#i'm sorry i have to show *her* but to be fair she's getting choked so

[fillinforlater]

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

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!”

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. 

“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.

“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.

“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. 

“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.

“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. 

“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.

“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.

“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?”

“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.”

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.

“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. 

“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.

“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!”

“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.

“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.

“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.”

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!”

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.

“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—

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.” 

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.”

“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)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #oh my girl smut #izone smut #ive smut #lesserafim smut #twice smut #dreamcatcher smut #loona smut #snsd smut #aespa smut #nmixx smut #kep1er smut #gidle smut #everglow smut #clc smut #mamamoo smut #kpop soloist smut #iu smut #itzy smut #i.o.i smut #blackpink smut #just testing #male reader insert

[iznsfw]

Drunken

Loossemble's Son Hyeju x Male Reader Smut

19,012 words

Categories | cheating, longtimecrush!Hyeju, mutual feelings, drunk sex, daddy kink (and daddy issues), fingering, squirting, titfucking, anal, choking

Thank you for commissioning! Researched for the fic, ended up falling in love with Son Hyeju. Please give this a chance and read this for the story, too, and not only the smut. I indulged too much in this.

The relationship Hyeju and OC have is very much inspired by the one Cassy and Rob have in In the Woods by Tana French. Read it, please. Was amazing. The story was also written with someone I'm currently so in love with in mind, but we're not going to talk about that here.

And no, there's never enough daddy kink stories :P

“This is not fair,” the two of you say the very second you step into your shared dorm.

Two papers in two hands of two people that show two scores that aren’t up to par for the two’s standards. You and Hyeju were always meant to be a dynamic duo: peas in a pod in every way possible, and that includes academic success and failure. It’s like there’s a kind of telepathic force between you that sends the other down with you, too. It’s too late to try and cut the connection when you’ve known Hyeju all your life, a wish that’s beyond reality for plenty of the boys at Idalso.

The dorm is clean. Mostly. You’ve done your best to tidy up the pile of clothes at the end of Hyeju’s bunk bed and she’s done the same for the relatively empty bags of chips you haven’t stopped the habit of laying around, but there’s still the telltale signs that if Hyeju isn’t organized, you aren’t either. Printed drafts of your thesis lay crumpled on the floor. Her posters are minutes away from falling off the poorly painted walls. The air-conditioner doesn’t work as well as it did in your freshman year when your rowdiness outdoors—knocking into each other, trying to race to the door and ending up messing up the other’s clothes that were ironed in a rush—isn’t as compensating.

Today, the rowdiness is lost. It gets translated into rough groans that follow you on the way to the dorms.

That’s when you realize it.

You and Hyeju look at each other. Both of your pairs of eyes widen.

“Miss Ha failed your test?” she asks, normally bored pupils widening in disbelief.

“Miss Ha failed my test.”

“No erasure rule?”

“No erasure rule.”

“Oh my god.”

“Oh my god.”

Ball up the paper and shoot it in the air. It adds to the numerous pieces of parchment on the floor. You kick the rest of them in the air while your roommate slumps on her bed and groans. 

“Fuck this,” you say, hands on your head. There comes the urge to tear all your hair out and leave it at that damned professor’s door, blood and all, to make her at least feel a miniscule bit of remorse for failing you. You didn’t deserve that. You studied and studied and she still had to implement that stupid rule.

Hyeju catches a wrinkled and crumpled paper globe. Her sui generis lips release a soft sigh. “At least we have thesis confetti,” she says sullenly.

“I’m dropping out,” you declare. You’re surprised at how serious you sound. Normally you’d say it just to get a laugh out of yourself, but now you’re actually considering doing it. 

“If you drop out, I’m dropping out, too,” she answers, looking at you spitefully. “And then who’s going to take care of Daniel?”

Think of Daniel. He isn’t your roommate but he’s gotten close with you and Hyeju the past few years. “His inheritance is what’s gonna take care of him. Did you forget he’s rich as shit?”

“Oh, right. How could I forget about him?” 

You start picking up the papers of your drafts faster and knocking them harder into the wall. Why are you doing that? Nope, don’t have an answer to that. There’s a fiery rage inside you that Hyeju’s latest sentence is the arsonist of. 

“The fuck are you doing?” she asks in amusement. There’s a hint of disgust on her face. “Calm down. What’re you, my dad or something?”

“S-sorry.” You know the whole deal she has with her dad. You have to stop—thus, drop the balls of papyrus from your hand. “It was just… I don’t know why I did that.”

Maybe you do. Can’t be about the test though it’s why you started throwing a thesis tantrum.

“Chill out, dude.” She pats your shoulder and gives you a pouty look. “If you want to play strict dad with me: no, I don’t like Daniel. If I did, I would have sat on his lap and said,” she assumes a high voice and flutters her eyelashes at you, leaning on your side, “‘Let me help you with that, darling. I’ll do the dishes, too! Or maybe you want to put a baby in me while I squeeze the soap on your di—’”

“Stoooop!” 

Throw a pillow at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at you. Oh yeah. How could you forget that she plays dodgeball with the friend who’s taken up the topic of your conversation? 

Oh god, shouldn’t have reminded yourself that Hyeju and your other friend hang out. You’re feeling weird again.

“Earth to daddy, Earth to daddy,” she says, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Li’l shit, what’s gotten into you?”

You’re feeling something again. It creeps into your heart and tugs at its strings, just like how your roommate loves to tie knots in yours and watch you struggle around trying to walk with them. That’s how it felt when she called you that. It’s not the first time she took on a roleplaying banter with you yet that specific title has you hot. 

You need to take a walk. Take a walk to somewhere that doesn’t have you in a place where you could easily pin Son fucking Hyeju to the wall and kiss her till the heat subsides.

-

Walking is your only exercise. You care not for the gyms and weights—why pressure yourself with those when you could just go for a simple walk? An hour is already sufficient enough to burn the breakfast. Only downside is that you get quite hungry afterwards, and though you don’t care for counting calories either, you’re pretty sure the food you have after your strolls is more than the amount you burned.

Actually, you could think of another downside: Hyeju doesn’t join you. She’s a homebody. A couch potato. A living pillow. She prefers to lounge at the dorm and play games instead of going out. She rarely comes along, which is why you’re guaranteed a few hours of isolation.

When you take into consideration that it isn’t isolation if tentative feelings accompany you, you’re partly glad Hyeju didn’t come along.

“Hey, is that you?”

You smile. There he is. You always pass by the apartments this time, and the old man who owns it is one of the few people you’re fond of. Being friends with a landlord wasn’t on your college bingo card, but you’re glad it happened. He’s kind, has white hair that almost matches the color of the spaces he owns, and a mouth that can simultaneously be like that of a sailor’s and a doting grandfather.

“Hi, mister Kim.”

“Hi there yourself,” he chirps. His smile is bright. Can’t say the same about the flickering bulb back in your dorm. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

Red colors your cheeks. “Hyeju’s not my girlfriend.”

“Never said she was.” He winks.

The explosion of scarlet first starts at your ears. He got you. But it isn’t exactly you to blame—everyone likes to push you and your girl best friend together. The old man knows what he’s doing. He just likes to toy around with you. 

“Mister Kim, don’t be like that,” you say. Scratch the back of your neck.

“I’ll be however the hell I want,” he replies, crossing his arms t in a friendly stance. “You two’re always glued to each other.”

“We’re just friends, sir.”

“Just friends my ass. Whenever that girl visits me, she’s always talking about you. It’s like you’re the only thing on her mind.”

That revelation was so out of nowhere, yet you welcome it. You like knowing that Hyeju, the girl you adore, adores you just as much. It’s the mutual feeling of fondness that keeps you breathing. 

“T-that doesn’t mean anything,” you say humbly. You’re somewhat right—just because Hyeju hides the truth that she drones on about you doesn’t mean she has a crush on you. You’ve seen and met her exes, and even back then they’re miles more charming than you.

“Wanna bet?”

“I’m broke—”

“No, no. Not in that way.” He shakes his head. “If you and Hyeju actually end up together, I’m letting you live in one of my apartments for free.”

“Mister Kim—”

“Think about it for your old man, will you?”

With that, he shows you a knowing smile and turns his back. Nothing more is said.

-

Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.

Anyone and everyone says the opposite. They treat you and her like famed characters on a popular teen show, pairing you up with each other and tearing off all hesitancy about thinking that they might be going too far. 

But now you’re here to make a stand against those falsehoods: contrary to popular belief, Son Hyeju isn’t the love of your life, and although you’ve been friends for so long people’d expect you walked into kindergarten class with your hand in hers, it’s completely platonic between the two of you.

There are no feelings. No speck of a disgusting yearning in your hearts despite the late night stroll you had to take to stop your wistful thoughts. No sir. Hyeju doesn’t love you that way, and neither do you. It’s simple.

Doesn’t seem that simple when you wake up in the dorm with what’s supposed to be a groan that folds itself back down your throat when you see her curled up in the other bed, blankets splayed and curled around her. No makeup on, except for lip balm she smears around her triangle-shaped mouth when they get chapped. No care for how she looks in the air (doesn’t matter when that’s the way you like it, the way she likes it). She lies there with slumber that could only be induced by an unmerciful college.

You’re glad you have her while you’re battered by the same cause of her sleep.

You try to be silent but her eyes open anyway. Her eyes are squinted, and she kind of looks like an emoticon as she pers around. She doesn’t know when or where she is. Grin because neither do you sometimes, but now that you hold that knowledge, you share it with her.

“Earth to Hyeju, Earth to Hyeju.” Echo her words from last night and resound them back to her.

“Earth?” she groans. “Wake me up when Idalso sends me to Mars.”

Yeah, that’s the Hyeju you know. The Hyeju you love. 

(Huh? Where did that come from?)

“I’ll go with you. Could use miss Jeong not trying to kill me.”

Hyeju runs a hand through her hair groggily and smiles sweetly. “Maybe she should come along and go through with killing you if you don’t stop ‘forgetting’ to pay me that five thousand.”

“Cute. I’ll pay you later, I promise.” Rise to sling the blinds up, letting light five-thirty a.m. sun spill through the squares. “Catch some breakfast at McDonald’s before class?” you offer. She’s your usual companion in the morning—you’d split the bill (because “you’re broke, and I’m broke,” she said, “it’s only fair we try to stop being poor together”) and have a nice opening meal of egg and chicken nuggets.

“Sweetie, it’s Saturday today,” she reminds you. “Don’t you remember?” She looks up from her phone and smiles at you condescendingly, as if she knew how that friendly nickname causes your system to shut down. 

You try not to show it. Try not to make it obvious that you turned your head to hide the fact that you were flustered. The fact that despite being only friends with her your chest still tightens at her casual pet names for you, like what she called you last night as well. It’s what friends do: joke with each other, call them unflattering names one second then sweet ones the next. The dorm has enough fans to keep the air circulated, and the sweat you broke last night is gone. So if that’s that, why do you feel so warm right now?

You wonder if Hyeju also feels the same heat in her stomach when you say, “Grandpa can’t remember things well anymore, darling. You’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“Wow, okay. That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

It’s lucky that it’s still dark enough for your red ears to be invisible. You hate it when you mess up your laid-back persona in front of Hyeju, the one you put up whenever you engage in these playful arguments. “Look,” you say, “do you want to get McDonald’s or not?”

