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#the rose and cherry scene
jpriest85-blog · 4 months
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Some more fanart of @barbwritesstuff Bloodmoon depecting Lawerence Blackwell meeting my MC, Hala at The Rose and Cherry Cafe.
It's interesting to see the similarities and comparisions of Blackwells dynamic with Carrie, and Hala to Charles Perrault's "Little Red Ridding Hood." With Carrie, Blackwell is clearly the "wolf" in their relatonship dynamic. Disguising himself as Carrie's guardian and family, feeding her blood, and offering her a place to rest beside's him so she's easily acessiable and docile prey. Then when Carrie goes missing the werewolf that comes to speak with him is just this little slip of a girl wearing hand me down clothes, and homemade jewlery who's barly into her mid 20s. She's even wearing a red headscarf! Compaired to someone like Blackwell who's been around a few centuries Hala seems like another child he can cow into obedience with a flash of fangs and promise of reward.
Yet if you pay attention to the shadows you can tell who the real Apex predator is. Sure Hala doesn't look as intimidating as Blackwell in her human form, but it took tremendous will power for someone as amiable as her to not pop Blackwall's head off like a Champage cork. Espically after having to deal with his creepy stepford smile, terrible smell of rot, and even more odious personality. How much poision has Carrie had to swallow over the years because of him? Not just the blood cocktails but the horrible insults and derrogitory remarks about werewolves that Carrie internalized from him while growing up?! The only reasion Hala was able to keep a polite smile during her talk with Blackwell was because she was imagining the painful ways she wanted to murder this entitled and abusive POS parasite!
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Nine: dying
Rose: makes it better with her presence alone
Ten: dying
Rose: makes it better with her presence alone
Eleven: dying in “Let’s Kill Hitler”
TARDIS: oh don’t worry I know what to do...let’s bring out ROSE :D
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5 Times They Had A Nightmare and 1 Time Lia Had a Nightmare
Summary: Yeah, title says it all.
Notes: Around 2900 words. Warnings here: death, gore, body horror.
The weeks after seeing their family die were full of nightmares. It got so bad that they tried staying awake as much as possible just so they wouldn't have to relive that moment.
It didn't work. Obviously, it wouldn't. Amalia even said it was a bad idea.
...
It was such a perfect day. They could hear the joyous laughs as Annie and their cousins play around the trees. Close by, they can hear their dad joking around with their aunt. They also finally manage to convince their mom to put down her work and for a moment she's laying down on the picnic blanket watching the clouds pass by with them at her side.
It was such a perfect day.
Why did it have to end?
They're overwhelmed with the mix of screams and the smell of iron.
They close their eyes shut. No matter how many times they see this it won't go away. It won't stop. They want it to stop. Please.
Their hands are still shaking as they try to keep themselves quiet. Keep themselves safe. Hope that the monsters don't get them.
Then they hear her.
Annie, their sweet little sister, begging for help.
They try to save Annie. They tried so many times to save her. They want to be able to save her at least once. At least give them the chance to make up for failing her in the real world.
This time they're carrying her in their arms. Holding her tightly like the day their parents let them hold her for the first time.
They try to outrun the monsters chasing them.
It doesn't work.
It never works.
It takes her.
They wake up, surrounded by empty cans of energy drinks, tears running down their face and... a blanket on them?
They wake up, surrounded by empty cans of energy drinks, tears running down their face and... a blanket on them?
Slowly, they got their head up and right there close to the table is Amalia, who they're pretty sure is going to tell them that she was right and they should've listened to her, but she didn't.
Not right now.
She takes a moment to help calm them. They really needed that, their heart's still racing. After checking that they're fine, she helps them get to bed.
...
It's almost a year since they lost their family. The nightmares didn't stop and at this point they've accepted that it would haunt them for the rest of their life.
They've stopped forcing themselves to stay up.
Can't really stop sleeping. It's not like they can stop their body from falling asleep.
They're only human after all.
...
It's the same scene. The laughter, the jokes, but something's different this time.
Their mother isn't watching the clouds, she's watching them.
Her eyes staring into their soul.
They want to speak, but they can't.
She speaks instead.
"Why do you torture yourself, my child?"
They don't–they don't know what she meant by that.
Her haunting voice continues, "You're stuck here, in this moment of time. You have a purpose much greater than this that you cannot fulfill until you remember why you're here."
What? What does she mean by that?
Her features shift, she's now someone else...someone that should be familiar to them, but they can't remember who.
She's bleeding from her chest.
"I'm sorry, you have to wake up now."
Wait wha–
The person stabs them in the chest with the knife from her bleeding heart.
The last thing they see are her sad eyes staring at them.
They wake up with a jolt. Their hand goes to their chest, almost expecting blood, but they only find their rapidly beating heart.
They're not in the woods.
They're in Amalia's room.
They look around and spot her studying, she has her earphones on. She's tapping her foot to the beat of the song she's listening to.
It's cute.
Amalia's here. They're here. They're home.
Their heart slows down to a reasonable speed.
She notices them. She stops what she's doing and takes her earphones off.
Her focus is only on them.
"Did you have another nightmare?"
"Yeah, this one's...different though."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
They don't exactly want to tell their best friend that they dreamt about their own mother killing them.
"Not... really. Not right now."
"Okay, that's alright. You can tell me when you want to okay? You don't have to keep it all to yourself."
"Okay, thanks Lia."
She goes back to studying.
Her words keep repeating in their head.
They're gonna tell her.
They're gonna tell her the truth.
She wouldn't believe them, but they have to tell someone.
They don't have to deal with this alone.
...
So it's been a few months since they told her the truth about what happened that day. It was nice to have someone believe them and it for a moment they even had nice dreams.
But it didn't last.
...
They're in the woods again.
They walk around, hearing the occasional bird chirp.
It's calm...too calm.
The stench of rot hits their nose.
They're staring at a trail made with the dead bodies of their family.
Reluctantly, they follow it.
They see everyone. Their body parts strewn around, path splattered with blood, guts, and bones.
Someone is missing though.
At the end of the path, they find her.
In the middle of a circle of trees is their little sister, laying on the ground.
They run towards her and scoop her into their arms.
They can feel her heart beating. She's breathing. She's alive. Annie's alive. She's alive.
They have to leave.
They aren't safe here.
Oh good, Annie's waking up. She can hold on to them while they–
Why are her eyes blue?
She starts crying and shaking in their arms.
"...help..."
"Shh, I don't know what happened, but you're safe now, okay?"
She gives them a small smile.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbles.
"Hold on tight, Annie."
Carrying her, they run as ground glows in cyan light.
Before they can get out of the circle of trees, something stops them.
They keep...hitting...something...
Why can't they go through?!
Annie screams.
Something's pulling her away from them.
No! They're not gonna let it take her! They just need to leave! They can finally be together!
They keep pushing and pushing, meanwhile there's something coming out of the ground behind them.
At the corner of their vision, they see a cyan blur.
Cyan tendrils wrap around them. Forcing their sister out of their arms.
It takes her.
Drags her back towards the center.
The light glows brighter.
She screams for their help.
They need to help her, but they can't!
It won't let them go. No matter how much they fight it.
It should be them. Not her.
Cyan light engulfs her.
They can't–
They can't close their eyes. They don't want to see this. They can't move. Can't turn away. They're forced to look at their suffering sister.
The light is inside her. It ripples and crawls under her skin. Mushrooms burst from her chest feeding off her decaying heart. Mycelium spreads and stretches around her torso, draining every bit of blood from her little body. Her limbs sprout dark leaves, wrapping around her arms and legs, whatever's left of her skin turns to bark. Her hair falls off in clumps, replaced by thick thorny vines.
She stops screaming.
The ground stops glowing.
They want to catch her as she falls.
But they can't.
She drops with a sickening crack.
She stands up as if nothing happened.
Her glowing cyan eyes stare at them.
"...Annie?"
"..."
The tendrils let them go.
They try to take a step towards her.
"Get away from me."
"I don't want to leave you!"
"I can't stop it."
That's not her voice.
"Run!"
They're so sorry.
They turn and run.
"Why are you running away from me?"
That's not Annie.
"Come back! Save me please!"
Don't listen to it.
"Don't leave!"
No matter how much it sounds like her, it's not her.
"I don't wanna be alone!"
Not anymore.
They're almost out of the forest and then–
They wake up. Her screams are still fresh. Still echo in their mind.
Their heart beats as if they've been running for ages.
They're not in the woods. They're crashing on the sofa at Amalia's apartment. They still got their monster hunting gear on and they really regret their sleeping position.
They wipe their face. There's tears and snot all over their arm.
It's a good thing Lia's roommates aren't here.
They hear a door handle turning.
They do not want to explain this to other people right now.
They close their eyes and pretend to sleep.
Lia's the one that enters. They know her footsteps anywhere.
"I know you're awake. You're really bad at pretending to sleep."
They stop pretending and got up to sit on the couch properly.
"Aw, I thought I did better this time."
"You sleep like a corpse when you don't get nightmares. Really freaks me out sometimes."
"I'll try to sleep less then."
She is glaring at them, "Don't."
"I know, I know. I still remember what happened the first time I tried it."
She sits next to them on the couch.
"Another nightmare?"
"...yeah."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Are you prepared to hear what this one was about?"
"If it helps you, then yeah."
They tell her everything. The whole bloody scene, the possession, the transformation, her screams.
She holds them as they cry.  At least someone else knows about it.
They stay like that for a while, one holding the other like a lifeline.
After some time passes. They let her go. She still needs to go back to sleep.
Amalia goes back to her room.
Oh, they got an email.
Westchester... something about that place keeps calling to them.
Maybe, it's all the supernatural stuff.
Maybe... it's because of the incident.
Either way they're going to have to go there anyway.
Westchester Community College is the only one that's accepting their college application.
...
It's been a week since they've been staying at Connor's cabin and it has been exhausting. Between finding out that they have powers, Annie being a ghost, a weird voice in their dreams, and to add on that college... is actually the least of their worries, but still, trying to do schoolwork while their brain's thinking about everything else is just ughhhh.
So getting to bed and falling asleep? Easy.
...
They're...in the library?
Wait... No!
They have to get out of there!
So they ran.
They try to find the doors.
They run through so many halls.
They've seen bookshelf after bookshelf.
But the library's a labyrinth.
They just have to avoid her then.
What section of the library are they in anyway?
... It's the dreams section.
...Of course.
They see cyan in the corner of their eye.
There's a book that's glowing.
"Things That Live In The Woods"
Against their will, they walk towards the book.
They touch it.
...
They're in the woods.
It's dark.
They stumble around, hearing the snaps of twigs as they do.
Then they hear her.
She's screaming.
They run towards her.
Their path becomes clearer with the moon lighting parts of the woods.
They can make it this time. They can save her. They won't fail her.
Not again.
They hear her shrieks.
They get weaker as they get closer.
They're at the spot.
They just fall to their knees.
They failed her again.
Her glossy eyes are staring at them.
The knife still stabs her heart.
Why can't they do it?
Why do the people they care for always die?
Maybe there's just something about them that's unlucky.
Maybe they're cursed.
The world around them shakes.
Why are they shaking?
"–up. Wake up."
...Is that Lia?
They open their eyes.
Her worried face is the first thing they see.
"Sorry for shaking you awake, but you were shouting."
They pull her into a tight hug. She lets them hold her while they cry right into her shoulder. She comforts them as they hold each other.
They... they have to ask her...
"Lia...do you think I'm cursed?"
"No. Why would you–"
"I mean if you think about it. It explains a lot. My family's dead, I have powers that could kill people, and mostly everyone I've ever been close to is either dead or they're as far away from me as possible."
Amalia is just silent. Is she shocked? Thinking about the right words to say? Or is she also agreeing?
They continued, "I'm just lucky you haven't–"
"Don't even say it."
Lia starts going into Lawyer Mode basically debunking practically everything that they said complete with evidence.
Of course it's her last point that ends up summarizing her whole argument.
"It wasn't your fault she died."
They know that. They know that they're not the one that killed her.
But she wouldn't be dead if she didn't help them.
She wouldn't be dead if–
"Hey," she squeezes their hand, "you're getting lost in your thoughts again."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize. It's not your fault."
Still they have to ask.
"...we'll always be together, right?"
"Hey, we've been friends for a long time. Nothing could keep us apart." 
...
It's hard to believe that Lia's right there, right beside them. She didn't have to come back. She didn't have to sleep next to them, but here she is, their best friend and the love of their life, sharing a bed together.
After confessing how they feel about each other.
As much as they would like to explore these feelings while in private, Connor hasn't stopped screaming and really the only reason why Amalia's asleep is because she managed to block some of the screams with her headphones. They took it off after a while; she's surprisingly a deep sleeper. 
Sleep eventually comes for them. 
...
It's a nice spring day in the woods.
Perfect for a picnic for two.
There's nobody here to disturb them.
They have something special planned for today.
They've set a spot for them in the middle of some Birch trees.
They get there and sit on the picnic blanket.
Amalia keeps sneezing, but that's fine.
What's a little pollen going to do?
So they look inside the basket and find...
A strawberry cake?
Wait, no. That's not right.
A cherry pie?
Yeah, maybe that can work.
So, they grab her a slice of pie.
While they're eating, Lia keeps scratching her throat.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know. My mouth's itchy for some reason."
There's something that's familiar about what's happening to her.
Wait... is it the food?
Oh no.
Her allergies.
How could they forget that?
Okay, calm down.
Did they bring an Epipen?
They did! They saw it in the basket somewhere.
They can hear her struggle to breathe.
They have to find it.
...
Where did the basket go?
It was right there!
There's a thud.
They turn and see...
Lia, her body stiff and her face swollen.
She's dead.
She's dead and it's their fault.
Lia's dead because they don't remember anything.
They're not them. They're just a copy of them. Some spirit that decided to possess a dead body.
And now...
They hold on to her, their tears dropping down at her cold corpse.
They wake up, they're in Connor's cabin.
Lia...
She's next to them.
She's not dead. 
She's still asleep.
Still alive.
Still breathing.
They hold her close.
Her heart beats with theirs.
She's so warm.
She turns and now she's facing them.
Still asleep, she has a little smile on her face.
She's...beautiful? Cute? A mix of both and so much more?
They're so lucky.
They're so fucking lucky that this amazing, wonderful woman is right at their side.
You know what, when all of this is over they're going to have a nice day at the beach with her. They'll prepare the most romantic beach date ever.
And after that? 
They both deserve a break. At least before Lia's semester starts.
Maybe in the future, they'll have a nice domestic life far away from all of this.
Maybe they'll visit some of Lia's family.
They don't care what they'll do as long as she's with them.
They'll spend the rest of their life with her. 
They're dying.
Matthias stabbed them.
What can she even do?
There's a vortex of power swirling around him.
He's cackling as he celebrates the success of his plan.
But her focus is only on them.
On the body on the altar.
She doesn't care what happens to her if she gets close.
She just wants...
She has to be with them.
She tries to ignore how cold their cheek feels.
Or how the light in their eyes is gone.
"Hey, honey. It'll be okay. All right? It'll be okay, I promise. I love you."
She presses a gentle kiss to their forehead.
Hoping. Praying.
That by some miracle that there's actually some magic in true love's kiss.
But that's a lie she's telling herself.
Her sobs echo in the cold cavern. 
...
Amalia wakes up, her face stained with tears. 
Some days, it's hard to believe that they're right there next to her.
She presses herself against their back.
Their soft snores and beating heart being the most calming sounds in the world.
And when they wake up.
Brown eyes staring back at her.
They'll kiss her gently on the forehead.
Remind her how much they love her.
The thought may be silly at times but maybe...
They did get their happy ending together in the end.
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lebrookestore · 7 months
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reading sixteen and why does taeyong taste like cigs when she kisses bro isnt that not a very nice taste...😭
can confirm it is not. but uh parts of that scene are based off real experiences 🤠 so uh make of that what u will
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writers-potion · 6 months
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Could I ask for tips on how to write kisses?
Writing The Perfect Kiss Scene
#1 Find the RIGHT moment
We all know what I mean! The "zing" when the character's faces are get close enough must come unexpected (but) when both of them are looking for romance/comfort.
For example:
Tripping over each other in the hallway
Person A covering their face with their hands and Person B prying them off, their eyes meeting...
Sitting next to each other in the library, elbows touching, and they happen to turn around to face each other...
Find a natural way to bring your characters the romantic atmosphere!
#2 Noticing the Other Person
It's natural to to see someone in a different way when there's romantic vibe pulsating in the air. Maybe your character notices that their crush has a speck of green in their eyes they didn't notice before.
#3 Build Ups
Describe how the characters feel moments before their lips touch. This includes things like racing hearts, sweaty palms, unsteady breathing. etc.
#4 Feeling all Self-Conscious
If you're writing a first-person POV or want to portray the nervous excitement of kissing a love interest for the first time, you can afford to have your character be distracted by how they feel inside, or worrying about how they smell/look, etc.
Maybe they feel like it's too early in the relationship to kiss
They're still thinking about that annoying math problem
Did I apply my new cherry-flavored chapstick? etc.
This should come in the same beat as the "notice the other person", heightening the romance tension between the characters.
Once they get closer and the kiss actually happens, these worries will melt away!
#4 Describing the Details
In most cases, it's best to keep things understated (especially in regards to tongues)
tongues cannot "tangle" or "battle" or "swish around"...please, no.
Focus on the lips and how the characters move (like hugging, pushing the other against a wall, breathing, etc.), adding the tongue as an afterthought.
Don't get too exicted about taste.
No, her tongue didn't taste like fresh roses and peaches, unless she was eating peach candy right before the kiss.
Focus on other sensations other than taste: especially touch, heat. the tickle of his breath on her cheekc, etc. Or even the smell of shampoo.
#5 The Pullaway + Reaction
Does the kiss end naturally, or does something else interrupt them?
How do the characters react: do they blush, say something, hug he other person, or run away with a deep blush? For couples, they can even tease the other.
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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sincerelyrki · 5 months
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but i love the taste of you
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Heeseung never did enjoy lollipops, their overrated taste never interesting him. But perhaps tasting it from your lips could change everything. As for the laptop? It just happened to be in the perfect place, at the perfect time.
pairing : bf!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings + genre : smut. profanity. licking. biting. heeseung is lowkey obsessed. unprotected sex (pls don’t!). oral (both ways). kissing over a lollipop (trust 🙏). recording. switch!heeseung. switch!reader. little bit of degrading (just a bit, promise). spit it mentioned a few times. 18+. mdni.
wc : 3.9k
a/n : you can probably see my addiction to secondhand tasting [ cherry lips, a cherry for my cherry, and now this one… (the lollipop was def cherry flavoured in my head)] anyways, this is only my second time writing full smut so please lmk how i did! fb + rbs are always appreciated <3
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Heeseung sat with his jaw clenched; hands fisting by his side as he watched your lollipop glide down your tongue, satisfying pops sounding out whenever you pulled it from your mouth. 
He felt like he was losing his mind, his patience wearing thin the longer he listened to your soft hums of delight. 
The sounds were identical to the ones he had you making just hours ago, your body still clad in nothing but his t-shirt and your cute little panties. 
You were daunting him, you had to be. There was no other explanation as to why you were making all these erotic sounds, why you were licking your lollipop in the same way you had done to him that same morning. 
Heeseung rose to a stand, feet bringing him towards you without hesitation. He stood tall in front of you, his body blocking your vision from your computer’s screen. 
“I can’t see, baby. Can you please move over?” You looked up at him over your lashes, wide eyes matching your perfectly pouted lips.
Heeseung swore under his breath, his pants tightening as he laid a firm hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you to lean back against the couch. 
You sat back with a smirk, teeth still pressing down on the lollipop stick. At first, you didn’t mean to make the whole scene suggestive, but you’d never pass up the opportunity to tease your boyfriend. 
You knew how easily he got turned on, how easy it was for you to turn him to putty in your hands. It wasn’t that you always took advantage of it, but there’s no harm in doing it every once in a while. 
Especially when he looked as good as he did now, his messy hair - courtesy to you- stirring your arousal as the reminder of your long morning came rolling back.
You sat still under him, your eyes never leaving his heated ones, basking in the way he glared down at you. You had been fantasizing about his reaction, about how rough he would take you.
There’s nothing that irritated Heeseung more than when his good girl teased him, but there’s also nothing that turned him on more. 
There was something about your innocent facade, your delicate eyes staring at him with the warmth of the morning sun. Something about the way you conceived everyone into thinking you were some perfect, flawless, princess. 
The way you convinced everyone that you were nothing like how you actually were, you’re just a brat wearing a pretty face. But you were only Heeseungs brat, something he proved to you whenever he could.
Heeseung turned his back towards you, bending at the waist to pick up your computer. He rolled his eyes at the rotting footage playing across from him, some random romance sitcom with no specific plot.
It was the same genre you always chose to indulge in, sitting pretty while your brain worked on autopilot to create its own interpretations of how these soulless actors would portray these tedious scenes. 
That’s when an idea hit Heeseung, one that he’d been fantasizing about since the day he first touched you. What better movie is there to watch, than the one you create with the person you love?
It was perfect, everything about it. 
And so Heeseung turned back around, putting his weight on one knee and he moved the other on your other side. He sat down on your plush thighs, straddling you as you sunk deeper into the couch. 
You had long lost eye contact your the man before you, the computer blocking your sight. You ignored the way your show suddenly turned quiet, rolling your eyes at what you thought was Heeseung being over dramatic.
But what he had done next, was something that you’d be thinking about the next time you needed some sort of relief, your hands down your parties as you pleasured yourself to the thought of your boyfriend. 
Heeseung placed the computer on the side table, the two of you fitting perfectly in frame. He barely glanced at the screen before he grabbed your jaw, one hand holding it as the other pressed down on your bottom lip.
Two sides of Heeseung’s fingers touched against the lollipop in your mouth, sandwiching it between his fingers as he pried your mouth open. 
You looked up at Heeseung in shock, the lollipop sitting loose in your mouth as you allowed him to control your body in the ways he wanted. 
“You know, I’m not a huge fan of lollipops…” Heeseung trailed off, his fingers crawling from your mouth and onto your tongue. He swiped two fingers across the sugary surface of the lollipop, trailing it in a line across one side of the candy.
He then dragged his fingers from the lollipop, across your tongue, and to your lips. He used his fingers to rub the sweetness across your mouth, a sweet coat of sugar replacing your long smudged lipgloss.
“But I love the taste of you.” He used the same two fingers to pull the candy from your mouth, leaning it to vertically press against your lips. He leaned down to your face, pressing his lips to the other side of the lollipop.
He then angled the stick in a way that allowed the lollipop to stick in the middle of both of your lips, the taste transferring to the both of you. 
He closed his eyes, uncaring of the fact that yours were wide open and staring directly at him. He gently stuck out his tongue, removing his lips enough to run his tongue across the side of the lollipop.
He turned his head as his tongue slowly moved across it, eventually meeting the end and ending on the corner of your lips.
Heeseung stayed in that position, his lips barely touching yours as he let out a quiet hum, licking the sugar off his lips as he reopened his eyes. “Delicious” He pressed a small peck to the side of your lips, pulling back to sit up straight.
Heeseung was still holding the lollipop to your lips, only this time he turned the stick so the end was facing towards his chest, the candy facing towards your mouth.
He made a show of opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue as he let a hushed “a” sound leave his lips.
He gave you a small smirk as you followed his command, lips opening wide as you stuck your tongue out the same way. “Good girl” Heeseung cooed at you in a tone that was anything but proud. 
He pushed the candy back in your mouth, using his other hand to close your jaw around it. “You’re so pretty like this, with your dirty lips wrapped around something.” Heeseung quirked an amused eyebrow as you responded to his degrading words with a whine, furrowed eyebrows staring up at him.
“Oh? You don’t look pretty with something in your mouth?” You whined again, eyebrows furrowing even more. Heeseung tilted his head to the side, face pulling up in an unfamiliar way.
 “Lips aren’t dirty” You tried speaking through your closed mouth, words barely recognizable. Heeseung humorlessly chucked at your words, a proud grin settling on his face.
“M’sorry baby, you have the prettiest lips.” Your forehead smoothed as you sunk back down, satisfied with his answer. “Should we show the camera?”
Heeseung leaned over to grab the laptop, his teeth on display as he replayed your reaction in his head. The way your body tensed at his words, eyes widening a fraction and legs jolting. 
“You must think I'm dumb, don’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” You were filled with the same desires as Heeseung, your fantasy of recording each other haunting you every time you have sex. 
“I know my dumb baby too well, there isn’t anything I haven’t already seen.” Heeseung was now watching their reflection on the screen, his desire growing as he watched the way you began pushing against him. 
“Is my baby getting needy?” Through the screen he watched as you rapidly nodded, teeth still pressing down on the lollipop. “Good, let’s show the camera how pretty your lips are first.”
Heeseung brought the laptop up between the two of you, holding it near your chest as he stared down at you, “hold it.” 
With the laptop held securely in your hands, Heeseung turned his attention back to your candy. This time, he opened your mouth in a different way. 
He pushed down on the lollipop, forcing your mouth to open due to the pressure. He slowly slid it out from your mouth, his mouth salivating as the sweet scent reached his nose. 
The camera got a close-up of the way a small string of saliva connected from your mouth to the candy, caught the way it disappeared as Heeseung’s head swooped in from over the laptop as pressed against yours.
Filthy sounds filled the room, your messy kiss being caught from a lowered angle. Though many might now think the angle would be ideal, it was nothing less than perfect.
It perfectly captured the way Heeseung’s tongue wrapped around yours, the way your head chased after his as he pulled back to change angles. 
It caught everything, including your pretty moans. 
Heeseung carelessly tossed the lollipop behind him, the table close enough for it to land on without having to look. He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, his hands pressing down on your curves.
“Wait, let me fix the camera” You stuttered mid-sentence, mouth refusing to leave his as you placed the laptop on the couch beside the two of you, everything above your knees visible. 
Heeseung slid his hands under your shift, sliding it up and over your head in a vast movement, disconnecting your lips for no more than five seconds before pressing against you again.
His hands squeezed at your skin, his hands coming up to grope at you.
Your head tilted back with a loud moan as he disconnected your lips to kiss the exposed skin at the top of your bra, his hands pushing your tits up as he sucked dark marks onto your skin.
He acted like a man who’d never seen a pair of breasts before, ravaging them like a starved man. He moved lower down your legs as he undid your bra, kissing and sucking spots along his path until he reached your pants. 
Heeseung slid off the couch, slotting himself between your open legs as he bit along your lower stomach, kissing your stretch marks as he appreciated your entire body. 
“My girl is so pretty, the prettiest girl in the world.” He mumbled out, sounding drunk off your skin. “So so pretty” He repeated over and over as he placed more and more kisses.
He slid his hands back down towards your legs, fingers wrapping around your waistline before he looked up at you, eyes hooded as he waited for your consent. 
At your nod, Heeseung quickly undid your pants, pulling them down and off your legs. Your panties quickly followed, getting tossed across the room in a random pile that would soon be joined by his clothes. 
Due to the shift of weight, the laptop toppled over to the side, landing in the perfect view of Heeseung between your legs. It was a sight worth millions, the sight of a man who was actually willing to sacrifice anything to get a taste of pussy. 
Heeseung pulled your legs over his shoulder, using his hands to pull your body closer to his face. His eyes closed with a loud hum, the familiar smell enveloping his senses in the most pleasurable way possible.
“You smell so good, I love you so much” Heeseung spoke once before placing a small kiss against your folds, one of his hands coming up to spread you for him.
He gave your inner thigh one last kiss before he leaned in, his lips wrapping around your clit as his vibrations caused mass pleasure to wring out across your body. 
Your back arched as his tongue circled you, your sensitive nerves reacting to his loving movements. Heeseung always started slow, paying attention to your most pleasurable parts as he submerged himself into you.
His tongue was now replaced with his thumb, fast circled getting rubbed against you as he stuck his tongue flat against your opening, slowly curling it as he collected whatever juices he could. 
A mixture of his spit and your arousal was nothing more than his wettest dreams, the taste automatically beating the one of the sugary lollipops. He could happily drown within you, the only way he’d ever want to go. 
After a few minutes of prolonging your orgasm, he finally decided to finish it off, bringing you to your most craved high. 
He pushed his fingers into you, his tongue replacing the spot his thumb was moments prior. As good as Heeseung’s fingers felt, nothing compared to his tongue.
It felt like magic, the way he was able to make you feel so much in such a short amount of time. Your back arched as your legs quivered around his head, thighs tightening around his head as your heels dug into his clothes back. 
Broken moans left your lips, the sound rising the more you felt the waves coming up. Heeseung felt it too, the way you clenched around his fingers while your hips began rocking against your face.
He used the hand that was wrapped around one of your tights to go up and press against your lower stomach, pushing on it as your high washed over you. 
Loud slurps and moans filled the room, your breath caught in your throat as your back arched as far as it could. Heeseung felt you through it, both his fingers and to continue moving unrelentingly.
“Too much.” You gently shinned, legs still shaking as Heeseung licked you clean. He hummed against you, removing his fingers as he finished off, “I know baby, I know.”
Heeseung sat back up, one of his hands grabbing at the bottom of his shit to pull it off his head. You watched through tired eyes as your boyfriend palmed himself through his pants, head tilting forwards as his eyes stayed glued to your face.
It was a habit that Heeseung couldn’t seem to shake, the action starting when your relationship first started. You used to get shy after Heeseung ate you out, cheeks heating up as you tried hiding yourself.
Obviously, you weren’t shy anymore, the hundreds of minutes he’d spent between your legs long swishing that shyness. 
While you were calming down and preparing yourself again, Heeseung busied himself with getting undressed. He removed each article of clothing, throwing them roughly in the same direction as yours. 
The sight of your boyfriend bare before your eyes caused your body to light up with electricity once again, legs tingling as you obsessed with the way his cock twitched at your watchful eyes.
Heeseung leaned down to grab the laptop, placing it on the table that it was on, to begin with, one that gave it the sight of the entire couch. 
You changed positions, turning your back towards the roof as you crawled towards one side of the couch, arching your back for your boyfriend as you playfully looked over your shoulder at him. 
