of the internet, ‘liminal space’ aesthetics flood social media feeds, portraying desolate hallways and empty playgrounds—spaces that exist in a vacuum, devoid of life yet brimming with emotion. While these imagined spaces entice with their aesthetic charm, they also amplify a solitude that reverberates somewhere deep in the bones. I find myself wandering through my own empty hallways, much like the desolate landscapes captured in art, where the allure of solitude clashes painfully with the yearning for human connection. In contrast to the glossy allure of these spaces in film and photography, my reality often feels like a silent scream—an echo without a voice to answer.

There is a strange magnetism to liminal spaces—those unsettling places that exist on the threshold, like deserted parking lots in the dead of night. They’re meant to be temporary, to be passed through quickly without thought or hesitation, yet they pull us in, inviting contemplation of the indefinable discomfort they evoke. The allure of liminal spaces has seeped into pop culture, into the eerie photographs and grainy videos shared on Reddit and TikTok, the empty rooms bathed in fluorescent light, abandoned swimming pools, and back alleys captured by dim, flickering street lamps. They draw us in with the haunting promise that, however unnerving, these spaces are transitory. A temporary pause in the steady march of existence. They specially piqued the interest of the generation-z around late 2019 when the pandemic led to everything shutting down around them. This happened for the first time in a while when everyone was forced to stay inside. The usually busy places were suddenly devoid of human activity. And calling those places "liminal" provided them a much needed comfort—that it's just a transient phase, that would eventually make way for a new normal, no matter how deeply disorienting it may feel in the moment.

For me, however, they are not a pause but a pattern. My time here has been a series of liminal spaces, one after another, an endless succession of thresholds that I can never quite cross. The feeling is visceral—like I’m standing on the edge of something unknown, waiting for a change that never arrives. I am caught in the perpetual dusk between who I was and who I could be, but never who I am. The unease, the disquiet that comes with transitions, has become a permanent resident in my bones. While others move through life as if through rooms—each with a door that closes behind and another that opens before them—I remain stranded in the hallway, never quite belonging anywhere.

The pop culture obsession with these places hints at a shared understanding: the strange comfort of knowing that the eeriness will end. People pause to admire the beauty in the emptiness, to find poetry in the in-between, but then they move on, not before shaking off the chill that runs down their spines. I can’t move on. My tragedy is that I have never been afforded the luxury of belonging. Each moment of my life feels like another entrywa a building with no exits.

It is no wonder that liminal spaces are almost always portrayed devoid of people. The absence is stark, a universal truth in every image—an abandoned gas station under a buzzing neon sign, a swimming pool drained and dry. In these spaces, human presence is always missing, and I’ve come to understand why: true belonging happens only when you have become a part of a story, not when you are standing at its threshold, unsure whether to step in or retreat. In life, you find comfort and purpose when you are woven into the fabric of something meaningful, something that feels whole. But I remain forever on the periphery, trapped in the space between stories.

I think about those images often, how the emptiness of these spaces mimics the solitude of my own experience. Those photos and videos, scrolling endlessly on social media feeds, depict places where people were once present but have since moved on. They have left their mark, their fleeting footprints, and then disappeared, perhaps to find themselves fully within the next moment, the next chapter. They were participants in a story, however brief, and then they exited. But I am the one left behind, the one who does not belong either inside or outside. For them, it is a journey; for me, it is a destination I never intended to arrive at, a destination where nobody ever arrives nor stays.

Maybe that’s why I feel most at home in those photographs of empty spaces—because they are the only places that mirror my own reality. A reality where I have never fully crossed the threshold into a narrative that feels like my own. To be present in a story, to be part of something greater than oneself, is to know where you stand, to know that you are not simply a shadow lingering at the doorway. But I do not stand; I hover. I am not an actor on the stage, but a ghost in the wings, forever waiting for my cue, which never comes.

To truly belong is to be written into the story, to feel the weight and the warmth of other people’s lives pressing up against your own, merging, creating something that feels substantial, that feels real. Instead, I exist in the gaps between those moments, the spaces where no one else lingers long enough to even see me. I find myself most drawn to these places because they reflect my own existence back to me, in all its stark, aching solitude.

And so, I remain here, wandering these empty spaces that stretch endlessly before me. I am the emptiness that haunts them. If these spaces are metaphors for transitions, then perhaps I am the exception that disproves the rule: the one who stays when all others move. A ghost in a world that doesn’t know how to see me.