“Can’t. Won’t. Shan’t. Too lazy.”

Your heart sinks. “Fine, I’ll just go to a café then. Still have that thesis to do.”

Hyeju lays back into the bed and shuts her eyes. She’s learned that when there’s a chance to sleep, she should take it. To you, it doesn’t look like she’ll let go of this one, even if rejecting it means eating together with you. 

You put on a coat and some shoes, then turn away. Fine, let her be like that. What did you even expect? You can’t be her only priority in life. Sleep, of course, and rest should come first, especially if you’re a college student. You have to brush the hurt creeping in your heart and do your own thing, just like you’d let her do hers.

Don’t catch her eyes opening and lingering on you. Your back is turned and therefore doesn’t let you see it. But if only you did, you wouldn’t have been doubtful about your future concerns, all related to her.

-

This is a different story though. This isn’t a love story—if anything, it’s how a love story ends.

-

Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.

Yes, it bears repeating. Sometimes you need to say it again to convince yourself. Convince yourself that you’re not constantly in lectures wishing that it was her beside you instead of your groupmate. Convince yourself that your soul doesn’t shatter in pieces when she refuses to join you in anything. 

Maybe you just need someone to talk it out with. Yes, that’s right. The whimsical yearning in your heart isn’t for Hyeju. You swear on it.

Oh, but you’ve never been very good at that.

“What’s going on? I came as quick as I could,” says Daniel. Yeah, that’s his name. It’s a common name that sounds foreign and unique, especially since he’s a transfer student who came from the U.S.. He has pale skin and brown eyes that are as kind as he is. You like him—he’s the only one you bother bearing besides Hyeju.

But this isn’t about her. You need to let go of her. What? “Let go of her”? Why do you think about her like you two were actually a thing?

“Nothing. Just… feelings.”

“Something happened?” He sits down and looks around confusedly. “Wait, where’s Hyeju?”

“That’s the thing,” you say as you smile tightly. “She’s what happened.”

Daniel’s not stupid. And even if we say that he was, he’s been your friend for two years. It’s short in comparison to your time with Hyeju, you know, but it remains impressive. You don’t have that many friends besides them. That, of course, eventually led to Hyeju and Daniel becoming friends with each other. That’s the reason for him catching your drift—he knows you like the back of his hand.

You order the third cheapest option on the list: an iced latte. Your friend opts for a croissant and some tea, something that reminds you that he isn’t actually from Korea. You often forget that when his Korean is more fluent than a native’s and he gels with other people so quickly. He’s an easy-going guy with everything flowing well for him.

“Let me guess: she did something?” he asks. Alright, close enough. His fingers drum a steady rhythm on the table while yours do so on your laptop keyboard.

“Yeah.” Shake your head immediately and contradictingly. What are you saying? “No. Yeah, probably. But I think it’s my fault.”

No, it isn’t a mere probability of it being your fault. It is your fault. Why are you placing expectations on Hyeju to show up for you? It isn’t on her that you get hurt when she doesn’t have the time or willpower to come along with you. So, why are you even bothering to talk about this? You should let this matter slide. Brush it under the carpet. Rewrite the news headlines. Whatever.

“Ah, couple’s quarrels,” Daniel says teasingly. He thanks the waiter for his croissant then takes a healthy bite into it. “Out of the honeymoon phase already?”

Should you be delighted that people think that she’s yours and you’re hers? You’re split between these two emotions—choose to be frustrated instead.

“Why does everybody think that we’re a couple?” 

“Well.” Your friend twirls his teaspoon into the dainty cup. Drill your eyes on it. The café is simple and affordable to eat from, but the furniture and aesthetic make you think of it as a fancier place to eat it. “You’re always together.”

“That’s all?”

“Let me finish. When some guy has the balls to ask her out, she says she has a boyfriend. She shows him your profile and number. She goes, ‘My boyfriend wouldn’t be too happy about that.’”

The latte somehow doesn’t finish its journey through the straw. “She does?”

You’re split between two thoughts to go by again. You should be happy that your friend, a friend who’s a girl moreover (never confuse a friend who’s a girl with a girlfriend—ever), feels safe enough with you to refer to you as someone who’d protect her, whether from creeps or the aggressive dogs that patrol your college grounds. It takes real trust to call a guy who’s a friend (again, avoid the confusion) your boyfriend when the time requires it. This means she trusts you to come to her if she needs saving from an odd guy or an escape out of situations.

But at the same time, you wonder if that’s what you really are to her, what you’ll only ever be to her: a fake boyfriend. The guy friend who doesn’t mind being called a boyfriend because he knows his low place in her heart. Does Hyeju even look at you as someone who’s not just an acquaintance?

“Yeah,” Daniel says matter-of-factly. “She really likes having you around.”

You don’t need to think about it when you reply, softly: “I do, too.”

The two of you sit in silence you don’t know the source of. Daniel stops eating suddenly. Similarly, all the appetite is lost and you have to put your plastic cup of latte down before you throw it at the wall and ruin the dining experience for everyone else. No, this is your problem. You should deal with it before dragging anyone into it.

“So, why did you call me? What is it about Hyeju?”

Ah, what are you thinking? Daniel shouldn’t even be here. Why did you even call him over? You did and now you don’t know why you suddenly want to throw the contents of your plastic cup into his face. If you give in, you’d be feeding into the delusion that he’s the one standing between you and Hyeju. 

That only leads to the second question of the day:

Why do you suddenly hate Daniel? Daniel is a nice guy. He doesn’t even make a move on her or disrespect her. 

You don’t like these feelings. It’s causing you to think all sorts of nonsense about everybody else, not excluding Daniel, who hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“I…” Sigh. This is the second time you’re finding an escape route so that you could be alone with your feelings. “I have to think about it. I need some time alone.”

“Oh, sure. Sorry about that.”

Hate how more guilt washes over your heart. See here, he doesn’t even protest or say something that might even be right, like tell you how you called him to come over in the first place or how there isn’t a good reason why he should leave. He simply wraps his croissant with a plastic he asked for at the counter and leaves, tea and all.

Great. Now you’re alone, like you usually are and always will be. Attempt to use it as a pro and work on your thesis. Type it all down on a Word document. Wait patiently, as you learned to, as your old laptop stops for the suffering you’ve caused it with the extra storage taken up by assignments. Contact your groupmates. Remind them to do their jobs.

It’s all going so well. That’s when she pulls up to the cafe you’ve been writing at with her hands perched on the wooden surface of your table, with the smirk that doesn’t ever leave without making sure it’s her certified look featured on her lips.

No need to mention names when there's only one girl who could make your world stop spinning.

You can’t stop staring, and it’s not even because she turned up out of nowhere. You’re always in a state of shock when Hyeju is around.

She never allows her hair to be restrained in a tight tail, so there she is with those luscious black locks spilling all over her shoulders. How she manages to look so cool and be the very person everyone wishes to be while having those soft cheeks only the evillest of people wouldn’t pinch you don’t know. Son Hyeju is cool and cute at the same time, somehow balancing those everyday without effort.

But you don’t love her. Just to remind everyone once again. No matter what happens, you have no feelings for her. And that’s that.

"Hey," she says, putting her weight on one arm. Then she curves down her head to peer at your screen. "Whatchu doin'?"

Immediately slam your laptop shut and look at her with annoyed eyes. Oh, why do you even try? You could never despise her. You could pray to god all night and day for you to hate Hyeju, to hate her to the ends of the Earth just to banish these strange feelings, and he wouldn't give in. Crazier and crazier her antics shall get and you'd remain loyal to her.

And that's all because she's a good friend. That's everything there is to it. 

Wait. Who are you convincing again?

"Oh, come on. Smile a little, pretty boy." Hyeju places a finger on one edge of your mouth then pulls it upwards. "There you go. Suh-miiile—"

Pretty boy. She called me a pretty boy.

"You p-plan on getting off the table or what?" you say.

People are staring at you and Hyeju but that isn't what's making you blush. What's gotten into you? You can't tell yourself it's because of her simply because it isn't because of her. Hyeju has as much effect on you as a cup of coffee.

(You thrive off caffeine, by the way, but that's not the point.)

"Sure. No. Uh… probably?" She looks up at the ceiling as if she's figuring something out, then clicks her tongue when she does. "Yep, nah."

Groan. 

Secretly, confessed only in the deepest corners of your mind, you like people paying attention to you and Hyeju. It’s not much about the attention itself but the way it makes them think that the two of you must be really close. Like, really really close. The kind that makes those who want Hyeju rush to her only to be met in the face with a barrier: you. They can’t have her because you do.

Not in that way, of course, but it still means something. If she has you, nobody else could, and if you have her, more so.

"Son Hyeju,” you say, fighting back the smile on your face as she ruffles your hair, “I swear to god—"

"Oh, please," says Hyeju, leaning forward with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile, "spare me, oppa. Spare me the blasphemy—"

That's enough from her, you think. Your hands dive for her waist. Pull her down onto your lap. Your thighs soften the blow and also play the role of a launch pad as one kick sends Hyeju in the air. More chances to tickle her come along with it. Okay, that bit about the lap was wholly unintentional, and you'll swear to god again for that. 

What isn't unintended though is the tickling you do on Hyeju's midriff and arms. It helps that she's so sensitive—soon she's laughing boisterously, struggling in your lap with her head upturned and triangle-shaped mouth letting out unkempt guffaws. She nearly kicks the two of you out of the café seat.

"Dude, you are such a loser, stop!" she laughs, still winding around like a screw on top of you. Laughs alternate between each syllable. "P-people are looking, fffucking quit—"

When that beautiful gummy smile breaks on her face, you don't want to. People can look as much as they like and you wouldn't give a damn. Tickling is Hyeju's punishment, and you'll do it to her anywhere to teach her a lesson.

"Ha, haha, I'm sorry, okay!"

"That's my girl." 

You’re not hurt anymore. For a few delicious minutes, you’ll forget you were ever pondering if you like her or not.

Stop completely because you’re easy to convince like that All she needed was that one magic word. Place her on the chair beside you and fold her hands on her lap as if she were a misbehaving child. 

"Now behave yourself."

Hyeju rolls her eyes. "And if I don't?" she challenges you. 

You raise your fingers in a curled position and direct them threateningly centimeters away from her ticklish spots. She gives up. She can't find a punishment worse than that.

"Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn’t want to come," you say, taking the liberty to open your laptop again. The screen directs you to your assignment tab after you type in your password. Sigh; still five thousand words to go. 

"I'm here because I've got nowhere else to be," she answers. She practices her own liberty, too, and sips shamelessly at your iced beverage.

Her eyes light up at the taste. "I got bored being alone in the dorm."

You think of her alone, and your heart immediately sinks. Maybe you should have stayed there. You’re her roommate—you’re there for her to have company. Sure, the roommates were paired up randomly, but it must lead to something now that you and Hyeju have met again. It was by pure chance that she reunited with you after years of being apart. There’s a string drawing you together, and you don’t know what it means. 

You do know that the reunion with your childhood best friend and seeing how she’s grown made your heart flutter. You act all mean when you’re around her, which is confusing when you’ve missed her so much.