“I’m not going to fuck myself.” You fluttered your eyelashes, arousal growing as Heeseung playfully snickered at you in disbelief. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you so good.”
He kneels on the couch behind you, hands spreading your ass as he pushes himself to glide between your lips. He coated himself with your wetness before sinking into you, bottoming out as you pushed yourself back into him. 
His nails dug into your love handles, grabbing them for stability as he pushed himself into you. His head fell back as he felt himself continuously bottom out.
It was rare that you went without a condom, and there was no better feeling than the friction of your bare skin rubbing together. 
“Fuck, you feel so good.” A loud pitch moan left your lips in response, a little more dramatic due to the camera recording you. 
Heeseung could feel himself losing control, the warm feeling of being inside of you chasing his hips to push into you harder. 
Quiet swears left his lips as he found his constant pace, hips hitting against yours as he leaned over your back, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your hands. 
He pushed your hands down against the couch, his new angle allowing him to get more depth. 
“Please, I want to cum whilst riding you.” Heeseung swore one last time before pulling out, flipping your position as he leaned his back against the back of the couch. 
Your feet pressed against his legs, hips raised as you used your hand to place his dick against you. You circled his tip around your entrance one time before you sunk onto him, hand moving down to play with his balls as you bounced up and down. 
Heeseung threw his head back, eyes narrowing to slits as his pleasure weighed down his body. One of his hands rubbed up your body, grabbing your chest as the other squeezed the soft skin of your waist. 
He turned his attention toward the area where the two of you were connected, his mouth drying as he watched a ring of white froth form at his base. 
His abdominal muscles contracted as he trusted his hips forward, louder clapping filling the room as he changed the tempo. 
There was a moment where both of your eyes met, the primal desire mirroring back through your own reflections. Heeseung gave you a small smirk, one side of his mouth quirking up.
He winked at you once before he grabbed your hand, his fingers wrapping around the entirety of yours as he brought it to grab his neck.
“Use me” You tightened your hand around his neck at his suddenly sultry whisper, knees burning as you dropped against him harder. 
You bent forward, chest bumping against him as you used your hands to tilt his head back, his hair falling back to reveal his damp forehead. 
You pressed your tongue against the top of his sternum, licking a strip up until your nose touched his earlobe, teeth replacing its spot as you bit down on him.
His back arched beneath you, small sounds leaving his lips as you marked him. You treated his neck the same way you had the lollipop, using him the way he liked. 
“You feel so good.” Heeseung breathlessly praised you, his voice coming out higher than usual. It was easy to tell when Heeseung was getting close, the way he started touching your body more. 
Even with Heeseung under you, he always made sure you came undone first. The way your pleasure contoured your body caused his own long-awaited high to multiply tens fold. 
Though the feeling of his skin against yours caused a euphoric sensation to ring out across your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him a little more.
You halted your body, palms pushing down on your boyfriend's hips to stop his constant buckling.
“I want to make you feel good before.” You rose higher on your knees, only his tip remaining in as you shot him your best attempt of an innocent smile.
Heeseung tried not to let your words affect him, the pleasure that faded with the lack of stimulation returning at the thought of your lips wrapping around him.
“I much prefer you over the lollipop, nothing compares to the way you fill me.” 
Heeseung let out a shaky breath as his left leg began to shake, arms flexing as he fisted the cushions under him. “Fuck, do whatever you’d like, I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”
You removed him from you completely, your palm reaching up towards his lips as you looked at him with an expected gaze. Heeseung puckered his lips out, a sizable drop of spit landing between the crevices of your fingers. 
“That’s not enough.” You clicked your tongue at him, faux disapproval seeping out through your lips as you pulled your hand away from him. “You’re lucky I'm still wet, I'll just have to do it myself.”
You reached down, fingers collecting your wetness before you wrapped your hand back around him. Heeseung’s mouth fell open as you placed a small kiss against the base of his shaft, a trail of kisses following your hand as you slowly moved it up.
A sudden whimper left his mouth as you hollowed your cheeks around him, the suction perfectly squeezing around him. 
His sounds only rose as you added your tongue, the soft muscle tracing along his prominent vein. He almost forgot about the laptop, a small red light reminding him of the almost hour-long video. 
He stared directly into the camera, maximizing his expressions knowing that sooner or later, you’d be watching this back. He knew what got you off, what he could do to make you feel as good as possible. 
It was completely mutual, your knowledge of his body aiding in drawing out a loud, genuine, sound from his pretty lips. 
His back lifted from the couch, body flinching as your finger pressed against his perineum, sharp shocks of pleasure shooting across his body.
His breath caught in his chest as his hand shot out to grab your head, your hair fisting in his hands as he pushed you down further.
He didn’t stop, not even after hearing your choking sounds. As said before, he knew exactly what you liked.
 He wasn’t the only one who enjoyed being choked, you just experienced it differently. 
You continued stimulating his prostate through his perineum, spit dribbling down from the corners of your lips as you drew him closer to his orgasm.
He barely warned you before letting go in your mouth, the only telltale being the trembling of his legs. 
You tried your best to swallow everything he gave you, his familiar salty taste replacing the coating of sweetness in your throat. 
You pulled back, tongue peaking out to lap at the drops you had missed before, cleaning him from your shared mess. 
Heeseung panted from above you, his eyes closed as his heart pounded loudly in his chest. He felt the way you raised from your knees, your hand wrapping around his jaw as you pulled him in for a messy kiss.
The taste of himself no longer caused any reaction, he’d long gotten used to tasting himself on your tongue after you’d gone down on him.
“You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” Heeseung said completely seriously, masking the truth behind his words with a joking tone. 
“That’s just the way I like it.” You replied back, scooting back to rest your head against the arm of the couch, legs spreading for your boyfriend to get a good view of what you were going to do next. 
“I’m ready when you are, show me how good you can treat me.” You never looked away from his eyes as you pressed your finger down against your clit, basking in the way his cock twitched at you.
“Or are you too tired?” Heeseung rolled his eyes at you, his body moving to hover over yours as he pushed himself between your legs.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You returned his wolfish grin, hand leaving your body to grab his waist, pulling his hips against yours. 
“Show me.”
2K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months
Text
fixation
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words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, reader has an oral fixation
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @dream-pink
“baby i’m running out to the store real quick, do you want anything?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he walks through the living room where you’ve been for the past hour, book splayed open in your lap.
“a sucker please? cherry or strawberry preferably.” you answer, only half paying attention to your boyfriend as your eyes continue to skim over the text.
“sure thing baby.” rafe says, tucking his wallet into his back pocket before heading out.
time flies as you get engrossed in your book, barely feeling like you’re reading and more that you’re inside of the book, part of the story.
“i didn’t know which kind, so i kinda got a bunch.” rafes voice makes you jump, not even realizing that he had returned from the store as he dumps a bag of suckers on the couch cushion next to you. your eyes widen at the 10 different kinds he brought back for you. you eye the group and then pick out your favorite, but really you didn’t dislike any of them.
“thank you rafey.” you hum, accepting his kiss when he leans down and presses one to your lips.
“i’m gonna head to the gym out back, since you’re still reading. you need anything else?” rafe asks, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek. you’re so unlike any other girl he has gone for in the past, but it’s why he loves you so much. you are smart, but so innocent when it comes to certain things and he loves to teach you and bring out your wilder side.
“i’m good, thank you.” you say again, pressing another kiss to his lips before rafe is out the back door. you’re surprised how quiet tanneyhill is today, but you’ve learned for the most part that all the members of the cameron family spend their days elsewhere, with eloise and sarah still in school, and ward and rose working most of the day away.
you unwrap your sucker before returning your attention to the book, feeling so much calmer now that you have something in your mouth. you reach the climax of the book, fingers rapidly turning the page until you get to the resolution, and then ultimately the end of the book.
you take a deep breath, letting in all that air you were holding from when the dramatic scenes were unfolding before setting the book onto the coffee table. you turn to pick up another sucker before realizing that you had subconsciously kept getting more, and you now only had one left, the rest reduced to white sticks.
you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment even though no one is around, cleaning up your mess quickly but still unwrapping the sucker and sticking it in your mouth. you are just about to head out the gym, converted with weight machines and mirrors from a shed in the backyard, when rafe reenters.
“finished your book?” rafe asks, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.
“mhm.” you nod. “it was really good, i’m gonna rate it 4 stars on storygraph later.” 
“glad you liked it baby.” rafe comes up and kisses your cheek, considering your mouth is still occupied by the cherry sucker. “if you want to put the rest of the suckers in the candy cabinet, you can.” rafe says, referring to the one cabinet in the cameron home stocked full with junk food, from chocolate to greasy chips.
“i- um…” you trail off before pressing your lips together.
“what?” rafe asks, a slight smile on his lips, loving when you get flustered like this.
“i kinda ate them all. i didn’t even realize i just kept sucking.” you shrug, averting your gaze from rafe, so you miss the smirk that comes to his face.
--
“does anyone want any gum?” kelce asks, opening up the package and taking a piece for himself.
“oh my god, me!” you say, reaching out when kelce offers one to you, a slight look of confusion on the desperation in your voice as you stick the minty gum into your mouth and begin to chew. 
“i’ve been going crazy not having something in my mouth.” you say, turning your attention to rafe as kelce refocuses on the game. you’re not the biggest basketball fan, you find it entertaining enough to always agree when rafes asks you if you want to come with him and the boys, but you don’t understand most of the calls the refs make and the loud screaming from the crowd hurts your ears.
“you’re so precious, baby.” rafe says, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, leaving you to scrunch your eyebrows together, not sure what you did to gain that reaction but certainly not complaining.
you crunch the gum between your teeth, much happier now that you can focus on that and drown out some of the noise as you lean into rafe, his arm moving to be placed securely around your shoulders, up until the game comes down to a final shot, whipped from halfcourt towards the basket as the timer counts down, the ball ultimately swishing through the rim, making the entire crowd jump to their feet as the team gets the buzzer beater.
“that was exciting!” you tell rafe as you head out of the building, your hand encapsulated in his. “thanks for letting me along on boys night.” you call to topper and kelce.
“happy to have you.” topper says with a friendly smile, making rafe tighten his grip on your hand slightly.
--
“do we have any popsicles?” you ask, fanning your face with your hand, the bright sun beating down on the boat.
“yeah, should be in the cooler in back.” rafe says, gesturing towards the back of the yacht as he continues to steer the boat to the place he wants to anchor for the day to fish.
“mmkay thanks.” you say, getting up off the captains bench, where you always sat with rafe so he could keep a close eye on you while he also paid attention to the water in front of him. “you want one?” “nah, thanks though baby.” rafe glances away for a moment to look at you, his eyes soft. “hurry back though.” you smile, knowing he’s only being so strict with you because he loves you. you rush to the back of the boat, digging into the cooler for a red popsicle before returning to take your place next to rafe.
“are you too hot? you should drink water too.” rafe says, placing one hand on your thigh while he steers the boat with the other.
“nah, just wanted something cool in my mouth.” you say, too focused on the sun glimmering off the water in front of you to notice that rafe has to readjust himself in his shorts.
“gonna try this spot first.” rafe says, slowing the boat to a stop. you get up and move to where you know he’s going to fish from. you used to offer to help anchor, but you know rafe would never let you get your hands dirty.
“are you good princess?” rafe asks once everything is done, fishing pole and tackle box in hand.
“all good.” you nod, already having gotten a second popsicle from the cooler.
--
“what is it?” rafe asks.
“huh?” you question, taking your thumb out of your mouth that you didn’t even realize you were sucking on until rafe spoke up.
“you keep sucking on your fingers and you’ve got that look in your eyes. are you nervous for something, doll?” rafe asks, his voice soft and genuine.
“midsummers.” you pout, making rafe tilt his head to the side. he’s such a confident man, especially in social situations. he’s charming and outgoing, meanwhile you prefer to keep to yourself and watch things from afar, but it’s impossible with rafe, he’s always the center of attention in any room, like all the lights shine on him.
“i’m gonna be with you the whole time.” rafe says, not even having to ask why you’d be nervous for the big party.
“i know, i still hate the idea of all those eyes on me.” you shudder, sticking your thumb back into your mouth to provide some comfort.
“if you need to leave, we can leave after making an appearance.” rafe says, knowing he’d get shit for not sticking around longer, but he doesn’t care, you come first, always.
“thanks rafey.” you say, slightly muffled by your thumb in your mouth.
“i love you, baby.” rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your jaw before pulling you onto his lap, letting you relax against him, eyes fluttering close as the sucking on your thumb eventually slows as you fall to sleep curled up in his arms.
--
“can we stop and get some gum? or a sucker?” you ask rafe, hands nervously twitching in your lap.
“baby, we are on a tight schedule we can’t be making stops for candy.” rafe says with a sigh, wishing he could accommodate you, but he knew he’d be in a rush ever since he stayed in bed this morning for an extra fifteen minutes to cuddle and kiss you.
“barry is late all the time, i don’t even know why you have to be on time to meet him.” you complain.
“don’t be a brat.” rafe says, already stressed out. sure, barry is often late, but rafe has different expectations of himself, and if he says he’s going to meet barry at a certain time, you can be damn sure that he will be there on time, if not five minutes early.
you cross your arms over your chest, not bothering to hide your annoyance from your boyfriend.
“here, you just wanna suck on something, go ahead and suck on my finger.” rafe says, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while he shoves his finger towards your mouth.
you would say no, but that really is all you want, so you pull your knees up to your chest and rest rafes wrist against your knees, sticking his finger into your mouth, moaning slightly around it at the pure relief of having something to focus on while rafe speeds down the backroads.
you suck on his finger, swirl your tongue around it, even gently press your teeth down on it, all while rafe sits there, cock swelling in his jeans while he wishes it to stay down, not needing to greet barry with a hard on, especially when you’re so blissfully unaware of the effect your mouth is having on him.
“alright we are almost there.” rafe says, making you whine when he takes his hand away, again reaching down to adjust his crotch, not sure how much longer he can put up with this.
--
“can we go to the store and buy a sucker? or maybe get some ice cream?” you ask, hands pawing at rafes chest as you lay in bed.
“come on, i just wanna stay here all day.” rafe says with a yawn. you were both up late partying, but you were getting bored of just sitting in bed all day, even if you do like being pressed up against your boyfriend.
“give me your fingers again then.” you reach out for his hand, but rafe snatches it away.
“i have something else you can suck on.” rafe says, making your head quirk to the side, inquisitive.
“you trust me, right?” rafe says, which you of course eagerly nod to. you trust rafe more than anyone else, so when he raises his hips and lowers his sweatpants down his legs before kicking them off to the floor, you don’t feel the same nervousness that you usually do.
“you want me to… give you head?” you swallow thickly. “i told you i’ve never done it before.” you’ve had sex with rafe before, but the focus was always on you, how he could bring your body to pleasure, how he fit inside of you.
“i know, but you’re always wanting to suck on something.” rafe shrugs. “might as well suck on my dick. besides, i’ll teach you.”
“o-okay.” you nod, eyes flicking between meeting rafes gaze and his length, clearly obvious and straining against the fabric of his underwear.
“now, i’m already hard just because i always am being around you, but why don’t you explore a bit with your mouth over my underwear, hm?” rafe says. you nod, figuring the best thing to do if you felt nervous was following his directions, afterall, he hasn’t led you astray in the past.
you slide down the bed until you’re laid on your stomach between his legs. you start with kisses around his underwear, before planting one on his length, kissing down the shaft until you reach where you presume his head is. you flick your tongue out, giving an experimental lick that makes rafe moan, so you double down on your effort, pushing your tongue against the fabric, creating a wet spot.
“that-that feels really good.” rafe says, his voice so breathless, causing you to look up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust.
you take matters into your own hand upon seeing how turned on you’re making him. you always let him finger you, or eat you out, or fuck you to orgasm, but you’ve never done the same to him in return, mostly because you are inexperienced. so, you pull his underwear down suddenly, allowing his cock to spring up.
you don’t give yourself any time to feel insecure as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, making rafe curse and bring a hand down to grip your hair, but he doesn’t shove you down, knowing you’re not ready for that and will move at your own pace.
you rub your tongue against him, surprised by how much you like the taste as you try to move your mouth down some, to take more of him. you succeed for the most part until you have to pull off to take a breath.
“baby, when i cum you can pull off that way it doesn’t go all in your mouth.” rafe says, wanting to warn you now before he gets too wrapped up in the feeling of your warm tongue to forget his words.
“and what if i want you all in my mouth?” you question, sinking your lips around him again, trying to go deeper again before you start to suck, having had lots of practice with your suckers and popsicles. you may have never given head before, but you know to keep your teeth away from his sensitive skin, so you hope that means you’re doing a good job.
“breathe thr-fuck. breathe through your nose, baby, it’ll help.” rafe says, reminding you. you give a hum around his length in acknowledgement, making rafe let out another curse.
you try it again, sucking and then humming, sucking and then humming, and clearly from the look on rafes face, he likes the vibrations on his cock. 
you pull off after a minutes, licking around the base of his cock and slowly moving up, wanting to taste every inch of him. you get back to the head and notice he’s leaking slightly out of his tip, which you quickly dart up with your tongue, making rafes hips raise up, pushing his cock against your tongue.
“you’re so fucking good at this.” rafe moans, one hand still gripping your hair while the other is fisted in the bedsheets, trying his best to hold back from shoving your head down onto his cock and fucking your mouth.
“i’ve got lots of practice with sucking things.” you giggle before taking him into your mouth again, bobbing your head as you suck, flicking your tongue over his head every time you pull back.
you decide again to try to take more of him into his mouth now that you’ve gotten more comfortable, but you swear rafe has swelled as you can’t take nearly as much as before.
“baby-i-close-i-” rafe stutters out, pushing your lips further, causing his cock to push into your throat as he releases to your tongue softly licking his length even you gag.
you feel rafe release, thick ropes of cum lining your insides as you swallow down repeatedly until he’s dry, completely milked free of cum. you pull off with a cough, rafes hands dropping limply to his sides.
“god, your mouth is amazing.” rafe moans.
you smile at the praise, glowing under his words. you look to the cock in front of you, now softening against his thigh.
“can we do that again?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.
“absolutely.” rafe nods. “once i recover. why don’t we get you a sucker until i can get hard again?”
2K notes · View notes
pascals-doll · 7 months
Text
candy
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ellie williams x reader
🫧 happy valentines day to all my beautiful followers | enjoy this vday special 🩷 am i uploading this ar midnight because a bitch had classes and work yes but its valentines (was technically) IM GGONNA WRITE AN ELLIE FIC 🧘‍♀️
🫧 inspired by the song candy by doja cat | bed of roses PT2
🫧 description: fluffy, cute surprises, reader knows how to know paint a bit, just fluff, cute fluff,ellie sings to you (i took the scene from the game because i cherish it sm) smut, SLUT SMUT💋, power dynamic, dom!ellie, sub!reader, you and ellie live together, reader is PUSSYHUNGRY (mmm im so- i would do anything for that tsunami), reader eats out ellie on stairs (you’re welcome), fingering, praises, no use of y/n, use of petnames like doll, mama, and good girl, very little degradation, hair pulling, clit sucking, face grinding, cum eating, just ellie getting eaten so good! enjoy
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She's just like candy, she's so sweet
but you know that it ain't real cherry
know that it ain't real cherry
🫧
it was valetines day today which meant ellie got to spoil you rotten; it is very well- deserved.
you would always be very thoughtful with your gifts.
this valentines day, you sneakily woke up around 1 AM and worked until dawn on customizing a wooden workstation that you got her for her artwork.
you knew you had work in the morning but you would do anything for the woman who’s protected you, provided for you, and pleased you.
you painted the workstation very carefully a dark earth-green. you let each coat of paint dry before beginning to carefully paint details on it.
you were going to paint symbols for each of her favorite memories onto it. you took references from her own beautiful drawings.
one of the details you painted were the beginning of Joel’s; now her guitar, painting even the moth.
one of the guitar strings then ran around the whole work-station, dragging the brush till the end.
you began to draw small moths and different flowers with herbs carefully placing them along the string line.
lastly, finishing it up by drawing a silhouette of the both of your bodies intertwined, then painting an outline of ellie’s knife and joel’s gun side by side on the side of her workbench.
once you were done, you carved both of your initials into the side of the workbench.
you transfered all of her essentials from the small broken down drawers; that could barely hold up to her made with so much love customized workstation.
you made your way back into your shared warm bed, careful not to wake up ellie.
sunrise made its way into the sky, ellie waking up now as you now slept.
ellie noticed you got up in the middle of the night, searching for your warmth but she shrugged it off before knocking into slumber again.
ellie got up very quietly, planting a kiss on your head before heading into her work room to get her guitar.
she walked into her art room, stepping as she scans the room. she immediately stopped in her steps, her eyes falling onto your beautiful workstation.
ellie’s heart pounds outside of her chest, tears wanting to form in her hazel eyes as a rush of emotions take over her.
she walks around the small wooden dark-green station, her handing brushing it softly as she takes in your designs.
she couldnt help but think about although you had work sadly on valetines day, you still did this for her.
this was bigger than the world to ellie.
you were the most perfect girl and if one thing was for certain, ellie would be spending an eternity of valetine’s day with you.
🫧
I can be your sugar when you're fiendin' for that sweet spot
Put me in your mouth, baby, and eat it 'til your teeth rot
I can be your cherry, apple, pecan,
or your key lime
Baby, I got everything and so much more than she's got
you were now currently at work, you hated how you got called in today.
you asked ellie if she was going to be good with you going to work today, in which she responded by pulling down your panties.
lets just say, you had a very pleasant morning before going into work.
while you were away at work, ellie got to work on her surprise because eating your cum for breakfast wasn’t enough.
she went to almost all the floral shops she could, selling them out of their pink and red roses.
ellie covered the entryway with petals, even the staircase that leads upstairs, and leading all the way up into your room.
the living room, she had a fairy lights hung along with pink lit candles on the ground.
ellie had a huge case of flowers waiting for you, wrapped in the arrangement of your inital.
that was only the downstairs, your room was filled with more surprises.
your shared bed was covered in rose petals, a couple small gifts waiting for you while your surprise gift was tucked away by ellie.
ellie finished up any last miniute preparations before you came home from work.
she changed from her pj shirt and boyshorts from this morning to a flannel with a black-tee and some baggy shorts that exposed her Calvin Klein lining.
She's just like candy, she's so sweet
But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry
She's just like candy, she's so sweet (She's so sweet)
But you know that it ain't real, know that it ain't real
🫧
you came home a bit exhausted but excited because you picked up a teddy bear that held a heart with the writing “i love u” on it from a street vendor, leaving your job.
once you made it home, beginning to turn the keys to step through your front door.
you open the door to see your beautiful auburn-hair girlfriend.
she was sitting there on your shared loveseat, her beautiful fingers strumming her guitar.
the melodious tone from the strums of her guitar strumming the song your love for each other shares.
she began to sing softly “talking away” your hand cant help but go ovee your mouth as you felt tears begin to form.
the sound of her silky voice singing through your ears, making your heart pound and face hot.
“today’s another day to find you”
you could listen to ellie sing for the rest of your life, tears were already streaming down your face. ellie couldn’t look you in the eyes while she sang because if she did, she wouldn’t be able to finish.
you made her heart go a million miles per minute like a schoolgirl crush.
you made her stomach flutter like she was born with a butterfly nest inside her.
you made her soul shine like the sun after never-ending rain.
ellie finished serenating you, putting her guitar down
she finally looked up at you, clutching a teddy bear with tears streaming down your face.
before ellie could say anything, you ran into her arms; immediately taking you in to her embrace.
this was a feeling words couldn’t express, but only actions.
your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest with the clash of ellie’s lips onto yours.
you weren’t alone with ellie barely being able to catch her breath but so desperate for you.
the way your lips moved with such hasty movement but yet still passionately and amorously.
you began to walk towards the staircase, lips not leaving a moment. your eyes slightly opening time to time to make sure you were guiding you and ellie correctly.
“all i wanted-“ you began but were interrupted by her lips again.
“all day was to” ellie pulled away momentarily to let you continue.
“come home to this” you whined out against her lips, your tongue slightly licking over them.
🫧
Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper
It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper
Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper
It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper
you were fillied with arousal and need to please as you dropped to your knees…on the staircase. you could careless at this given moment.
your hands ran through her back, feeling each crevess of each toned muscle, then coming back around to her arms.
you gave her strong-toned arms a soft squeeze before having them go up to her chest. you needed to have her.
“doll i got a surprise in the room, lets-” ellie begins but you didn’t care.
“no” you said, looking her in the eyes as you unzip and unbutton her shorts “right here, right now” you whine out, pulling down ellie shorts completely.
ellie would be lying if she said you dying to eat her out on each other’s staircase wasn’t the hottest thing, especially on fucking valentine’s day.
it was you, how could she deny you.
“that desperate, mama?” she teases you as you peck her toned abdomen. you gave her a slight whimper as you nod.
she brings herself down to sit on the stairs, grabbing you by your jaw to pull you in for a kiss.
your lips meet again, your hand traveling down into her boxers immediately feeling seeping slick cunt “you drive me insane” you moan out, your mind was so drunk by her.
she had you high on her scent, taste, look, and touch. anything ellie did could have you on your knees, just like this.
your fingers begin to rub her clit in circular motion causing her breathing to hitch and soft moans of content escape her mouth as your lips travel down to her neck.
you begin to suck on the skin as your fingers massaged her clit, slightly putting pressure here and there causing ellie to let out gentle-yet-loud groan.
ellie’s hips began to rise to meet your hand “my beautiful doll-s’good f’me” she mumbled under her breathy moans.
you were sure you left her a purpletrail from her neck leading into her shoulder before going down a couple more steps.
you waste no time in pulling off her boxers, meeting with her wet pussy “s’pretty els, i love you.” you were just completely dazed by ellie at this point, wanting to please her and have her taste on you for days.
“you gonna drool or eat up, doll?” ellie smirks, she knew the effect she had on you and it made you fiend to please her even more.
your hands go to spread her thighs open a bit more before diving your head in between her legs. you met face to face with her juiced pussy, her slick coating your tongue as you lick a stripe.
“ah fuck, doll!” ellie moans out, her hips slightly bucking against your face as her hand had a grip on your hair.
the way you were on your knees on these steps buried into ellie’s pussy, your tongue collects her juices as you begin to swirl your tongue around her clit sucking softly.
she tasted just like candy, you grab her one of her thighs, hooking it up to balance on your shoulder.
the wider angle made her throw her head back “s’fuck doll! just like that. eat it just like that.” her vile voice praising the way you took the way she slopped her pussy against your tongue.
ellie began to work herself towards her orgasm on your tongue, her hand following the movement of your head.
you ate her out like this was your last meal, not wanting to let a single drop “god fuck-y-you’re insane!” she whined out as you worked you fucked her with yout tongue.
ellies stomach stomach flexes, her toned abdomen becoming more prominent as her breathy moans turn into pants and loud gutteral moans as you took your free hand; licking her asshole all the way up to her clit.
“fuck fuck fuck, doll! s’such a good girl” ellie’s hand swore she could’ve pulled your hair our by now but you could careless, the only thing on your mind was making this woman cum.
she deserved the way you ate her with delight, completely letting her use your face for her orgasm.
your nails dig into her thigh as you feel yourself slowly loosing your breath; but you were not leaving till she had came all over your face.
“s’close god! youre such a fuckin’ slut f’me.” her orgasm finally riding out.
“atta girl, lick it all up again.” she praises, pulling you back up from her pussy to her lips, tasting herself momentarily before her hand finds the back of your head guiding you to the white cum-beed that seaped out of her now fucked-out hole.
you licked her from asshole up, completely picking up her cum onto the tip on tongue causing you moan out as your lips were wrapped around her.
once you pulled away meeting her eyes, her cum covering your lips causing your face to glisten lightly.
“you’re a demon” ellie brings you into her embrace on the stairs.
“its not my fault you’re my favorite candy”
🫧
She's just like candy, she's so sweet
But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry
She's just like candy, she's so sweet
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a/n > part 2 ??? 😇
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bamboospirit · 2 months
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Finally caught up with all the anime I wanted to watch the last two years, and this scene screamed secretly dating JiuYuan to me.
When SJ starts interrupting SY and Binghe more and more, as well as scolding Binghe for taking up so much of SY's time, Binge finally figures out the reason why! (Narrator voice: He does not.)
Also big thanks to ohshc for giving me the perfect rose background
(This scene is from the anime cherry magic)
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"Yes, it's true: I was the type of young femme who managed the girls basketball team in high school, just to be able to take in the sight of all those butches parading their muscles up and down the court. I found Girl Scout camp to be femme heaven and reveled in being able to explore my athletic self and still maintain my femmeness. And, to my horror, I have to admit pushing Tina away from my breasts in the back seat of a Buick while attending Mount Saint Mary Seminary. And then there was feminism... Although I came out as a "gay" woman before reading The Feminine Mystique, the seventies brand of white feminism had me trimming my nails and cutting off my hair. Soon I was outfitted in farmer jeans and high tops. And still I was told by my "sisters" that I didn't "look like a dyke" (read: I didn't look butch). I began to lead two lives- one as an outrageous, skirted, lipsticked femme while I worked in and traveled with carnivals, and another as an imitation butch back home in the women's community. Eventually, I pulled the pieces of my being back together and proclaimed boldly, "I am a working-class lesbian femme." So I had maybe six years reveling in unleashing my seductive femme self when, as lives go, mine changed: slowly at first and then more dramatically. Recurring back pain and limited range of mobility were finally diagnosed. Soon after came decreased mobility. No more mountain climbing. No long mall walks in search of the perfect piece of sleaze. No more standing against kitchen walls being gloriously fucked by some handsome butch. I stopped using alcohol and drugs, became ill with what is now known as CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome), and began to use a three-wheeled power chair. The more disabled I became, the more I mourned the ways my sexual femme self had manifested through the nondisabled me: cruising at the local lezzie bar, picking up a dyke whose eyes refuse to stray from mine, dancing seductively, moving all of me for all of her. Cooking: love and suggestion neatly tucked into the folds of a broccoli quiche. Serving my date in varying, sleazy clothing, removing layers as the meal and our passion progressed. And making love... feeling only pleasure as my hips rose and fell under the weight of her. Accomplishment and pride smirked across my face as her wrists finally submitted to the pressure of strong persistent hands. There are the ways I knew to be femme, to be the essence of me.