There is no comfort in knowing that one day, this will end because even endings are a luxury not afforded to everyone. I remain as transient in the spaces between, where the walls breathe, and the lights flicker, endlessly.

The liminal- they exist in the uncanny hours, the moments of transition between what was and what will be. We are drawn to them, to the way they disorient, to the way they feel like the pause before something unspeakable. We linger in their eeriness, the empty hotel corridors that seem to breathe on their own, the swimming pools drained of water, standing like gaping mouths. But there’s comfort, we tell ourselves, because these spaces are not meant to last.

For others, perhaps, that comfort is true. But I know what it is to be trapped in these places. I feel the walls close in, the floors stretch beneath me like old, creaking wood. I am forever waiting, caught in the grip of some invisible force, a heavy hand pressed against my chest, keeping me from moving forward. Each step I take echoes against the hollow emptiness around me, but never reaches a destination. I am the figure in the photograph you can barely see, half-hidden, blurred at the edges like a ghost who can’t decide if it wants to be seen or remain in the dark.

I am haunted by the absence of people in these spaces, not because they never were, but because they left. They crossed the threshold, into rooms with warmth and noise, into stories that welcomed them and wrapped around their existence like familiar sheets. They found themselves inside; they became something more than just the sum of their loneliness. But I am the one who stays behind, the one who cannot cross. The perpetual guest, never the inhabitant. I drift from one room to the next, never lingering long enough to leave a mark, never staying long enough to be remembered. I am the visitor who never finds a seat, the traveller whose bags remain packed by the door. I see the way others sink into the spaces they claim, their bodies folding into the comfort of familiarity, their voices rising like music that fills the air. I watch from the sidelines, my presence like a breeze that stirs the curtains but never enters fully.

Every room I enter feels borrowed, as if I have stepped into someone else’s life and can only tiptoe through it, careful not to touch anything, not to disturb the fragile peace that belongs to others. I leave no footprints on the carpet, no fingerprints on the glass. I have learned to navigate quietly, to slip in and out without being noticed, like a shadow cast by something unseen. I feel the walls around me pulse with the life they contain, a heartbeat that is not my own, a rhythm I can never match.

It’s as if I am always knocking on the door but never crossing the threshold. I stand there, on the cold step outside, feeling the warmth of the inside brush against my face, but I never feel it fully on my skin. I am always outside looking in, peering through windows into rooms aglow with light that never reaches me. I am the outsider, forever on the fringe, watching life unfold from the other side of the glass, never invited in.

To be an inhabitant is to know the smell of the walls, the creak of the floorboards, the way light falls through the windows at different times of day. It is to feel the texture of the air change with the seasons, to hear the hum of the refrigerator at 3 a.m., to know which step on the staircase will always groan underfoot. It is to be known by a place and to know it in return, intimately, deeply, as if it has become a part of you and you, a part of it.

But I am not known by any place. I do not belong to any corner or crevice. I am the one who slips in under the cover of darkness, whose name is written in dust rather than ink. I am the one who drifts between spaces, feeling the way they reject me, spit me back out into the cold air of not belonging. I am forever the guest, moving through rooms that are not mine, beds I will not sleep in, and doors I will never close behind me.

I pass through, my presence barely a whisper, a breath against the skin of a life I can never truly touch. I am left hovering in the doorway, where the air is always colder, where the shadows grow long and the light is always just out of reach. I stand there, hands in my pockets, feeling the weight of the spaces I can never claim pressing down on me, a weight that grows heavier with each passing moment, each step I never take.

I am the perpetual guest, and the world is a house that will never be mine. I remain outside, my fingers grazing the doorframe, my feet never crossing the line between here and there. There is no place I can call my own, no room that knows my name, no door that opens for me willingly. I am forever in transit, forever searching for a space that will let me in, but always finding myself back at the beginning—a stranger to every threshold I meet.

And perhaps that is the cruellest truth of all: that I am destined to wander, never quite belonging, never quite seen, forever the guest in a world that moves on without me. A phantom at the edge of every story, a nameless figure passing through the pages, never finding a place to rest.

The images on social media show this over and over—the empty malls, the deserted offices with chairs left spinning, the playgrounds in twilight where no children ever played. These places resonate with me because they are my own; they speak of an existence where the story never begins. Where I hover like a breath just before it is exhaled, hanging in the air, suspended. They are empty because they do not know how to hold me, because I am not made to be held.