"And I needed somewhere else to finish this thesis before miss Wong realizes it was due three weeks ago." Glare pointedly at her. Here you go again. Told you so. "Somewhere that's not occupied by a brat."

It's true. Call it what you will: an insult, a pointless accusation, but what you said rings true even in your childhood best friend's defiant mind. She could be a handful often.

"I am not a brat," she says, offended. She knows the truth and chooses to deny it. Typical. You should have seen that coming when she’s the girl who lies about the extra dishes in the sink not being her fault and her turn with the laundry.

Sigh. Act as the lawyer; you’re studying to be one anyway. It’s best to practice. "Remember when you cut up the slogan on the mayo label then taped it on me? I had 'white creamy filling; taste me!' on my back for the whole day!" 

"It was a big-ass sticker for a mayonnaise, okay? I couldn't stop myself." Hyeju admits this with hands raised in defeat. "But what about that time you shoved a Toblerone in my mouth while I was sleeping then took a photo of me?"

Raise your hands, too. You realize there's no way to weigh in the blame on a single person when you and Hyeju brought the brat out of each other. It's impossible to go by a day that isn't filled by at least one prank and joking quarrels.

Still, you find it fun. Hyeju's so easy to bond with, so easy to love. 

Whoa, where did that suddenly get here? Like you said, you love Hyeju, but only as a friend. 

So you do love her, in a way. Huh. 

That realization settles in and suddenly you're rendered frozen at the table. Your hands that ought to be finishing your schoolwork are frozen in mid-air. You're staring at the screen like you were watching a gory movie instead of trying to tick off your to-do list. 

"You okay?" she asks, one-of-a-kind lips sealed around the paper straw. "You kind of, like, went to another dimension for a bit."

How do you tell her you’re considering the fact that you might actually like her? You’ve known her for years. Something’s inevitably going to bloom inside you for her, right?

"Y-yeah. I'm good." Not. “And stop drinking my coffee.”

“You wouldn’t need it if you just did the thesis early. What’s so hard about it anyway?” Hyeju stands then bends over to glance at your laptop.

You don’t realize how short her dress is. It rides up to the centers of her thighs and you don’t know how to prevent anyone from seeing something forbidden without brushing down the hem of her dress. If you went down that road, you’d have to run your hand along her back and ass—you’d look like a pervert. 

Idiot. Think of something. Something that isn’t how you’d love to see more when you're just like everyone and shouldn't be allowed more eye access to her body. Only you know how many times Hyeju’s body came up in your mind when you were alone. Paired up with that attractive face that held a permanent pout, it’s impossible not to think of anything else. 

“Ugh! You are so dumb, you know that, oppa?” To your horror, Hyeju sits down neatly on your lap. She has her hands quickly frisking on your keyboard. “There’s a comma missing here, and a citation over here… oh, and a—”

“Save some for the rest of us!” a man about your age and height yells jokingly, cheering you on with a raise of his mug of hot coffee.

Both you and Hyeju look at him with confusion written all over your faces. Your words of surprise almost sync and match with the other for you realize your hands are on her hips, and Hyeju’s leaning back so comfortably in you that anyone would have thought it was another case of couple’s PDA. They’d be wrong though. She’s not your girlfriend. She can’t be your girlfriend.

So why is she so comfortable on top of you, as if she’s always been there? Why did your hands naturally rest on the beautiful slopes of her hips and pull her down the moment she stooped?

The guy’s grandmother smiles adoringly. “Young love,” she says with a dreamy tinge to her aged voice. "What wouldn't I give to experience that again."

You and Hyeju meet each other’s gazes and suddenly you’re unattached to each other. She guiltily settles on her chair and you take your hands off her. That was wrong. Why were the two of you so comfortable with being so touchy? Best friends don’t do that. At least, not best friends of the opposite sex. 

“I should go,” she stammers, standing up. “Call me i-if you need help, oppa.”

Just like that, she’s gone. Where did she go? Why did you lose her so fast?

-

Hyeju’s always called you oppa one way or another, but that moment left a particular jar in your heart. It shards the depths of the core and renders you speechless. You didn’t know that the person you’d love to hear that title the most from is your best friend. She’s supposed to call you that when she’s younger, but even if she weren’t, you’d still love to hear her call you that.

There’s a sense of fulfillment in being able to be Hyeju’s oppa. The one she always relies on. The one she sticks to through whatever happens. That’s why now that she’s told you to call her if you need help makes you ache. It’s the things that are seemingly so simple as that that send more yearning inside you.

The question is: what exactly are you yearning for? Who are you yearning for?

You think you know the answer. It’d take guts to admit it, to finally come clean. But what’s there to come clean about? You don’t love Hyeju. 

A ding from your phone just now. You’re nearly finished with the thesis, and it’s lucky that way since it’s from Hyeju. God knows she has ways of distracting you. Her clean moves at the dance she led and her chill yet stern voice when she commands a rowdy classroom steer you away from what you should be doing, like get away from her. Avoid her at all costs. Never tell her what you’re feeling because it’ll only end up badly for everyone involved. You don’t want to hurt Hyeju, and still you remain hopeful to not get yourself hurt, too.

It takes several seconds for courage to tie you down and pick up the phone. It’s a series of texts from her.

HyejU_U: hey

Sooooooooo

I’m sorry for what happened earlier. 

I didn’t really think and thought that you'd be fine with it

cause yknow

You pulled me down

and

We’re friends.

right?

Yeah, we’re friends, you think bitterly. And no matter how touchy you get, Son Hyeju, it’s all we’ll ever be to you.

HyejU_U: can we just move forward from it? If you want to ofc

Do you? Graduation is near and it’s still taken plenty of years of your life to get over Hyeju. Do you go forward and start on a new slate with her, or dwell in places you shouldn’t be?

Your fingers linger on the keyboard, then—

You: Sure.

Sorry, too

if i like

Made you feel uncomfortable

Wasnt my intention, i promise

HyejU_U: oh you didnt make me feel uncomfy at all.

So don’t worry <3

What a relief.

HyejU_U: i should be the one apologizing anyway

I thought it would be nice to be on you since ur arms feel good around me

Cock a brow. A giddy smile itches at the ends of your lips. Stifle it you will, though she can’t see you through her screen.

HyejU_U: sorry again

i just wanted to see if what i thought was true

Anyways. 

yeah, sorry.

You: so we’re good?

HyejU_U: we have a deal, dickface

;)

See, this is the thing you’re afraid to lose with Hyeju: the carefreeness of your little friendly touches and hugs, insults that take it just far enough, everything. If you told her how you felt (keep in mind that you might not actually like her romantically; you’re just thinking that you might), you’d lose your relationship with her—the one that formed before the two of you even knew what romance was. The one that’s kept the reunion as natural as could be without the need for awkwardness.

You’re so glad to have her back. As a student you’ve nearly cried knowing you passed a semester and worked night and day to finish a difficult assignment—none of those feelings can match the one of relief you felt when Hyeju told you everything was good on both ends. 

But for now, you’ve gotta try to put a dent into this thesis. You’re almost done, you swear. You’ve just been stalling—not intentionally. You swear on that, too. Your whole afternoon’s been swamped up in thoughts about her plus the thoughts about if you’re too perverted a man to be with her. There are a lot of questions left by you immediately responding to Hyeju choosing to sit on your lap. A lot of which are left unanswered.

Priorities. Sigh a little; there’s still work to be done, yet worrying about your best friend is on top of the list. You really should find a hobby when you’re already dragging your teammates behind. Plus, there’s the capstone to worry about that you haven’t prepared for even in the most miniscule bit. So there really shouldn’t be an explanation for why thinking about what she thinks of you is your number one priority. Why, you have plenty of other things to worry about.

You just can’t get her off your mind. These days it’s impossible to.

Abstain anyway, the best you can, from thinking about her and finally complete the thesis. It’s lengthy, well-edited, and has the perfect format to finally make you a lawyer. Attorney doesn’t sound too bad when it’s added to the front of your name.

You should celebrate, actually. The moment you think of it, Daniel suddenly messages you. He’s saying something about it being a Saturday, so you should go to the bar with him. You’re a social drinker, anyway. You could go there without going overboard. Addictions and vices form in these years of fresh adulthood, but you’ve never found yourself wound up in something.

So you do. They ask for your IDs and let you in after a short study of the cards. The guard gives you a lengthy lecture about not being alcoholics as young as you are, but welcomes you anyway.

If we’re talking about getting yourself wound up in someone, though…

“Dude,” Daniel says. He motions his glass to someone coming from the door. “Hyeju.”

You already know he’s rich, but what teacher did he pay to study him into mind-reading? “I wasn’t thinking about her,” you tell him defensively.

“No, I mean, she’s here.” He stares at said woman walking over to the bar with swaying hips. “How the fuck did she get here?”

Hyeju’s here? Swallow. Quick. What do you say? Where exactly in the bar is she right now? Why is she here? When did she get here? Why the fuck are you talking like a news reporter? 

“Hullo, boys.” She stops your train of thought and makes sure to dedicate all of them to her with her hands set on the table and a pretty crop top attached to the curves on her perfect body. You wonder where she got that dress. If she thrifted it, it isn’t obvious—her body does good work in making it look like couture.

“Hi, Hyeju.” Daniel acknowledges her with a nod. He’s a friend of yours and hers, just to remind everyone. He wouldn’t take another step with Hyeju, but you still have yourself staring daggers into his stubbled beard that lines his face and how he takes life as he would a game. There’s a reason why you’re the least tipsy among the two of you. He likes a challenge.

“Hi,” you say meekly. Hope your voice doesn’t sound twisted when your stomach suddenly is. Oh, and it’s not because of Hyeju. It’s the alcohol, pinky promise with a finger heart after. Alcohol’s never made your stomach turn this way though. 

Hyeju regards the shotglasses. “You went drinking without me?” 

“What does it look like?” Daniel asks, giving her the finger. It’s just the usual friendly argument that doesn’t cross lines or anything. The ones that you and Hyeju have. Why do you feel like punching him in the face?

Luckily, she doesn’t have a fragile heart. “Cute. Keep it that way.” She rolls her eyes then turns to you. “Oh, and you. I thought you liked having me around.”

“I’m sorry.” Ask the bartender for another shot then hand it to her. “I guess we just thought you were busy with training.”

She’s training to become an idol. It’s been her dream since she was a kid, when you played in the slides and dropped from monkey bars. She’s always told you she was going to be big someday, and you never doubted that for a second. She even had a name she planned to use if she were to be a performer: Olivia Hye. You weren’t gonna lie, it had a nice ring to it. Not too bad for a name she made up after skimming through a baby name book from the bookstore.

“I dropped out,” she says simply, downing the shot like water.

“What?” you and Daniel ask together. Both of your voices sync with the shock, too. Neither of you could get why she did that. It’s been Hyeju’s dream to become an idol for so long. She couldn’t give that up just like that, but she did.

“Yep.” There’s pride in her voice. “The whole thing was a shithole. I already have Idalso to deal with. I’m not gonna put up with that, fuck no.”