It's been five years now since I began using my wheelchair. I am just awakening to a new reclamation of femme. Yes. I still grieve the way I was, am still often unsure how this femme with disabilities will act out her seduction scenes. I still marvel when women find passion amidst the chrome and rubber that is now a part of me.
There have been numerous dates, lovers, relationships, sexual partners, and fliterations along the way. Cindy, Jenny, Ellie, Emma, Diane, Dorothy, Gail, June, Clove, Lenny, Cherry, Diana, Sarah I, and Sarah II. You have all reminded me in your own subtle or overt, quit or wild ways that I am desirable, passionate, exciting, wanted.
Yes I am an incredibly sexual being. An outrageous, loud mouthed femme who's learning to dress, dance, cook, and seduce on wheels; finding new ways to be gloriously fucked by handsome butches and aggressive femmes. I hang out with more sexual outlaws now- you know, the motorcycle lesbians who see wheels and chrome between your legs as something exciting, the leather women whose vision of passion and sexuality doesn't exclude fat, disabled me.
Ableism tells us that lesbians with disability are asexual. (When was the last time you dated a dyke who uses a wheelchair?) Fat oppression insists that thin is in and round is repulsive. At times, these voices become very loud, and my femme, she hid quietly amidts the lists.
Now my femme is rising again. The time of doubt, fear, and retreat has passed. I have found my way out of the lies and oppression and have moved into a space of loving and honoring the new femme who has emerged. This lesbian femme with disabilities is wise, wild, wet, and wanting. Watch out.
-"Reclaiming femme... Yet again" Mary Francis Platt, The Persistent Desire (Edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)
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fillinforlater · 1 year
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Just Testing
Male Reader x Wonyoung, Eunbi, Sakura, Yena, Yuri, Chaewon, Nako, Hitomi, Mina, Nayeon, Gaeul, Rei, Sua, Yoohyeon, Jinsoul, Yeojin, Tiffany, Sooyoung, Winter, Sullyoon, Xiaoting, Miyeon, Yiren, Arin, Seungyeon, Hwasa, IU, Chaeryeong, Somi, Rose (31some)
Length: 31,577 words
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FIC STARTS AFTER THE #
FIC IS SPLIT INTO MULTIPLE POSTS
Tags: SQUATTING FACE FUCK + ANAL PRONE BONE, PORN, stupid satire, self-aware smut, seductive, flirting, charming, perfect!you, GAME SHOW, testing mouths, blowjob, sweat, sweat kink, messy sex, sub/dom dynamics, sex in water, double anal (@kaedespicelatte), female orgasms, rough sex, overstimulation, stocking and high heels kink, gaping, terrible jokes, teasing, gagging, breath play, banter, fuck buddies, weird relationship, sex on the ground, temperature play, petite body, hard anal, sex toys, vibrator for overstimulation, elegance, keeping warm, huge tits, tit play, TW: golden shower, water sports, piss kink, couch sex, size kink, dom!idol, edging, threatening, heavy jerking off, blue balled, TW: brat, brat taming, forced deepthroat, cursing, undressing, name calling, degradation, dub-con?, GAME-SHOW-CEPTION, outside sex, public sex, getting caught, rent is due, sex sells, scent kink, slow sex, caring anal, rough face fucking, slut, runny mascara kink, choking, fingering, porn tropes, sex while watching porn, screams, fucking into submission, suddenly missionary, bimbofication, blonde bimbo kink, are you on drugs?, cumshot, cum on tits, cockwarming, sex doll, lube, lube play, fighting, brat breaking, a lot of lube fr, first time, teaching, slow bj, hot and steamy, body worship, abs kink, almost loving, suddenly painting, male overstimulation, death by orgasm?, self-degradation, very loud, break everything, food play, cherries, whipped cream, biting sheets, why did you read all of that???
TW: a lack of editing, cringiness lol and this has all the kinks, SPOILER! Scene 7 has watersports, Scene 29 has foodplay, Scene 11 has heavy degradation, Scene 20 bimbofication, but tbh, read at your own risk lol
Inspiration: my hate relationship with porn and the industry behind it. This has a lot of satirical themes, terrible jokes and allusions to other things/media, especially K-Pop lyrics and song titles. This is also kind of a flex and a tribute to the insane amount of hot people we get to see as fans of this music genre.
Also, I'm a bit insane and like the squatting and prone-position a bit too much.
(A/N: Kaede is already tagged, also @worldsover for Arin and Yena, @writerpeach add Xiaoting and Kkura to the list, @sinswithpleasure Winter, @midnightdancingsol for Jinsoul, @iznsfw for Eunbi, Hitomi and Nako, @capslocked for Miyeon, @praeluxius for Sullyoon and Chaewon, @firagaarmor for Gaeul, @authorsquidward for Wonyoung and Yeojin, @craycr4y, @co-reborn for Mina, @nsfwmaemi for Xiaoting. Sorry, not sorry.)
#
“So, this is going to be the first take, right? How many do you usually need?”
The stylist combs your hair with her delicate fingers a final time before deeming it perfect. It literally is, clean, black and utterly unleashed. Whatever the producers think fits best for your personality. The show must go on—something like that, as long as you have any hair, you don’t mind what it looks like. Okay, to be fair, even if they would ask you to go bald, you would. This job is just too precious to pass on.
“Oh, I only need one take, darling,” you say and look at the stylist through the crystalline backlit mirror into her crystalline brown eyes. Something tells you that they are usually not this wide open and shocked, call it an instinct if you will, something to pair with one of your three divine strengths:
Irresistible charme.
“Well… if you say so,” she stutters and tugs a strand of her blonde hair behind her cute little ear. She directs her gaze towards the door, but you know she isn’t thinking about leaving, not with the way her hand rests on your shoulder or her tummy cushions the back of your head when you lean backwards to look at her from a different angle. 
She is quite pretty, with the tiny moles on her bright skin. One could’ve easily mistaken her with one of the many women you’re about to work with, but apparently she has chosen a different career path. Too bad for you, or her, or the camera. Nothing a couple of perfectly placed words couldn’t change.
“I only say it, because it’s true,” you say with a defensive hand gesture and stand up from the confines of your chair, the same, favorite chair that is following you around the world. “Looks like you’re the same, Miss—”
“Sharon, just Sharon,” she finishes your sentence, the pitch of her voice higher than before as she looks up at you. “B-but what do you mean by, ‘the same’?”
“Oh, it’s because your styling is literally perfect. You don’t have to go for a second take either.” Gently take Sharon’s hand into yours and rub the back of it with your thumb. “Just like me.”
“Y-you’re too kind.”
“Now tell me, Sharon: that’s not your real name, right?”
Sharon shyly looks to the ground. The tip of her feet move closer together and you feel a bit of sweat build up on the tip of her fingers. Oh, the professionalism, it’s slipping away.
“You got me there,” she giggles. “My real name is Mina, I’m from—”
“Japan. I can tell. Your accent is giving it away.”
Now she is melting, either in embarrassment or because of the compliments. Judging from the new color on her cheeks, red like fresh strawberries, and the small smile below her beauty spot, it’s the latter. 
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, Mina, your English is fantastic and your accent is, let’s call it as cute as your face.”
Mina looks up, dreamy, her hands automatically move up to your chest, but if she wants to go further she has to really stretch. Thank the Gods for the other divine feature they have given you:
Incredible height.
195 cm, 6’4’’, wow so big; you better know all the ways to measure you. All of it rolls off your tongue so easily although you don’t have to announce it. It’s obvious, imposing even, yet not impractical. At least it wasn’t, until your Asia Tour started. Most things are a bit too small now, but you won’t complain, no, you’re literally not allowed to. Your contract says so.
“Thank you, Mister,” Mina hums and her nails reach your nape when sudden steps behind the door make her back off with lightning speed. Who dares to block such a nice development?
“Okay, change of plans,” shouts JJ, your manager, agent and favorite pest as he bursts into the dressing room. He is drenched in sweat and about as stressed as usual before any one of your shoots. Time to give him your favorite punishment for coming in so rudely.
“Ah, JJ, good to see you. This is Mina, a wonderful, talented japanese stylist,” you say with a bright grin, knowing how much he hates it when you interrupt him with something so casual, yeah, how dare you be nice when he is literally an impetuous bull. 
“Oh, uhm, hello Mrs. Mina,” he stutters, shakes his head, bows, then groans. It’s worth cherishing if you’re honest. “Anyways, we have more important things right now. There have been communication issues and uhm, all of them are here already, so we’ll shoot the scenes ping-pong wise.”
“Hold on, hold on, JJ. You’re saying, all thirty of them are? How could that happen?”
“Well, th-the Koreans thought the second time I sent them was meant as an alternative date, you know, if there are problems or something. Oh, and it’s not thirty. One woman quit at the last minute, she had doubts and a lot of fear.”
“Which is absolutely okay,” you say calmly and look at Mina for a second. She tries to seem occupied, but you know she is staring and listening intently. “If she doesn’t want to, I don’t blame her. We can shoot with twenty-nine and we can shoot them all in one go if we have enough rooms.”
“Yeah,” JJ says with a sigh of relief at your non-violent reaction, which is the norm. “We were able to get some extra rooms. The company really wants this episode and they are willing to make it a two-part special, I was just worried that you couldn’t—”
“What? Handle thirty?” You laugh with a wide charismatic smile, which leaves JJ cold—such a shame that he is completely resistant to you, but it makes him the perfect manager to control if need be—but does a lot of things to Mina. The japanese woman gawks, drools at you from the side. She does not notice that you can see it from the corner of your eye through the backlit mirror. 
“Whatever you say,” JJ groans and rolls his eyes. “It’s still only twenty-nine.”
“Unlees,” you say and turn towards Mina, bowing down to be on eye-level with her. “Someone new joins us right now. Would that be possible, JJ?”
“I mean, s-sure. We have some lawyers, contracts, money—oh, wait, you’re not serious, are you?”
“Mina,” you say with a low voice and guide her hand to your chest. “I won’t lie, I saw the way you were looking at me. You have a great face and from what I can see a fantastic body. Allow me to be so incredibly rude and ask you:
“Do you want to join me in this shoot?”
Mina bites her lips and blushes again. From the touch of her fingers you can tell a lot of things. She is not rejecting the idea completely, so there is no spouse or partner in her life, at least none she is loyal to. Mina also works as a stylist for porn artists, so maybe her social circle won’t be too harsh on her. It’s still a difficult step, one she shouldn’t take lightly.
Then again, you’d really like to fuck her today.
“Can I think about it for a bit longer?” she whispers and you immediately nod, much to the dismay of JJ behind you. However, he remains silent. he ha too many fuck-ups today.
“Sure. Go with JJ and talk with the lawyers. They will make sure you’re properly informed, but in the end it’s up to you. The shoot will take quite long, so you can either join in last or—”
Gently knead her hand on your chest and smile at her adorable, unsure, yet needy expression.
“—live a life outside of this crazy industry. Both things will be worth it, my beautiful penguin.”
“Wha—how did you kn—”
“I can tell,” you whisper with a wink and make way for the door, where JJ gives you a bombastic side eye. You ignore him, which is worth a thousand words, but it’s better to keep them down now. Only a couple of minutes, then it’s showtime.
"Director, is everyone in position?" you ask nonchalantly, as if you didn't just open your shirt and stepped out of your white dress pants. As per usual, you can feel them all stare, staff, cameraman, hosts. It makes for an even better feeling when you peel off your briefs to reveal your manhood, the perfect indicator for your final supernatural power of the Gods:
Undrainable stamina.
You present yourself, fully nude, while your co-host walks onto the set. Unlike you, he is dressed in his marine blue suit with a bow tie and dress pants in the same color. He looks expensive, serious, a true professional, which makes you shake your head.
"Come on, man, you're always so stiff and stuck up! Let's give the people a fun show," you say and kindly grin at him. Works like a magic spell. He drops his shoulders and cocks his head back.
"You're right. It's hard to say some of these lines with a straight face anyways. I just worry…"
He pauses and looks at you, down your pecs, chiseled abs, phallus hanging in between your strong legs, then back up again with a blush.
"Don't worry, man," you calmly respond and point towards a door where JJ discusses something with some important looking people. "My manager fucked up today, yet the company still wants the video. In their eyes, it's all a good product, as long as we just do it. The show must go on, so relax, will ya?"
"I-I guess, b-but thirty is so many," he says in fear and looks at the director signaling the last thirty seconds before shooting starts.
"Thirty is not that much. Count them down like seconds, and I promise you, they'll pass by so quickly, you wish we had another thirty."
"Take one, everyone on set!" someone shouts and you feel the adrenaline reach a new peak. The slate falls, the cameras start. Almost perfect silence, but you swear you can hear the neediness in this building. The company really booked the entire floor of a luxurious hotel, combined with the outdoor area. Don't lie, you've seen crazier, but their efforts are still impressive.
"Hello, dear viewers!" your co-host greets the main camera with an eye smile. "Welcome back to Season 3 of our show. Actually, we are already at the second to last episode of this season."
He pouts. It's kinda cute, so you play along and mouth a little 'aww' at the oh-so sad statement. 
"I'm your co-host and right next to me is the one and only; the one you are watching for and the only one you need to know."
"Hello World! Hello Asia!" you shout enthusiastically, to the main camera, then to the one that is only focussing on you and your most prized possession. Speaking of which, it's slowly getting hard with increased excitement.
"Good to have you here." Your co-host turns to you and peeks at his cue card for longer than usual. This is where the old script is probably falling apart.
"Thank you for having me," you say and do a couple of silly bowes to the staff. The microphone catches all their gasps and laughs. "I'm really excited for today. I heard it's going to be some sort of special."
"You're right about that one. Today is a double special, combo special about, uhm—"
He stutters, panically shuffling through his cue cards without knowing how he even started his sentence. Poor guy, having a blackout right at the start. In an effort to save him, you improvise and reach for his first card.
"Here, it says 'combo special for Just Testing'. Maaaan, just read it," you say in faked annoyance. Part charisma, part professionalism that can save a take and make the viewer smile—if they haven't skipped to their preferred part yet. Your co-host looks at you gratefully, before slapping his forehead and groaning.
“You’re right, of course! ‘Just Testing’ is going for double today, Twice the testing, twice the fun.”
“And twice the work,” you add, much to the bemusement of the director, who constantly gives you thumb ups. “I’m so ready for it. Can you tell me what I am going to test?”
“So,” he points at the large, black loosely hanging curtain behind you. “There is a long hallway with a lot of rooms behind this curtain. With the help of some beautiful support, you will test all kinds of loungers. We have different kinds of beds, couches, but also more unusual things to lay down on.”
“Oh, nice, I’m going to sleep on them? This will be a relaxing episode then.”
You stretch your arms upwards and fake a yawn, before he slaps them away.
“No, you’re here to work. On each lounger there is one woman lying prone. Your job is to test if having sex with them in this position is comfortable. Give your thoughts while making sure to thoroughly test them.”
“The women or the loungers?”
“The loungers, silly!”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. How many loungers are there?”
The co-host hesitates. He nervously looks to your agent, who shrugs, then to the director who shrugs as well but with more urgency. After a brief pause, the co-host acts like he is counting on his fingers. 
“Let’s just say there are a lot,” he finally says. “More than two for sure.”
“More than two?” you respond, cock twitching again, everyone’s pervy eyes notice it. “So why is it called a double-combo-special-episode?”
“Well, we have a different thing you need to test today. On your right, you can find an example. Say hello to Arin!”
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Cheers and applause from a parting crowd of staff members. A woman emerges from them. The first thing you notice are her soft-looking, reddish-pinkish lips. They are a bit plumb, perfect for what is to come. Other than that, she is gorgeous. Pale skin and a yellow-beige crop-top contrast the long, wavy hair flowing down her back and shoulders. 
“Wow, you look wonderful,” you say with a delighted smile and stretch out your hand for the taking. “Nice to meet you, Arin.”
“Hello, it’s a pleasure,” she says and squeezes your hand. She is sweaty all over, from her pretty face to her arms and hands. The nerves of being the first today, hell, maybe it’s her first adult video shooting ever. You’d surely remember such a pretty face.
“Okay, Arin,” the co-host says. “You know what to do? If you’d please squat down in front of the curtain, thank you.”
Arin gets in between the two of you, her eyes scanning you top to bottom, but then fixating on your cock when she squats down.
“I think I know what’s about to happen,” you whisper and wink at the camera.
“It’s a bit more complex than that. While testing their throats, you need to use your creativity. Find out what they like, what they are best at and what you can teach the viewers while you’re going to town on their mouths. Give comments on everything, sort of like a teacher.”
“Y’all are insane!” you laugh, then nod eagerly. “Alright, I’m down for it. Is there any timer, some goal I need to achieve like in the last episode?”
“Only one rule:” the co-host says as he inches out of the frame. “Enjoy yourself.”
Everything changes with the blink of an eye. From the introduction and stupid banter to the main reason why people spend money on this. No one pays for a fucking box with the title ‘Around the World Season 3 Episode 4 Combo Special Just Testing’ to see you standing there naked. They want to see you do what they can’t: fuck more than a dozen of beautiful women without breaking a sweat and giving perfect remarks. Do your job and give them the addicting rush of awe, envy and lust.
“Arin, are you nervous?” you ask the young woman squatting before you.
“No, not at all,” she responds with a smile that can break every boy’s heart. “I’m very excited though!” 
“I’m just asking because your face is quite—let’s call it wet.”
“I-I’m sorry, I-I know I can sweat a lot, it’s…” Arin’s self-aware stutter ends in her averting your gaze. You reach for her head and give her a few pats, while giving your dick a few strokes. 
“You’re perfect, no need to be embarrassed.” Put your cock to her lips and Arin sighs. She forms a perfect O and you slowly glide into her. At this point, with you still only half-erect, it’s easy for her to take you. The feeling of getting harder inside such a pretty mouth is only surpassed by really fucking it. You’ll get there eventually, until you’re sick and tired of it.
“Here is the thing,” you casually say, making sure the main camera captures Arin’s face and the small bulge in her cheek. “Some people sweat more than others. In the case of our beautiful Arin, I’d use this as an easy way to make her messy. Look, she has so much hair, so many long strands, and they can easily stick to her face.”
You ruffle Arin’s hair with both of your hands as you slowly pump into the soft cheek. The wavy nutella-colored hair fans out, sticks to Arin’s sweaty shoulders, then her arms and lastly her forehead. You brush aside the rest for now and tell the second camera man to come closer.
“Take a look from my angle. Look at how wonderful this is. To all the guys who think their girl looks beautiful while you’re out with family or in public—try bringing her home afterwards and then do this. That orderly girl, a complete mess. It's awesome.”
Arin’s eyes have locked onto the camera. If this really is her first time, she is a star already, perfect for all kinds of blowjob and face fucking videos. Maybe she is already a pro, then you surely have to try out if she can take you fully. She is still able to handle your growing erection inside her, but now you have to go all out.
“To all the ladies,” you say and position Arin’s head towards the main camera again. “Take a look at how Arin forms her lips. Literally, look at the perfect O when I pull out. That’s the way to get a good grip, to make your man go weak.”
You slowly back off, your cock pops free and Arin gets it. She keeps the shape of her mouth the same way as before. The lipstick makes it look like a circle, mathematical pure, but otherwise very lewd. Trail your fingers along them as some of the staff members give their well-timed ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. It’s all for the show. 
Suddenly, you roughly grab the sides of Arin’s bewildered face and shove your cock hilt deep into her mouth. The O was too tempting, the tension inside your loins too strong, and the gags are too perfect to stop. Arin reaches for your thighs to keep herself steady, while her hair bops and sways, the mess coming more and more to fruition.
“Entering is easy,” you say with your unbroken teaching-voice. “Your boyfriend or husband can penetrate you effortlessly when you keep the O. Arin is a pro at it, but you can learn it too.”
Again, the secondary cameraman scoots closer, films from the level of your hips into Arin’s face. She gags and coughs, drool pools on the underside of your relentlessly pounding dick, which sadly can’t fully enter her, despite your best efforts. At least Arin tears up and makes her face even messier. Her hair is now blocking most of her view as it clings to her forehead and makes for quite the barrier.
Groan when you pull out your long hard-on, let Arin cough and breathe freely. She slobbered up a lot of saliva, most of it spread on your cock, the rest running down her chin. Something about her beady, needy eyes makes you want to fuck her until she is the ultimate mess, chaotically whimpering because she wants it so much, but you will have to pass on that today.
“Good girl, Arin, well down,” you praise her and point to the camera. “Keep looking at the camera and spread your knees a bit apart.”
Arin does as told, though she struggles to stay in her squatting position without falling backwards. You kneel behind her and hold her in place. Just a tap on her knees, and she spreads them until you’re satisfied.
“You’re not wearing anything under those jeans,” you state and put a finger on her crotch. “It’s kind of disappointing, I thought you were a mess down there already. 
“Do you want me to make you a mess down there too?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then use your suction-cup-lips, baby,” you whisper and get back into position. This time, you give Arin time to prepare. No surprise attack, let her relish in the feeling of your large phallus blocking off her airflow and disheveling the remaining fragment of her innocence. 
Arin licks and sucks, all while humming everytime you don’t force a gag out of her. She is determined in her want for your cock, as much as she can handle, which still isn’t every last inch, but to be fair, she makes up for it. This undeniable passion, even the highest quality camera and best directing cannot capture it. 
Most impressive of all however is that Arin remains in her squatting position. She has balance and posture, sure, but maybe it’s her want for you that keeps her stable like this, through potential back pain. Admire her for it by making the last thrusts violently hard, until her jeans are ruined.
“I think we’re done, fuck,” you curse enthusiastically and the camera immediately goes in between Arin’s legs. “What a beautiful mess. You did very well, Arin.”
Circle the denim with your fingers and bite her sore lips. The lipstick has mostly transferred to your cock, an indicator on how much she was missing for the ultimate triumph. But Arin is no deepthroat pro, she excels in other areas.
“This is definitely a way, a way to make things work, to ruin or be ruined,” you croak out, realizing your throat is too dry to continue babbling. Someone hands you a water bottle, you down it quickly. “Sorry for this interruption, Arin, let me tell you that you would pass any test with ease.”
“Th-thank you,” Arin squeaks, her throat not dry, but surely sore. “Glad you li-liked it.”
Kiss her on the cheek.
“A pleasure to meet you, but I have to go now. My bed is calling.”
Cheers from behind you when you pass through the curtain, two cameramen following you, the director and co-host right behind them. A wide, well-lit hallway opens to you. Every door looks open and you can sense the nudity, the lewdness, the sex that emanates from them like a seductive odor. With a gleeful smile you turn to the co-host, who quietly points at the first door to your right.
“Guess we’ll start here—although I cannot see any beds in here. Is this a pool, or what?” 
To your surprise, you find the room mostly tiled and flooded with a few centimeters of warm water, perfect to wash your feet and maybe doze for a couple of minutes—which is exactly what a young lady pretends to do in the middle of it all. She lays prone in front of a large bouquet, only wearing a skimpy bikini to hide the private parts of her slender body with surprising curves. 
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“Hello there, beautiful,” you say cheerfully and kneel next to the dozing woman. “Are you comfortable?”
“Hello,” she responds, a sleepiness and hunger evident in her eyes. “It is amazing. I could stay here all day.”
“Begs the question:” you interject and closely inspect her short, black hair with those meticulously styled bangs. “Is it fun to have sex in here?”
“Should we find out?” she asks and moves her fingers to the string holding her bikini in place. You quickly grab her wrist and guide it back up and at a snail's pace. 
“Now, now, young misses. I don’t even know your name, and you already want me to fuck you on these hard tiles? Where are your manners? Maybe you’re still in dreamland. What’s two plus two?”
“Four, I’m not stupid—”
“Six plus six?”
“Twelve. Look I—”
“Eight plus ten?”
“Eighteen—”
“Your plus name?”
“Huh?”
Someone snickers behind the camera set up. Other staff members try to find a spot in the narrow door to watch the spectacle unfold, but no matter how distracting they may be, your professionalism will not falter.
“Oh, uhm sorry,” the girl says, still more puzzled than surprised. “I’m Chaewon, the wannabe mermaid. Sorry for being rude, I got here early and now I’m so relaxed, God, I can’t think straight.”
“Good for you, Chaewon.” You inspect her face, small, sharp jaw, impeccable shape with an adorable nose and the already mentioned bangs that just make it look a bit more perfect. “Stay relaxed then, because I believe it is one of the many perks—
“—of having sex in this water instead of a bed.” Increase the volume of your speech so the viewer knows that they should pay attention if they want to learn something. I mean, who doesn’t watch to learn how to have sex with a doll for a woman in perfect shallow water? That’s what you’re all about.
“Chaewon, should we get started?”
“Sure.”
This time, Chaewon is allowed to undress. She does so lazily, flaunting her body almost accidentally, yet with all the purpose of the world. Firm, mid-sized tits and an even firmer, even bigger butt make for excellent curves on this gorgeous, small woman. After discarding the bikini in the tiny waves of the tiny pool, if you dare call it that, Chaewon lets herself fall back into the prone position, chin barely above the water.
What is not barely above the water is her ass, which she pulls open a bit for you to catch a glance yet not see her glorious hole in all its beauty. She is really on her lowest level, no effort and fucks given. 
“Guys,” you sigh and whine. “Only do this with your girl if you are okay with her being not only absolutely passive, but also a little hindrance. Don’t expect her to do anything. You’re the workhorse for today. Ladies, I’d urge you to do exactly what Chaewon does. Add nice smelling flowers and candles, relax and just exist. Don’t even spread your ass for him.”
Chaewon giggles and releases a long, barely audible moan when your fingers dig into the flesh of her butt cheeks and pull them apart. 
“Get a camera on there,” you say with dramatic shock. “Quick! Film this perfect, perfect hole. Holy shit, Chaewon, why did I not know of you? You must be such a butt slut.”
“All training~” she chicly says and lazily looks over her shoulder. “But it’s rarely this relaxed.”
Don’t even waste time grinding on the smooth skin of her butt or in between her big cheeks. You immediately insert your tip into the puckered hole and slam down half way. Chaewon moans, satisfied and rests on her crossed arms as if she is getting a massage.
“Hold on, you all see that? I mean, you can’t feel it like I do, but,” you pause and start to slowly fuck Chaewon’s ass, giving her more and more of your length the longer it goes on. “I have never felt something like this. You must be training every day, all day, huh?
“Chaewon, I’m talking to you. You’re also on cam, so please don’t sleep.” 
“There is always something inside me,” Chaewon babbles in a cute, dreamy voice. You decide to wake her up by pushing your tip as deep as possible, and it actually works. Chaewon jumps, stretches herself and you lean to her ear. Tug away the straight, black strands so she can hear your most quiet whisper.
“Yes, but it never reaches this deep. Your hole is so loose around me, but my tip feels great. But this won’t do.”
You turn to the camera with a dumbfounded expression, which bemuses the ever chattering and peeking staff members, especially when your cock slips from the not-so-tight confines of Chaewon’s ass.
“We need to change it up,” you say and point to your co-host. “Give me one of our products, I think this bubble-butt-bitch needs more than one thing inside her.”
Chaewon laughs at the joke, innocent at first, but her laughter turns lewd when she eyes the massive dildo the cameraman hands you. With piqued interest, she watches over her shoulders as you align both your shaft and the fake shaft with her loose entrance. 
“I think I don’t need to elaborate that this is not the norm. Please only use one of these on your bottom, okay? I’m not liable for damages.”
Finding the right angle is a lot more difficult with this added width, but you’re able to get inside Chaewon. Her ring puts up some resistance at first, yet when she takes a longer breath, you get inside and immediately begin to thrust.
“Ah, fuck,” Chaewon groans happily and lets her upperbody sink into the water again. “This is, this is better than I thought.”
“Yeah, let’s just pretend that this happened from the start,” you giggle. “Chaewon feels pretty tight now. Her ass is warm, just like the water and her backside is almost as pleasing to the eye as her face.”
“Can you tell us more about the ground, what’s it like to have sex here?” the co-host asks from behind the camera, eyes glued to where you double-penetrate Chaewon’s ass. 
“Right, that’s why I’m here. Let me be honest, this was not my first thought and I was a bit skeptical. There are a lot of factors that have to be right, otherwise, fuck, otherwise it might not be that pleaseant. Colder water would make her tense up, that’s a no-no. If the tiles below are too coarse, it won’t feel great either; they could also be too slippery, which might sound fun but actually—”
Suddenly a loud, deep groan by Chaewon, followed by quick breaths. You must have found some special spot inside her ass. She starts to tremble, her entire body shaking with pleasure when you continue.
“Sorry about that distraction. All the worries aside, if you set it up perfectly, like here, and have someone who can take it up the ass like Chaewon, it might actually be the best way to fuck someone prone, period. The water makes you feel so clean too, although you are literally—
“—literally cumming from your ass. Isn’t that right, Chaewon~?”
The entire crew stops breathing for a moment. Chaewon starts to whine at your precise, hard thrusts. For the first time, the young woman tenses up. Inaudible screams leave her lips and she cums violently. Her ring has a tight grip on your base, both you and the dildo are stuck in the bottomless pit for the time being. 
“Yes, oh God, yes!” Chaewon shouts out, still high on the pleasure. “So good!”
“Solo double-anal; ever had that before?” you ask and brush her wet hair with your wet hand. 
“No, but I definitely need it again.”
Chaewon begins to relax and you are able to free yourself. With a bit of regret, you leave the warm water. Would have been nice to stay for longer, especially with such a fascinating specimen, but you need to take your leave. After all, there are still dozens of girls waiting for you.
“Sure. Hit me up. My number is on screen right now.”
“Wha—” the director gasps and quickly proceeds to cover his own mouth.
“Hey, it was just a joke. Anyways, see you later, Chaewon.
“Now, can someone hand me a towel, please? And some water as well, all this water left me thirsty.”
Turn to the camera as people rush to bring you the requested items.
“That’s another tip from me: drink a lot of water. Helps with everything and is literally vital for your survival. I recommend non-carbonated water, the way God intended it to be.