I’ve tried to step inside, to enter the frame fully, to feel the world with its weight, to feel alive in a way that doesn’t echo with hollowness. But every time, I find myself slipping back, back into the doorway, back into the corridor that stretches endlessly into the dark. I’ve never been part of the story, only its interruption. A whisper between chapters, an ink smudge on the page.

In these places, I see myself reflected back, a figure without form, a shadow that never becomes flesh. I am drawn to them because they are the only places that tell the truth. Here, in the endless twilight of empty hallways and cold rooms, is where I belong. Where I am what I have always been—a liminal being, caught forever in the act of becoming but never being—it is a curse I carry like a stone in my chest. I feel the weight of all the almosts and could-have-beens, their presence a reminder of every step I failed to take, every door I left unopened, every room I never dared to enter. There is a deep shame in this, a gnawing regret that chews at my insides, whispering of all the ways I’ve failed to step fully into my own skin. I have been caught in the web of my own making, tangled in threads of hesitation, paralyzed by the fear of what might be on the other side.

I think of all the times I have stood at the threshold, my hand hovering over the doorknob, feeling the heat of life radiating from the other side, yet unable to push through- I have waited for a sign, for some force to pull me forward, but it never came. I was too afraid to make the first move, to take that step and claim my place in the world. And so, I lingered, trapped in the twilight between where I was and where I could have been, suspended in a state of perpetual almost.

I feel the weight of the selves I could have been, versions of myself left behind, quietly slipping away. There's an unease in the comfort I’ve found in the unknown, in the shadows where I’ve lingered, waiting for things to change. I’ve spent so much time waiting, hoping for a shift, for a sign that would guide me toward a different path. Yet, there’s a deep awareness that these moments of hesitation have cost me something—a slow drift through time, a distance from the potential I once carried.

It’s like living on the edge of things, forever in the act of becoming, but never quite arriving. I’ve stretched myself in so many directions, tried on so many faces, yet none have felt like they truly belonged. Sometimes I feel like a ghost in my own life, passing through spaces that don’t quite fit, haunted by roles I’ve tried to inhabit but never truly embraced. I’ve held so many possibilities in my hands, yet none have fully taken root.

The passing years have carved out this space where a more certain self should have stood, leaving behind a quiet ache. The moments I didn’t seize, the chances I let slip away—they linger like whispers, reminding me of the lives I could have lived. There’s a sense that I’ve spent so much time in the doorway, waiting, never fully stepping inside, caught between worlds that never quite merge.

Yet, even in this state of suspension, there’s a quiet recognition that my hesitation wasn’t solely my own. There were forces, subtle yet powerful, shaping me long before I knew myself—expectations I never quite agreed to, destinies that felt like they belonged to someone else. The world taught me caution before it ever taught me courage, planting seeds of doubt that took root deep within. Perhaps I’ve spent more time in the pauses, the quiet spaces between breaths, because it was all I knew.

Still, I’m here, caught in the act of becoming. Not lost, but not yet found. There’s a soft reckoning in knowing that the paths I’ve walked may not have been chosen out of fear alone but also out of circumstance, out of the quiet shaping of a world that held me before I knew how to hold myself.

I wish I could say I was strong enough to break free, to pull myself from the web spun tight around me, but I am not sure I ever had that choice. I have moved through life like a leaf caught in a windstorm, tossed and turned by forces far greater than myself, unable to find a moment of stillness, a place where I could plant my feet and stand firm. I have felt myself pulled in a hundred directions at once, and in the chaos, I could not help but freeze, paralyzed by the impossibility of it all.

How could I have acted differently when the script was written long before I even set foot on the stage? When the path was laid out like a trap, a snare hidden beneath the fallen leaves? I was cast as the wanderer in the spaces between, and in that role, I felt myself shrinking, shrinking until I became almost nothing at all.

And yet, even as I drift, I feel the shame like a brand on my skin, knowing I could not have been any other way, that the world had left me with so few choices, and none of them my own. I wonder if fate is cruel, or if it is simply indifferent—if it laughs as it watches me stumble, or if it doesn’t care enough to even notice. I am left standing here, on the edge of what could have been, holding the fragments of a life that never fully came into being, the broken pieces of a self that never had a chance to be whole.

And so I am left with this aching contradiction: the guilt of my own inaction, and the knowledge that I was helpless to act. Caught in a web not of my making, a prisoner to a fate I never chose. A leaf in the wind, a ghost in the doorway, waiting for a storm to pass that may never end.