Your heart aches for her dream. Idalso University really is blocking her from achieving it. She could be out there on the stage, maybe having found a better agency, singing and dancing her heart out. Instead, she has to choose one problem at the time and hence goes with college. She has her own parents to please, and because you have yours, you get it. You truly do.

As for Hyeju getting a problem off her mind, like that terrible agency, your spirits lift. You raise a glass and clink it with hers. 

“To getting the hell out of this shithole,” you say; look at the girl you’ve lived for and loved with a smile, “and Son fucking Hyeju for doing it again.”

Your glasses meet. You’re somehow happy that it’s only two, yours and hers, that join. You can’t explain it for the life of you, but you like seeing Daniel become like a background character to it all. Just another extra in Hyeju’s show and yours. It’s cruel, especially when he’s been nothing but a good friend, but it is what it is.

“Tell you what,” Daniel says. “Let’s go to a noraebang tomorrow.”

She’s contemplative. “Isn’t the one near Idalso… like, expensive?” 

“So what?” He shrugs. “You did it, Hyeju. You got out of that company thing. I’m done with my capstone and so is he with his thesis. I say we all have some fun. On me.”

Daniel has the privilege of not worrying about things being expensive or not. It’s the norm for him. You kind of want him to play Dorothy and put himself in your shoes, then make him go through what you did. 

You know it isn’t fair and he’s just being kind. Still and all, your hatred rises.

“What now?” Daniel asks. “You guys in!”

“Of course!” Hyeju nods and claps her hands together. There’s a gummy smile on her face again. You’ve seen it on her many times, but you’ve also seen the sunset everyday—therefore, you’ll still be glad to catch a glimpse of it.

You guess since she’s in, you have to go, too. You say yes and that of course you’d love to go, and this time three glasses clink together prettily. Smiles are on each of your faces albeit yours is artificial.

"Could you act any less like a deadbeat dad?" Hyeju asks. She sits down on the stool beside you after Daniel leaves to get some air. Still feels like he's here when you feel like everyone's eyes are on you and her.

"I'm not doing anything." You say that because you aren't. You definitely aren't stirring a brew of jealousy inside you that poisons the maker, too. You're its creator yet the prophecy that was written tells that it'll turn against you, too. You’re Kronos, and it's an inevitable fate. 

"Exactly. That's what deadbeat means." This matter-of-fact statement from her is followed by Hyeju stealing your shotglass out of your hand right before you drink it. "Seriously, dude. What's up with you?"

Oh, you don't know. Maybe her possibly being your crush? It's such an immature matter, but you haven't had a crush like this. The others were just sweet-faced and from afar. Those are the girls you dream of. To have a girl like Hyeju, the one you've known since forever, with a spunky personality but an opposing pretty face, the one who's been your ride-or-die—it's complicated.

What else could you say to her when the truth is something you'd rather she not hear?

"I'm fine, Hye."

"Are you? You look…" She thinks about it for a while as she studies your hair and poorly combined outfit choices. She slicks your blunt strands back and smiles teasingly. "...sleazy."

"Fuck y—"

"Shhh." She places a finger on your lips. The side of her thigh touches your lap. You're so close that any word you utter won't pass without hitting her. "It's okay. I like it."

You purse your lips. You didn't expect that. She's taken seats on your lap that were uninitiated by you and let you lift her in the air when you hug her. All that and her fingers in your hair are the most surprising.

"You're drunk," you say, although she’s only had a few shots. 

Hyeju inches closer to you and holds your chin in place. "I'm sober as the next wolf, sweetie," she tells you. Her next words fail to show her hesitance. "And… and it just so happens that I really, really want to kiss you."

She's joking. She's playing around with your heart. You're not a virgin—you know what girls do. Hyeju doesn't strike you as the type to do that in spite of what’s going on, but you have to be careful. Your heart’s been bruised too many times already. 

Careful isn't the word for it when you take the first step and lean in for a kiss. Maybe you're drunk yourself. Dizziness enchants your mind as Hyeju's dreamy lips perfectly pout to the shape of your mouth. Her eyes are closed. It's like she's in a restful dream.

You can’t believe you’re doing it. You’re kissing her. Passionately, too—there’s real determination in the way you hungrily lean forward to devour her lips. 

The bar oohs and ahhs, then erupts into a crowd of applause. A few whistles come your way. You can feel Hyeju smile into your mouth.

-

Proclivities upon proclivities to keep her around you and only you couldn’t stop Monday from coming. You’ve only been to a noraebang once and that was with your family. It excites you to go to one again. However, you’d rather have only Hyeju to come, to be the exclusive member of the club that gets to hear her soft, pretty voice echo in the mic.

She’s really doing a number on you. Daniel’s your friend—sure, he might be out of touch with the local games and experiences, yet he’s still important to you. You can’t be mad at him over a girl who probably doesn’t even think the kiss at the bar was anything special. She hasn’t even talked about it with you and acts like it didn’t happen. Just another boy, just another day. That’s probably how you are to her.

Ouch. Way to go hurting yourself with your own made-up scenarios. As expected from you. 

The three of you decide to cut classes. It’s not like you’re in high school anymore. Professors just don’t give a fuck, unless it’s miss Wong. She’s pretty and quiet at first. Then you have to wait to see her get angry—that’s when all hell breaks loose.

No hell on the loose today. Just three little demons from hell called Hyeju, Daniel and yourself down on the loose and down the road to the noraebang. Hyeju’s in a loose black jacket and a plain white tee. You somehow notice that more than Daniel who’s sporting a graphic shirt with swear words from every language printed on it. You don’t have much to say about your attire when it’s nothing special, not even compared to Hyeju, who’s wearing simple clothes like you.

“If a teacher sees us out here—” says Daniel nervously. He’s never rebelled before. The most he’s done is missing a class. 

“No one will,” Hyeju promises him, opening the door of the place for the two of you though in your opinion it should be the other way around: you opening the door for her. What better way to show Hyeju that you could be a gentleman? Too late now. Plus, she doesn’t care much for that. That’s what keeps your excitement on a low burn. It takes more than opening a door and waiting around to impress Hyeju. 

You sign your names at the front. Daniel picks a nice, wide room with a glass table perfect for chips and bottles. The bright screen already shows snippets of K-pop music videos, involving sweet-faced Korean girls waving at the camera and running along a beach. As boyish Hyeju is compared to other girls, you could definitely see her doing that for her passion of becoming an idol. 

“What should we sing?” asks Hyeju, sitting down on the black plush seats comfortably. Her gummy smile is precious.

“Anything you want.” He slings an arm around her. His looped arm tugs her into a warm embrace. “Anything for the soon-to-be lawyer slash K-pop idol.”

Stiffen. Turn away and suddenly take good interest in the walls with a carved 3D effect. Much more interesting than whatever Daniel’s trying to pull on your best friend. Right, Hyeju’s your best friend. Nothing more. That kiss was a drunken mistake. You shouldn’t be getting angry. Besides, this noraebang was rented for you to have fun, not glower at Daniel doing nothing but be a good friend.

Hyeju laughs and leans into him gladly. “Stop, you’re gonna make me throw up!”

You feel out of place all of a sudden. Has she always been that affectionate with him? You thought that those touches and hugs were reserved for you only. Apparently not.

“Sing a song, Hye.” Your eyes don’t meet her gaze.

“They wanted me to debut with this song,” she says. The mic is shaky in her hand. “I—” She blushes. “I want to sing it for you.”

Sweetness infiltrates the air. It’s not of a scent or touch, but of hearing. It's Hyeju’s voice. It's smooth and soft as it passes through the empty atmosphere. No instrumental accompanies her voice, and you’re glad it’s that way. It allows you to marvel at Hyeju’s tone, quiet in spite of its sexiness.

And it takes that and several songs later, sung daringly by all of your trio, and jokes passed among friends that make you think about it. Really think about it. While Daniel and she sing their hearts out to the point of their voices cracking and laughs transforming into guffaws, you sit there and submerge yourself in thought.

You’ve seen Hyeju smile. It's pretty and sweet; her triangle-shaped mouth curls up into a half moon and it's everything you've ever wished for in life. No, fuck food. Fuck oxygen. All you need is her smile. It's cheesy as hell when you page through those types of quotes in those teenage romance books you probably shouldn't even be holding, but you swear that if Hyeju smiles for the rest of her life, it's enough for you to live. She just looks so pretty. Her resting bitch face, stone cold as the title of the expression suggests, is hot (yes, you're using that word), but when she chooses to smile—oh, you're as good as dead.

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

You’ve heard her sing in the noraebang room with her soft voice filling the vicinity. She doesn't sing much although she could. The day would come when she’d say "you know, I almost became an idol. I trained then dipped halfway,” and the pitched raspiness of her voice still would send you to heaven. It's a natural and beautiful thing, a trait she couldn't learn from the best vocal coach.

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

You’ve felt her hair when she leaned into your lap after laughing too much. "Stop, or I swear to god I will fuck your shit up," she told you, slapping your thigh after your terrible dad joke. You ran your fingers through her hair to calm her, but if anything it's an excuse to just touch her. You want to touch Hyeju, and not even in a sexual way. You just want your bodies closed up on each other with no awkwardness barriering the freedom to hold and be held.

And it’s not the kiss, but all these that make you stop your denial, and discover that you—

“—think I like Hye,” you whisper to Daniel when said girl leaves to get some beer. The flashing disco lights hanging from the ceiling can’t camouflage the red on your face. 

Daniel laughs and puts down the mic. The bump on the crafted table sends a tinged pitch of feedback to your ears. “Everyone likes her. So?”

He’s right. Everyone likes Hyeju. Yeah, they like her through every name she’s taken up. She was the star of the school back in middle school when she went as Hyejoo, then the ice princess of high school as Olivia Hye, and finally… as herself now that she’s grown up with you, Son Hyeju. She’s become so many versions of herself and yet people still like the real her. You still know the real her.

“No,” is what you say, as you twiddle your fingers. You don’t know how to say this without causing an uproar. “I like Hyeju.”

He considers this for a moment, weighing in your words. “Like as in… like like?”

A nervous swallow. Is Daniel the right person to tell this ? “Like like,” you reply nevertheless.

Daniel locks his chin between his rough fingers and strokes it thoughtfully. His face is clouded with a feeling you can’t read. “Well, a lot of people do, too. And they wouldn’t blame you for it. She’s—” He looks down at his shoes then back at the noraebang screen. “She’s a pretty girl.”

The understatement of the century. Hyeju’s face was carved with such beauty—curved, pyramid lips; slanted eyes; a cold look that you, unlike people when asked about their first impression of her, weren’t scared of—and she’s just so… easy to love. 

Yes, Son Hyeju is easy to love. Everyone loves her, but she can only ever reciprocate it in a different way to one man. Woman, perhaps? Anything goes, but you'd rather she gives it to you.

You're a selfish person, you admit that. More so when it comes to her. 

"Let's get this party started!" she says. You don't intend to flinch yet you end up doing it anyway when she sits down next to you and hands you canned alcohol. 

"There's only three of us, Hye," Daniel points out. The rounded metal springs up from the can and he gulps down a hefty amount of the spiked liquid.

"Three's a crowd. Especially when it's with you guys."

"So you're saying we're too much?" Match her sass with hidden bits of your own. You're only trying to make it seem like your heart doesn't beg to be held close to hers. 