“Now, where is the next room?”
“Right across the hallway,” the co-host says. “We’ll move on in a zig-zag motion from room to room for most of the testing. However, there is a special part which we will film somewhere else.”
“Sounds exciting!”
You dart to the next room, the filming crew barely able to keep up. Shaky footage will either be used for jokes or transitions, so there is value in seeing nothing but a blur of your backside and other surroundings. This time the door is only slightly ajar, yet you still burst in with no care in the world. A woman in front of a mirror jumps, her brush with white polish hitting the floor.
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“Jesus, who the—you fucking asshole!” she shouts, anger in her face from being pranked like this. You smirk when you recognize the woman's face. No need to apologize to this long time partner in crime.
“How did you know I was just fucking an asshole, Tiffy?” you ask her with a playful, stupid voice while wrapping your arm around her small waist.
“No, that is literally not what I meant, I said—”
Tiffany shuts up as soon as the first cameraman is in the room and up in her face. 
“What did you say, hm? C’mon~ tell the world how you just insulted a friend of yours.”
“We’re not friends, just fuck buddies,” she snarks back and looks down at the floor, stained with polish from the brush she dropped. “Look, you made a mess. These stains won’t ever go away, idiot.”
“Everyone,” you say to the camera, cheerfully ignoring everything Tiffany just talked about. “I think you should know Tiffany. She was on this show already and we had quite a good time with her. She did too, by the way.”
“No,” she whines and pouts. Lift her onto the dresser in front of the mirror. “What are you doing now?”
“I know that you’re here for the face-fucking-testing and I already know what we will do, but first, I really wanna see your pussy again. Is it still so pink and pretty?”
Tiffany blushes hard, it’s one of the things you love most about her features. In photo and porn shooting, she looks fierce, like an impenetrable Domme, a wall of confidence you can’t overcome, but with you around, she’s almost like a virgin. 
“D-don’t call it pre-pretty! I-I haven’t shaved,” she stutters, face hidden behind a hand with freshly painted nails.
“But it is so pretty. Let them have a look.”
Spread her legs with both your arms. If Tiffany really wanted her cunt to remain unseen, she could’ve just jumped from the dresser, but instead she plays timid—which seems like a ridiculous farce, because she is not wearing panties beneath her short, tight dress.
“Tiffy, why are you embarrassed? It’s such a cute pussy, and the hair just makes it better.”
“Stop using that name,” Tiffany growls behind gritted teeth. The lens of the camera is now on level with her crotch, while you drag your fingers up her massive thigh to her labia. A quick rub, and Tiffany tenses up, fearing you would notice her arousal—futile. You know her too well, her sweet spots, how mad she is for your cock. Sadly…
“I don’t get to fuck your pussy today, but I think you guys watching are excited to know more about her throat, more precisely hear more about it.”
“You’re such a tease, you could have a-at least given it a lick.”
Tiffany crosses her arms as she gets off of the dresser. The black dress really fits her figure, the color even more so, especially because it’s accompanied by black high-heels and a black overcoat. They all synergies so well, there is no question which color fits Tiffany the best.
“But if I had started eating you, I would not have stopped for at least a couple of hours, and this crew clearly does not have the time for that,” you say with a bit of sas before changing your expression back to something more serious. “Enough with the chit-chat, you know why we’re here?”
“Yes,” Tiffany says, flushed wiped off her face in an instant. “I hope I can hold this position for long enough. Squatting is tense.”
“If I were you, I’d worry more about if you’re able to hold your breath for long enough. We both know your gags are loud, violent and one of the most arousing sounds in the world, so—
“How about I shut up and you show them how deepthroating is done, Tiffany.”
“Bring it on,” she says and opens her mouth. You lay your cockhead on her idle tongue, knowing that it will not be idle later, when it does its deadly dance. It must be said that Tiffany is a pro at almost everything, yet her ability to suck cock is quite underrated amongst your peers. You told them back then that it would make for a great show and today, you’re about to show them.
Adjust your footing, while Tiffany adjusts her posture and tilts her head slightly back. Her lips open up more, letting your length glide into her already watering hole. Tiffany is great at knowing the perfect pace of your first entry, how to go above her limits, how to take you whole. 
You look down at her, but she is focused, not interested in any more shenanigans, only interested in showing off her skills. A first gag, loud and imposing, then her jaw opens fully. Nothing is holding you back, and when Tiffany’s tongue starts to tease the underside of your cock, you know she is ready to be fucking loud.
With both hands you begin to fuck her head onto your rod. Bursts of saliva shoot out on the sides of Tiffany’s mouth, but no one can pick up their slooches. Chokes and gags fill the hotel room, fill the microphones and soon the homes of many adults wondering: Is she going to be fine?
Probably.
In tandem with your hands, which start to entangle with the brunette's hair, you add the occasional hard hip thrust, which forces Tiffany’s nose to meet your crotch and your balls to be drenched in drool which she chokes up and slobbers through puckered lips. The gags inside her throat start to sound like rapid gunfire, and in your own delirious state of mind, you need to check if Tiffany can still handle it.
Probably?
Her eyes roll back to her head from time to time, but everytime they return, she looks more and more dazed. The rest of her body is starting to reject you, but you can’t pull out yet. There is something so satisfying about not having to explain things. The people can just watch and hear and then judge if they like it or not. Maybe you should add a disclaimer that not everyone is so in control of their gag reflex.
“This—this is gold, heaven really,” you groan and reluctantly give Tiffany time to breathe while your cock remains at her lips. She sucks cool air into her mouth, probably purposefully. You hiss at the difference in temperature. Tiffany chuckles in between her final chokes and squeezes your cock in torturous strokes.
“Tell them, big boy, tell them how special I am.”
“Shit, let go of my dick first. You can’t tear it off and expect us to stay friends.” 
Tiffany grins triumphantly. She kneads you with both her hands now and has the audacity to lean back a little. Your cock is misused as a rope to hold onto, and your mind goes haywire at the double pain, which somehow makes it feel great.
“Less whining, more praising~” Tiffany says and you speak your mind quickly and freely. Get those words out fast, or she’ll really make you a couple of inches shorter.
“Hng, okay, okay. Reminder for everyone: Tiffany, fuck, Tiffany is very fucking good at this. If you ever intend to try this at home, remember, you ain’t no Tiffany. Things could get really messy.”
“Thank. You.” 
Tiffany lets go of your manhood and falls backwards on the carpet. Her chest heaves, otherwise she remains motionless, a cocky grin on her face. It makes you raise your eyebrows and curse a bit. Why didn’t you continue? If she’s this calm already, you could have fucked her throat a bit longer. Make it sore, until she can only communicate with sign language for a couple of days.
“Next time, I’ll do it harder.” 
You return the cocky grin and leave the room, everyone but the two of you confused and speechless. Finally, the co-host steps up and shouts his question behind you.
“What is your business with her? Did something happen in the past?”
“Ah, you know, it’s just our dynamic. Your behavior depends on whoever you meet, where you meet them, what your mood is, what the occasion is—it’s the same for me too. The last time I had a shoot with Tiffany was months ago, and afterwards I kinda ignored her. Then we met at a random party, had a good chat, a couple drinks and next thing I know, she pins me to the wall and sucks me off. 
“I swear to God, I thought she was going to kill me, suck my soul out, stuff like that. She was pretty pissed I ignored her, which I didn’t really get so you know—fight and stuff; people have conflicts, it happens.”
As you tell the story, even the last stylist and technician flock around you. They form a cage to watch naked-you spill the tea, like it was any of their business. Not that you care, it’s all fabricated anyways, but they surely believe it. The editor will have a great time blurring them all out, especially those smart enough to get behind you, right in its focus.
“Uhm, what is happening?” you ask dumbfounded and watch the director from the corner of your eye. He is furious, pointing out to staff members to get out of your way. Swear to God, there is never a shoot where things go smoothly. Luckily, you can just smile, smile, smile it away and disappear behind the door with nothing but a single cameraman. 
“Hi, nice to see you again,” a girl greets you with her arms wide open to hug you. You need a second to remember the face. It’s been a while since you’ve worked with her.
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“Rose, how pleasant to find you in this—okay, what the hell is this room?”
Black stained glass tiles on the floor and white stained ones on the ceiling, that’s it. No furniture, no carpet, no lamp, no nothing. Large windows let in enough light to make filming possible, but you doubt that this room is meant to be filmed in. 
“I was confused too at first,” Rose says, pulling down the straps of her thin dress and revealing to you her small breasts. “Apparently they want you to test me on the ground.”
“Oh, I see. So everything on the ground?” you ask the cameraman and he makes a nodding motion with the large device. “Whose idea was this? I’m sorry, Rose, I think you deserve better than this.”
“Ah, it’s fine,” she says with a kind smile while stepping out of her dress. Hands on her hips she reassures you: “Really, trust me. I think it will be an interesting experience.”
“Hm,” you hum and reach for one of her nipples, small and stiff and apparently very sensitive, because Rose mewls at the simplest touch on them. “Do you like this?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then how about we make good use of the coldness of the glass,” you lean down to Rose’s chest and lick all over Rose’s tiny tits. “and let your cute tits rub all over them?”
“Ha, yes, anything you like,” Rose moans, delighted, her thin legs shivering. 
“Perfect. Get on the ground, please.”
While lying prone, Rose’s very slender frame shines even more than when she stands upright. The only outlier are her hips, which have surprising width and are the first thing you get a hold of. Rose adjusts herself on the cold, sleek surface, lifting up her butt so you can enter her easily. In an agonizingly slow push, you start to fill her cute little ass with your way-too-big cock. Rose shimmies underneath you, nipples gliding over the tiles and making her breathless.
“Pl-please, b-be careful. F-feels bi-bi—g—ood.”
Rose’s cute plea halts your inner desire to ravish her tight hole. Only gently, you start to move in and out, never enough to get you closer to orgasm, but the way she squeezes down on you makes up for it.
“You are very, very tight Rose. Is the ground too cold?”
“I-it’s fine,” she whimpers. “It feels good on my chest.”
“That’s something,” you sigh and stare at the camera in annoyance. Where the hell is the director? Whose idea was this? Back when you read the script, ‘Rose - On The Ground’ sounded a lot better in theory. You expected a carpet or at least a warmer surface, but now Rose is grinding on the floor and—actually tightening? 
“Oh fuck, Rose, I don’t remember you being this tight. Looks like the glass has some benefits.”
“Ha, hng,” Rose moans and interrupts her own sentence. “Ju-just my boobs, ni-nipples feel so good. Please, don’t stop!”
“As long as you’re enjoying yourself, I guess I can live with you being a cocksleeve,” you laugh, then hiss at Rose starting to move on her own, her butt creeping up and swallowing your entire dick. “Fellas, I think in some rare cases, fucking on the cold, hard ground isn’t too bad, shit.”
It’s too early, you can’t cum yet. Put a hand in between Rose’s legs, feel her smooth thighs, warm and wet unlike the floor, until you reach the source of her heat. In circles, you rub over her labia and Rose begins to fidget and gasp. In a lucky swoop, you find her clit and place it in between two of your fingers. You can only play with it for so long, Rose is already close and without warning, she cums on your hand. Luckily, you were able to pull out in time, or else her ass would have sucked out your life-sparking liquid like a hungry vampire. 
“That was,” you turn to the camera, out of breath from your last second escape. “better than I want to admit. I’m angry and satisfied at the same time. Everyone, I’m sorry, but I can’t really rate this. Try it if you feel frisky, but maybe, you should just fuck in bed.
“You on the other hand were amazing, Rose. High five?”
But Rosie is already dozy and has fallen into a deep slumber. Right, you remember her being like this after strong orgasms. One moment she is screaming in bliss, the next she snores like a married spouse of twenty years. At least she fell to the side, so you take the chance to look at her breasts again. So small, yet so sensitive and overwhelming. Put a mental reminder up that you will have to suck on them one day.
“Okay, so why did no one come with me in this room?” you irritatedly ask both the director and co-host. They look at each other and shrug, a scripter writer beside them points at one of the many scripts, but from this far out it’s impossible to recognize any letters. You stretch your back and sigh.
“Ah, fuck it. Let’s just move onto the next. Maybe you can give me an intro this time?”
“S-sure,” your co-host responds, shuffling cards while trotting at the edge of the screen. “Next up we have Miss Xiaoting from China. If you like the squatting pose, she will probably be your favorite today. Make sure to awe at the way she—”
There she is—and he is damn right. Xiaoting squats in front of a light pink wall, her short dress in wrinkles, large gloves the same. She watches you enter with a small smile, then starts to pose as if hundreds of cameras were clicking to capture every quantum of her beauty. 
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“Hello,” you slowly say to the woman down before you.
“Hello,” she gently responds, peeking up at you.
“You look very elegant, Xiaoting.”
“I know.”
She drags a finger along her thigh and over her knees which not only sit neatly side by side, but also fold in such a gorgeous way that you would want to drag your tongue all over them and feel the stretched, spotless skin. 
“Do you also know what I like to do with elegant women?” you ask, expecting her to either play dumb or be dumb.
“I do, actually,” she responds with wit, her small smile now a smirk. “If you would take my hands, kind Sir?”
Intrigued by the Chinese girl, you offer her your hands. Xiaoting takes them with her cotton gloves to remain steady while her angled legs start to part and reveal what’s beneath the short dress. Panties, of course, but they are not the normal kind. Very skimpy, already wet with what can only be her pussy juice. Then you take a closer look.
“Is that a vibrator?”
“You are right, Sir. It’s the biggest that I have. One push on the button on the top of it, and it will steadily increase its speed.”
Xiaoting looks up and whispers in what can only be described as the lewdest kind of mind control known to man.
“Time to make this elegant woman become a needy bitch, hm?”
Reach down to where the sun does not shine and find the plastic device embedded in soaked panties. In the meantime, Xiaoting reaches for your cock, to keep herself upright on those thin, fragile heels of hers. Unlike Tiffany, she grabs it with care and awe, but you would prefer her bare hands to the
fluffy, dry cotton. Luckily, you don’t have to ask: Xiaoting wraps her lips around your tip with grace and gratitude as the vibrator in her cunt begins to purr.
“Ha, thank you,” she moans and kisses all over your dick with excellent elegance, fitting for her. “Keep pace with it, pretty please?”
“I’d love to,” you husk and stroke her straight hair, which smells fresh and would make for a great masturbation aid—but who needs hair when you can go straight for her pretty mouth?
A slow thrust into Xiaoting’s slobbering mess of a mouth. She has yet to react to the vibrator in her cunt, even the first audible increase in its intensity gets ignored. Give her a harder thrust this time, to the point she has to gag. Xiaoting tenses up and looks up at you, making your heart rate go up with a single glance.
“Fuck, something about your expression is just perfect. Always flaunting your beauty, always waiting for someone to stuff your holes. I can’t wait for the vibrator to make you tremble.”
Xiaoting releases your cock with a pop and gives it a couple of quick pumps.
“Me neither. Damn, I wish there were two of you.”
“This, ladies, tell your partner this, and he will give you twice the effort. He might not have two dicks, but he will fuck you like he has. And don’t feel shy, ask him about bringing toys to your playtime. You will see why in a second.”
Xiaoting puts you back to her lips and opens wide, greedy yet gracious, a paradox fateful to her character. She will do great in the adult video scene. She could shoot the same porno over and over again and people would still be attracted to her, and would still indulge in what she brings to the table.
Especially when she starts to twitch.
At first, it’s just her pussy. The third level of speed from the vibrator finally makes her cunt milk it, desperate for more movement along her slick walls. From there, the twitching creeps up her torso and down her legs, making her wide hips tremble ever so slightly and removing the first bits of stability from her beautiful, confident feet.
“See? Focus on her legs,” you tell the cameraman. “It has begun. God, to see your thighs tremble while getting your pussy pounded is probably worthy of a painting. Sadly, I’m a terrible painter, so the only thing I can provide is a couple of videos.”
“Yesh, pleash,” Xiaoting bubbles through the blockade in her mouth and you take this as an indirect call to fuck her face harder. She appreciates it by whimpering and showing the increasing giddiness in her head through glassy eyes. 
“I think you all know—,” you speak up like the professor in one of his many lectures. “—that if she speaks while you go down her throat, you need to go harder or faster or both. Make her shut up. Obvious lesson, but here is how you can still communicate. Girls, pay attention.
“Xiaoting, please pinch my thigh if I go too rough, okay?”
Xiaoting nods, but could never have expected the onslaught of pumps and the reckless depth your manhood finds in her throat. Her eyes jump wide in shock, then fear of suffocation. Violent gags and she immediately pinches your thigh. You halt and pull out.
“Sorry about that. Are you okay?” you murmur with slight concern.
“I-I’m fi—oh, fu—y-yeah, I’m fine.”
Xiaoting can barely get words out. She might not be suffocated anymore, however another stuffed hole starts to get violated and it resonates throughout her entire frame, no body part is safe from the trembling, especially not her vocal cords.
“Oh, sounds like we are up to level four. Just listen to her moan, everyone.”
Both camera and microphone move closer to the action. They capture Xiaoting’s eyes flooded with tears, shaking, her lips covered in drool, shaking and then her hand still on your leg, shaking, of course. Her moans will be played on repeat for so many people and they’ll imagine her huffing on your balls, licking on your shaft and lapping up your pre-cum. Oh fuck, it’s a bit early for that.
“Damn, you are so good at that,” you whisper below the volume of Xiaoting’s moans and the vibrator in her pussy. You’d love to see it go crazy, maybe wiggle it a bit side to side, up and down to get her over the edge. No, you cannot get distracted, she will get to her orgasm soon enough. You should experience it while plugged into her mouth.
“Come on, Xiaoting. Let yourself fall, lose all this fake, nonsense elegance. Let yourself fall, on the ground and cum, cum on the fake cock in your pussy and I promise…
“One day, I’ll stuff it myself.”
Push past her lips, drown out her response in gags. The sides of her head in the palm of your hands feel so natural, the gratification of smearing your precum to the back of her throat so deserved. Yes, you work your butt off for this shit, you deal with dumb managers and even dumber directors, who give orders like they have either never seen a porno or too many. There is never a session where things go without a mistake.
All the bullshit is forgotten when you take a step back, watch your cock spring from Xiaoting’s tender lips and she begins to squirt. Level five, the strongest setting, has her spasming, droplets flying everywhere, streams running down her thighs. You predicted she would fall over, but somehow Xiaoting remains in her position, even as the orgasm rocks her body.
“Fuck, too much, too much, ah~!”
The Chinese woman throws her head back and reaches in between her legs. She jerks the vibrator a couple of times, extending her orgasm and leaving you hard as a rock in the air, dangerously close to your own arrival. But you cannot go out like this, it would be a stain on your legacy and the freshly cleaned carpet. 
“You are amazing, Xiao,” you cheer for her as she gets down from her high and pulls out the vibrator. “Oh my, it’s bigger than I thought.”
“Th-thanks, i-it’s the biggest I’ve ever taken.”
“I know what I would rate this experience, easily the highest grades, so I’m interested in how you liked it.”
Xiaoting pouts and thinks. There is a hidden cute side to her, something you’d like to show to your parents when you invite her over for the first time. They would be thrilled and don’t have to know that she can look so desperately slutty. 
“I’d give it a nine out of ten, but only because—,” she smirks and stares at your rigid erection. “—next time, I need to squat on you.”
“I think we can arrange that.” You wink. “See you later, Xiao!”
Xiaoting blushes at her new nickname and waves you goodbye. Everyone waddles out of her room, you on the forefront, heart rate decreasing at a much slower pace. Some of these girls try to get in there, but you can’t let yourself get fooled. Be the actor and act, don’t think too much of it has basically become your mantra ever since the girls you worked with have gotten prettier, clingier, more loving. 
Nothing is gained by falling for them, so you reach for another bottle of water and take a large sip. You need to cool off a little bit, which is a huge badge of honor for Xiaoting and her visuals, but she will never hear it. One of the staff brings you a coat, and for a second you are utterly lost to why in the hell she would do that. Then you remember the next scene and that you are still on cam. 
“Oh, thank you. Dammit, they know what you need. I can feel the cold from the room coming already. Are you going to put me into a freezer or something?”
Put the large coat over your shoulders and loosely close it at the front. This is where your impressive size comes in handy. Your entire body might be wrapped into it, but the coat can’t cover the last couple of inches of your cock. 
You dramatically over act the cold when you enter the next room. It has neither a bed nor a couch, so the woman is once again laying on the ground.
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“Guys, not again! Look at her, she must be freezing.”
“Quick!” the woman says with urgency as she turns her head towards you. “You should wrap yourself in something warm and I have just the right place.”
The woman spreads the cheeks of her denim-covered butt to show you a small opening placed right where you assume her asshole is. Her short black hair reminds you of Chaewon, but unlike Chaewon, she is putting in the effort to take you. She is even unbuttoning her shirt in this quite chilly room. 
“Stop that,” you try to reason, yet can’t help but walk closer and look at her cleavage. “You, you might catch a cold.”
“We will both catch a cold if you don’t act quickly,” she whines and presents her ass again. “Put it in and we’ll both be warm.”
You can’t say no to that, she sounds very reasonable after all. Pull your coat open and lay down on top of her, your cockhead feeling the denim of her jeans, the cotton of her shirt, you have to adjust yourself some more until you find the hole. You poke one of her voluptuous cheeks, which makes her hiss in excitement.
“Can I lay down on top of you?” you whisper into her ear. “I think we’ll be even warmer then, Mrs—”
“Eunbi,” she responds, a bit annoyed that you’re keeping her waiting. “Do whatever you want, just put it in already.”
“I’d be my pleasure.”
Quite literally, it is. Eunbi’s puckered hole puts more resistance than you would have imagined, certainly more than Chaewon’s did. The reward however astonishes you. Her insides are hot and soft, wrapping around your rod like a cozy blanket on a cold winter night. 
“Show them your face, Eunbi,” you groan and get a hold of her chin. Guide her face towards the lens of the camera, which hovers right in front of Eunbi’s stunning features. The tiny string of drool hanging from the tip of her luscious lower lip flips her visual from adorable and kind to lewd and needy. Eunbi is not satisfied with your slow half-pumps into her ass. Time to change that.
“Oh, fu—y-you feel so warm,” she moans, her hole stretched by your twitching phallus gliding in and out. A second camera behind you films the action between your legs. At this point in your career, you are able to ignore it, to just go to town on her while feeling more of Eunbi’s hot body. 
“You too, Eunbi. I think there is something we can show them to make them feel warmer as well.”
Eunbi smirks and pushes herself up with both arms while you still cling to her back and keep yourself deep inside her rectum. With a hand creeping up her stomach—damn, you can feel her amazing muscles—you finally find and open the last couple of buttons of her shirt to free what would warm any straight man’s heart. 
Eunbi’s massive, perky, bare tits. 
“Take a look at them,” you say with awe and Eunbi giggles. “So big, so soft and so warm. If you have breasts like this, you can both give and get the warmth you need to make this session fun.”
You begin to massage one of Eunbi’s breasts and she throws her head back to the point where you can see her face. She smiles at you, rosy cheeks, tired eyes and a bone structure to die for. Her hair, the color of dark chocolate, hangs down and bops with every new thrust you give her warm ass.
“How is that? Do you like it?” you ask and smile back.
“I just wanted to ask the same thing,” she giggles, but then you force a drawn out moan from her when you roll her nipples in between your fingers. “It-it feels good, fuck.”
“That’s nice to hear, because I feel the same. You are literal heat, Eunbi. I’d have not problem fucking you outside, even at night.”
Press your lips on her cheek and before she can return the peck you rail her harder, onto the cold floor, both her melons in eager hands. Attack her sensitive spots, watch and feel how the heat from inside her radiates, making even the director sweat. Eunbi herself tries to wring something out of you, so you have to stop her ass from slamming backwards by pinning it to the floor. 
The added stretch to her cheeks combined with a pinch to her nipples makes Eunbi lose it. In a deep groan, her entire body tenses up one final time, before she cums rather quietly, only whimpering at your final set of thrusts. Her upper body sinks back to the floor and you make sure to tug her tits behind the shirt again. 
“Don’t catch a cold, okay?” you whisper into her ear and pat her head.
“I won’t,” she reassures. “Why didn’t you fill me with your warm cum? It would have made so much sense!”
“Sorry, darling, the script says otherwise.”
Hopefully the sound crew did not pick that up. You have to sell the illusion at least, the illusion that this is all happening at random, off script, as if no one gave you the list of women beforehand, as if no one told you what to do with them and how they like it, as if none of this is completely fake. Well, even if you fail to be illusive at times, the editors can just cut it out. No need to worry. 
You and Eunbi get up from the floor simultaneously, bodies still close to each other. Suddenly, she wraps an arm around her nape and pulls you down into a kiss. That one is off script, not planned, but with her following reasoning it might stay in the final cut.
“I think this will keep us both warm~”
“You are right about that. I’ll hopefully see you again?”
“Whenever you like, big boy. Have fun, bye~”
On your way across the hallway, you suddenly stop and curl your finger towards your co-host. 
“I think it’s time that you say the line,” you tell him with a serious expression as he steps over the wires into the frame.
“Oh, I see you have something planned. Well, everyone, I’d like to remind you that not everything on this show will be to everyone’s liking. Feel free to skip forward, thank you.”
‘But what about their suspension of disbelief’ you once argued with the show runners, but they blocked you off. 
‘It has to be this way, what once started cannot be undone. We also need him to be in the frame at least a couple of times,’ all bullshit reasons in your opinion. It’s the way it is, can’t really do anything about it.
The camera is right behind you again, it films you opening the door and finding a familiar woman leaning against a black wall, phone in her delicately manicured hand, skirt too short for public, but just right for filming. Her silver high-heels clack when she wordlessly approaches you and pins her straight, blonde hair behind an ear. 
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“If I knew I’d be filming with you, I would have worn something nicer,” she husks with lust, her hands pressed flat on your chest.
“What are you talking about, Miyeon, you look fucking amazing!” you counter her words and put an arm around her small waist. “Turn to the camera, sweetheart. I think everyone would agree.”
Like the superstar model she could have been, Miyeon poses, gaze arrogant, as if to say that no one is worthy of being in the same room or breathing the same molecules as her. With these looks she could have made millions by just wearing clothes. You’re glad she chose a different career path, one that she calls ‘a lot more exciting.’
“What are we going to do today?” Miyeon asks. “I hope you don’t bore me.”
“Has Just Testing ever been boring?” you laugh out loud, but Miyeon looks unimpressed.
“Yeah, but I have had my face fucked countless times. On my knees, in heels, while upside down—go a bit crazy for me, boy!”
“Oh, so you’re down for anything new?”
“Yes, please!”
Miyeon gets into position, hands resting on her thighs expectantly. You brush her hair back to get an uninterrupted path to her mouth. Not your first time she has you on her lips, but back then it was just for a quick cumshot. The rest of the time you railed her against the wall. She also wore heels and the wall was black as well. The set-designers went with some nostalgia it seems. 
“Open up, my pretty little bitch, and rub across my stomach. I promise I’ll give you something you never had.”
Miyeon does as told. It has the effect you had hoped for. The soft phalanxes of her fingers slowly moving across your skin put more pressure to your filled bladder. The hunt for an orgasm gets pushed back by the impending feeling of having to release yourself. It has been there for a while now, but it has not been this overwhelming.
“Good job, such a pro at it,” you praise Miyeon, then turn to the camera. “For those of you who want to try it, man, woman, whatever, you have to follow a simple rule: Drink lots of water. It’s healthy, filling and won’t stay inside of you as long as calories do.”
“Why are you talking about this?” Miyeon groans in annoyance, lazily licking your cockhead, not attempting to put it past her lips. 
“You will find out soon enough. Keep your mouth open though.”
“You just want me to shut up, don’t you?”
“I don’t want you to miss what’s coming, Miyeon.”
“We already filmed a cumshot scene, idiot.”
The script could not have timed it more perfectly. The moment you wanted to release coincides with the moment you can’t hold it in anymore. With a roaring gasp, you reach for your cock to point it perfectly at Miyeon’s perfect face and unleash a strong stream of clear piss. 
Miyeon almost falls backwards from her squatting posture, but after her initial shock she keeps herself steady. Like a good girl, she keeps her mouth open and catches most of your gushing piss in it. The rest covers her face fully, streams down her neck or drips directly onto her slightly bloated white crop-top. 
Miyeon throws her head back when she swallows, letting you shower her in the gradually fading stream of clear liquid. Piss splashes on her thighs, feet, her skirt gets drenched when she parts her legs. You swing your cock around at the end to get rid of the last droplets, which rain onto her golden hair and for some reason make her moan in ecstasy.
“Oh God, what was that? I knew you would not disappoint me.”
“Everything for you, Miyeon.”
“I think I can throw these away now.”
Miyeon smirks when she gets up. A pull at her button and her skirt falls to the floor on its own. God, how you’d love to fuck her shaven slit right here, right now, with her covered in your release, marked as yours. Like so many things, it has to wait.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask and raise an eyebrow at the blonde girl starting to finger herself. “I have places to be.”
“I just want to get you ready again. Look, you can’t fuck someone being this soft!”
Fingers, covered in Miyeon’s pussy juice, wrap around you. Her full strokes have always been top level, barely outmatched by anyone. She is so good at jerking men off, there are videos of her doing just that and setting speed records. They are called Awesome Cum Done Quick and should be an embarrassment for all the record holders. Then again, they had Miyeon fucking the winner, so he certainly had the happiest twenty-three seconds of his life.
Keep your act together and squeeze her wrist when you are fully hard again. No need to get on any spot of that leaderboard. Miyeon sighs in disappointment but lets you go. 
“Thank you. Fuck me again, will ya?”
“Sure,” you groan in fake annoyance and leave with a smile. This should be about the time that the people skipping your last scene will join back in. You neither want to keep them nor your cock waiting. Jump into the next scene without warning and the small woman lying atop an old, worn out couch shrieks.
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“Ah, what the—you scared me!”
“Sorry, I just wanted to test you—I mean the couch—I mean… I’m just testing.”
That one was unintentional, an off script joke that the actress has to deal with now. She seems to be unfazed, watching back to you over her shoulder, her forehead in many wrinkles of doubt.