And so, I remain here, wandering these hollowed-out spaces that stretch on and on. I am the emptiness that fills them. I am the ghost that can never leave. They say these places are only temporary, that they will end, but I know better. I know that some of us never leave.

The door is always open, the light always flickering. I hear footsteps in the distance that never come closer. I feel the walls closing in like a shroud. And still, I wait, knowing that even an ending is too much to ask for.

Because even in endings, there is some kind of peace, and I have been denied even that. I am the silence that fills the gaps, the breath caught in a throat, forever suspended, forever waiting.

#liminalcore #dreamcore #manic pixie nightmare #liminal spaces #liminal #liminal aesthetic #macabre

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marshallpupfan · 2 months ago

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New Marshall Pics! (Season 11, Ep. 11)

A new episode aired today, so... have some pics!

The first segment - "Air Rescue: Pups vs. the Hum-Cloud"

Surprisingly, this segment popped up an hour early on the official PAW Patrol Youtube account (still requires a Canadian VPN to view). Some of us got a peek at the episode before it aired! Can't complain about that!

In any case, I thought this segment was fun, with some good humor and an alright mission. Some folks were concerned it sounded too similar to the first theatrical film, but I can assure you, it's not... especially since ended up being a rather different sticky situation, and I'll leave it at that. Zuma fans will also be pleasantly surprised to hear that he got called in as a first responder, which I thought was cool. A little odd though that Rubble was absent for like 95% of the segment... I'm not sure what's up with that.

But yeah, I enjoyed this one. I'd say it's probably my second favorite of the Air Rescue content, behind last week's Rocket-Powered Pogo. Not an all-time classic episode or anything, but still good!

And segment #2 - "Air Rescue: Pups Stop the Mid-Air Magnet"

This one was a little weird. I mean, the first segment was, too... but this one, even more so. The whole dilemma started because Uncle Otis wanted something to pick up his tools... all three of them. A little excessive there, don't you think? lol

Otherwise, the so-called Ground Crew got plenty of action in this one, including both before and during the mission. Strangely, while Rubble was largely absent for most of the first segment, this time it was... Chase? Granted, he had a role in the mission, but before and after that, he was just nowhere to be found. Again, what's up with that? Either way, I felt this segment wasn't as good as the first, but I still enjoyed it well enough. Not the best nor worst way to send off Air Rescue.

That's all for now!

#PAW Patrol #PAWPatrol #Marshall #Marshall Paw Patrol #MarshallPawPatrol #Paw Patrol Marshall #PawPatrolMarshall #Spin Master #Nick Jr

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mrsaltieri-real · 11 months ago

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Good Boy, Meeks (Mickey Altieri X Randy Meeks)

Words: 2.8k

Warning/s: language, smut, slight dom/sub dynamic, handjobs, blowjob, teasing, cum eating, cum play, filming/sex tape, hair pulling, Randy’s a nervous wreck, Mickey’s a teasing ass, implied stalking, frenemies to fuck buddies.

A/N: SO this is my first fic that is two canon characters. No reader insert, no OC. Just Mickey and Randy. The Film Bro’s™️. This was ridiculously fun to write, I’m definitely going to do stuff like this more often. I love them so much. Thank you @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing! You’re such a massive help dude!

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Mickey had always found Randy sweet.

In a lot of ways, they were the same. Film geeks with an unfiltered passion for cinema and the art surrounding it, constantly looking for a deeper meaning, both there and in real life. Then again, they were more different than similar.

Randy was a small town boy still reeling from the series of murders that rocked him a year back. He never showed it, but he lived in a constant state of unease, glancing over his shoulder and never letting anybody but Sidney in. Even then, he couldn’t talk to her about this stuff. She was healing, getting better. He was happy for her, but when she began dating Derek, he realized that he truly was all alone.

Mickey, on the other hand, was from the city. Eager, outgoing, confident. He wasn’t scared about people finding him arrogant or full of himself, he lived his life with no regrets. He was being bankrolled through college by Billy Loomis’ mother to help her finish the job he and Stu Macher couldn’t. Mickey was violent, in more ways than the obvious. His ambition made him all the more magnetic, especially to Randy.

They had a fun frenemy vibe going for a while, though they both knew it was more affectionate than anything. Mickey liked Randy, he thought he was simply adorable. Randy liked Mickey, he enjoyed arguing with him even though most of the time he knew he was just saying opposing views on cinema to get a rise out of him, like when he’d sat in front of him and blatantly said that Superman 2 was better than Superman 1. Randy could see the amusement in his eyes as he argued back, but decided to roll with it.