"Too much is just enough for me." 

Hyeju drops both of her arms around you and your other friend and ruffles your hair. It's sweet. It should be. It’s exactly that which makes you fail to understand why your heart feels squeezed. Why is she also hugging Daniel in the same manner she hugs you?

The kiss at the bar means nothing. The kiss at the bar means nothing. You have to stop thinking that it means there's a ring on your finger already. 

You rise from the sofa to purchase chips because you’re starving, but not for healthy food. You wouldn’t dream of eating a salad when there’s junk food in your general vicinity, and it just so happens that there’s a vending machine you’ve got your eye on at the counter. Soon, a rainbow of plastic bags fills your arms. What they contain would work well to repay your debt with Hyeju. Daniel can eat these without worrying about money. He’s been a good friend. He deserves chips after the evil you’ve thought about him.

"I bought chips—"

Daniel is pushing Hyeju to the end of the sofa and has his lips locked on hers. His hands are in her hair. Her eyes are shut. You can hear the sloppy sounds of kissing bouncing off the noraebang walls. The instrumental from the radio is the cherry on top of everything.

Does this kiss guarantee a ring? 

"Wow," you say. Nod then laugh, as if doing it would make your situation better. “Wow.”

Hyeju turns her head and scrambles for broken dignity. It's too late. You've already seen it. Daniel doesn't even bother running after you when she bursts out of the room to chase you. You're immovable—each step is a promise to take you far away. You trust that promise to skewer you away from Son Hyeju, Son fucking Hyeju who led you on and played with your heart.

"Hey.” Her steps catch up with yours. Walk faster, but she only draws closer. You can’t escape from her now. “Hey!”

"What?" Turn to her, heavy breathing lining your shoulders. You stare into her small face and silently dare her to make an excuse.

To your surprise and her audacity, she does. "It's not what it looks like!" she says, swallowing. How could she be the one near tears when she's the one who kissed him? "Let me explain—"

"I know what I saw."

"Well, you don't see the bigger picture. He sm—"

"—smart? Funny? Rich?" Laugh and shake your head. Your laughs sound more and more genuine. You've gone a little sick in the head. "Yeah, I know. But hey, we're not supposed to be anything, right? Why am I mad? It's not like our kiss meant anything."

"Please, oppa. Listen to me."

"No, go sing together,” you say, then thrust the junk food you bought in her arms. “I’m sure you’re better off with him.”

Mean it. Turn away. Don't bother to look at her when you know she'll go crawling back to Daniel. He's totally her type. He's everything, you're nothing. He's smart, you're not. He loves her more, and you do—just not enough. Now you understand why they were so touchy and close in the room.

Anger is irrational when it was just a kiss. The two of you weren't official, either. If you weren't before, you sure as hell aren't now. It's just not meant to be. 

She likes Daniel, not you. And even though you want to be, you aren't supposed to be angry at Hyeju. She was swept into a high school love triangle that happened a little later in her life, and ultimately chose the better guy. No need to drop names. The kiss was enough for you to know which man she chose.

Besides, you don't love Son Hyeju anyway. Isn't that what you've always told yourself? That's right. You don't love her.

Denial is a river flowing down your cheek.

-

The dorm becomes a cemetery of the living dead. You and Hyeju have not spoken to each other for three months. She stops waking you up for class, and you do the same. The place is notably cleaner after the two of you rely only on yourself to tidy up. Lost are the sarcasm, friendly touches, teasing arguments. It’s like the two of you never knew each other.

It’s through this that you discover that you have to be careful what you wish for. You always thought about Daniel putting himself in your place, and it happened. Ever since the kiss, Hyeju’s been chattier with him, and he pulls her close the way you used to, and she smiles at him like she used to at you, except that it’s wider now. They’re together. Officially together; you’ve seen their Instagram posts. 

Moreover, she’s happier than ever, flourishing without you.

And you? You’re still stuck in that noraebang, replaying that fateful kiss over and over in your head. Each time you close your eyes you see Hyeju and Daniel in a passionate liplock. It’s the kiss that ruined what you had with Hyeju and has made your quality of life deteriorate. You didn’t know that Hyeju makes up almost every part of your day. Mornings are empty without your stroll with her. Post-exam nights aren’t as fun when she’s not there to bring drinks. Afternoons are lonely when she’s always out with Daniel.

You hate the fucker. He knew you liked Hyeju. You’ve told him about it right before the thing he did with her even happened, so it’s impossible that he’d forget. Besides, like he said, the two of you are always together. He surely would have picked up the signs. Unfortunately, he whisked her away just like that.

You dislike to feel like the scheming guy in coming-of-age films who doesn’t get the girl, but it’s the perfect portrayal of your emotions.

Wake up for class. She does, too. You have the decency to not gawk at how good she looks even in a casual tank top and plaid shorts, but she doesn’t even try to hide that she’s staring at you. Just not for the same reason, you assume. You’re just her boy best friend. With the way things are, you aren’t even a friend to her anymore.

You smear cheese onto a soft slice of bread. Still, her eyes are on you. From the corner of what takes up your vision, you could tell that she’s trying to figure out how to make this less awkward. You’d think that an eternity’s worth of effectively giving each other the cold shoulder would make her learn how to do it. She’s a smart girl anyway. She should have figured that out.

“You know… you can’t just keep ignoring me.”

Freeze—it’s the first time she’s spoken to you in a while. And you weren’t prepared for that. It’s like someone threw a punch in your stomach, but it’s also a breath of fresh air. How those two feelings could converge into each other you don’t know. 

“So stop it, will you?” she continues. She swings her legs out of the duvet and places her hands snug on the edge of her bed. “Stop treating me like I’m a…”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m your fucking ex,” Hyeju snarls. The duvet crumples in her fist.

Scoff. Fold the bread slice tight onto the other squared end. Talk about a good morning. “Ex? We were never a thing, Hye… ju.” 

Right, it isn’t like that anymore. You can’t call her Hye like the old times.

The hurt that registers on her face, still pretty in the midst of pain, comes by so fast it would take a magnifying glass to see it clearly. Now she’s the one scoffing. She recovers quickly from the stifled nickname so well that you never would have guessed you disarmed her. “That’s the thing. You’re right—we weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. So why are you acting like I’m a ghost?”

“I wonder why,” you say. “Couldn’t be because you kissed me then decided to kiss another guy while I was away. Nope, totally out of the question.”

What happened? It seems like just yesterday the two of you were throwing insults and playfully quarreling with each other like it’s natural. This is a real disagreement here. This can’t be resolved with a smile or hug. You and Hyeju aren’t like that anymore. It’s a thing of the past.

Just like your friendship.

“If you’d just let me explain—”

“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Go with Daniel to class. Have a good life with him. Just call me if you get lost.”

Don’t even try to take a bite out of your cheese sandwich. You leave it on the table. Later, it’ll become stale and cold, similar to your friendship with Hyeju, or whatever kind of fucked up relationship you have.

You storm out of the dorm. You’re glad to get out—you’re already worried about the test later and the night class with miss Wong. Don’t need a situationship to take up your mind either. 

The day passes like a car on a rocky, jagged road. It’s difficult to muster a smile to the freshmen the moment you come in to help miss Jeong teach, or work on your test when that argument with her fills your mind rather than equations you should have memorized. The whole day is torture, and you don’t dare wish it on anyone. Not even that asshole Daniel

“What’s up with you today?” people ask you. “You sure you’re alright?” “Where’s Hyeju?”

You don’t answer.

When the night comes, it’s relief for your sore mind and body. That test beat you up and the sun was too cruel to your skin. Even if night classes could last till the brink of dawn, you don’t mind. Take comfort in the fact that it’s only a discussion and nothing more. 

Barely listen though. Two a.m. creeps by and you haven’t taken in a thing. Usually miss Wong would have you focused, keeping in mind that she’s strict and merciless, but you’re too tired today. Your bones ache though you didn’t do much walking. They’re only symptoms of heartbreak.

You don’t want to see a doctor. In fact, you want to get worse.

Miss Wong looks up at the clock. “Is it alright if I extend for just five minutes?” she asks. Her pencil skirt struggles to contain her strides on the platform.

A chorus of mixed responses echo in the classroom. Others, the top students in particular who participate in every club you could name, say it’s fine. Some already have excuses to make: they need to work on homework; they have other classes to go to; every excuse existing. You don’t know which side you’re on—you don’t want to come home to another angry night with Hyeju, and at the same time, you can’t be assed to stay.

Then—

Ringing. It’s all you hear. Your classmates’ voices drown out in it. It’s supposed to be soft, but it isn’t anymore when everyone shuts their mouth in alarm. Look here, look there. You don’t know where it’s coming from. 

Your hint is the light in your pocket. Fish it out. It’s coming from your phone.

“I thought I told you guys to put your cellphones on mute during class,” Wong says, sighing. Her glare shoots you a warning.

Okay, you’d say sorry to her and put your phone away. Drop the call. Anything. But the first thing you do is wonder:

Why the fuck is Son Hyeju calling you?

Aside from all the tension between you, your natural instinct is to answer. Your next is to ask her, “Hye?”

“Oppa…” comes her voice from your speaker.

Before you could wonder why she’s calling, you notice that Hyeju’s voice is… lonely. Yes, lonely. That’s the word you’d use right away if you’re asked to describe it. No, it can’t be just that. It’s mixed with something else. It’s higher, a little more groggy.

Forget that you were fighting. Forget that she kissed Daniel and broke your heart. She wouldn’t call if it isn’t something even her pride can’t protect. “Hyeju? What’s wrong?” 

“I’m lost.” 

-

Those are the two words she utters before breaking into sobs. You’ve never heard or seen Hyeju cry. She likes to treat problems with anger rather than sadness, slicing away at every conflict with groans and cursing professors for low grades. If she’s crying, it must mean something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.

You’re keenly aware that all eyes and ears are monitoring your moves, but you don’t care. You rise from your seat and start gathering your laptop into your bag. You forget about your notes. Fuck them. Hyeju comes first. 

“Where did you go, Hye?” Walk out of the class. If miss Wong has a problem with that, she can tell you about it tomorrow. 

Sniffles on her end. Her quiet, low cries break your heart. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I need you, oppa. I have… I have nobody else. Please come and get me.”

“Hyeju—”

“Please,” she whispers. Her voice lowers to a whine. “I’m alone. I’m so alone.”

Tears itch at the bottoms of your eyes. You have to come and get her. Need to forget the fight and silent treatment that ensued. All that means nothing if Hyeju’s in need of your help.

Where the fuck are your keys? Remove them from the loop of your jeans and click the button. In the driveway, your car’s headlights shine. Yep, there it is. You once regretted buying a secondhand car like that. Now that it can get you to Hyeju, you vow to take care of it for life. You’d spend thousands to repair it if it breaks down.

But right now, it’s Hyeju who’s breaking down. She’s all alone somewhere and she needs you. In a way, you need her, too. She’s the one who’s braver to admit it.

You’ve never driven faster in your entire life. All the while you stay on the line with Hyeju. Your grip on the wheel tightens whenever she lets out a hopeless little sob. She’s crying so hard that you want to roll into a ball in the corner and cry, too. You can’t do that. You have to be the stronger one, the one who comes to her like she’s done for you and tells her that everything’s going to be alright.