“Oh, you better do it thoroughly then. I can’t fucking stand being scared like that,” she responds and wiggles her cute butt up in the air. 
“Sure, but can I get your name first?” 
“Jieun,” she sternly replies.
“Nice to meet you Jieun. How tall are you?”
“How dare you—”
Muffle Jieun’s rage with your lips on hers. A spell that simply works, at least in porn. The woman calms down, her defense falls until she is yearning for more, dragging out the make-out session. Now is the perfect time to pull down her thin, tight shorts to where her socks start and knead one of her buttocks.
“You are such an asshole,” Jieun murmurs into the kiss and you look at her wide open eyes full of need. Suddenly, you push your middle finger into her butthole and feel her clench around it. Her eyes fall shut as she hisses and you quickly bite her lower lip.
“Say that again?” you tease while getting in position behind her. Jieun remains silent, her mouth pressed to the side of the small couch to keep herself silent when you enter, but it’s no use. She screams manically at your first push. And at your second. At the third she falters, trembles and surrenders herself into the cushions of the couch.
“Some of you might think that I hate fucking on these couches,” you say to the camera. “But I really don't. Some of them get thrown away too early. You can still have sex on them. Stains don’t need to bother you, their bagginess is great and even if they seem a bit small, you can still make it work.
“Just watch.”
Jieun has this tendency to push her ass up. Call it defiance, maybe it’s the way she likes it, but either way you have to deal with it. If you want to feel the couch below you and want to rank it properly, you will have to slam down hard into Jieun—and with glee, you do.
Hammer your cock into her, crash into the leather surface, yet she still bounces her ass up like a bouncy ball. It’s kinda like dribbling a basketball, just a lot more fun. Jieun is your cheerleader, her ‘hmph’s’ and ‘ah’s’ a motivating chant with how she repeats them on every single dribble of yours. 
“You got such a nice little ass,” you groan into Jieun’s ear while the camera is focused on filming the penetration from behind. “I bet you were envious of girls with bigger asses, so you started to flaunt yours. But then some guys asked if they could fuck it. You were hesitant at first, but after the first thrust, you already loved it. That’s why you keep pushing your butt up.
“Isn’t that right, Jieun. I bet you cum hard from just anal.”
“Ah, I—I, hng!”
Jieun starts to gush. Her knees give out and you finally feel her stay flat on the cushions. Time to give this couch a proper review while Jieun is still weak and shaking from her orgasm. You intentionally dig your legs and fingers into the smooth leather curves, partially stained by sweat and Jieun’s arousal.
“This couch in particular might not be premium,” you elaborate, interrupted by Jieun’s hard panting. “But even though it’s small and slippery, you can still use it to your full advantage. Bend her over the back, make her sit on you, hell, Doggystyle will be great no matter how big you are. I’d recommend not going for 69 or missionary, unless she is as small as our Jieun here.”
You end your review with a chuckle, expecting Jieun to snark back or at least flip you off. From what you’ve heard she reacts pretty harshly to being called small, so it’s surprising to see no reaction apart from her butt still swaying side to side. 
Get down to her face again, a gentle hand on her red buttocks. Jieun’s gorgeous, gorgeous face is mixed with emotions. Shock, bliss, anger, desperation, the list goes on with each scrunch of her tiny nose and flicker of her eyelashes. For some reason, it makes you feel bad.
“Hey, sorry if I went too far.”
“I’d call you good, because you are, but really—”
Jieun flicks your forehead, her middle finger leaving a red mark as you hiss.
“—fuck off. Don’t call me little!”
Fuck off you do. The door to the second to last room opens automatically. Inside you find the color of love and passion spread across the floor and up the walls. On shelfs and beds spread across the room you find toys usually used in BDSM sessions, everything from whips to gags to large dildos. You’re glad they spiced up the layout. Only red would have been boring.
“To the wall,” a voice suddenly commands from behind you. 
“Oh, I see how it is,” you exclaim, voice oozing with joy, but the other person is not having it.
“To the wall, and hands above your head,” she repeats, this time pinching your side with rather pointy nails.
“Ouch, okay, okay, no need to get aggressive, young-lady-who-tries-to-sound- hard-with-a-soft-voice,” you babble, leaning back to the nearest wall and stretching your arms when suddenly, two hands stroke your cock.
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“Shut it,” a tiny woman—really, even compared to Jieun she is tiny—in an extravagant dress snarks. She starts to twist both her hands in a corkscrew motion, one clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. Your cock feels grinded, violated and so you shout a quick apology.
“Ah, fuck, okay, I’m so-sorry. Please, s-stop.”
“No. You will suffer.
“And if you cum, I’ll kill you.”
She squats before you, her miniscule frame elevated lightly by the tall heels she wears. Otherwise, her mouth might not reach your dick properly. Speaking of which, she still has it twisted and you whimpering. To make matters worse, her hands are nothing compared to your size, so your swollen tip is still exposed, wide open to attacks from her wide open mouth. 
Okay, maybe matters aren’t worse, she is quite talented at swirling her tongue over your sensitive slit while bathing you in her hot breath. She is a dragon, strangulating its victim to death and giving it a first feeling of what hell feels like.
“Pl-please, have mercy,” you wail, then side-eye the camera filming down from your shoulder. “I-If your man says this, ladies, your d-doing a good job.”
Suddenly, the twisting stops. Your tortured cock longs for something cold to ease the pain of its contorted skin. The mercy is short lived however. Her thumb and middle-finger form a seal around your base, like a cockring. Warm drool runs down from your tip in what feels like cruel streams of lava. It burns, you wince.
“Wh-what’s your—”
“Shut it, no words.”
Stubborn, unapproachable, she is a wall you cannot climb. You can only gawk in awe when she begins to jerk up and down in the same rhythm her mouth bops up and down. The pistons to a machine, well-oiled with her own saliva, it’s purpose: to make you cum. It’s a loud machine too, moaning, whimpering, stuttering.
Grit your teeth. Try not to think about the sweet release, your cum shooting right into her mouth. God, she would hate you for this sudden defiance, an insult and betrayal of the highest order. But she is too good and knows when to quicken the pace of her hands or press her lips down just below your cockhead. You are so close to losing it, and as you slowly glide down the wall, you have to announce it.
“N-no, fuck, I’m so clo—”
“Don’t,” she shouts and stops all her movement. The ring of her fingers squeezes down and you watch your cock stand swollen and throbbing, ready to do it—she does not allow it. You feel your orgasm vanish before it can properly hit you. 
She looks pleased with your expression, with the tears in your eyes, with the fact that she has you blue-balled. Her job here is done, she lets go of your cock and with another stinging pinch, this time to your thigh, she kills your resolve. ‘Get out, you piece of shit,’ her eyes tell and you flee to someone who can salvage what's left of your lust. 
“Th-this was insane,” you scream and run to the next door, through the next door. “What in the hell are you doing to me? This show is crazy. Girls, don’t do this to your husband without his agreement, he might just have a heart attack. This shit hurts, oh my God!”
“Now, now,” your co-host says calmly. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Well… uh…
“It was, let’s say, something new. But now I really need something to get me going again.”
Scan the room side to side. It looks like a furniture store, the olive green and dark oak brown giving off cozy vibes. Amidst all the decorative furniture, you find something, rather someone, who clearly doesn’t fit the color scheme. She is wearing an oversized, yellow sleeveless top, which even covers her butt, and her bright, white-blonde hair sticks out like a candle in the dark night. With her lying prone on a brand new, excessively large couch, one might assume that she is sleeping. It’s all an act of course.
Scoot over to her and tap her cheek. You have to tap it a couple of times, like an old button to make her brown orbs appear. They are so perfectly round, perfectly big, you could get lost in them.
“Hello, how was your sleep, beautiful?”
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“I didn’t sleep,” she responds, her voice deep and sexy. 
“Well, this definitely sounds like your morning voice.”
“Actually,” she responds and pulls up the sleeveless top to just above her wide hips and firm butt. “I’ve been waiting for you. I bet you don’t care about the couch and just want to test me out.”
“Actually,” you whisper, mimicking her deep voice with your own husky tone. “I’m only here for business reasons. It’s just testing the couch, nothing more.”
“Such a tease,” she complains when you press down your shaft on her back entrance. “You—ah, fuck—you can just tell me that I am hot.”
“All I know is that your ass is hot, damn,” you groan up into the air. There is happiness over yet another tight hole to fuck, but also a considerable amount of leftover pain from your cock getting treated like the prey of an anaconda. This mixture of feelings makes for a surreal experience where you find yourself holding back from pouding this young woman senseless because you couldn’t handle it. 
“Ts,” she hisses. “You s-s-slide into me, not ask-ing for my name, and then you don’t even do your jo-job, ah!”
“I’d call this couch an inferior bed,” you suddenly say to the camera, making sure the slut below you is stimulated enough to not interrupt you. “It does not have the charme as the old ones and it lacks character. You would need to fuck on it a couple of times to give the right vibe, you know? Other than that, it’s comfy and big, so if you need space, while fucking each other—I’d still recommend a bed, to be honest.
“I also recommend you telling me your name, so I can deliberately not moan it.”
Bunch the blonde waves up and pull them back, not to hurt her, but to let her know that she was the one you were talking about. With tears in her eyes and a pained smile between her pink cheeks, she turns to look at you.
“Y-you’re so mean. What if I ju-just want to be loved?”
“Then you came to the wrong place, whore. I’m all about couches, really.”
“D-damn, that sucks. I’m Jinsoul by the way.”
“That was the weirdest time for you to tell me your name, you know that?”
Jinsoul murmurs and tries to avoid your eyes, but you force her head to stay close to yours. Something about her acted stupidity, paired with that illegally hot voice makes you want to ravish her more. There is nothing to be said about this couch, it’s mid and that’s it, but Jinsoul is quite intriguing. Unfortunately, the scene is not supposed to play out in a way that would reveal more about her. 
You can change that however. Who would stop you? The director with his raging boner, too occupied to look at the footage that you've already filmed? Certainly not. Thus you take matters into your own hands.
"So you want to be loved, Jinsoul? Appreciated, admired, cared for? Why should I? I've had sex with countless porn stars; you'd have to make a pretty good case for yourself."
Stop your thrusts to let Jinsoul think, adapt to the changed style of the scene, to not make things awkward for the viewers or you. With an elegant flip, she sends her hair flying and presents to you her side profile.
"Have you ever seen a jaw this sharp?" she asks expectantly. "I'm sure it can cut itself into your heart."
You can't hide your amusement at Jinsoul's shenanigans and give her slow, deep thrusts that press her abdomen deep into the fabric. She moans happily when you nuzzle close to her, cheek to cheek. It'd be somewhat romantic if it weren't for the large 4k cam right in your face.
"You're a whole package, I'll give you that," you praise the woman below you. "Don't compare yourself all the time though. It can really harm your self-worth."
"Oh, now you're saying sweet words. I don't have to compare myself, I'm just that good, thank you very much."
"I think you love yourself enough, no need to inflate your ego more."
Hanging out with Jinsoul must be a fun time, she is very chill, can take a joke and has her own kind of humor. It just gets better when you have skinship with her. Let the viewers’ imagination play out the fuck buddies to lovers story with her, you’re just an insert.
Jinsoul clenches her butthole with excellent timing. The jolts of your pelvis onto her buttocks are met with firm resistance which urges you to go a tad bit faster until she clenches less and just lets her normal tightness do the job of giving you both pleasure.
For her this pleasure ends in a loud climax, not because she is a screamer, but because her pussy squirts hot liquid like a geyser. She has marked the couch, it's hers now. The smell won't go away, which you would definitely appreciate as her boyfriend. Jinsoul smells of sex, of playfulness, of want, always willing to go for another round.
You'd gladly go again with her, but you have to pull out. That's the only thing that consistently happens, apart from the annoying switching of rooms which appears to have ended. Jinsoul's room was the last one on this floor. 
Next to it is a wall with a mirror which spans from the marble tiles to the ceiling and across the entire length of the floor. You curiously inspect it.
“I have to be honest, but I haven’t even noticed this until now. Putting this mirror here is a brilliant idea, it tricks you into thinking the corridor is twice the actual length. Anyways, I’m not here to test mirrors now, am I?”
“No,” someone responds in a frisky, feisty voice and you turn your head to look at her. “You’re here to film with me.”
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The director, the staff members, basically everyone but the one cameraman who has been filming you this entire time stayed in Jinsoul’s room, so it’s obvious who said it. You would have noticed her anyways, even among a crowd of hundreds she sticks out. Long, slim legs that seem to never end have her high above most women you’ve met during your Asia Tour. Add to those legs a body wrapped in a luxurious black suit and an equally luxurious face plus the most expensive MiuMiu handbag on the market, and you got yourself a princess. 
“Nice to meet you, Wonyoung,” you grin down at her. “It’s a pleasure to finally film something with you.”
“Likewise,” she reciprocates with a disinterested, skeptical smile, before looking down to your crotch. “Though I have to admit… I thought you would wear, well, something different—anything!”
“Now, now, no time for drama. I thought you knew about Just Testing.” 
“Yeah,” she taps the tip of her white high-boots on the floor in slight annoyance. “but I also thought that you’d make an exception, because, you know, I’m here today.”
The implicitness in her tone leaves you stunned. She is demanding of people she has never met before, and it’s a natural thing for her. For her, the concept of rudeness seems to only apply to others—she is Wonyoung after all, she deserves everything. This attitude must have been in the making for quite some time, otherwise she wouldn’t have killed with it in her three debut videos, all high quality, all with guys whimpering and cumming all over themselves. 
Begs the question if her manager told her that you are different from them.
“Oh,” you say surprised and scratch your chin in exaggerated wonder. “So you think that I would dress up right after shooting with, let’s see, ten different women, who couldn’t care less about clothing while we—”
“Are you done?” Wonyoung interrupts, her voice firm and more than slightly annoyed now. She crosses her arms and the handbag slides from her shoulder down to the crook of her elbow. Something about this posture empowers not only her bitchy attitude, but also your desire to, let’s say change it. 
“Why should I be done?” you ask and mimic her posture, though you could never do it with such confident indignation. 
“You think too much, you talk too much. I’d rather have my male colleagues be quiet.”
Like the arrows fired by a skilled archer, your arms find Wonyoung’s slender frame, more accurately, her pits, and you lift her up easily. Enough with her looking down at you when she is literally twenty centimeters smaller. Enough with her inflated ego when she is literally the skinniest woman you’ve seen today. Enough with her spoiled-princess attitude when she is literally begging for your ruining rod—well, she isn’t yet, but you can change that.
“What the fuck are you—hey!”
Turn to the mirror and press her against it. Wonyoung flails and kicks around with her high boots, but she is too high up to reach the ground. Make sure to keep her on exactly this level—below your eyes and above the ground. She is hovering in an uncomfortable limbo and by being so splendidly light, you can keep her there all day long.
“Should I answer your question?” you snark at her livid face. “Or would that be ‘talking too much’?”
“You pathetic, pathetic little creature!” Wonyoung barks back and slams her fists onto your biceps repeatedly. “You have nothing on me—”
“Oh, Wony, you have no idea. This is not school or college where you can bully the smaller girls and get away with it because of your looks. This is also not your debut video, where you get what you want. No. This time, I am the bully.
“Now strip.”
Silence, except for the cameraman scooting around you, filming the enthralling scene with his keen eye for detail. Getting Wonyoung’s face on tape while she scrunches is an easy task, but showing your erect cock poking her abdomen in the same frame is true craftsmanship. 
“How dare yo—”
“Strip, Wony.”
“Don’t call me tha—”
“Then beg. Beg me to put you down again and I’ll call you by your full name, bitchy-princess.”
Wonyoung fights back, harder than before, but her punches are still laughable and her kicks don’t land where she wants them to land. To make her situation even more desperate, you press yourself against her, putting an end to her efforts. The only thing that can free her are those dreadful words that would poison her prideful character.
“Fuck you,” she mouths. “How the hell am I supposed to strip like this?”
“What? You think just because you’re suspended in the air you can’t open the buttons on your suit? I never thought you were this stupid, Wony.”
Though totally unwilling, Wonyoung starts to get the tips of her long fingers to her buttons and pop them open to reveal a plain shirt underneath. After short hesitation and an exasperated eye roll, she goes for the second rows of buttons, opening them slower and slower until she almost stops. 
“Go on,” you say and pin her harder to the mirror. “Or do you need help?”
“Ts, you would ne—”
Wonyoung doesn’t blink in the time it takes you to drop her down and tear open the rest of her shirt. A black lace bra hides her small tits, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. There was no need to wear this many layers for a fucking porno shoot. Oh well, at least you can show Wonyoung and the viewers, who might have skipped the rest to just watch this scene that you’re still the protagonist of this show.
Pull at the bra and somewhere the fabric is unable to resist you. Wonyoung stumbles forward and you let her drop to the floor, straight into the crouching position intended for her. The opened suit and the tatters of her shirt slide down her shoulders, her hands fail to pull them back together to hide her pale collarbone. 
"Why are you so timid now?" you ask and let your fingers run through her hair. "Was all this bitchy attitude fake?"
Up to this point, Wonyoung has been consistent and predictable in her character, as you'd expect from a talented yet experienced rising star. So it really takes you by surprise when she suddenly switches things up and goes off script. She rids herself off the remaining clothes and uses her sudden nudity as a flashbang: too busy gawking at her stunning, slim and slutty frame, you can't stop her from wrapping her lips around your dick.
"What do you think you're doing?" 
"Making you beg. Consider it a deserved punishment."
First your butt, then your entire back firmly falls against the cold surface of the mirror. Wonyoung's tongue not only twirls around your tip, it also makes your head twirl. Your mind shortly spins, spins towards losing control, until you regain control with a rough pull at Wonyoung’s hair. Entangle it more while she cries in pain and has to back off.
“Ouch, fuck, fuck! It hurts, stop!” she screams and fights back the tears in her eyes.
“I said that this is not your debut,” you growl in anger and hit her shivering lips with your rod. “You don’t control anything, and if you don’t start acting like it, I’ll force you to.”
Force her, you do. In a single push you break past her puckered lips, into the depths of her mouth and against the barrier in her throat. Wonyoung flails as she panics, but you just pull her hair harder and begin to rhythmically fuck her face. Her small chin takes slaps from your full balls; after all, you need to make sure that she adjusts to every last inch of your cock. It also feels great to know that this young slut finally gets pulled off of her high horse, and what better way to do it then drag your nuts over her messy face.
“N-no, my-my mascara!” Wonyoung whimpers, but you only need to pull her jaw down a bit to see her tongue flop out and drool on the floor. Fuck her face again for a couple thrusts more so that the camera can catch her throat bulging and gags escaping. 
“You want to fix it?” you ask sarcastically and yank her head to the mirror. “Good thing that we have a mirror right here.”
Wonyoung cries more, the way you’ve ruined her make-up unbearable for her to look at. Instead of looking away however, she continues to stare at herself. She becomes passive, an observer to what you do to her body. The slaps of your cock on her increasingly glossy lips and puffy face don’t affect her, the hair pulling is nothing but a hot visual and the way she deepthroats you makes her pussy twitch. 
“I don’t think you need fixing,” you groan while you poke the inside of her cheek with more gentle thrusts. You join her and the camera by inspecting her top to bottom, from dazed orbs across a small chest to her white boots. Wonyoung has started to spread her legs, hence the incredible view of her prominent abs and tight-looking pussy. 
“Ah, fuck it.”
Smash Wonyoung’s head down on your phallus. The unexpected vigor makes her lose her footing. She falls to her knees, but you continue to slam her down, make her gawk on you. Wonyoung has resigned herself to your heartless, reckless use of her throat and gags mindlessly. Like a fleshlight you jerk her onto you with one thing in mind: a quick climax. 
You have already filmed so much content, had many asses or faces to fuck and maybe fill, but it is only now that you want to finish quickly. The bickering with Wonyoung has been long enough. She has somewhat learned her place, and you want to make sure it sticks in her mind, so you got to give her something sticky. 
The edging session by the nameless girl from before has you hesitant for long enough that you don’t cum deep in Wonyoung’s throat, but in her mouth. Sperm shoots out of you, fills her feisty cheeks and then oozes through the tiny gaps on each side of your cock. Wonyoung is crazy enough to suck some of it in, so you pull out to make her an absolute mess. An avalanche of pearly white runs down her chin and chest, down to her navel. It doesn’t happen in one go, but two, three, four spurts while Wonyoung struggles to swallow and instead gurgles it up.
“You disgusting whore.”
“I-I did not—fuck, there’s s-so much of it.”
“Welcome to being a cum slut, Wony. Next time, I’ll make sure that your cunt looks just like your mouth right now. Fits you better than the bitchy-princess-thing you’re trying to pull.”
You clean your cock by rubbing it over her forehead. Wonyoung’s entire being is frozen, no response, no emotions, no attempts to clean up. Is it still acting at this point? Who knows, it fits what you were going for in this scene. Although you’d really like to hear her thoughts (and maybe get her number), you don’t have time right now. The other cameraman is already filming you walking down the marble hallway, while the co-host walks up to you with applause.
"Bravo! This must be a new record. In such little time you have tested one, two three, four, five, six, seven—"
"Eleven," you interrupt him. "Eleven sessions of testing."
"Which is amazing, but are you up for the challenge and ready to continue right now?" He looks at you expectantly, but you just walk past him with determination.
"It seems that you don’t know me. Of course I’m ready.”
“Splendid. Please follow me outside and listen closely because we will spice things up a bit.” You follow him closely through the familiar dressing room and then an inconspicuous door you haven’t noticed during your preparations. “Are you familiar with our Role Playing Game?”
“The game where you give a prompt and I have to adapt my behavior to it?”
“Exactly. I need you to be focused, because we will play four rapid fire rounds,” he says, the last doorknob firmly in his hand. “Right behind this metal door, is the outside. Don’t worry, we have guaranteed privacy—”
“Dammit—I mean…”
That one was for the show, though you have to admit that public sex with the possibility of someone catching you and either getting extremely flustered, angry or aroused is a huge turn-on for you. But these companies always make sure to rent private property, hidden gardens or those fake buses for the shootings. No one will even sniff a hint of the juices your going to fuck out of the women on the next view sets.
“Well then, too bad for you,” the co-host brings you back from your dreams and starts to read from his cue card. “Here is the first prompt: Never having played golf before.
“And action!”
Push through the door and get greeted by the bright, warm rays of sunlight beaming from above. Beneath your bare toes, the cold marble from before pales in comparison to the soft grass you now walk on. It’s not any kind of grass either; it’s the light green grass of a tiny golf course, complete with starting spot, sand bunker and putting green. On said putting green lies a woman in a green and white golfing outfit, surrounded by a colorful palette of golf balls. She holds a golfing club upside down in one hand, the other suddenly points at you.
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“You there!” she shouts. “Come here, I need your help.”
“How can I help you, Miss…”
“I’m Sooyoung and I have a confession to make: I have no idea how to play golf, but I’d really like to try.”
“Well,” you say awkwardly and scratch the back of your head. “I only know the basics of golf, so I might not be a big help, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Sooyoung cheerfully smiles, fitting for her pretty features. “We’ll find out together. I believe you are a big help already. Tell me what you know.”
“I think golf is about putting something into a hole,” you claim and then claim the position behind Sooyoung.
“Hm, there is a hole right here,” Sooyoung notes as she gathers the balls around her in sweeping motions of her arm and then hastily rolls them into the deep golfing hole. “But it’s already stuffed.”
“Well, here is a hole that is not yet stuffed.” Pull up the hem of Sooyoung’s skirt and spread her cheeks to reveal a puckered, clenching entrance. “Maybe this is the correct one.”
“You should go first. You’re the sexper—I mean expert on gol-f-ing.”
Sooyoung has a special place in your heart already. Her lines on paper were underwhelming, but the way she casually rolls them off of her tongue has you enjoying things until now. Her initial moans only increase the respect you have for her, as they sound more like someone being in awe because they're seeing their favorite sport for the first time than someone getting her ass penetrated. Her experience in acting shows.
“Oh damn,” she giggles. “So this is golfing. I-I think I have to get used to it first.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised too. I did not know the hole would actually keep it inside. I thought you could just pull out and play again.”
“Maybe noobs have to live with only playing one round~”
What a perfect tease, you can’t deny that. Not bitchy and demanding, more a challenge to spur you on and get the best out of you. Sooyoung is somewhat like a coach that fires you up—what fires you up further is her tight asshole relaxing, getting ready for a couple more rounds.
“Well, I think I have to repeatedly train to go from noob to a respectable amateur,” you groan and start to move your hips up and down in a pistoning motion. 
“Yes, yes! L-let’s train together to have more fun at golfing.”
Sooyoung gradually sways her ass thus you poke all over her insides. She finds a spot that she likes your cock to violate and pulls her cheeks apart to announce it. Something about ‘a bigger hole makes playing easier’ was in the script, but the two of you are too caught up in pleasure to add it here. That does not mean that Sooyoung has given up on playing her role yet.
“Oh yes! I-I think you just got a hole-in-one!”
“That do-does… is… not on par with my golf knowledge.”
Sooyoung digs her teeth into her lip to not laugh, not cum at exactly this moment. Unfortunately for her, you have different plans and drill your cock a faster than she was able to handle before. The woman below you rocks back and forth on the grass, both sets of lips leaking. It’s a last second orgasm for her because—
“Round 1 is over” the co-host mouths barely in your field of view. You pull your cock out of Sooyoung’s ass and don’t fight the urge to give her cheeks tiny slaps with your cock. After that, the crew is already urging you to move away from the golfing course. Your co-host points to a spot behind what is supposed to look like the hidden corner of a school yard with hedge-like bushes, construction fences and trash baskets. 
“The second prompt,” the co-host shouts from behind the cameras. “A sexual agreement, gone wrong!”
Get into character. Hide behind the bushes and look for anyone who might pass by. Every movement, may it be just a gust of wind, makes you jump. You’re on your toes, ready to run away if one of the professors passes by. Luckily, you don’t have to wait any longer. 
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“Sorry,” a girl dressed in tight, rebellious attire, a short red skirt and a cropped varsity jacket whimpers in between huffs and puffs. Her take on the local school uniform must leave every professor speechless and enraged. “I got scolded by the math prof and she just didn’t stop.”
“Jeez, at least try to sneak here,” you scold here while putting a construction fence next to the wall as an extra barrier. “What if someone saw you. Gaeul, I swear to God, these bitches have a bad influence on you,”
“Oh, and you don’t, huh?” Gaeul crosses her arms. “And don’t call them bitches, okay? Yujin and Liz are my friends!”
“They are tyrants and only see you as a minion to do their stuff. How many times have you gotten in trouble for them?” Gaeul stays silent, looking at you angrily, though there is a hint of longing in her eyes. “See, I told you they were no good.”
“You’re no good either. Look what we’re about to do.”
“But it was your idea, Gaeul. I didn’t ask you to eat your pussy after classes.”
Gaeul rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue at your words. A faint blush on her cheeks however betrays her. You have no doubt that she is greedy to get your tongue inside her. You love her for this confidence and you despise that she always gets away with it.
“So? Will you finally eat me, pretty please?” Gaeul tries to imitate the shy virgin she surely isn’t and you’ve had it with her antics. Watch her put a finger into her short hair, it’s color the same as the hazelnuts underneath your toes, and curl the hair playfully. You want to do the same.
“Nah, I’m actually pretty pissed,” you tell her and step closer. “So how about we play rock, paper, scissors. One round, whoever loses has to pleasure the other first.”
“You mean to tell me that I have to suck you off?”
“Can’t be that weird to you, considering what we do so often—or are you scared to get caught with cock in your pretty little mouth?”
“N-no, of course not,” Gauel stutters and pulls the finger out of her messy hair. “I’ll win anyways.”
A tense face off, both contestants have their fists stretched from their body. As the rhythmic saying starts, they both swing their arms side to side rapidly until the final word reaches its final syllable and the two hands explode into their respective symbols—that’s probably how a commentator would describe the match.
Gaeul has two of her fingers spread apart to show scissors. You on the other hand kept your fist compacted in a solid block. Your rock smashes Gaeul’s unstable scissors, though she tries to stab you with them by going to town on your chest.
“You. Fucking. Bastard.”
“Calm down, I’ll eat you out afterwards. Now stop being a sore loser and get down.”
Make sure she can only keep eye contact while starring skywards. The height difference is incredible, Gaeul can’t help but gulp. But maybe that gulp was because she puts her hand under your cock and cannot imagine it fitting inside her mouth. 
“F-fine.”
Gaeul hesitantly squats down, gives you a glance that speaks volumes to how much she just wants to get licked and tongue fucked. She puts a lot on the line for your wet muscles entering her cunty-cave and wiggling inside it. She might not look forward to a big career after college life is over, but she still has a strong sense of honor and cares for her public perception. Getting caught like this is a substantial risk.
Gaeul slowly opens her mouth, your cock resting on her lower lip. Deep breaths widen and narrow her nostrils, her hands don’t know what to hold onto. In your bedroom, she is not this cautious and her pace is far from that of a fucking snail, so you get a hold of her head and push her onto your rod.
“My God, Gaeul,” you groan, finally not the dry air, but gentle wetness around your tip. “You’re getting on my nerves. Do it on your own, or you can forget about the agreement.”
Your hands get swatted away and in rage, Gaeul bops her head up and down over the first third of your cock. This is much more to your liking, similar to how fast she does it while you’re sitting on your bed. If she continues and you get a sweet release, she certainly qualifies for passionate nibbles around her clit, while you do everything in your power to make her drown you in sweet girl-cum.
God, Gaeul tastes so damn sweet, you could talk about it all day every day, but at this moment, your mind is too occupied with focusing on her taking more inches with slower bops. Gaeul gurgles and spits, a sudden gust of wind forces goosebumps all over your skin. Coldness on your cock, then the warm mouth, is she planning this?
“Fuck, this is good,” you coo and try to pat Gaeul’s beautiful short hair, but she stares you down, her gaze a great threat, although you don’t know what she could actually do to you. You’re a lot taller, stronger, calculated—but she has her teeth very close to your cock. Makes you think.