Anything to stretch out the conversation.

Randy wasn’t gay. He knew he wasn’t gay, he’d been in love with Sidney since before he even knew what love was. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d glance over at Mickey in class or in the cafeteria, watch his head tip back as he laughed, the dimples in his cheeks. His eyes would drift to his strong, muscular arms, watch his huge hands run through his hair or drum against his thigh, and it was almost impossible to look away.

But no, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t bi, he was straight. Right?

“Randy!” Fingers snapped in front of Randy’s face, and he blinked, shaking his head before his blue eyes tentatively met light brown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine, why?” Randy cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat and looking down at his paper. He and Mickey had been paired for a project on cinematography in horror, and it bugged Randy that the moment their names were spoken out one after the other by their professor, he’d felt his heart flutter a little.

“Well, I was talking to you and you were just… Staring at me.” Mickey’s tone was light, almost playful. He didn’t look away from Randy, his grin spreading wider as he saw the rush of colour flood to the boy's cheeks. How cute is that?

“Fuck off, Mickey, no I wasn’t.” Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “Stop fucking around, what were you saying?”

“C’mon, Meeks! Tell me what you were thinking about.” Mickey leaned forward in his own seat, his hand reaching out and playfully pushing Randy’s shoulder. Randy swatted at his hand, only making Mickey chuckle and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay!” He shook his head, still smiling as he grabbed his camera from his desk, flipping the small flap open and holding it up. “Don’t wanna tell me? Tell the camera.”

“Mickey, I swear to God, fuck off.” Randy held up his hand, turning his head to the side and burying his face into his shoulder. “You’re such an ass, dude.”

“Aw, I know.” Mickey didn’t drop the camera. His eyes were fixed on Randy through the tiny screen, his head tilting just slightly to the side. His smile had changed into a somewhat affectionate half smile, watching as Randy peeked up at him. “What?”

“You like me, don’t you?”

The question took him by such surprise, Randy let out a laugh that was a little too loud, a roll of his eyes that was a little too dramatic and stood to his feet, pushing the chair back a little too hard. Mickey watched the ordeal with an amused expression and a cocked brow, the camera still focused on Randy, “I think you’re a dick.”

“And I think that you think I’m blind and stupid.” Mickey retorted, finally looking up from the small screen, his eyes settling and Randy’s awkward stance. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”

Randy looked away, as he says, “I don’t like you. Not like that.”

Mickey presses, “Like what?”

“Like- Oh, shut up.” Randy muttered, beginning to walk toward Mickey’s bathroom.

Before he could get past him, Mickey’s large hand that Randy had so often admired shot out, wrapping around his forearm easily and holding him next to him.

“Don’t make it weird, Meeks. We can fuck if that’s what you want.”

Mickey said it so matter-of-factly it took Randy a little by surprise, his eyes shooting to Mickey, who still gripped the camera in his other hand, the band around his wrist and his arm resting beside him.

“But you’re not…” Randy’s voice trailed off and Mickey let out another laugh.

There is that infuriatingly dazzling smile as he asked, “I’m not what? Gay?”

Randy stumbles over his words as he responds, “I mean… Yeah. I’ve seen you with girls and stuff.”

“Yeah, so? What, you're a film major and think people can’t branch out a little?”

Randy frowned, this isn’t as simple as making a movie in a different genre, at least not to Randy. His eyes darting from Mickey’s hand wrapped around his arm and to his face. He couldn’t deny, when Mickey touched him, he felt an uncomfortably strong wave of arousal flow through his body and stab him straight in the stomach.

Fuck, he hated that Mickey made him feel this way. Fucking Mickey Altieri of all people. It was no surprise really, though. Randy had seen first hand, he could pretty much fuck anybody he wanted. He was outrageously attractive, magnetic and just downright charming. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to him, and had been for a pathetic amount of time. And now, here he was, telling him he wanted him.

Randy didn’t move, caught in a hesitating limbo, so Mickey helped him, tugging on his arm and pulling him in front of him.

He had no idea what he was doing. He’d thought about this, this moment more times than he cared to admit whilst he was fisting his cock in the shower, thinking of Mickey. His hands, his arms, his smile, his cock, and more often than not, his lips. He was always filled with guilt after, wondering how Mickey would feel if he knew that Randy touched himself to thoughts of him on his knees with Mickey in his mouth.