You make no promises. 

Eventually you coax a location out of her and break several speed limits. Ignore the cops that yell at you. They can all go and fuck off. Hyeju needs you. You’re her best friend. It’s what friends do.

“Motherfucker,” you curse, upon seeing that the location she led you to was a club. It’s hidden in the corner of a creepy alley. “Hyeju, are you drunk?”

“Nooooo…” she drawls, giggling through her tears. “Your voice is so nice, oppa. It really makes me feel better. Did’ya know that?”

No time to be flattered. You burst into the club and find her in the midst of flashing lights and crowds of bodies. Your ears ring because of the music. Whose idea was it to hire this DJ? He thinks he’s doing such a good job, too. 

Hyeju’s in the center of it all. Her black coat is too big for her, but so is the crowd. When it moves, it drags her along by the toes. She’s… smiling? Wasn’t she crying on the phone just minutes earlier? Maybe she drank more. This can’t be good.

“Hyeju!” Start walking faster. 

She sticks her tongue out at you and starts to sprint upon seeing you get close.

You have no time for games. This isn’t even in the least bit funny. What if someone spiked her drink? What if that was the reason she’s acting funny? Worse: what if someone’s planning to take advantage of her? All these concerns bump into each other in your head as you run after her. 

A couple of “excuse me”s and “sorry!”s after you quickly squeeze in between dancing people. Drinks spilled on the floor. Anger from two dolled up ladies. (A look to your right and… yep, not only from them.) Disapproval from the DJ who even calls you out. Boos from the crowd. You don’t care about them. You only care about getting Hyeju to safety. She can’t be here in her vulnerable state.

Before she could dash out from your line of vision, you grab her wrist. Seal your grip around it tightly so she can’t escape. “Son Hyeju,” you say, glaring at her. Ever since she stopped crying, she started to play around. This isn’t a game but to her it is. A fun game, to be more precise. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Oooh, you caught…” She burps. Playful giggles spill from her mouth. “... me!” Hyeju gives you a drunken smile and claps for you regardless of her right hand being held into position. 

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you here? See? I can ask stupid q-questions, too!”

You whisk her away from the ongoing party and into the cold night air. You’re about to throw your jacket on her when you see that she’s wearing one, too. 

People are starting to stare. Pray that no one intervenes, even if they have good intentions. After all, you’re a man with a woman under the influence. They have every right to be concerned, but you hope that just for now they know you wouldn’t dare hurt Hyeju.

The wind blows a breeze that almost knocks you to the floor. You draw Hyeju to yourself to warm her. You can’t risk her catching a cold. 

”Let me go, oppa!” Hyeju’s mood goes from sad to drunkenly cheerful to pained. She forces her wrist out from your fist harshly. Your arms no longer wrap her. “You don’t like me anymore, right? And I have a boyfriend!”

Capture her hand again. She can’t escape and run away a second time. You’ve done that too much to know that it’ll send her down into a dizzying spiral. You’re cowards, the both of you—that’s why you flee whenever a problem arises. You don’t know how to deal with it. 

That changes now. Get in your vehicle. Pull her in, too. “For your information,” you say, locking her seatbelt in place, “you called me. You asked me to pick you up.”

The car roars to life and speeds down the road. The night barely provides light for you to move along. It’s beautiful nevertheless. Stars peek out from the depths of black. The moon is dim yet reassuring. What fate does it have in store for you? Would you accept it if you knew? How could they all look so serene while you have your drunk crush next to you starting an argument?

“And you’d loooove not to do it, wouldn’t you?” Hyeju’s words suggest that she’s no longer that drunk but the way her words come out like jumbled words in a newspaper crossword tell you otherwise. She leans against the door and crosses her arms. “It was a mistake to call you. You, you fucking hate me.”

Does she really believe that? You may hate Daniel, but you never once hated Hyeju. You’ve only had wistful feelings for her even after she kissed him. You still checked up on her socials and watched her as she ate lunch with him. You remained loyal to her, like a dog following its owner through scoldings.

Yeah, you really are just her dog.

“I don’t hate you, Hye,” you say with conviction. You’re determined to make her believe that. It’s difficult when you’ve never been the type to be good with words. 

“Yes, you do! You wouldn’t even let me explain why I kissed Daniel!”

“For fuck’s sake, I was hurt! I didn’t know what to do!”

“Then hear me out for once!”

“Alright.” Your hands slap the wheel, unintentionally bumping the horn and causing Hyeju to cringe. “Go on. Tell me what happened.”

“He was the one who kissed me, the fucking idiot! He kissed me out of the blue and wouldn’t stop!”

Wait.

What? 

Daniel, your friend and Hyeju’s, initiated the kiss? Hyeju didn’t want it to happen?

If only you knew, you would have beaten up Daniel a long time ago. 

You can’t even speak. You had it all wrong. You can’t believe there was an explanation for everything and you refused to hear it. 

Hyeju begins to sob again. Her words circle in the air like an incantation. It’s equally because of the alcohol and her emotions. “I was… talking to him about my training, but then he kissed me.” She wipes her face and laughs humorlessly. “He started making out with me and, a-and I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like I was frozen.”

“You… you didn’t kiss him?” Your tone is broken and incredulous. “He made you do it?”

She looks almost offended. “Why? Why would I ever kiss that bastard?”

“But you’re dating him.”

“I am,” says Hyeju, hands in her hair, “Hah, okay. I'm dating him, yeah, but that’s just because I thought you didn’t like me. I only want one person in the world, and it isn’t Daniel Smith.”

“Hyeju—”

“It’s you, you clueless little shit!” She punches your shoulder and muffles her face into your car pillow. Her next scream is elongated, filled with frustration. When she lifts her face from the pillow, her eyeliner and blush are smeared and wet with teardrops. “It’s you, and I only want you!”

In vino veritas.

The confession is as out of the blue as Daniel’s kiss was. You’re in a state of shock and disbelief—too much information is coming into your brain. You want to punch Daniel in the face for shocking her with an unwanted move. You want to hug Hyeju. You want to tell her that you’re sorry for not hearing her side of the story. 

Most importantly, you want to tell her that you want her, too.

It’s too late now. She’s seen you disregard her voice and choose to have a one-track mind. There’s no way she wants you anymore.

“Why the fuck would you ever want me, Hyeju?” 

“Because!” She lets out a shivering little sigh. “You don’t treat me like… hlk, like I’m a trophy to show off. You’re my friend. You know how to be mean but you take care of me even if I’m too moody sometimes. Even if I don’t want to come along with you outside because I’m scared I’ll make myself look stupid in front of you. Even if… even if I love too hard but don’t show that I love you most and that sometimes you take care of me more than my dad does and I know it’s wrong to see you that way when I’m with him now but I really want you to take care of me but still kiss me too if I need it and be okay with me calling you names like ‘daddy’ and still being your best friend besides being my boyfriend… but I know it can’t happen anymore and I ruined everything—”

“Hyeju.”

More tears flow down her face. “—and I know you won’t ever love me the same again but I’ll regret forever, long after we graduate, that I never showed that I loved you, that I was a coward—”

“Hyeju,” you say, gently. Pull over at the university parking lot. You have your finger on her mouth, sealing them to stop her droning. She pauses. She doesn’t do it without breaking down. “Please. Don’t tell me you don’t know it. It’s been happening under your nose every single day.”

“What?” she murmurs, eyes glassy as they connect with yours.

“I like you, too.”

Silence. Several beats go by. They’re too lengthy to be fake. The next nuance confirms that:

Talk about relief. Talk about passion. As if she’s forgetting that a sudden kiss was what opened Pandora’s box, Hyeju grabs your face and does exactly that. Again, it has too many things to it that blocks it from being faux. The unique shape of her lips mold onto yours, as if your lips were made to kiss each other all the time. It’s back to the café again, wherein she does something and you subconsciously follow along. Your hands are on her phenomenal waist. And soon you’re unbuckling her seatbelt so she could sit safely on your lap, where she’s supposed to be. Where she belongs.

She drops her touch to your shoulders. She massages them, and you groan delightfully. Now it’s your turn to hold her face and lean in closer. Hyeju’s mouth tastes of sweetness and alcohol. You don’t know how those two tastes could mix together. Hyeju makes it work.

“Oppa, daddy,” she whimpers. She pulls away. The distance is still close to nothing. “Daddy, I love you.”

It’s a sudden nickname, still detached from when she uses it with you jokingly, yet there’s no hesitance here. You know your truth. “I love you, too, Hyeju.”

“Will you take me to bed?” She starts grinding down on your shaft needily. “Please say you will, daddy. Please say you’ll make me happy.”

“You’re drunk. I… I don’t know if I should.”

“‘m not. Maybe. But I’ve wanted it to happen for a long time,” Hyeju says. “I won’t mind, I promise.”

She couldn’t get any more sober with that. So you do what any man would do if they were called daddy by Son Hyeju: lift her out of your car, not caring to check twice if it’s locked, and bring her to bed. Take her coat off—she won’t need it if you’ll make her warm from the inside and out.

Her arms round your neck and her face is buried in your chest. Her words come out in a desperate, needy tone that you haven’t heard from her since the day you met. Who exactly were you to make her this small?

Her daddy, of course.

See, as tough as Hyeju makes herself out to be, she’s still needy. She still has her own problems that haven’t let go of her now that she’s older, like the daddy thing. You only fully understand it now when you lay her on the bed and continue kissing her. Hard. Her moans call out for you. They aren’t merely things to whine if it feels good. It’s not even a matter of want anymore; her shivers and cries indicate of her carnal need for you to do what you will with her.

“Don’t be scared,” she tells you, closing her eyes as you kiss her perfect jawline. “You wanted me for so long, right? Well, I did, too. Do what you want to me. Fuck me, daddy.”

“You talk extremely dirty for someone who’s drunk,” you chuckle. 

“Not so drunk anymore. You make me sober.”

“Sweet talker. You’re all bark and no bite.”

Hyeju has no retort to make. Your lips on her gorgeous nipple render her speechless. The cute pink nub is hard, and grows harder at your loving suckles. Her breasts are the perfect size for squeezing. Relish in that fact by squeezing her left breast while dedicating more of your attention to the other, making her become sensitive with each action. 

You’d say you have bite, for you do so lightly on her breast. She gasps. “Daddy!” she cries out.

“Fuck, don’t say it like that.” Your cock throbs already. It’s the same feeling you get all those times before, the times you’d get into an argument with Hyeju and she’d call you that.

“What? It’s not my fault you can’t handle me,” she says wittily.

“Don’t try me.”

“What?” She cocks a brow. “Hit too close to home?”

You have to shut her bratty self up. Tug her pants off, sliding them off her silky legs. Her pink panties are a hint to the gentle color of her pussy. Find out about them anyway—push the underwear aside and shove three fingers in her.

“Oh shit.” Hyeju’s squeeze on your digits is instant, like an impulsive reaction. 

Think about if Daniel has done this to her before and pick up the pace. You’re fingering her like the walls of her soaked pussy would banish him and let you have her all to yourself. “Son Hyeju,” you growl, “shut the fuck up.”