“Excuse me, hello? What are you doing there?”
Oh fuck, someone found you. You peek over the hedge and see a professor of almost equal height look right back at you. He approaches the hedge from the other side with this cliche look of an angry, unstable teacher approaching what they assume is students breaking rules—and you’re not only breaking petty rules, but also damn laws.
Gaeul has a natural reaction and hopes to quickly get you out of her mouth and try to look as innocent as possible, which is absolutely futile because you're fully naked and you actually reach for the back of her head. ‘What are you fucking doing?’ her eyes scream when you shove her back down until the professor reaches the construction fence.
“You kids these days think you’re allowed to do anything, huh?” 
He frantically shakes the metal beams as your legs copy their motions, but before you can cream into Gaeul’s still sloppily licking mouth, you have to abort everything. Get out of Gaeul, out of the unveiled hideout, out of the scene. 
“The third prompt,” the co-host announces in something resembling euphoria as he pulls your arm to a camping van. “Trying to sell a van in only one minute!”
There is no time to breathe, it all has to happen fast. To switch from one character to the other might be well-prepared, but you can never underestimate how hard it actually is. Turn to the camera, treat it like a person you’re trying to convince, like you’re selling them a motorized vehicle, not the illusion that is this video. 
“This van is our flagship product. It comes in two colors: black and silver, but I’m sure you do not care about the exterior. Height, width and weight are all in the manual that you will get later on. The real gem of this model is inside it. Please follow me.”
Step up a tiny ladder into the van’s cozy interior, with a tiny kitchen area in the back, an even smaller toilet room in the back and a mattress that basically fills out the rest. No one would be convinced that this design is sensical or practical at all, if it wasn’t for the naked woman lying on top of the mattress.
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“This van has got everything, but I’m sure you have heard this phrase everywhere, so I will tell you why exactly our product is superior. If you travel the world as two or three or maybe even four, you have enough space to sleep on and do other activities, like this.”
You climb up on the bed and give Hwasa’s fat ass a couple of rubs before you find her familiar hole and drill yourself inside. You know from previous sessions with her that anal makes her hum for some reason and that these hums suddenly turn to deep, deadly groans, which could either scare the customer off or attract them even more. Anyways, you don’t have time, so speed up.
“No matter how hard you like to do it, no matter—oh fuck—how loud you are, no one will hear you. Imagine being alone in the woods, loving the sun, nature, life itself—and then fucking your brains out like rabbits. You get what I mean? Isn’t this feeling worth so much?”
For the camera, you’re begging the customer for money. In your head, you’re begging for Hwasa’s butthole to not squeeze you too tightly. She wrings out so many men, has them cum all over her smooth, sun-kissed skin, but for you she is extra tight. At this point you might be stuck, and you’re not talking about what’s next in the script.
Your hands move to Hwasa’s shoulder, pin her down while you jackhammer her hole deep, widen it with the entire circumference of your dick to the point the van starts to vibrate throughout. Suddenly, the camera slowly backs off. You should give the customer a final catchphrase to make sure they’ll call back soon to get the van and all its features. Hwasa fights the script and wraps one of her strong arms around your neck to keep you right there, motionless inside her for a few seconds longer.
“F-fuck, I need to—”
“Fuck the director, really,” Hwasa groans back, but you can’t stay. No, no, no, you really can’t, yet it’s quite scary to tell her that. Given that she is small, you can just run away—again. Storm out of the van under the angry roar of Hwasa, right to the awaiting co-host.
“Prompt four?” you ask, pretending to be joking and out of breath.
“Well, yeah, there is a fourth prompt. Right at this wall.”
He points to one of the outside walls of the hotel, which has been painted to resemble… something. You actually care too little about this detail, the hard cobblestones below you are a much bigger issue to you. They feel uncomfortable to stand on. At least you can rely on your fellow actress to deliver. She’s already leaning on the colorful stripes painted on the wall’s paneling, immersed in her role. 
“The fourth prompt: the rent is due and she has no money. Go!”
“Hey, Ms. Wang!” You jump into character without warning, making Yiren’s shocked reaction a genuine one. “You’re late on your payment, again. This is the third time already this year, for fucks sake, it’s not even June yet!”
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“Please calm down, y-you will get it soon,” Yiren tries to bargain for more time. She tends to get out of trouble with her charms, her cute, small face for example, but she has crossed all of your red lines already. She will pay up now or suffer the consequences, legal or illegal ones.
“No, I wanted it a week ago. You know I give everyone an extra week all the time, but you’re the only one who needs it regularly, and today I’ve had it. I woke up, checked the bank, and you still haven’t paid! This is the last straw, Ms. Wang.”
“I-I’m sorry, okay? It’s been rough, I couldn’t get the mon—”
“We had an agreement! Fuck it, either you leave until Friday or I’ll kick you out myself.”
“No, please!” Yiren drops to her knees and lowers her head. “Please don’t kick me out, I-I can only stay here!”
“I don’t want to hear any weak excuses, I just want my money,” you groan and turn away from her. 
“I don’t have any money. Y-you can check, it’s all gone.”
“Then you should leave, Ms. Wang, no need to make this ugly.”
“I-is there no way…”
Yiren looks up to you with perfect timing to catch your gaze at her mesmerizingly marvelous features.
“...I can pay you differently this time?”
“What do you mean?” 
Raise an eyebrow when Yiren begins to squat before you and grins lewdly. 
“I can make you want me forever. All I need is this.”
Her fingers go for your base, they glide alongside it, then down to your balls. Wordlessly, she then adds her lips to them, only for a moment, until she wanders to your thigh and places kisses all over it. To show approval, you rake her slightly damp hair with your sweaty hand. An odor of strawberry and salt faintly stimulates your senses. Yiren was in the shower not too long ago, she is a lot cleaner than you are. Go figure, after fourteen scenes a couple of scents are bound to stick on you like a layer of lustful perfume. 
“This is indeed good,” you whisper and nod in the pattern Yiren strokes your base. “But it’s not yet worth the rent of your flat.”
“I haven’t even started yet, Sir.”
A final kiss on your now lipstick-covered thigh, then Yiren jumps to your tip to proceed with the much smaller, much more sensitive surface. Her delicate strawberry lips part a little for the smooches she so tenderly uses to get your blood out of your head into your head. It’s very effective.
“Wow, I did not know you could suck cock like a hungry whore.”
“How did you think I make my money?”
“Honest work?”
Yiren chuckles. It’s adorable, her outer appearance as a whole is, but apparently the rumors about her were true. As her landlord, it could cost you a lot of money if you keep falling for her skills after this one session. Maybe it’s her strategy to get new customers, and you have fallen for it like a fool.
“Wait a second,” you hiss just when Yiren is about to suck you in deeper. “Why didn’t you just make money then? Who would reject such a woman if she was offering herself.”
Yiren simply shrugs.
“I was just lazy, I guess. This cock right here will save me so much money.”
“And what if you’re all talk and I say you haven’t deserved it yet.”
“That’s not going to happen, Sir.”
Is Yiren really up to the challenge? To say that the answer is a doubtless ‘yes’ is still an understatement to how fucking good she actually is. Millions of people have rolled their tongue along and around a swollen glans, yet none have mastered it the way this chinese beauty has. Everywhere her tongue touches, it doesn’t matter if it’s the underside or the topside, bursts of pleasure electrify your nervous system. 
“Oh, shit.”
Take a step back, search for the wall with your hand to find stability during Yiren’s knee-shaking, mind-melting blowjob. There is not much to see for everyone watching this, thus you have to go all out with your reactions. You know Yiren is not the best at taking it deep down, you have to work around it; luckily, she knows how to.
“I see you like it?” Yiren laughs with casual confidence, slapping you against her lips before finding your balls with them. Your cock rests upon her forehead, yet her eyes still try to stare at it. She crosses them while slobbering all over your perineum area. “Isn’t this so much better than rent?”
“You fucking hooker, fuck,” you groan with no need to exaggerate your volume for the cameras which capture both your and Yiren’s point of view perfectly. It’s going to end up in a wild porno, however you can’t deny the craftsmanship that goes into getting the pictures. Ah, don’t kid yourself: if it weren’t for all these girls being so hot and your dick being this long, no one would spend their hard earned money on this.
“Our customer service can also finish the job,” Yiren says with the voice of a skilled saleswoman, her skilled hands giving you a sample of what she can provide.
“I-I think I’ll have to come back then.”
“Does this mean you’re satisfied with the new way of collecting rent?”
“Ah, fuck, yes. Fuck you, you fucking hooker.”
A cheerful eye-smile and a pop to free your sack ends the scene with Yiren. Your stint of acting while acting was a short, stamina-draining one, though the self-immersion in these dumb characters has helped you keep the second load for later. These four vixen might have been great, but ‘cumming without control’ was never part of any of the prompts. Those viewers who like to see an orgasm to finish themselves off still have to wait and edge. Good boys and girls. 
“Are we going back in?” you ask the co-host who skips towards an emergency door on the far end of the hotel.
“Yes, yes! We, no, you have so much left to test. Please go to the booth on the right.”
He is filled with a sense of hype, maybe it’s all the sex clouding his mind in horniness. As long as he does his job, there should be no problem. You do as he says, finding a booth about the size of the rooms from before. There is a huge lamp on the ceiling for proper lighting and a cozy carpet on the floor for proper testing. It has the color and smell of lavender—or is it the girl under the lamp that smells like the famous flower? 
“Nice to meet you,” you greet the girl with her lavender colored lips and skirt, though the tightly wrapped piece of clothing is a stronger shade of purple. It resembles lavender the best, now that you think about it.
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“H-hi,” she stutters and waves her hand in tiny. “My n-name is Rei, I’m from Ja-Japan.”
“You are a very attractive woman, Rei, the make-up looks great on you, just like the buns.” You flood her with compliments, your charm does the rest. Rei’s tense shoulders relax a bit, and they stay relaxed when you step closer to her, 
“Th-thank you, that’s very nice of you.”
“Are you nervous?”
Rei’s trembling hands move to the hem of her skirt and she loosens it to show her hairy pussy. Her thighs are too big, they keep the skirt from falling all the way down. 
“A bit, yes, but I really want this.”
Rei points to your cock which starts to poke her tummy, a few centimeters above her hidden clit. You place your hands on her sides and delicately spin her around. To your surprise, Rei not only has monumental breasts, which sadly are not your focus today, her buttocks are also round and firm, definitely well-trained. 
“You’re excited?” you ask her, fingers running circles on her ass. “I know I am, your body is very ruinable, perfect for testing.”
“Y-yes. Pl-please be gentle with m-my a-ass.”
“I will, trust me. Just relax and lay down.”
Rei’s curvaceous body sinks into the thick, fluffy carpet, which, to your surprise, might actually work very well as a surface to fuck on. Align yourself with Rei’s booty, which could also be described as thick and fluffy, and before penetrating her tight ring, you lean close to her ear.
“You’re still not fully relaxed, Rei,” you coo, your thumb drawing circles on her painted cheek. 
“I-I’m trying—”
“Don’t try. Take deep breaths. Tell me what you like, and we can make it work, hm?”
Rei takes deep breaths under your touch, her bountiful bosom heaves for what could be an amazing visual. The camera only catches her cleavage and her tongue starting to protrude from her lips.
“I la-la-la-like my tongue being played with,” Rei hums timidly, but you show no hesitation and move your fingers inside her mouth. Wiggle her tongue in between them and feel her hot breath graze them while you graze the immaculate ass crack. 
With a reminder to be gentle, you insert yourself into Rei. About half of your cock fits inside of her, then she starts to bite down on your fingers. You hiss, but try not to make too much of a show out of it. With slow thrusts you let her asshole get used to the new sensation that is your length and width. 
Rei’s expression must be one for the ages, as the cameraman filming her face seems absolutely thrilled about the footage he is getting. It might just be Rei’s charm or make-up, who knows what these crazy guys like. They have seen it all, over and over again, to the point where they can only feel something when you hit them with a baseball bat.
“How does it feel, Rei?” you ask her without stopping your rhythm-less short thrusts.
“V-very big, very good, ah! I-I can feel all of you.”
“But… I’m not even all the way in.”
“What?”
You feel Rei’s jaw drop and take the opportunity to explore her mouth more. Your fingers roam and fiddle everything they can find, making Rei fall into a haze. 
“Should I put it all the way in?” 
You hold yourself back from slamming down, waiting for Rei to groan her response past your fingers. It’s to your liking.
“Yesh, pleash. I can tak it.”
Can’t deny a lady her request, especially not one so urgent and easy to fulfill. With pleasure your tip searches for your pleasure, her pleasure, in an apparently endless cavern of pressure—it’s not the first you’ve explored today. They are all unique, special in their own way, narrow goodness that engrains onto the skin of your thoroughly used cock.
“You’re doing so good, Rei, I’m so proud of you. Having sex on a carpet is great, but you made it unforgettable.”
“Th—ha, oh my~” 
Swear to God you slipped. No, really, you wanted to retreat from the darkest part of the cavern, but then your knee was unstable on the carpet and you gave Rei a hard jolt. It luckily ended in her moaning stupidly and not flailing and crying. 
“I think I’ll have to pull out, sorry about that.”
“I-I love it, th-thank you!”
Another girl you made addicted to anal; it’s a great feeling to convey to an unsuspecting, silly audience who at this point has surely lost their mind at the insane length and scope of this episode. You will treat them to so much more, which is why you hurry to find the next actress. 
You begin to recognize her from afar, the long, slender frame, covered in torn fishnets and overall skimpy clothing. Her lips are crimson red, her tied-up hair black and blonde—
—the massive choker around her throat is the final detail, absolutely crucial to your kinky plan.
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“There will never be a day where I am not ready to fuck you, Yoohyeon.”
“Wow,” she replies in shock. “I have never been greeted this rudely. Have these girls made you stupid?”
“Get down and pray that these shoes will keep you from falling, because I won’t.”
You reach for the back of her choker and roughly yank it. In short bursts Yoohyeon loses her connection to the fresh air surrounding her. Things get worse for her oxygen flow when you shove your cock into her mouth without interrupting the strangulation. 
Instantaneously, Yoohyeon is a crying, gagging mess, her humanity turned off in favor of the primal instinct to survive. However, she is not strong enough to break free, your cock is like a constant pendulum swinging deep into her throat. From the outside, the ring of her choker helps you with stimulation. It presses right on your slit, milking some of your clear and salty precum out. 
“If your girl is a freak like Yoohyeon,” you address the camera, still lost in Yoohyeon’s empty, glassy gaze. “Make sure to switch, switch, switch things up. Become unhinged, unpredictable, unstoppable. Do stuff like this!”
Grab Yoohyeon’s ponytail and rapidly move her head in circles, creating a wet tornado of saliva when you pull out. The constant forced motion makes it fly everywhere. Yoohyeon voices her dizziness with shrieks, which will not become words.
“Or this.”
Smack her right cheek with the back of your hand, it slips right off due to all the tears and runny make-up. This time, you not only shove your cock all the way in, you also move forward. Yoohyeon has to lean backwards further then she ever has during her face fucks. Her many scenes did not prepare her for this, her large boots start to lose her grip.
“Show her your new side and why you’re special,” you end your demonstration and the camera catches how Yoohyeon falls over, free from your filling cock, searching for air. Before she can complain or ask for more, you must flee.
Sneak away, around the corner, it’s just a couple of steps into what appears to be a dark alley. Three beds are placed on one side, different sizes, different styles, and opposite of them are three very different doors. One looks like it leads to the room of a young, single woman still living with her parents. She is too lazy to change the pink door with the Hello Kitty stickers from her childhood, so it stays. The second door has a hostel vibe to it. Brown color has been painted on it and now flakes off along with the century old mold below it. The last door looks like it has been stolen out of a world famous hotel. It’s the color of marble, has gold ornaments neatly spread around and the number ‘30’ is in the center of it. 
“What the fuck is this?” you think out loud, hearing the footsteps of multiple people behind you.
“Hey, y-you’re too quick,” the co-host complains from behind. “Let me explain what’s about to happen here.”
“I’m all ears. Seriously though, why can’t we just go back to the real hotel rooms? Did you really have to steal a door from the hostel across the street? And what about the—”
“A-nyways!” the co-host interjects with an awkward laugh and swipes his hands like windshield wipers. “We need your expert opinion on these three models. Their sheets are the same, the differences not as obvious—”
“What are you talking about?” you complain. “You don’t need an expert for this. We have a big bed, then a small bed and then a bigger bed, end of story.”
“J-just lay down on the first one, you’ll get it very soon.”
You cut some corners in the dialogue, which is mostly because you didn’t want to torture the dear viewers with terrible jokes—something with bet, bad and bed, makes you want to throw your career away. Without further instructions you climb into the first bed, wrap yourself in a blanket and pretend to sleep. Yup, this is a bed alright. Literally your everyday bed, nothing too fancy, nothing that could annoy you. 
“Okay what do you want me to say about this?” The camera catches your annoyed eye-roll. “Am I test-sleeping now?”
“Far from it. Yena, it’s your turn.”
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The pink door opens, a girl in a white hoodie and short, plaid skirt walks into the scene and before you can blink twice, she is in the bed with you, pretending to use it like it’s hers. For a minute you watch her, as she plays on her phone, rolls around a bit and then suddenly decides to fiddle her panties out from underneath the skirt. 
You see erotic videos pop up on her phone screen. Yena starts to caress her thighs, rub the shaven area near her clit, never daring to go all in. She bites her lips as overacted moans screech from the old speakers on her phone. This is not doing it for her—even the overstimulated consumer who is still watching your video knows. Luckily, she has what she needs right behind her.
Wordlessly, you bunch up her skirt and search for her puckered hole. Yena instinctively lifts up one of her legs. She winks at you before her mouth opens wide in a moan that echoes through the hallway. Finally she has what the women on the screen have: a large cock in her ass. In the video she basically sees what’s happening to her rectum. You stretch it apart, widen her hole, a new entrance for pleasure.
“What are you waiting for?” you devilishly growl into Yena’s ear. “Use your fingers, and I’ll promise that you’ll cum harder than her.”
It is with ridiculously perfect timing (like there was a script) that the porn star on Yena’s screen loses control of her body, it rocks and jerks in all directions as the cock stops fucking into it. You know that Yena takes a close look at the actress's face, covered in sweat and happiness when her fingers dive to her clit.
“Yes, please, make me cum,” she begs, out of breath from her own touch, your pelvis hitting her butt and your cock stuffing her hole. 
Reach for the leg Yena struggles to keep up in the air and use it as a lever to slam faster into her. Meanwhile Yena’s fingers are eager to quickly send her over the edge in what can only be described as the best of two worlds. Her small, cute thumb is slow and soft, treating her clit with utmost care, while the rest plunges and curls inside her wetness recklessly, harsher than you would allow yourself to treat her. You can even feel her rub you from the other side and figure that you’re just a prop now, a dildo for Yena to masturbate with. 
“Ah, I’m so close, God, I’m cuuuuummmmmiiiiing!”
Okay, she definitely watched too much porn and read the wrong kind of fanfiction to have such a ludicrous, forced reaction. You’re not here to judge her, so you hold her slutty waist steady and thrust up until Yena’s body mimics that of her idols. She trembles uncontrollably, moans, screams, her eyes roll back—the entire porno-package—basically your life in a nutshell. 
“Finger yourself stupid,” you command. Yena does not notice that you're suddenly absent from her gaping hole, she is too engaged in what she can do to herself without anyone’s assistance. The crew films glimpses of Yena still going at it, cunt pierced open, clit hard and clearly protruding. 
“No, I’m cuuuummming agaainnnnnnnn, ahhhhhh!”
That’s enough for you. Jump onto the next bed without much care, it creaks and squeaks, the springs feel old and used. This won’t be the first time someone fucks on this mattress. At least they changed the sheets before letting you test it. You also can’t deny their attention to detail: this bed clearly fits the vibe and feel of an old, suspicious hostel.
“This is not comfortable, ouch,” you whine to the camera, half acted, half serious. “No one intended that two people would use this bed at the same time, but at the same time I really think that no one ever slept here alone. If they did, poor soul.”
“What if we let you sleep in there alone?” the co-host asks and wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m just kidding—”
“And I’m just testing!” 
Kill me. Not now, but after this shoot, make sure to shoot me.
“Sua, it’s your turn!”
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The ancient door opens, a woman in a yellow crop top and a skirt with teddy bears and blueberry muffins printed on it walks into the scene and before you can blink twice, she is in the bed with you, pretending to use it like she’s owning it for the night. For a minute you watch her, the toned muscles on her back, her biceps, her spotless legs, until she pulls dark glasses out of her even darker hair. 
“You know what beds like this and nights like these are for,” she suddenly sighs, putting the glasses on her pointy nose. “Don’t keep me waiting, boy, or I’ll make you see stars.”
The contortion of disgust on Sua’s features make her already attractive face an illegal amount hotter. The glasses add a surprising touch, the pictures really do not do her justice. Move your hands underneath the shorts and they are no more, discarded in the room like Yena, who still masturbates. 
“This is better,” Sua hums, nodding in approval at the alignment of your erection. “Come, give me a kiss.”
Natural is the way your lips go down to get hers. Sua has the tone of a demanding teacher, who uses strictness and rewards to get the best out of her disciples. The notion of being above her because you have a greater pool of experience fades when she takes the lead. Your thrusts, their strength and their speed are under Sua’s full control. 
“Lower. Lower. No, not there.”
She smacks your collarbone, threatens to pull you down by the throat if you don’t get your act together. The bed is long forgotten, Sua’s pleasure comes first. To hear her moan is a completely different feeling, the gratification not connected to the tightness around your rod, but the knowledge that you’re doing it right.
“That’s the spot, yes.”
“Should I go faster?”
“A little bit. Be careful not to slip out.”
“I won’t.”
Things are a lot calmer, quieter, not the kind of content you usually produce. Being approved by the producers, you trust that this is what at least someone likes to see: slow sex, low moans, hands respectfully resting on the other's body—and of course Yena’s sounds of blissful self-love in the background.
“I won’t say a positive thing about this shitty bed,” you speak towards one of the microphones, noticing that the cameramen are occupied with getting Sua’s ass and her face on tape. “I can only say positive things about this woman though, she—”
“Shhh, I don’t want to hear it. Keep on fucking, that’s a lot better.”
She is goddamn right, it is better. Sometimes even a talking head like you has to shut up and do the part of your job you’re actually good at. Your muscles start to feel the wear and tear of the intense session you’ve powered through to get here. Sua’s wish for you to keep the same pattern does not help, you need some way to let loose, or else your stamina will run out before you’ve reached the end.
“Fuck it, I’m going in!” a voice suddenly shouts from another room. Though it may be subdued, you can hear the neediness in it. 
The luxurious door opens, a woman in a thin, way too short emerald dress and beige high-heels walks into the scene and before you can blink twice, she is in the bed next to you, combing her blonde strands with her hands. For a second you watch her and the bratty look of defiance on her face. 
‘Somi, get the fuck back here’ one of the crew members mouths, you see him flailing his arms angrily in the corner of your eye. Also in the corner of your eye is Somi sticking out her tongue to the guy, whose face turns every shade of red and blue until he gives up and leaves the set. Finally there is some chaos here, time to use your impromptu acting charm to save this mess.
“Excuse me for a second,” you whisper to Sua, stroking along her raven hair. “I have to do something asap. I’ll be back.”
“Sure,” she groans quietly.
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“Hey, you!” you address Somi and walk along the massive bed. “Who are you and what are you doing on this bed?”
“I’m Somi.” A bitchy smirk. “And I have claimed this bed, sorry. First come first serve.”
“Unfortunately I have to test this, so do you mind getting off of it?”
Somi clicks her tongue and tries to look past you, but her eyes are drawn to the massive size of your glistening cock.
“I do mind, I’m not going to move and if you don’t get this fucking thing out of my face, I’ll call security.”
“You’re getting closer to it, Somi, I bet you can’t wait to have it inside of you.
“Let’s make a deal: I test the bed, while I fuck you prone.”
“Tempting,” Somi murmurs, nails tapping the side of your phallus. “I doubt that it will be fun though. Can you even satisfy me~?”
“Bitch, everyone can satisfy a bimbo like you.”
As soon as you get on top of the sheets, Somi takes a defensive position. She is on her back, the pointy end of her heels pointed dangerously close to your eyeball. The director, unable to influence the scene at this point, has his nervous, sweaty hands up in his hair. He knew all too well that Somi does what she wants and that her persona has to be tamed by another force on screen—you. After this, you’re going to ask for a fucking raise each time you’re forced to work overtime to control these fucking brats..
“Yes, keep looking at my pussy,” Somi purrs and pulls up her dress up to her waist. “But you can’t touch it. Touching is for men only~”
“Unimpressive, really.”
You form fists around Somi’s ankles. In a single powerful motion, you fold her in half, feet hovering next to her head. Somi yelps when her sizable ass is presented to you and she yelps again when you pull the laughable piece of clothing over her head. Through the messy strands of her disheveled hair, she can muster up no bratty reaction, not until you penetrate her asshole.
“Oh, you thought!” you shout out the moment Somi’s wrong hole becomes the definition of tightness. “You thought I’d fuck your pussy, but your oh-so pristine cunt has literally been fucked by a thousand guys—it’s loose!”
Smack Somi’s buttocks faster than you plunge in and out of her, make her ass turn redder than Yena’s and Sua’s faces as they watch from their respective beds. When you don’t spank Somi, your hands are too occupied with keeping her thin legs folded to do anything enjoyable, like grabbing her small waist or those massagable jugs. At first glance these perky tits look fake to you; it might just be the blur of pleasure though.
“Bimbo slut! Nice fake tits!”
“Y-you’re, ah, so, fuck, mean! Th-they are real!”
You lean forward, as far down as your flexibility allows, and spit and nibble all over Somi’s apparently real melons. Stare up at her, but the blonde has her chin up high, head thrown back. 
“Oh my God!” Somi grunts. “I’m so-so close, hng!”
“Is that so?” You completely stop every movement, balls deep inside. “Then admit it, say it out loud, ‘I’m a blonde bimbo slut’!”
“N-no—”
“Or you won’t cum.”
Somi twitches, the little fight left in her curvy frame gone like vapor in the wind in light of her approaching orgasm. She gleefully reaches for her own legs, holds them steady and gives you ample opportunity to finish the job. All you need is the code word.
“I’m a blonde bimbo slut, I’m a blonde bimbo slut, I’m a—oh shit, ah!”
Right on cue, you put some of your reserve energy into your lower body and do what you have done all day with insane power that makes your own mind spin aimlessly: fuck ass, rough and deep. Somi screams and squirts, both come out stupidly violent and then abate with time. She numbs your ears and drenches your crotch, the clear fluid shoots from her well-used cunt like a broken fountain and washes away the smells of all the other women. 
Somi is gorgeous and filthy, mixing both parts of what sex can be in one person who happens to fully focus on delivering on her bimbo image. It’s too late for her to rebrand, sadly, you’d totally try to feel her tits in a loving way, but who are you to complain?
A better question is: Where are you? 
Somi had you on the verge of cumming, which would go against your pride. To cum in a bimbo after only a few minutes is unacceptable. You had to edge yourself, take labored breaths, think of… unsexy things, otherwise the script writers would be disappointed. Ever since then, only flashes remain. Your co-host guiding you away, a familiar room, two, maybe three girls. One of them wears a cap—
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You’re in her mouth. This is bad. She is already sucking, lazily, but it’s very good, holy fuck! Your efforts of holding back are ultimately too late. An earthquake hits your entire body, head to toes, to announce your eruption. Instead of rapid spurts it’s one uninterrupted beam of cum, vacuumed out of your balls. 
The girl is overstrained with your orgasm. She gags up the baby batter and it tumbles down her chin right onto her exposed nipples. The rest either makes its way down her throat or all over your dick, where it creates a sticky situation, slowly cascading downward.
“Ha, f-f—” the victim of your unwanted, overwhelming attack tries to catch her breath. “Wh-at the hell? Are you fucking stupid? Do you always cum in other people's mouths the second they touch your useless snake?”
“S-sorry, Seungyeon!”
Seungyeon makes you shout your apology, because her ruthless hands get a hold of your dirty dick and jerk you off without thinking about the painful overstimulation they are causing. Okay, no, she is definitely thinking about that, just in a rather heartless manner. You have to grit your teeth to not wince as she grinds your blood-filled, hyper sensitive cockhead in between her dry fingers. 
“Too late for any apologies, you can drop dead for all I care.”
“Please, Seungyeon-unnie, don’t kill him, I ne—I mean, that would be sad,” an angelic voice complains.
“Minjeong, you would understand if he did the same to you. Look at this fucking mess!” 
Seungyeon points at the white globs trailing down her body. Some of it pools in the gap between her massive honkers, creating a lake of fertility or some other unholy creation. Minjeong kindly smiles at the sight.
“Isn’t it fun, Unnie? The feeling of all the warm cum, avalanches of tasty semen on your toned skin and milky boobs.” 
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Minjeong takes one of Seungyeon’s breasts into her mouth. In hunger she cleans them of any residue of your mishap, gleefully she swallows all of it, but only after showing it to you in her slutty mouth. The things you would do to her if you could.
“Fine, you can have his useless cock,” Seungyeon groans and hands Minjeong your semi-hard and burning manhood, like someone would pass their mic on stage. Instead of hitting fabulous high notes, the girl in her messy dark oak colored bun and fishnet stockings devours you like a treat. She nibbles off the remainders of white from you and in consequence forces you to loudly show your resignation.
"Stop, stop, please!" you wail. "I can't handle this, please, let me… let me rest."
To your surprise and delight, Minjeong not only has an angelic voice; her character at least somewhat mirrors the kind, heavenly being. She stops her movements completely, letting you rest inside her warm mouth. There is literally nothing you can do without the pain of overstimulation resurfacing again. Good thing that you don’t need to do anything to feel pleasure. 
This kind of kink is probably frustrating to watch, but frankly, for these few minutes you don’t give a damn. Should these horny fucks edge themselves while Minjeong’s adorable yet cock-hungry face fills the screen. You won’t budge, except for a hand that caresses the girl's bangs.
“This hair looks great on you, Minjeong.” 
If she could move her lips, they’d form a smile.