This was fucking unbearable.

Mickey’s brown eyes were fixed on Randy’s torn expression, watching the vast array of emotions pass over his face. Suddenly, it wasn’t so amusing.

“Nod if you want me.” Mickey said, his voice unnaturally soft and tender.

Randy’s final thought was simple.

Fuck it.

He nodded his head, eyes, watching as Mickey released his arm and gently palmed over himself. Randy hadn’t noticed before that he was already half hard. Did he know? This entire time that Randy wanted him this much? Did he want it as long as he did, too?

Mickey didn’t speak, but he stood to his feet, placing the still rolling camera down on his desk, the lenses facing them, a light smile on his lips as he leaned forward, his hand moving from his own aching bulge in favour of Randy’s. The two of them were wearing sweatpants, and Mickey smiled in satisfaction at how fucking hard Randy was for him. He could feel his heat, feel the throbbing before he even made contact.

Mickey’s other hand cradled Randy’s flushed cheek, finding it sweet how panicked Randy looked, as if he was afraid this was all some big joke to his expense. But this wasn’t, Mickey wanted Randy, had done since the first day the little geek challenged him in film class.

Randy found that focusing on the beauty spot just beside Mickey’s eyes calmed him down slightly, humanizing the other boy a little more.

Mickey wasn’t going to kiss Randy first, however. He felt like that was something Randy had to do, and it didn’t take him anywhere near as long as he expected.

The minute Mickey’s head ghosted over him, Randy bit the bullet, closing the space and pressing his lips against Mickey’s with a passion that took Mickey by surprise. Randy let out a shaking moan into his mouth, pushing himself greedily against Mickey’s hand in desperate need for friction, to which the other boy eagerly obliged, his hand moving to frail his fingers down Randy’s happy trail and slipping smoothly into Randy’s sweats and boxers, eagerly kissing him back as he did. Mickey tasted like mint, his lips were unbearably soft and something about them seemed like home, the rough feeling of Mickey’s stubble scratched against Randy’s face, so satisfying and just how he dreamed it would.

The moment Randy felt Mickey’s well worked hand wrap around his cock, he was worried he was going to cum then and there. His hips thrust a little as he gasped into Mickey’s mouth, feeling him smile against him as he did. Randy’s hands were fast and eager, but he was stopped sharply by Mickey, who pulled back, shaking his head.

“Oh, God I- I’m sorry, fuck, I-“

Randy began rambling, his face flushing a deep red. Mickey simply rolled his eyes, bending down to pull Randy’s sweats and boxers down before pulling his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “Shut up, I thought it would be easier this way, no?”

This was the first time Randy had seen Mickey shirtless. He momentarily marvelled at the hairs on his chest, his toned stomach, and swallowed thickly.

Before Randy could reply, Mickey kissed him, deeper and with more vigour than last time. Randy’s leaking cock pressed between both of their stomachs. Mickey’s hands gripped Randy’s hips, pulling him even closer to him and forcing him to grind against him before he pressed him firmly up against the wall, his lips beginning to drift from Randy’s lips, to his jaw, to his throat.

“F-fuck.” Randy’s moan was unsteady, his hands unconsciously moving to knot in his thick dark hair, his hips beginning to grind against him by themselves. The friction felt incredible, but what felt even better was Mickey’s hand beginning to slowly pump Randy’s cock as he kissed his neck, the sensation making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Mickey used Randy’s pre-cum as lube as he allowed the boy to messily thrust against his hand, his simpering whimpers and moans fucking music to his ears.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you like this, Meeks.” Mickey breathed into Randy’s ear, twisting his hand expertly and relishing in the gentle whines flooding out from Randy’s lips. “A leaking fucking mess just for me.”

“Just for you.” Randy echoed Mickey’s words, his hands gripping his hair even tighter as his pace began to steadily increase.

The feeling of his rough hand gliding up and down his shaft, his messy cock aching and throbbing, it was nothing like he’d had before. His first and only time with Karen Kolcheck back in Woodsboro seemed pretty much laughable compared to how Mickey was making him feel right now with just his hand. Randy knew he was close, his balls were aching, and he could feel himself ready to unload all over Mickey’s stomach, but he didn’t want to. He knew that once he did, it would be over.

Fuck, he didn’t want this to be over.