“W-won’t—ah!” 

If you don’t make her quiet, you’ll at least reduce her words to pathetic moans. You’d say you’re successful. Your rapid thrusts send Hyeju’s screams paralleling the night wind with their strength. 

You’re surprised again and again at how loud she could get. She’s always so quiet except for the occasional sarcastic remark. She can make no more of those if faced with the relentless fingering you do unto her pussy. They draw out strings of dampness when they withdraw, and fill her right to the knuckles when you go back in. Her hips squirm and you have to place a hand on her thigh to continue.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” she screams. Her mouth is open while she sits up to look at what you’re doing to her vulnerable cunt. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop!”

She looks beautiful. Her shirt is lifted above her breasts, making them bounce madly due to the timing and force of your thrusts. Her eyes could never be more watchful. She can’t believe she actually has you between her legs and fingering her to orgasm.

“Got any comeback for me, Hye?” you ask smugly. 

Hyeju nods. Her lips are parted again. Although you haven’t had sex with her except for now, you know what that dropped jaw means: she’s close.

Her walls are impossible to part completely. She’s too damn tight that you bet she’d still be so with one finger. The grip of her slippery, wet cunt is like no other. You reach deep into it and stroke out till you find the place. That’s how Hyeju starts to shiver. She can’t manage it.

“Oh, yeah? What do you have to say now, sweet?” Wrap your lips around her nipple. It’s another one of your unfair advantages over her.

“I-I-I—I can’t!” 

The recoil of Hyeju’s tits is amazing. Harshly squeeze the boob you’ve relatively neglected to make sure she can’t get a word out of those pretty lips. Take a further step and smack it, too. She moans in satisfaction. Your harsh squeezes imprint a replica of your hand on her pale skin. 

Of course, you don’t forget to keep your fingers going. You change techniques now and then, switching from gentle circling to rapid fire shoving. Whether it’s one or the other, Hyeju’s fuckhole swallows you up. She doesn’t mind which or what; she needs your harshness the most. It’s what counts as a whole.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum! Please make me cum on your fingers, make your babygirl cum… oh—oh, fuck!”

Combined with your thumb nudging her small clit and your digits absolutely destroying her tightness, Hyeju does the unthinkable: she squirts on your hand and on your bed. Liquid gushes on your shirt; it’s so consistent and clear that a new determination is founded within you. It’s to make your unbearably hot best friend cum like she never has.

For the record, it’s the first time you’ve made a girl squirt. You didn’t expect that it would be this satisfying. Seeing Hyeju’s blissful face and the shake of her beautiful legs make your efforts worth it. Watching yourself do it to your best friend and make her feisty, boyish self let out screams and pleas brings increased triumph.

“No, oh god, it’s too much!” Hyeju says this but her legs part more. Her head is tossed back and her moans don’t stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t—daddy!”

“Messy little brat.” Rub away at her clit. Feel the spurt of her cum hit your finger. “That’s it, cum for daddy. Keep those pretty thighs open.”

Hyeju mewls at the mixture of degradation and moans. If Daniel had said that to her, she probably would have thrown up in a bucket. When it’s you, on the other hand, everything changes. She wants you to call her every harsh name out there and accompany it with sides of praise. She’ll only feel this good when she’s with you.

Hyeju is anything but obedient. Things change here in the dorm, where her pussy is spread and prone to your touch. Her midriff, soft yet slender, rises over and over. The hose of her wet orgasms still hasn’t stopped.

“Goddammit, you’re squirting so much. Am I that good, hm, Hyeju? Is daddy that good to his pretty little girl?” 

“Mmm, mmm, don't— no more, daddy, no more!” Hyeju’s core is already spent, and you haven’t even put your cock in her yet. 

Stop. Not before you leave a kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves that you abused. It’s a mark now, something invisible that subtly says to everyone that you got to fuck her. You got to fuck Son Hyeju. You made her cum like never before.

Spit on Hyeju’s center then spread it to her lips and nub. She moans. “You’re so wet, Hye.”

“Whatever.” She’s blushing. “I’ve had better.”

You have to say you’re a little provoked. You know it’s false seeing the smug look on her face and after making her squirt, but who exactly has done her better? Daniel? Definitely not him. The possibility still does well to spur you to jealousy.

“Oh,” you say, smiling tightly, “so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Hyeju gasps happily when she’s pushed to the wall and on her knees. It’s reminiscent of how Daniel did exactly that: pinning her to the wall before kissing her. Your anger brews into a fire just thinking about him. 

“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Unbuckle your belt. Your jeans join it on the floor as well as your briefs. “I’m gonna clean that dirty mouth of yours.”

“And how are you gonna do that, daddy?” Hyeju pretends not to know what’s coming.

It’s your belief that actions speak louder than words. That’s why when you place your cock in between Hyeju’s lips, it resonates inside her more than your promise to purify her mouth. Logic fails here when dirty sins can’t remove Hyeju’s dirty words. One wrong and another doesn’t make a right. Oh, who cares? This isn’t a class. This isn’t your thesis. You focus only on feeling the softness of her triangular mouth, the wetness of the back of her throat.

Holding your cock by the base, you lead its tip into rubbing every corner of Hyeju’s mouth. Her cheeks make an outline of your girth as you press your head against them. Her jaw becomes slack after you press your dick down to her tongue. You’re technically doing all the work here because you’re fucking her face, but you’d argue that Hyeju contributes just as much with her tearful eyes that are more puppy than wolf.

The shape of her wet orifice leaves ample space for you to rub against everything. Your tip draws a triangle on her lips right before slipping inside. There you keep your word and clean her dirty mouth. Push those naughty words down her throat with immediate thrusts. That way, she can only moan, nothing else. No sass can be heard from her now.

“You’re such a bad girl, Hyeju,” you say. Curl your hand ‘round her messy hair and direct it downwards. She groans, her mouth now upright for yout fuck easier into. “You shouldn’t like having your mouth used like this. You shouldn’t be on your knees for your best friend when your boyfriend’s waiting for you at home.”

Hyeju knows you’re right. She shouldn’t. She isn’t supposed to enjoy having her throat rammed and spread. She shouldn’t be cheating on the man she claims to love. It’s a mistake of hers to be here anyway, underneath another man. 

Her second mistake is to like everything the way it is..

Her third is to tongue your shaft like she would a sweet treat. She wants to taste all of you, from your thick tip to the base. She’s not had much to work on with Daniel, but she knew it would be a good time when you sprung out your cock. She makes this worth it—she seals her lips at your base, her nose pressed firmly at the bottom of your tummy, then produces such a harsh suction that the grip you have in her black locks of messy hair tightens. A curse is what you let out besides precum. 

“Fuck,” you say. Pull her head closer. Aggressive thrusts fire away. “Didn’t know your pouty little lips could suck dick so well. I bet it’s bulging your throat. Is daddy right about that?”

She tries to nod. Her gags stop her intended action; your thrusts have sped up and are now destroying her tight throat. No space is left for her to breathe when her mouth is stuffed with your length. Even her nostrils can’t take in much air if her nose is pressed that tightly to your stomach.

Place a hand on the wall in order for there to be no aches for her head when you thrust wildly. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe you’re a good girl, especially with that face. Go on, touch yourself. I know you want to.”

Permission is granted by her daddy. Hyeju gives a cry in response then leads her hand between her legs. Letting you fuck her face has made her wet beyond imagination. She doesn’t need to press directly on her pussy when there’s slick all over her thighs. She gathers them all up and places them back in her pussy. She moans as she swirls her digits inside her. Here’s how it works: she has one hand masturbating, and the other on your thigh to caress it and at the same time keep her balance.

Take note of that. “You’re a smart girl, Hyeju. Smart girls shouldn’t be letting their faces get fucked. We can’t have that happen, right?”

You say that yet your actions tell a different story. Your violent pumps into Hyeju’s mouth to use it to the limits are endless. Hyeju’s moaning. She enjoys it more than she should. Of course, you jam those moans, as pretty as they are, down her throat. 

Slap your cock on her lips.

“You know what I mean.”

Slip the whole of your length out then in again. Make her brush those luscious lips against every inch.

“We really, really can’t have that happen.”

Caress her cheek. Her eyes are awaiting and obedient. Look down into them and almost feel bad for ruining her, your best friend.

“Daniel might walk in anytime. He’ll be looking for you.”

Your movements are cruel as time goes by. You shouldn’t be treating your best friend like this. You shouldn’t even be having sex with her. All of these ought to stop you in your tracks—you don’t.

“And what will he say when he sees his precious girlfriend on her knees for his best friend?”

Hyeju begins to whine. She doesn’t want him to walk in; she’s enjoying this too much. What she doesn’t want to happen even more is for you not to blow your load inside her warm throat. People can’t have what they want all the time, but she swears she won’t want anything else if you just give her what she wants. That’s for you to absolutely use her. Be cruel to her and it wouldn’t sting.

“He’ll start to think how better you are with me. You’re a bad girl, Hyeju. You know that and you still want me.”

You’re right in every way. She is better with you. You just fuck her better, treat her better, kiss her better. She can’t kiss better the wound she’ll leave in Daniel if he just so happens to walk in. Maybe she could, but she’d put salt on it when he discovers how good you make her feel. It isn’t fair to anybody. To you, the one she accidentally hurt; to Daniel, who was the one (no, make that the two with how he was her last resort and how she gave him false hope); to her, who can’t go without you.

“Let go.”

Nine.

It takes exactly nine strokes in between her folds for her to cum. Drool sheens your girth. Some even drip from her mouth. It’s like she’s in heat; she’s whining as she tries to cum and suck you off at the same time. Hyeju ends up sucking your shaft with desperation, legs quivering and threatening to give away.

“Cum with me, Hyeju,” you command her. Pull out, rather regretfully, but take comfort with how pretty she’d look covered in your cum. Your hand wraps around you and jerks you off. Although it can’t match Hyeju’s mouth or her ass, it’ll do well in shooting your load on her.

Your best friend keeps calling your name squeezed between “daddy”s as she fingers herself to orgasm. She collapses pathetically on the floor, in a pool of sweat and cum. Her shirt and the floor of your shared dorm room are stained. No need to wonder where those white stains come from; the only suspects are you and Hyeju. It’s a partnered crime for her squirt comes out at such a velocity that it rivals your cumshots.

“Take my load, Hyeju, fuck!”

If there’s anything Hyeju isn’t, it’s submissive. It somehow changes when she nods and opens her mouth. You’re introduced to a whole new side of her. Her post-orgasm face is one you hope to admire everyday. Look at the expressions she makes when her eyes are crossed and her tongue is out for you and you have difficulty choosing between the two. 

You and Hyeju exchange a tired look. If you’re to be specific, a look is how everything starts. You became friends with her because she was staring at you too long a time in class. You quickly reunited with her in college when you looked to your back to see to whom the familiar voice belonged. It took one quick glance to see that Daniel had kissed her in the noraebang.

Similarly, a look is what causes you to shamelessly throw Hyeju on the bed again. By now her limbs curl into yours like this were a completely natural thing that happened between you, as if she were always being fucked and manhandled like this. Your kisses now are more aggressive, too. They aren’t nervous like earlier, when you still weren't sure if doing this was right. Hyeju responds by engaging in a battle for dominance, pushing forward and pulling the forces connecting you. 