“You are quite the pretty girl.”
If she could talk, she’d say ‘thank you’.
“Also, thanks for cooperating. This was quite… unforeseen.”
“Keep your compliments to yourself,” Seungyeon snarks from the side and punches your hips with her balled fist. “You're such an idiot, you haven’t even greeted her yet.”
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“Oh, no no!” another girl tenderly says, your eyes only now catching her. “It’s not my turn yet. I will wait.”
“What’s your name?” you ask, scanning her tiny frame. A denim two piece covers her private parts, her milky skin a perfect contrast, especially to her tight up black hair which seems to shimmer in blue. The most noticeable thing about her are her slender arms, tied up behind her back with the straps of handbags. 
“Yeojin.”
“Why are you tied up, Yeojin?”
“Because I want you to use my mouth as the teeny-teen fleshlight it is meant to be.”
A sentence like an aphrodisiac. The desire to plunge into something with your slightly sore dick returns. It overrides even the concerns for your stamina. Give credit where it’s due, Minjeong has done a fantastic job in keeping you warm until now, but Yeojin is what sends you over the edge again. 
“Okay, fuck. Thank you Minjeong, I will treat you to something nice later—”
“But now you want her?” Minjeong giggles. “Understandable. Make it a show. Test her fucking mouth.”
Yeojin might look small, in your large hands however she is even smaller. No reason for her to back off, she does not look like she regrets her words, in fact, the opposite seems to be true. With the look of a stupidly stupid sex doll, she slightly opens her full lips and you part them wide, their softness on you at all times. Grab the tied-up strands to handle her like a proper fleshlight. Mercilessly thrust her face onto your cock once, and gasp in surprise when all of you easily fits inside her—gagless. 
“What the hell, are you a professional or something?”
Yeojin doesn’t respond, her face shows minimal reactions, eerily similar to a sex doll. Her posture remains unchanged, even when you go harder there is no strong reaction. Your mind can’t wrap around this yet, the script writers did a terrible job at explaining how insanely good yet awfully confusing she is. Yeojin, real-life sex doll with pouty mouth—this description does not do her justice. 
“Seungyeon, Minjeong,” you call out to the girls behind you. “I need your help.”
“What for?” Seungyeon groans, while Minjeong already crawls to you.
“I want you, Minjeong, to undress this petite sex toy. Seungyeon, grab that ponytail and smash her face onto my crotch, I want to feel this nose on my abs.
“Help me destroy her.”
The two get to work immediately. Seungyeon swats your hands away before you have time to remove them and she starts slamming. Your cock disappears and reappears at an insane pace, the outline of Yeojin’s throat changing from thin to massively bulged. Minjeong kneels behind Yeojin, digs her fingers into the denim top and yanks it down to the rest. Leaving out unnecessary teasing, she removes all of it by finding the zippers. Hands rubbing over Yeojin’s exposed skin, Minjeong presents it to you.
“She has a petite body, small waist and shoulders, her hips are a bit bigger but look: her tits are even smaller than mine, basically nonexistent.”
Minjeong cups Yeojin’s chest playfully, and she is right there isn’t much to show. For those that love this type of body, Yeojin is the perfect sex doll. You step to the side for a moment to let the camera film the perfect view. Right on cue, Minjeong spreads Yeojin’s legs.
“Her pussy looks very tight~ I bet you don’t fit in there. Those thighs are the only thing with at least some meat. Round and firm!”
Minjeong smacks them. Watching them wiggle was a mistake, as Seungyeon angrily shoves Yeojin’s face back onto your cock. Fuck, if she continues at this pace, you might cum too early again. Maybe it’s time to abort this room and flee. You don’t gotta catch them all, there is still so much to do. Luckily, a familiar voice saves you from Yeojin’s wet throat, which might literally suck someone’s soul out.
“Magnificent, truly magnificent!” your co-host raves. “There is still so much to do, please follow me!”
JUST TESTING CONTINUES HERE
(A/N2: Sorry, Tumblr is a little bitch and I had to cut it here cuz the fic is too long. Seriously, I hate this site)
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vanilladove · 3 months
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Helllooo, can i request Tecchou with someone hes known all his life, and that are kinda Childhood-friends to lovers? Just some fluff and maybe the Hunting dogs being like, „And how long have you been friends and together for?“ “Just 18 years, why?“ bc i think that would be so funny (also extra, can you make their dynamic kinda like black cat thats secretly a golden retriever(reader) x golden retriever(tecchou), if not, that okay [[: )
I hope you have a good day ♡
.ೃ。+˚❝ just 18 years ❞
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divider creds plum98
ೀ⋆。˚pairing: tecchou x fem!reader
ೀ⋆。˚genre: fluff, slightly suggestive oops
ೀ⋆。˚content warnings: none! other than tecchou's horrendous food combos .__.
ೀ⋆。˚word count: 1.6k
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"A-Ah, Tecchou, don't dip your hamburger into your milkshake—!"
You pouted, stopping your boyfriend's hand from ruining his strawberry milkshake. The two of you had decided to go on a date at a vintage diner for his day off. Being a Hunting Dog was demanding, and he was often exhausted at the end of the day, so you tried to cherish every moment you could spend together. However, you could never truly relax with him.
The brunette frowned, his bangs shifting as he turned his head to peer up at you, "Why not? Sweet and salty go together, right? And it's good to combine foods that are the same colors. Ketchup and strawberry are bo—
You sighed, shoving a french fry dipped in your vanilla milkshake into Tecchou's mouth, cutting off his senseless rambling.
He looked surprised, but his eyes quickly lit up upon tasting the new, delicious food combination. "Oh, this is actually really good...Can I have another one?"
"Sure!" You nodded happily as you fed him another french fry, this time dipping it into his drink. At least it was more socially acceptable now. You watched as he ate the fries, quiet but focused on absorbing the flavor. Getting to treasure these sweet and wholesome moments with the strongest soldier in the Hunting Dogs was what made you fall for Tecchou in the first place, your love for him only growing stronger as you two grew up. "Seriously, though, Tecchou—sometimes I feel like your food taste is just pregnancy cravings..."
You continued to shovel dipped fries in his mouth as you recalled your past memories together, "Remember that one time that you tried to eat a slice of my birthday cake with dirt just because it was chocolate, and they were both brown?" You giggled as you pictured the scene again: you running over to find Tecchou after he'd gone off to your garden, him proudly showing you the "dirt sprinkles" and "moving gummy worms" he'd dug up from the ground to eat with his cake, your shock, and the equally shocked and amused looks on his parents' and the neighbors' faces when you told them the story. You titled your head, staring at your reflection on the bar table's metal countertop. "I don't even know how old we were when that happened. Just that it was when we were still neighbors."
Tecchou grinned, "It was your tenth birthday. I remember you were wearing that cream frilly dress with roses and got it dirty when you came to talk to me in the garden." He looked up and down your figure, noticing your cream and cherry-patterned halter midi dress, "'Kinda looks like what you have on right now. By the way, did I tell you how beautiful you look today?"
Rose dusted your cheeks as you pulled away, flustered and trying to keep your cool. "T-thanks." You looked back towards Tecchou and took in his outfit. Since it was his day off, he'd ditched the maroon uniform for an off-white, short-sleeve linen button-up and tan pants. His shirt was partially unbuttoned at the top, exposing his toned chest and arms and accentuating his layered, dark hair. "You look nice, too." You looked away, embarrassed for momentarily staring so hard, but you were sure the blush was still visible on your cheeks. You couldn't help it—even though you'd known Tecchou for so long and had already been dating for a few years, you felt like you'd never get over the butterflies and puppy love phase. It was probably due to his honest yet silly nature and the disastrous but endearing moments you always spent together. You still went on cute dates all the time—hiking (Tecchou would get you two lost in the woods sometimes...), picnics, and aquariums, so your relationship always felt wholesome and tender even through the hardships of Tecchou's work, just like a plum blossom.
Tecchou whined lowly, missing your touch by his face already. You were too lost in thought to notice the drops of milkshake flowing down your fingers, and Tecchou smiled cheekily. “Your hands are dripping.” He pointed at the one you were feeding him fries with.
You looked down, “Huh? Oh—“ you were about to grab a napkin from the dispenser until you felt your boyfriend firmly pull your hand back to his mouth and lick the sugary drink off your fingers. You yelped and tried to move back, startled by the sudden action. "T-Techhou, i-it's fine—"
"No," He said firmly, keeping his grip on you—there was no way you could break out of the toughest Hunting Dog's hold—"Just stay still." Complying, you blushed as he slowly ran his wet tongue over your sticky fingers, golden eyes intensely staring into your own.
"Mmm...you taste so sweet..." he grumbled into your skin—you secretly prayed he would stop before you started drawing attention as your heartbeat got faster.
"Tecchou—seriously, you're acting strange—!"
He pouted suddenly, lifting his head a bit, "You should be happy, y'know...When I get you pregnant, I'll eat all your weird pregnancy cravings with you."
You shivered at his words as he dipped back down to get the last bits of vanilla milkshake off your fingers, entire body now feeling hot. You were sure he didn't intend for it to come off so suggestive and probably thought it was a cute and innocent thing to say, but you were going crazy inside. Wait, doesn't that also mean he loves me enough to start a family togethe—
The door to the diner slammed open abruptly as three other customers came in, all in matching maroon attire.
"Hey! Tecchou's eating a human!" You recognized the high-pitched voice of Teruko, who was quickly followed by Jouno and Tachihara. The two ran in to see your questionable pose; Tachihara gaped in shock and Jouno looked disgusted, and the intrusion made you almost explode in embarrassment.
Tecchou, however, was completely unbothered, only muttering a "hello" as he looked at his unit who'd cut off his precious time with you.
You pulled your hand away, trying to introduce yourself "H-hi. You must be Tecchou's coworkers...I'm—"
Tachihara gasped, "Right, sorry, we must be interrupting your first date. Let's leave them in peace, guys!" He tried to leave before Teruko stopped him.
"No, Tachihara, we can't leave yet. This poor girl doesn't even know what she's gotten herself into...I mean, Tecchou's got some weird quirks and stuff, right?" Jouno sighed, already sick of the two and wanting to get away from the noisy diner. He could hear Tecchou's heartbeat get faster anxiously as the Hunting Dogs started to taunt you, suggesting that the brunette had strong feelings for you.
Tecchou's grip on you loosened like a sad puppy as Teruko's words hit him, making you notice, "N-no! You're both wrong!" You stammered, catching all four's attention. Tecchou's eyes were gazing into you again, curious as to what you'd say and how you felt about him since by nature you weren't a very expressive person. "This isn't our first date, and Tecchou's not weird!"
His eyes widened, and Teruko fell silent—slightly pissed off that you were challenging her but also shocked at how you were defending the same man who ate boiled eggs with the shells still on.
"He's kind and always makes me laugh, he's strong and protects me from danger, offers to carry and take care of me when I'm tired and sick, and he spends his free days with me even though he feels guilty about not being able to save others! I love him! I love him, and I always have ever since we were neighbors!" You pulled his arm close into your chest and tried to avert your eyes away from the patrons who had all started staring at you. Now, you and your boyfriend were both blushing. And he knew how you felt about him.
Teruko looked at you suspiciously; the Hunting Dogs were all close with each other and didn't disclose much about their pasts, so she wondered what your intentions were with Tecchou, since she didn't recall him ever mentioning you. "Neighbors, you say? And how long have you been friends together for?"
You and Tecchou looked at each other, both equally confused and dumbfounded by the fact that the Hunting Dogs didn't know you'd been dating. "Just 18 years, why?" You both said in unison, smiling and giggling at the coincidence.
Teruko recoiled in surprise, now feeling bad for being so intrusive. Trying to brush off her actions and be nonchalant, she turned her back to the two of you and grabbed the other two men, "Oh, sorry. Sorry for barging in then. We'll see you tomorrow, Tecchou." Jouno sighed again, unimpressed by his superior as Tachihara followed before turning around and smiling,
"Have fun, lovebirds!" You hugged Tecchou, feeling sheepish from the whole encounter and by your loud love confession, and he only hugged you back, strong arms enveloping you into his firm chest.
"Love you..." You mumbled weakly, feeling defeated but also relived to finally be alone together again. He laughed huskily as he planted a kiss on top of your head.
"I love you, too." You poked your head up from his chest to peck his soft lips, tasting a mixture of vanilla and strawberry. He closed his eyes, guiding the back of your head into the kiss more before pulling away and hugging you once more. "Hey, do you think you could feed me more fries? I'm hungry again."
You snickered cutely, nodding as you stayed in his arms a bit longer, thankful to have fallen in love with your childhood best friend.
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boop-le-snoot · 1 year
Text
masterlist
cherry pt. 1 🍒
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gif by @taiturner
touch-starved!fem!reader x touch-starved, shy daryl dixon. this is pure tooth-rotting fluff with protective daryl, set somewhere in alexandria. the reader is a medic, this is a sweet build-up to smut which is going to be in part 2.
3.5k words, suitable for everyone. reader is referred to as "she", written in 3rd person, mostly daryl's pov, all lowercase. title from the lana song cherry because lana + norman = *author barks incoherently and descends into insanity*
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her knee landed between his legs with a soft thud. the meat of his thigh surrounded by her legs as he sat under the yellow overhead lamp, daryl's chest rose and fell steadily, caramel skin marred by a deep red welt.
he stunk like bloody sweat, moist soil and gunpowder and lead.
"I'll inject a local," she mumbled, tapping on the glass vial before inserting the syringe and filling it up with a clear liquid, "you gonna need some twenty stitches, boyo."
"you dun' hafta," he, nonetheless, winced; the welt went across his chest, over his pectoral and almost to his collarbone. all and all, far from the worst he's had.
painkillers were a luxury, better spent on someone else, someone not like him. but he knew better than to argue with a medic (or someone filling the position of one, for that matter).
the woman's scent enveloped his senses in an opaque fog of sweet summer sweat over sharp, cheap laundry powder. something bitter, like rosemary and thyme, something sweet, like cherries and wine.
daryl's eyelashes fluttered as the needle pierced his skin: once, twice, five times, all around the jagged edges of the torn wound. the breath he was holding in left his mouth in a humid huff.
her hands, so gentle, prodded at the edges of his hurt until he could answer her question of 'feel anything?' negative, honestly. briefly, the acrid stench of rubbing alcohol overshadowed everything else as she sterilized everything, the tools and him, to the best of her ability.
he opened his eyes.
"now," she lifted her clever eyes, surveying the scene, "I'm gonna perch myself here," she moved that much closer, one knee between his legs, the other on the side of his leg; hovering over the same leg, facing his reclined torso, "you tell me if you're uncomfortable. that's the only light here, I don't mean to invade your personal space like that."
he could have laughed, if not for the risk of disrupting her careful stitching of his flesh.
"don'tcha worry 'bout it, pretty girl," his voice gravelly low, daryl did his best to stay still.
she chuckled softly, "bet you say that to anyone who can stitch you up in an even line."
"no," he scoffed, surprising himself, "jus' you. rick's hardly a pretty girl."
her hands stilled, eyes momentarily darting to his. the yellow light reflected in them, giving her pupils a red-hot gleam, as if devil himself had taken a sharp turn and went to seek refuge inside her instead of coming down to georgia.
he studied it, studied his own blurry, open-mouthed, panting reflection in the pupils of the woman currently perched atop his lap. then the realisation hit him, like a derailed runaway train, and he immediately withdrew to count the cracks in the ceiling.
she cleared her throat, resuming the rhythmical push and pull of the needle.
"didn't know rick could do that."
daryl attempted to shrug - stopping it before the motion reached his shoulders - and grunted instead.
she continued to stitch, the suddenly pregnant silence punctuated by the crinkling of a wrapper. an extra large, sterile bandaid was placed over the wound after she applied something green and foul-smelling atop the now-closed gash; his grunted query was met with a curt,
"antiseptic."
and he was let go with instructions to return the next day for a dressing change.
he lied to himself. he waited until it was dark to show up the next day, well into the summer night, just to be placed in the same position - under the lone hanging lamp, under her.
cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme, complimented by a trail of herbal tea. she smelled like peaches, too, this time. or, perhaps, it were the blooming trees outside her window that snuck their sweet aroma indoors.
"healing nicely," she remarked off-handedly, seemingly oblivious to the rising level of his tension and his inner turmoil. "the pain not too bad? you seem grumpy. grumpier than usual."
this time, he waited until she removed herself from his form to bark a terse laugh.
"no, pretty girl," he eyed her in the dusky, dusty room and received a crooked smile for his troubles, "long day 'is all."
"tell me about it," she huffed, shoulders sagging a bit more than he would have liked.
"who's the prick bothering ya?" he couldn't help it, his mind immediately went... places. surely, he wasn't the only one who noticed her pretty.
"no-one but my own damn brain," she scoffed, seemingly at herself, "and maybe the dick from number 17. it's like he's doing it on purpose."
"doin' what now?" daryl's voice dropped, his eyes squinted. his palm migrated to the handle of his knife, a gesture utterly subconscious.
"gettin' injured," she grumbled, no real heat behind her words, "got shot with a dart last week, sprained his ankle on a routine perimeter check today. how did that man serve 6 years in the army is beyond me."
daryl's head tilted as his chest tensed, heart thudded uncomfortably against his ribs.
"isn't carol taking care of all the broken bones?" he asked, tone laced with suspicion.
she turned to face him; he felt, more than saw, the annoyed roll of her eyes.
"he demands a real doctor," the woman shook off the wrapper before leaning back into him and placing it over his wound in one swift, irritated gesture, "how come nobody's told him I'm just a good faker? everyone knows by this point. all he does is waste resources-"
"woah, woah," daryl's voice rose briefly as he attempted to halt the incoming ramble. not that he didn't want to hear what she had to say, it was just unusual to see the quiet woman so... not herself.
"sorry," she shot immediately, looking away, "he just gives me the creeps. I know it's mean but-"
"no," daryl shook his head immediately, "if he's botherin' you, he's botherin' you and he needa back off."
she chuckled as she leaned back to observe the results of her work. her eyes were tired and a little ashamed. "say whatchu want but you southern fellas are real gentlemen," her smile was soft.
nobody has ever spoken to him like that, much less referred to him as a gentleman. through the momentary awe, daryl let the corners of his lips tilt up in a closed-lipped, shy smile.
he didn't return the next day, and the day after, having been deemed healthy enough by rick to be sent off to hunt some game - all activities classified as "takin' it easy" by the community leader. people needed food, growing kids needed the protein.
the gash on his chest bled a little, not much, and the scab that formed afterwards looked proper, thick and healthy.
as he reached the gates upon his return, he could make out some shouting just on the border of the little gated town. a few voices did their best to be heard, one right over the other.
"whazzat?" he quizzed the guard.
"lil doctor lady," the guard responded, frowning, squinting into the distance, "and big john, arguin' over something. dunno what. rick's there too."
daryl did not like the sound of that. he didn't like that at all. he dumped the three deer right there on the muddy ground as soon as he crossed the threshold of the safe zone, powerwalking towards the arguing trio.
"... 'm tellin' ya, rick, she's makin' shit up! I risk my life every day goin' out and patrollin', getting the damn supplies so she could patch me up like she's s'posed to!" big john, red in the face and fists clenched, stood looming over rick as he defended himself to the unimpressed sheriff, "'s'not like I broke my damn arm on purpose!"
immediately, daryl's bullshit meter went off as alarms blared in his head at full volume. big john's words were a little too loud, a little too passionate.
rick's eyes darted towards daryl's rapidly approaching form; that was all he needed to know about the situation.
"if that were true, you'd have no problem with carol attending to you, man," for the time being, rick successfully played the good cop.
"she's not even a real doctor!"
"neither am I!" the woman finally spoke up, shooting a glance at daryl, too, as her shoulders dropped slightly.
"hey, what's your fuckin' problem?" daryl finally stomped close enough for big john to jump at his words.
"none of your damn business," he shot back immediately, switching to stare down at the woman. it wasn't hard for him to make her shrink: his name was big john for a reason.
"don't bother tha nice lady," daryl scoffed, straightening up, "least you want a fuckin' knuckle sandwich. first and final warning."
"oh, fuck you man," big john turned to daryl, taking a step towards the archer, chest puffing out with the force of his rage. his left hand was in a makeshift cast; the right one rose, rapidly flying, aimed at daryl's face.
it didn't take the archer much effort to side-step the large man. he was immediately responding with a punch of his own.
big john staggered, taking a couple of unsteady steps back; within the next second, another punch connected with his face, sending blood and snot flying as he fell on the ground noisily.
"that's enough!" rick yelled, pulling on daryl's shoulder.
for the time being, the archer was content to let himself be steered away from the fight.
somewhere behind him, a feminine voice mumbled something less-than-polite, sighing, as she joined rick in pulling him away from big john.
"you stay away from her, dipshit!" daryl added hotly, "fuckin' weirdo."
"c'mon big guy," she cooed softly, nodding to rick as she steered him towards her house, "let's get you cleaned up."
he let her drag him indoors, towards the kitchen sink where the smell of herbs was the most potent. throughout the dirt and grime that always followed his hunts, it was a welcome respite. earthy and natural in the best, the most tender of ways.
the woman checked his knuckles, tugging on his big, meaty hand to place it under a stream of cold tap water; his skin was clear, once the grime and blood and dirt was washed off. a coupla punches was nothing, his knuckles too seasoned to sustain an injury from something as simple as a fistfight.
in broad daylight, there was no need for her to perch atop him to check the wound on his chest.
daryl swallowed, following her hands with his eyes. in her pristine, clean kitchen, he'd never felt more out of place as she moved aside the neck of his sweat-stained shirt and touched the soft skin of her fingertips to the scab, checking for infection.
the corners of her mouth finally, finally tilted up. an angry, upset expression had no place on her face; daryl could feel himself deflate as the cloud over the head of the little doctor lady finally, finally dissipated.
"you didn't even tear the stitches, I'm impressed," she complimented him softly, brushing the shirt collar back in place and smoothing it out with her palm, "they're dissolvable, luckily. go wash up and come back, I'll put some antibiotic ointment on it just in case. okay?"
her touch burned, but it was a sweet sort of fire. the kind that remained in his mouth after a particularly delicious batch of spicy wings, blooming as he took a deep breath.
he wanted to chase it with his tongue.
his nostrils flared as he exhaled.
"okay, dar?"
she had a nickname for him. she stared at him with those round, trusting eyes, not knowing that in truth, he was no better than big john.
daryl's cheeks flamed.
"okay," he mumbled, unable to refuse her anything when her eyes.., "dun look at me like dat."
"like what?" she frowned again and oh no, this was so much worse than the earnest concern written plain as day on her face just seconds ago.
his heart hammered in his chest. his fingers twitched. he swallowed the lump in his throat, shuffled his feet.
"cya," finally, his legs cooperated! he ran out of the house like the coward that he was.
he didn't come back as she'd requested. he couldn't. instead, he stubbornly stood under an ice cold stream of water, as long as could manage - and it did exactly nada for his racing thoughts or his traitorous body.
the soap carol had made smelled like herbs.
it smelled like the kitchen where tender fingers prodded at his skin, where soft hair briefly brushed his cheek, where the overhead lamp illuminated a halo around the head of the woman that found a home inside his head on most nights.
dusk fell over the settlement as a knock disturbed the miniscule amount of peace he'd managed to find for himself in the darkness of the basement.
"daryl?" rick's voice yelled, "I gotta favour to ask!"
he was there in an instant. "whassup?"
"the doctor lady. big john's bin runnin' his mouth since dinner, ion like it. I think he's gonna be up to no good."
what daryl liked about rick was his straightforwardness and common sense. such concern had place to be. daryl nodded, walking inside to put on a clean shirt and pick up his crossbow.
"I appreciate it," rick clapped him on the shoulder, "I'd stick around myself but judy is teething and michonne has been up for three nights already, m'afraid she's gonna..."
"no probl'm, rick, ah get it," daryl cut off the rambling man, "you go take care of your baby girl."
as daryl made way to the woman's house, his mind switched to defense mode effortlessly. he knew just the perfect spot to perch himself in, away from prying eyes and well within the observation range of the entries to her house. it wasn't the most comfortable of spots but summer nights were warm and the birdsong from the trees provided a childhood sort of comfort under the clear, dark skies.
as he prepared to settle in, the main door to her house cracked open.
she wore short, thin cotton shorts and a worn out t-shirt and nothing else, a steaming cup of tea clutched securely between her palms. her eyes immediately landed on his dark figure attempting to blend into the dusky underbrush.
"I thought you'd be a no-show," she remarked, a playful tone colouring her voice.
daryl had enough conscience to look sheepish. "uhh," he replied, eloquently, taking a hesitant step towards her house. the light breeze blew the hot fumes of her tea right into his nose, momentarily clouding his judgement. he barely could tear his eyes away from the soft, unblemished skin of her legs.
"c'mon," she waved him in, and he followed, obedient, quiet, like a puppy. she made a brief stop at the stove before pushing a cup into his hands, "I made some tea. not terribly sweet for you, I hope. you seem like a black coffee kinda guy."
the upbeat, companionable chatter sent daryl's head reeling. it's like she was completely oblivious to his clumsiness, to his bluntness, to the awkwardness that seemed to take deep root in his bones whenever he was in her presence.
he took a sip, a courtesy, as she made him sit in that recliner chair again, her body warm and comfortable above him. isn't that what you wanted, moron? his head screamed at him, the annoying voice eerily similar to his late brother's.
"it's okay to let me know you're uncomfortable," she spoke quietly as she moved aside the collar of his shirt once more.
he shivered, it's not like he could help himself. "wha?"
"not everyone likes to be... touched," she briefly looked up, then back again as she rubbed the salve around his scabs, sharp chemicals and plastic disturbing the peaceful aroma of her herbal tea, "my ma used to yell at me to, like... stop hugging random people. sometimes I forget that not everyone is perfectly fine with jus' bein' groped."
"hmm," he managed, struggling not to sound like all of his christmases just had arrived at once. she wanted to touch him. well, not just him-
"these days, I'm not particularly keen on that either, but eventually, the touch starvation catches up to me. I'm just glad that, like, carol and rosita don't freak out or anything, when I play octopus with 'em."
"it's... okay," he had to drink to clear his throat, inhale to clear his mind. "ion mind, pretty girl," daryl tried for a smile and was sure it came more like a grimace. he desperately needed practice in that department.
she chuckled, a dulcet little noise, before her eyes shot up to his. whatever she was looking for, she found it; her hands, done with healing his external wounds, stroked slowly over his shoulders, mapping the broad, muscular expanse of them in one fluid motion. the tips of his hair tickled the tops of her palms.
with only a thin cotton barrier separating daryl's skin from hers, it was as close to heaven as he will ever allowed to be. the cup in his hand scalded his rough palms, hot ceramic burning through the callouses: it was like an afterthought of pain and nothing more.
her fingers connected behind his neck, the pads rubbing over the tense muscle there. the groan left his mouth unnoticed by him, until he could feel the smile on her face bloom just like the flowers outside her window.
"you like that?"
"mmm," he managed, weakly. something inside of him was crumbling. maybe it was the tea that had filled his veins with melted sugar and liquified the strong resolve to not let someone like her be tainted by someone like him.
she kept on kneading his neck and shoulders, like a damn cat working graveyard shift at the biscuit cookie factory.
daryl's deep inhale moved his whole body.
she staggered, brief and sweet, tilting heavily into him to keep up her balance and stop herself from falling over. graceful, she was not.
he was met with a parted mouth, so sweet and red and plump, like ripe cherries; right over his nose, just out of reach, sinful and tantalising in it's own right. the pink, moist meat of her tongue was tucked into the corner of it as her eyes narrowed, something between relief and concentration.
seeing him look, the mouth stretched into a smile, making it that much sweeter. she was looking at him, again, like- like that.
her hands faltered, she swayed in place; daryl's instincts got the better of him and he secured her, one hand holding her body by the hip to steady the sudden bout of clumsiness.
"m'sorry, imma klutz," she looked away sheepishly.
he squeezed her hip on response, letting her know it was okay. and it really was more than that: much to his wide-eyed wonder. he felt like he was the one who should be doing the apologizing. but not only did she not shake off his hand, oh no, she leaned further into him, her belly almost touching his bent forearm.
it took a gargantuan amount of effort just to not pull her in all the way. she was most inviting to touch, all soft curves courtesy of semi-regular meals and tender skin despite the blazing summer sun.
daryl's thumb moved up and down the cotton of her shorts absent-mindedly. the sweet little sighs falling from her lips were hard to miss. almost as if it was someone else pushing her into his arms, a well-meaning ghost perhaps; she tilted in on herself to soak up the warmth of his large, hot body.
a trail of goosebumps ran across his scalp, starting from the place she was rubbing gentle circles into it - at the back of his head, where his hairline met his nape. if he was capable of purring, he would.
instead, he groaned again, eyelashes fluttering, casting a moving shadow on his sharp cheeks. his reward was an equally-content sounding sigh as it drafted into his nose, warm and earthy.
the empty cup thudded against the table where he placed it.
her fingers parted his hair gingerly, taking great care to avoid potential tangles. some finer, smaller hairs still pulled, taking some of his self-deprecation and resolve with 'em as the motion traversed his body in a jolt and settled somewhere deep inside the pit of his belly.
this was getting dangerous.
daryl opened his eyes and stared up.
1K notes · View notes
bitethedevil · 5 months
Note
Am i delulu or does raphael admire tav/durge? I know its him performing, but as gale says "inviting to dine with devil is devils equivilant of serenade and roses" and first scene where we meet him he does eye tav/durge througly from bottom to top. Also he says "im fan of your work" to durge. So idk?? It lowey feels like raphael is fond of us in game but i need proof/ professional analysis. [Ahem you are the professional mouse afterall heehee~]
He Loves Us, He Loves Us Not: What is Raphael’s Relationship with Tav/Durge?
*Puts on my little mouse glasses* I’m glad you asked. I’m summing up a few points that I have also written about in another analysis called ‘Raphael and weaponized mortality’, so if that sounds interesting, you can find it in my reading list.