“You gonna cum for me, Randy?” Mickey asked. Randy let out a soft whine, flinching in effort to avoid doing just that.

“N-no.” He groaned out, the grip on Mickey’s hair tightening.

Mickey let out a breathy laugh, his hand slowing to a gentle pump. “Why not?” He asked.

Randy didn’t answer, his head falling forward, so his forehead pressed against Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey wasn’t having that. He pulled his hand away from Randy’s sloppy cock, knocking his arms out of the way so he could pull Randy’s head back before gripping his chin between his long fingers.

“Why not?” He asked again, his tone a little harder.

“Because I don’t want it to be done.” Randy blurted out. He felt Mickey cock twitch against his from the confines of his sweats and briefs and felt an overwhelming desire to touch him too. Mickey looked at the hungry expression on Randy’s face and smiled affectionately, releasing Randy’s jaw and sliding his hand into his hair.

“Okay, on your knees then.”

Before the words were completely out of Mickey’s mouth, Randy was on his knees, pulling down Mickey’s remaining clothes.

Randy had only seen his own dick and dicks in porn. No pornstar cock would ever compare to Mickey’s. The only word that came to mind was mouthwatering.

After Mickey spent a little time talking Randy through it, Randy took him greedily into his mouth, moaning at how delicious he tasted, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Fuckkkkk.” Mickey groaned, his head tipping back and one hand still resting on the top of his head. He glanced at the camera, picking it up and focusing it down on the adorable sight before him; Randy greedily sucking his cock as if his life fucking depended on it. Randy made a sound of disapproval at the sight of the camera, but Mickey shook his head. “Thought you might want to watch this back when you fuck yourself thinking about me.”

A brief thought of how the fuck does he know I do that? Crossed his mind for the briefest of moments before he forgot all about it, focusing on the feeling of Mickey’s thick, heavy cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head obediently, feeling Mickey begin to thrust harder, pushing his way down Randy’s throat.

“Yeah, good boy. Look up into the camera with my cock in your mouth, Meeks.” Mickey instructed, voice heavy and dripping with arousal. Randy did just that, feeling Mickey begin to twitch in his mouth as soon as he did. “Mm. You wanna get off?” He asked, smiling at Randy’s muffled yes. “Go on.”

Randy quickly took his own sensitive cock into his hand, realizing quickly his pre-cum had dropped onto Mickey’s hardwood floor. Mickey angled the camera, zooming in on the sight and watching it intently, his hips snapping against Randy’s face urgently.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Mickey grunted, halting his movement. Randy’s nose pressed against Mickey’s skin for a moment, beginning to splutter slightly as Mickey began to release hot ribbons of white down his throat, before pulling back to fill up Randy’s mouth.

The delicious taste, along with Mickey’s gorgeous expression, his head back and his chest heaving as he came, sent Randy into a convulsing mess, cumming all over his own hand, stomach and the ground beneath him. Mickey pulled out of his mouth quickly, relishing in the sound of Randy’s gasping moans as he finished.

It was silent between them for a moment, Randy trembling on his knees, not looking Mickey in the eyes. Mickey still had the camera rolling, looking fondly into the small window of it, before he glanced down at Randy pointedly.

“You made a mess, Meeks.”

Randy let out a sigh, relieved at the broken silence, before he asked, “What?”

Mickey nodded down beneath him at the cum staining the floor. Randy blushed, moving to shakily to stand up, only to be stopped by Mickey’s large, grounding hand.

“Clean it up.”

“I- I was going to. Was gonna get some paper towels and-“

“No, Randy.” Mickey cut him off, the cheeky smile back on his face as he knelt down in front of him. Mickey’s finger dipped into the impressive pool of white, before he raised it to his own mouth and licked it. Randy watched intently, his once softened cock twitching at the sight. Fuck.

“On your hands and knees-“ Mickey stopped, moving the camera and angling it down at the mess. “And clean. It. Up.”

Randy stared at Mickey for a moment, before nodding his head, and doing exactly what he was told.

He got on his hands and knees, dipping his head down, and began to lap up his own cum from the hardwood floor. Mickey watched through the camera, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sight.

“Good boy, Meeks.”

#mickey and randy my darlings #no one can tell me they didn’t canonically fuck at least once #I love them #this was ridiculously fun #hope you all enjoy!#scream #mickey altieri #randy meeks #mickey altieri and randy meeks #m x m #mickey altieri smut #randy meeks smut #mickey and randy smut #scream smut

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