Everything about Raphael screams wolf in sheep’s clothing (or a cambion in man’s clothing if you will). Here are a few points illustrating this:
Cambions naturally have a really predatory kind of stench to them because they are entirely carnivorous. Yet, he is described as a perfumed trickster who smells of cherries and sulphur, most likely because he is trying to cover up that smell.
Poetry, an art that is very dependent on nasty mortal concepts such as ‘feelings’, is something we know he uses a lot. He’s not really good at it and he even says it’s not his ‘main interest’ to Karlach in the second act. His theatrical nature and use of poetry humanizes him, and I think he is well-aware of this.
When you call him out as a devil in front of Mol, he says something about how she wouldn’t believe them anyway, ‘not with his angelic complexion’. We also know that Gortash’s parents sold him to a ‘warlock’ and that’s how he ended up with Raphael. I’ve seen multiple places that that warlock is supposed to be Raphael himself.
Now this all makes me believe that he usually does not reveal his true nature to his clients unless: 1) they’ve already signed, or 2) they are so utterly fucked that they have already reached the point of no return with him and are forced to take his deal no matter what.
Yet, he reveals his true nature to us from the get-go. Yes, one could argue that the tadpole-gang does fulfill option 2) according to him and that’s why he does it, but I think it could also be something else. I think he knows from early on that we are his best bet, so he chooses to lay out all his cards on the table and tries to build as much trust as he can from the beginning.
This is also the function of helping us with Astarion’s scars. Dealing with a devil when you’ve never dealt with one before? Scary. Dealing with a devil when he has proven once before to keep his word? Much less scary. He’s ‘grooming’ us for trusting him to keep his word with THE deal (and he gets to fuck over Daddy Meph by potentially robbing him of a lot of souls. Win-win.)
I think Gale is right on the money when he says that it’s ‘a devil’s equivalent to serenades and roses’. Raphael is like a bird or something. He’s showing off, charming us, but also reminding us that he is big and scary. Although despite the fact that he is big and scary ‘he simply wants to help us’.
He’s done his research and already knows everything about us, so he knows exactly how to play us. This is demonstrated in the comment to Durge in the beginning and the thing he says in Last Light if you tell him he knows nothing about you: “Don’t I indeed?.
I really think that we turn into an obsession for him at some point and that the lines between the obsession about the Crown and his obsession about us blurs. This seems definitely to be the case in his journals. I mean the poor guy has nightmares about us…
I also am so sure that he is not even trying to trick us into anything with the Orphic Hammer. He truly does believe that the Emperor is a threat to us. See this:
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I DO think he admires us or at the very least is heavily rooting for us. I don’t remember the exact quotes, but Korrilla tells us in Sharess’s that her and Raphael made a bet about if we would make it to the Gate, and Raphael won that bet because we had. He really believes in our merry little band of idiots.
His reaction if we betray him is also very telling I feel like. Notice how his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow and say the ‘You’ line. He seems surprised. In that whole sequence he is obviously pissed, but most of all I also just get the feeling of a man that has been humiliated and who is angry that he had put so much time, work, and trust into us.
He says that ‘he is fond of us, in his way’ and that I completely believe. It might not be out of love or affection or anything like that, but he is as fond of us as a cambion can be of someone. We’ve grown on him, and he sees potential and use in us. We fascinate him and I’d even go as far to say that he respects us. I feel like even if you give him the Crown of Karsus and he gets to rule the Hells, he will not forget the people who brought him there. He would not flaunt the fact that he had mortals help him get the Crown, but I think that when he goes on his spree to fuck up the realms outside the Hells, Tav and gang would at the very least be spared or even given privileges in that new world order. Is that a bit fucked up? Yeah…But we have to remember what he is: a devil.
(Thank you so much for the ask <3 That became a long answer. I love to yap lol)
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fleuraimer · 10 days
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i NEED to hear your thoughts on reader's arguments with boxer!carmy. what's their first argument about? who usually caves first?
you, anon, are a hero and a scholar and are about to receive the greatest blurb in the history of the the tumblr industry (pls someone understand this reference 😭😭)
BUT IT ALL SERIOUSNESS, this is fucking gold; i love you for sending this.
tw!! ooooohh they get into it yall. carmen being a man (ik, i’m sorry). some suggestive content. happy ending.
bf boxer!carmy and reader fighting!!
concept 1. concept 2. bf boxer!carmy hcs.
ok, so, me thinks bf boxer!carmy and his pretty broad actually argue a lot. so often it teeters just on the edge of being unhealthy. but, they also know each other and realize they’re two petty asf ppl (😭😭). so, even though they argue often, it’s usually over stupid shit, or their little fears (like who was supposed to wash the dishes that night, or how carmy’s profession holds a great deal of power over his life, enough to take it away—
she tries hard not to think about it too much; that argument is a losing game).
if carmy’s being frank, it’s half the reason he’s so fucking obsessed in love with her. she’s feisty—she’s trouble, and carmy’s never been good at staying out of it, even before he was the one starting the fights.
however…
when they fight—oh boy! do they fight.
i’d like to think bf boxer!carmy has a hugeeeee jealousy problem (lil insecure loser ☹️🫶🏽), and so that’s usually how their more heated fights begin.
i think their very first BIG fight has to do with a mix of his jealousy issue and the nature of how their relationship came to be.
allow me to set the scene:
so carmy wins the fight against timmy boy (surprise??) and starts talking to his pretty broad, finds out her and timmy aren’t exclusive, just messing around, and takes the green light.
a few weeks go by and everything is going smoothly—you know, the usual, extravagant dates and expensive gifts, lots of pampering and affection from both ends; the rose-hued, honeymoon stage—and carmy invites her as his plus one to some big party/event for his job.
he knocks on the front door of her apartment at 7:15 pm on the dot with a stunning bouquet—baby’s breath and lilies and anemones—of flowers in his right hand. he’s dressed to the nines; a fitted black tux—double breasted, with peak lapels, and slightly high-waisted trousers—and a brown dress-shirt, first thee to four buttons undone (whore 🥸) with a black chiffon, nearly iridescent slip over it that makes that same brown look an earthy, rich green at a swift glance. one gold bracelet, one gold ring for each hand (middle and pinky fingers), his unnecessarily attractive little gold hoop earrings, and a simple gold crucifix hangin’ ‘round his neck.
he raps his busted knuckles against the door with his left hand, and then patiently leans against the frame and awaits the telltale sign of her heels against the hardwood floors.
he counts to seventeen before her front door is swinging open.
the first thing he notices is that smile (that smile, the one she only ever gives to him—not eddie (god forbid), or nacho, or benny, or fucking timmy—just him). pearly whites, with bow and cherry gems (i loveeee teeth gems if my pfp didn’t make that clear), on display, framed by those plump, painted lips—brown liner, blackberry pink lipstick, and a nice, shiny gloss—that never seem to leave his head; burned into his memory, melded to his mind.
his eyes drop to the baby pink toes he’s become far too fond of, the white strap and silver chain of her dior heels placed prettily over top. flits his appraising gaze up to her ankles, the left one wrapped in the anklet he gifted her on their fourth date, a (boxing) glove charm hanging from the gold link. up—up, up, up—they go, trailing the soft ruffles and tedious buttons lining her long sleeve knit dress, hem hitting just at her shin, tight fitting—cinched to her figure—with a swoop neckline that shows off just the right amount of cleavage.
he stops when his eyes find hers again, brown sugar and saccharine.
he pushes off the door frame and steps through, ‘til they’re standing toe to toe and her head is awkwardly bent backward so she can keep eye contact.
“hi, bear,” she chirps, soft and taunting. grins at him while her jewel adorned hands slide up the smooth lapels of his tux.
the left corner of his mouth kicks up into a smirk as he snakes his left arm around her waist, dragging her closer.
his head spins with the scent of cinnamon and evergreen, and he wants to nuzzle in her neck because of it.
“hey, cub,” he rumbles back, and neither of them acknowledge the way she practically melts into her, she just curls her fingers into his lapels, and he tightens his hold on her waist.
she looks at the flowers in his right hand, “those for me?”
carmy turns his head to look at the flowers, lifts his hand with a noisy crinkle to present ‘em to her.
still, he shakes his head, puts on his best poker face and huffs, “nah, i’m taking that real pretty broad down the hall on a date tonight. just dropping in to say ‘hi’.”
her grin drops, face flat, eyes narrowed.
she unfurls her fists from his jacket, starts pushing him away, out from where he came.
“well, since we’ve finished swapping pleasantries—”
this time when he huffs, he’s huffing out a laugh, “i’m kidding. hey, baby, i’m kidding. swear.” he drops the flowers (unimportant; he can get more if she really wants them) to the ground at the side of their feet and wraps his other arm around her waist, crowding her space, barely giving her room to breathe, let alone slip from his grasp.
she wriggles in his hold, still shoving uselessly at his firm chest. “carmen, let go—”
and, well he’s definitely in trouble, but there’s not much to be done about that now, is there?
he takes both her tiny, pounding fists and locks them behind her back in one fell swoop “never. now look at me.”
she looks into the hallway, just over his shoulder, to piss him off.
his eye threatens to twitch.
“look at me, cub. don’t make me say it again.”
she rolls her brown sugar eyes, but does thereafter shift her gaze to look at him. raises an impatient brow.
“i’m sorry for saying that. it was a shitty joke—”
“it wasn’t fucking funny, carm.”
he grunts, “all right. wasn’t funny, i’m sorry, baby.”
she continues to glare at him for another 30 to 45 seconds, but then her shoulders are slumping and her face is scrunching in that cute little pout and she’s whining like a sweet little baby.
“wasn’t funny, bear,” she grumbles, and carmy snickers.
“y’already said that; gimme a kiss.”
she shakes her head, fussy, and now it’s carmy’s turn to raise an impatient brow.
“what was that? speak up, baby.”
“no,” she groans, stomping her foot, trying to free her hands from behind her back, but there’s no way she’s getting out now, not if she wants to act like a brat.
“try again.”
“n—”
he yanks her into his chest, “try the fuck again.”
but when has she ever just willingly rolled over?
“let me go, carmen.”
“give me a fucking kiss, cub.”
they show up to carmy’s work gathering an hour and a half late, but who’s fucking fault is that (this, too, is a losing game)?
when they step into the venue together, all eyes immediately fall on them. how could they not?
carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the bear, and his new girl.
timothy ‘timmy’ grayson’s ex girl.
they don’t let it phase them, the side eye and poorly disguised whispering, just find their way to their way to the open bar and mingle with their inner circle.
the night quickly descends from business to casual, but that could just be because they were so late. as the older patrons slip out, the inconsequential jazz humming in the background is shut off, and then the ceiling is shaking with the bass of keep it g by asap rocky.
somehow, carmy’s on his second glass of bourbon and his girl just finished her third glass of wine and they’re…tipsy.
it’s not even like the song playing is inherently sexual, at all, really, but carmy’s lips are trailing over the back of her neck, uncoordinated—messy—and his fingers are digging into her hips because the way she’s fucking grinding on him should not be legal.
“god, cub,” he grunts in her ear, rolling his hips back into her.
“mhmm,” she moans in the back of her throat, subdued, swallowed down, and places her hands over his that grip at her like a lifeline. she lets her head fall back, settle in the crook of his neck so she can nose at the hinge of his jaw and suck a pretty hickey there, too.
he fully thrusts into her, the bass of the speakers muffling the too audible slap of their bodies connecting.
she squirms and squeaks, “bear!”
he growls, “what?”
she giggles in the shell of his ear. “down, boy. i gotta hit the restroom.”
carmy, very reluctantly, lets her slip from his grasp and venture to find the woman’s room. he nurses on another drink—whiskey, this time—but paces himself as he waits for his girl’s return.
that is, until he sees his girl in question talking with timothy fucking grayson. then, he downs the rest of his drink like water and calmly—calmly—walks up to them.
now, if (and this is a very big fucking if) carmen wasn’t being a complete a***** ******* ****** ***** *****, then maybe he would’ve noticed the rather unkempt state of his pretty broad, her soured expression and guarded body language.
he was being a complete redacted though, so he just steps behind her with his chest puffed and his jaw set, just itching for timmy to say something fucking stupid.
and that stupid fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face might scratch that itch just enough to satiate him.
“what’re y’doin’ with my girl, timmy?”
he doesn’t register the way she bristles against him at the term.
my girl.
“just makin’ friendly conversation,” he shrugs, still smirking, and carmy has never wanted his knuckles to split so fucking bad.
“friendly conversation?” he nearly coos back, the condescending, possessive prick. “why don’t y’find someone else to go make friendly conversation with, yeah? fuck off.”
he walks away before timmy boy gets the chance to respond, dragging his girl behind him.
when they make it back to the bar, he finally has the decency to assess his pretty broad. or, hound her, more like.
"what was he sayin' to you? and what the hell were you doin' with him in the fuckin' first place? if he bothers you again you come straight to me, understood?"
he's met with silence.
he frowns, looks down at his girl to find the same expression on her face, and goes to repeat himself. "i said, underst—"
"take me home, carmen."
his frown deepens. he bends in the knee to try and catch her eyes, but she turns her head away as soon as he glimpses her brown sugar irises.
"cub—"
"take me home, carmen. now."
and they've fought, all right? small tiffs here and there, "pick your fucking shoes up, carmen!", "stop fucking touching shit, carm!", "god, carmen, just leave me alone!" but this is different. deeper.
he's still frowning as he nods, mutters "okay," softly, as to not upset her any further, and places his hand on the small of her back to guide out of the venue doors and out to the valet.
usually, after a date, carmen will pull in to a parking space and get out first to open the passenger door for his girl and walk her up to her apartment, before either getting sent off with a goodnight kiss or getting tugged through her front door to continue where they'd left off.
this time, though, she out the door before the cars even full parked.
carmen rushes to keep up with her takes the stairs to her apartment two at a time.
"cub, wait up!"
she does no such thing.
in fact, she only seems to move faster in lieu of his request (brat).
he nearly misses his window to at least say goodnight to her, with the way she quickly keys into her home and tries to slam the door in his face, but a foot in the frame easily rectifies that.
"hey!" he barks at her, shoving the door open and slamming it shut after him.
"don't slam my damn door, carmen!"
"don't try to slam your damn door in my damn face, then!"
she frustratedly groans, arms flailing in exclamation. he watches her cautiously as she looks frantically for something—something, anything—before she's bending down to take off her dior heels.
clearly, something has pent up—boiled, festered—within her, because she chucks a shoe at his head (and for someone so unassuming, she has a damn good arm).
he ducks just before it can hit him, instead banging into the wall.
"what the fu— ow!"
she doesn't miss the second time.
"fuck you, carmen!" she screams at him.
"fuck you! you just threw your fucking shoe at my head! twice!"
"and you fucking deserved it," she cries, taking a step closer to him, pointing an accusatory finger. "you dick!"
"what the fuck did i do?" he shouts back, taking a step forward himself, brows furrowed in frustrated confusion.
"you— y-you—"
he takes another step toward her, "huh? i what? spit it the fuck out, baby."
not for the first time, she pouts like a kicked puppy, and her hands brace on his sturdy shoulders, and she pushes at him, angry. but, certainly for the first, carmy actually loses his balance. nearly trips over his feet with the way he stumbles backward.
"ugh, asshole! you made a bet!"
he frowns, bewildered. "what?"
"don't fucking lie to me, carm—"
"baby, what the fuck are you talking about?"
"stop fucking calling me that!" she screams, "with timothy! you made a bet with him before the fight, a bet on me!"
carmy's mouth hangs open, forming to phantom explanations that all fall too short or get too intimate—personal; she doesn't need to know the backstory, the why in his road to success. she can't, not yet. not so soon.
she shoves him again at his lack of response, and, for the second time, carmy stumbles back.
"fuck you, carmy!" she screams, eyes brimming and— fuck, she was not supposed to find out this way (well, ever, really, but surely not in this way). he racks his brain for sufficient a justification.
"fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! is that how you fucking see me? i'm just another belt you meatheads pass around and compete for? fucking kill yourselves over?"
"that's not true, baby—"
"i'm not your fucking baby!" she goes to shove him again, but he's ready this time, steeled. she throws her weight into each nudge and push and shove she gives to him, grunts and grumbles through the exertion of it, but he's stock-still like a statue now, and immovable force to be reckoned with.
"you done?" he mutters when she's huffin' and puffin' too hard to keep going.
her eyes snap from his chest to his baby blues, glaring. "fuck—!"
"—me? yeah, you've already said that, several times actually. now are you gonna let me explain, or do you wanna keep screamin'?"
her eyes, somehow, narrow further, teeth barred.
carmy prepares himself.
"do i wanna keep screamin'? well, since you fucking offered," she gripes, pounding her fists into his chest again. and he lets her. "you don't fucking think, do you? just puff your chest and fucking take it if you want it, right? god, carmen, i'm not some fucking toy—"
"i never implied that you were—"
"so you didn't bet you could fuck me better than timothy at the weigh-in?"
he snaps his mouth shut.
she scoffs, shakes her head. "un-fucking-believable," she mutters under her breath.
she sighs, and the (arguably) worst is over. but it's not like he necessarily welcomes the tears, either.
she sniffles, red-rimmed eyes sparkling in a pool of saltwater, and weakly shoves at his chest again.
"f-fuck you, bear," she weeps softly, voice cracking, head hanging, and carmy's never wanted to fix something so badly in his whole goddamn life. more than mikey. "i thought you fucking liked me—
"i do—!"
"stop lying—!"
and suddenly, carmen's had enough.
"be quiet," he barks.
the room falls silent.
he sighs, grips hers arms to keep her close and up right. drops his head to rest on hers, eye-to-eye, and she's too tuckered out to fight it.
his adams apple bobs, "i'm sorry, y/n," he whispers, and she doesn't think she's ever heard him so earnest before, so sad. "i'm sorry i made a bet on you, and hurt your feelings because of it. you're not a toy, or a belt, or any other prize, boxing or not; you're a human fucking being. and i'm sorry."
she sniffles again, and he takes her lack of shoving and yelling as clearance to continue.
"i'm not fucking sorry it worked, though." he can feel her tense, so he hurries on before she gets the wrong idea. "i'm not fucking sorry i saw you in that damn pink dress, in your damn pink heels, with you fucking pink toes. i'm not sorry that i talked to you after the match, and made good on my promise to timmy."
"carmen—"
he squeezes the sides of her shoulders, "i'm not sorry 'cause i do like you, cub, so fucking much."
she lifts her head, teary eyes blearily finding his, and she frowns up at him, like she doesn't believe him.
"why're lying?" she whimpers, all watery and sad sounding, and carmy just wants to swaddle her in a blanket and kiss her tears away.
he smiles gently at her, "m'not lyin', baby. do you think i'd still be here if all i wanted was a fuck and duck? that's what the ring girls are for, cub."
she makes a face at him, "ew! g-ross, carmy, don't—!"
he bites back a smirk. "you drive me insane," cuts her off, sliding his hands from her arms to her shea butter smooth palms. "you drive me up the fuckin' wall, actually. but i love that about you. i love that you don't take anyone's shit, including mine. love that you put me in my place, and tell me off when i step out of line." his tongue peaks out to lick his chapped bottom lip before he continues. "i love the way you curl up in a ball every night before bed because you can't sleep any other way, and i love the way you bitch and moan about your bones feelin' too stiff in the morning because of it." he regards her fondly, eyes flitting over every feature. “i love your teeth gems, and your long ass nails. i love it when you’re bare-faced and bushy-tailed, or when you’ve got a— what is it?”
she chokes on a snotty laugh, “a full beat?”
“a full beat!” he repeats, enthusiastic and beaming. they both take a moment to giggle, carmy’s hands finding purchase on her hips to draw her in, chest to chest. “i am sorry i hurt your feelings, cub, so fucking sorry. but i would make that bet ten fuckin’ thousand times over if it meant i’d end up anywhere with you.”
and now she’s crying for a whole different, much sweeter reason.
she pouts at him cutely, “bearrr!”
and it’s like nothing even happened.
“whaaat?” he groans, feigning annoyance. “snotty girl, look at those tears,” he tuts, “such a crybaby.”
“that’s not fair—!”
“hush,” he muses, walking them back toward her bedroom, deft fingers working to unfasten the many buttons of her dress. “you talk too much, anyone ever told you that? whatever, you should let me fuck you.”
“what?”
“you should let me fuck you.”
“you literally ate me out for an hour before we left, that’s why we were so fucking late. and who says you fuckin’ deserve it?”
carmy smirks, that’s his girl.
fuckin’ trouble.
he quirks a brow at her, fingers pausing their decent.
“you gonna let me earn it?”
a/n: hope u like it babies bc getting this done made me SICK (im serious i can’t fucking breathe right or swallow properly anymore 🙂‍↔️🫶🏽)
not proofread!!
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bettyfrommars · 1 year
Text
In the Closet
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
🚨18+ Only, MDNI, smut, oneshot, forced proximity, enemies to lovers, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (m receiving), cum shot, mention of alcohol consumption, smoking weed, semi-public sex, cum rag. Word count: 2k
You were invited to a surprise party for Steve Harrington, but so was Eddie Munson, and you really cannot stand him. But when you're forced to hide in a closet together, your resolve is tested.
A/N: I've been working on an Eddie series where the smut has not been introduced yet, and I needed to get my fix.
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It’s 1989 and there’s a surprise birthday party for Steve at the house he shares with Robin. You were invited, but so was Eddie “the freak” Munson, and just the thought of having to be in his orbit made you want to retract your RSVP. You’d been friends with Robin a while, and every time Eddie came to visit, he always reeked of weed and cigarettes, and he insisted on calling you Princess, even though you clearly hated the nickname. He was abrupt and juvenile, and god, did he even have a job besides selling drugs? And the music he listened to? You accidentally heard a W.A.S.P. song once months ago, and you were still upset about it.
His van was one of the last cars to pull up and park behind the garage, out of sight, and you went into the other room to mingle, hoping he wouldn’t approach you but still, he caught your eye across the room, lifting a can of beer can in greeting, a cigarette pressed between his lips. “Heyyyy Princess,” he beamed, as if he was mocking the fact that you were repulsed by him.
You headed down the hallway to use the bathroom, and once you washed your hands and were on the way back, Eddie Munson was there blocking your path. He pushed off the wall, a freshly lit joint in his hand, and extended it to you.
“You look like you need to relax.” His chest rose and he kicked his chin up so that the smoke from his lips would go over your head instead of in your face, a slight cough choking in his throat.
You grimaced and made a scene of waving the skunk smoke away with your hand. “I’m plenty relaxed, thank you,” you told him, but mostly it was to convince yourself. Eddie maintained eye contact with you as he put the cherry of the joint out on his palm and slipped the joint in his front pocket of his vest, as if he had only lit it for you.
But then the music in the living room cut out and Robin hissed, “shit! He’s early! Everyone hide!”
Crap.
You could hear Steve’s keys jangling in the front door as everyone found hiding places in the living room, and kitchen, but you were stuck in the hallway with Heady Eddie, and you were about to give the whole thing away because Steve was seconds from stepping into the hallway.
“In here!” You whispered through gritted teeth at Eddie, grabbing the back of his denim battle vest as he stood with a bewildered look on his face.
You whisked him into the small closet with you, pulling the door closed with the cautious precision someone would use to disarm a bomb.
Thank god Steve and Robin had just recently moved into this new house because the tiny closet only had three hanging shirts and two jackets in it. You could feel Steve’s footsteps clap down the hall, he stopped right in front of the closet and called Robin’s name, and you held your breath. The space you were trapped in was longer than it was deep and at first you didn’t realize you were pressing your back up against Eddie, and he was starting to like it.
“How long should we---” Eddie breathed in your ear, but your nerves were on edge, and you spun around, using the palms of your hands to pin his shoulders to the back wall of the closet.
“Shut up, Munson,” you hissed. It was dark in that confined space, and you could only see the outline of each other’s faces, but your lips were barely inches apart, your legs straddling his, and then his fingers started curling at your sides, pulling you closer, and your pussy started to blossom in ways you didn’t understand.
You gasped, “oh shit…” just before your mouth crashed onto his, teeth hitting first in your urgency, and then eager tongues searching deep. His hair fell into your face and smoothed it back behind his ear, your mouth never leaving his. You didn’t know what was happening; you were possessed. “Can I touch you?” Eddie whispered, aching to put his hand between your legs. You nodded, just as your hand slid down to palm his growing cock through his denim. You untucked his shirt from his jeans so that your hands could be on the warm skin of his stomach and his chest.
Out in the living room everyone yelled, “SURPRISE!” and jumped out from their respective hiding places, blowing party horns and turning up the music, while you and Eddie made frantic work of undoing each others belts, hands sliding down to fondle each other. Your pussy fluttered as his thick fingers curled in, bypassing your underwear to sink deep and then he moaned against your mouth, “you’re already so wet for me.”
“Shhhhh,” you said against his lips, but then you both giggled, caught off guard by the ridiculousness of it all. Eddie removed his hand from down your pants, wondering if maybe this was the cue to pull yourselves together and head out.
But you dropped to your knees, lifting up his shirt to kiss his salty stomach as you went, feeling your way around, along the map of his hair arrow, drifting down to darker waters. Eddie made a small mew sound in the back of his throat, throwing his head back with disbelief.
“Can I?” You perched there in a squat, waiting to know if he was just as caught up in the moment as you were.
“Um, yeah? Yesyesyes. You can have whatever you want, ghaaa,” he hissed, placing his hand on the top of your head so that he knew your location, feeling safer to speak as the party in the living room got louder.
You were fumbling around in such close proximity, that when you pulled Eddie’s boxers down the rest of the way, his unnervingly huge, curved cock sprang out and caught you in the face, juicing pre-cum onto your cheek.
“Sorry!” Eddie said, but then he couldn’t think about anything anymore because your soft lips were on the tip of his cock, your tongue flicking the underside ridge, your wet mouth taking him deep and making him shiver.
Eddie cursed himself for forgetting to jerk off that morning, because he was about to give you a bad impression. “I—I---do you want me to cum like that?”
You weren’t sure why, but the fact that he was already close after only minutes in the closet with you made a smile float your cheeks up, but then you were up on straight legs again, kissing him, thinking God, how could kissing Eddie Munson feel this good? His tongue was greedy and sweet and he made soft noises of pleasure when you did things that he liked. You slid your hands up over his shoulders to help him remove his jacket, and he threw it in the corner, his fingers quickly returning to arch up deep inside of you, metal rings clicking together, making you press your open mouth to his neck so that you wouldn’t cry out loud in pleasure.
Out in the rest of the house, alcohol was flowing, and all of the attention was on Steve, but a few people, especially Robin, did look around, wondering where the two of you got off to. She recalled seeing Eddie procure a freshly rolled joint as he sauntered around the corner, and she assumed the two of you were getting high somewhere. She’d never known you to do any recreational drugs before, but there was a first time for everything, and Eddie was a pretty persuasive guy.
“Inside me?” you begged against Eddie’s mouth, pushing your pants down further and pressing up against the clothing at the other end of the space, bracing on your forearms.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie muttered, mostly to himself, elated, holding onto your bare hips to line up with you. He ran the head of his cock down through your swollen lips, juicy and ready for him; oh god, you were so ready. He could smell the sweet tang of your arousal as it dripped down your inner thigh and you pushed your hips back to meet him, eagerly, his tip sinking in.
“Ohmygodohmygod...this is…you feel like heaven,” Eddie murmured on the wings of a sharp intake of breath, taking his time to enjoy the sensation of stretching you out, his feet planted on either side of your yours to secure you. He noticed you bring your hand down to swipe at your clit, and he sunk in all the way, aching for it as much as you were.
Soon, his hips were sawing, wet skin slapping as your two bodies connected, and you arched your head back as he buried himself deep inside, whimpering every so often and pausing suddenly as he tried not to cum too soon.
But, you were close now, working your hand between your legs, feeling the release mounting.
“EddieEddieEddie...I’m about to….” and then it happened, and the coil snapped. You trembled as your eyes rolled back, coating his cock with your cum, knees weak at the wave that overtook you. The gravity of the sneaky, impossible situation sinking you deeper into orgasm; white hot whips of a damn good, balls deep dick-down.
Eddie cursed, edging on the grip of a release that could possibly blow a hole through you, so he had to pull out with a broken cry, already missing you as his fist pumped ropes of cum onto your backside, twitching, “you feel too good baby girl.”
You felt some land as far up as your bra strap, your shirt pulled up around your neck, and he kept pumping, mining the mother load of sweet seed across your flesh. He braced his hand on the wall, his shoulders heaving, and then he patted your butt with a few tender taps, his throat dry, “goddamn, that was hot.”
The two of you didn’t exchange many words as you got dressed, but Eddie had a plain white undershirt on beneath his Metallica t-shirt, and so he used that to clean you up and wipe the cum off your back. You didn’t ask him to, he just started doing it, and you waited for him to finish, “I think I got it all,” he said, and then you pulled your pants up the rest of the way.
You were both beet red in the face when you finally opened the closet door, from exertion and from the dank stuffiness of the confined space. You went out first, and the plan was for Eddie to stay in the closet a few minutes longer, take the cum shirt back to his van, and then rejoin the party so that it wouldn’t look suspicious---so that no one would know what happened between the two of you.
You fixed your hair in the hallway and straightened your shoulders, ready to face the crowd, and deal with the apologies for disappearing on everyone like that. You took a few steps, and then your mind went to Eddie waiting in that hot closet, counting down, doing exactly what you told him to do, which was basically to save you the humiliation of letting people know you’d been with him. It had to be this way; a lot of your friends were at that party. People you knew from work and old classmates from high school who knew you as the Homecoming Princess. You couldn’t let them see you like this, with him.
You went to the end of the hallway, got Robin’s attention, and waved at her to let her know you were alive, and then made the decision to go back and wait for Eddie.
He was shocked to see you when he finally came out. His eyebrows pinched together, the cum shirt balled up in his hand. “What are are you doing here? I thought we--”
But then you stepped forward and kissed him, on the lips, gently, and took hold of his free hand, the one with all the big, metal rings, intertwining your fingers with his.
“We’ll go together,” you told him, catching the way his throat jerked at the sentiment, his eyes sparkling.
“Yeah?” He asked, unsure, squeezing your hand.
“Yeah.” You said, with the deepest sincerity.
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