You win in the end.

Slam her back down to the mattress. Her anticipation is written clearly in her eyes. “I’m going to ruin you, Son Hyeju,” you say.

She laughs in your face. “Bet.”

Alright. You’ll show her. It’s a friendly bet you’ll take all seriousness in.

Align your dick with her waiting cunt. You shed all attempts to tease her or dive into foreplay. What she needs is your cock inside her, rearranging her insides. If that’s so, you’ll give it to her. 

“Oh!” Hyeju gasps. Her pretty eyes are big above her hands covering her face. She never guessed you would feel this good inside her. “You’re so fucking big, daddy. It's, it’s better than I imagined, fffuck.”

Steer all your weight into this thrust specifically. Your tip makes contact with her G-spot and sends her legs shaking. Send her a couple inches further on the mattress. Her godly tits begin another round of bouncing. There’s no other routine you’d love to watch. 

Already you've put your hands on her hips. They’re to pull her closer if she gets lost. Again. You have to make sure you won’t lose her this time. This chance was given to you for a reason. You have to keep her here, show her all the love you’ve kept bottled up all these years.

Hyeju squirms a lot. That’s what your grip is for. It’s to keep her on the bed so she can easily receive your pumps. And what a good job she does at receiving them—Hyeju’s hips shiver as they’re subjected to a force her sensitive pussy can’t handle. She’s always going into things she can’t handle. This is no different. Time with Daniel was okay, but you’re a different story. You ensure that she’s always filled to the hilt until she’s bottoming out. 

Deeper and deeper you go. Your cock knocks up into her tummy. You curse; it’s hotter than it’s supposed to be. Something as simple as that shouldn’t be so arousing.

“Oh, you like that? You… you like seeing your big cock stuffing my little pussy?” asks Hyeju. Her teeth are parted to let in air she so desperately needs to formulate these words. She knows they’ll turn you on. “I know you do, daddy. Look at your meat ruining my insides. You’re going to cum so much inside me. And I’ll take it all. I’m a good girl. I’ll show you I’m a good girl.”

She leads your hand to her throat and closes your digits around it. Get the message. Squeeze there tight. Her strangled gasp is everything.

“You are, huh?” you say. Your composure is long gone. “Are you always this tight, Hyeju? Are you always this good? Or is it just for daddy?”

There’s something incredibly hot in the way Hyeju gushes and screams for you. Her nipples stand in the air, aroused by the quick penetrating done to her pussy. It seems almost impossible for her to be this wet. Each push of your hips brings forth a gush of wetness that wets the sheets and your joined crotches. Bring out your cock for a second to quickly flick its tip on her clit.

Hyeju gropes her own chest with closed eyes. “Ohhhh, fuck!” 

Return to your routine of drilling her. Her whole body reacts violently to your pounding. Moreover, every part of Hyeju’s beautiful body screams to be touched. Her jiggling thighs and breasts, her midriff prone to your thrusts, her face that’s never looked this slutty… where should you start? Your touch is given multiple choices, and you choose all of them. Your hands roam her body and squeeze and feel and grope. In response, she moans. The volume of her acute voice turns up with each, almost like her body has triggers that would draw out louder sounds. 

You think of it that way and now Hyeju’s screaming as you propel inside her while keeping a hand on her clit. 

“Daddy, o-only you, daddy!” she proclaims in a helpless scream. “No one can make me feel as good as you do, just keep fucking me, don’t stop!”

You’ve got your answer. Smile in satisfaction and, since she’s a good girl and gave the correct response, lean it to worship her breasts. Does slapping them count as worshiping? Hyeju thinks it does—her high groans and yells are enough to be context clues. You marvel at the size of her chest, so subtle with the baggy clothes she wears but now in their full, naked glory before you. It’s impossible for them to be presented to you without a squeeze being done.

“You like my tits, daddy? I’ll let you fuck them all you want, just finish inside me. I’m safe today. Promise, p-pro—”

Bury yourself deep inside her, to the point that your cockhead pushes at her cervix. Fill her up. Hyeju moans happily. She rolls her body up and down. The stimulation seduces you into making (kind of) breeding her a job well done.

“Thank you, daddy.” she sighs. She’s still erotically grinding her hips. It’s karma for overstimulating her a little earlier when your fingers filled her. 

“S-stop, Hyeju.”

“Stop? Alright, sure. I think that’s enough now. Daddy doesn’t want to fuck my tits anymore.”

Naughty little brat. She knows just the right words to tick you off and turn you on. It makes you want her to pound her into the bed again so that not even the old mattress can forget that it was the place you and Hyeju fucked.

“I’m just kidding, silly. Sit down! Yes, thank you.” 

She flashes you a smile after you do as she says. It’s a rare moment in this session with her that she has the say in what happens. Somehow. It can’t be completely true, not when she’s on her knees again for you. Not when her tongue trails worshipful lines on your cock and draws tight licks on your tip. Shiver. You’re a bit sensitive yourself.

“Now see how good this feels?” 

She takes her glorious breasts in her hands and wraps them around your cock. You let out a guttural moan. Hyeju’s tits rival her mouth and pussy. It’s a close competition, with the advantage of softness most of all. Oh, when she starts to move, gliding her supple skin up and down your size, you almost cum on the spot.

Her bosom is a portal to heaven, you swear. Your legs feel light. Your core is hot as your size disappears between her breasts, buried in the soft and safe haven she provides. The friction is so overwhelming that you doubt it could even be a real sensation.

She makes a show of rubbing your tip on her nipple, similar to what you did to her clit. The two of you are sensitive, so you moan in harmony as it happens. After gliding your cock on her large breasts, she goes back to titfucking you. 

It’s all a matter of technique. Whenever she presses her chest together, your cock is suffocated with euphoric tenderness. On the other hand, when she simply moves up and down, you’re given the opportunity to grind down at the skin between her pale breasts. Each route leads to an inevitable fate: exploding all over her a second time.

"P-please stop, Hyeju," you say. You can't handle no more and there's so many more things you want to do to her.

"Awh." She pouts. Fat tears risk spilling from her eyes. God, she could be so cute sometimes. "What do you want, daddy? I can be good."

"Turn around."

"Ohhh, I see what you want." Hyeju turns around and spanks herself. Her ass ripples photogenically. "Of course. Of course you want it."

Hyeju can be so many things. A few minutes earlier she was a submissive babygirl for her daddy, and right before that she was a brat. Now, she transforms into a seductress. She doesn't lace or lingerie to become one. She has that fantastic body to do the work for her.

Hyeju starts to dance. Your eyes are trained on her. They never want to see anything else than her swaying her butt with a dancer's grace and charm. 

"Giving me a show, huh?" 

"Unless daddy wants it already." 

"I do."

She squeezes her ass cheek before reaching her pussy. Then, she rubs her wetness on her pink, puckered hole. She lathers some at the inside of the rim, too. She didn't expect to fuck you today, no matter how many times she's dreamed of it, so there's no lubricant around. Hyeju has to make do.

"Oh!" she squeals when you give her a playful smack on the ass. "Impatient. Daddy's impatient. Don't worry, I'll give it to you."

“You did this before?”

“Duh.” Hyeju smiles sweetly, quickly returning to her good girl side. “You ready now, daddy?”

Apparently, it’s a rhetorical question, for Hyeju immediately guides your tip into her backside. You do your part in spreading her cheeks. Both of you moan at the first contact. It’s difficult by itself to insert just your tip through. She’s too tight. 

You’re sinking into this long-chased dream. You’ve seen Hyeju walk around the dorm with no shorts on. Sometimes you're able to catch a glimpse of her bare ass when she dresses up in the dark. It’s normal when it’s with you, considering that your friendship transcends time, but she doesn’t know that yearning’s been put in your heart in those moments. You want her. You want Son Hyeju.

And now, she’s submitting herself to you. She’s given you her body, her tits, her pussy. Now she offers you an equally delicious choice: her supple ass that’s bouncy as it finally sits down completely on your lap. 

“Good daddies bounce their babygirls on their knees, right? Should’ve known that, dummy. So come on, pound me. It isn’t hard.”

Well, you are. Hyeju’s ass is constricting you yet you enjoy every second of it. Her tight little asshole clings to you as you do as she says. You’d do anything for Hyeju, and that doesn’t exclude engaging in anal sex with her.

Choose a rhythm to go by to enjoy the tightness Hyeju gives you to the fullest. She leans into you and hums quietly, lower lip worried between her teeth and ass steadily rising and resting. The flexes of your thigh also stimulate her needy pussy. Your knee brushes her clit steadily while your cock penetrates her asshole better than any toy could. Better than any boy would.

“Oh, that feels so good, daddy…” Hyeju murmurs. “Keep spreading me like that, yes.”

Just when she thought you’d switch to being gentle, your thrusts become sporadic. She can’t find which timings you’re going by. The calm before the storm, so to say. Hyeju’s whimpers and whines are your thunder, and they soon live up to their name when they grow louder, filling your ears as would the violent downpour of raindrops. 

“D-daddy, daddy, oh my god—” Pain partners up with pleasure in wrecking her hole. Darn you for reaching in front of her to rub her clit as well. Too many things are happening at the same time. “Daddy better make me cum, please, please—”

Your size fills the tight space of her ass so much that it’s difficult to move. The juices of her pussy that she’s used as makeshift lube can’t even do the job they’re assigned to. However, you don’t care about that. You simply fuck Hyeju’s fat, delectable ass like it’s been your long-term dream. In a way it is, but you’d be dreaming about it long after it’s already been fulfilled.

Hyeju stands up to take the lead and work her butt on you. You know she’s an excellent dancer but you never knew she could be this good at twerking either. 

“Holy shit, Hyeju, your little asshole feels amazing,” you moan. Spank her, though she’s undeserving of punishment when she’s amazing at using that ass.

“And your cock is so fucking big in my ass,” she says. “I don’t want anything else, daddy. Ohh, god, keep doing that.”

Her rear end bounces and claps together as they take in your fat cock. She looks back at you lustfully, watching you ruin her supple ass. Reach for her breasts to match the velocity of her thrusts. You’re two forces colliding, each filled with fire to defeat the other with pleasure. It’s a losing game when Hyeju’s ass is just as good as her pussy, which you continue playing with to bring her to orgasm.

“Good girl, Hye, keep bouncing that fat ass on daddy,” you whisper in her ear. Love to hear her weak little moans; they show you that she likes this as much as you do. Probably more. “You want to cum, right? You want to squirt on me again?”

“Yes, daddy, please!” Hyeju is in paradise although her skin feels like it’s been set on fire. She hasn’t felt this good before. “No other cock can do me the way you do, daddy, I’m all yours! Make me cum, cum inside me, daddy!”

You’ve changed her. She’s a totally different person outside of the bedroom. She hides her approval in sarcastic comments and teases you about them. How is it that she’s completely submissive and good for you? 

Your ego swells. Smack her pussy just enough to make her gasp. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, daddy!” 

“And this ass?”

“It’s all yours, daddy,” sobs Hyeju. “Always so fucking big inside me, so much better, you need to make me cum—”

Pull her down to your lap then thrust inside her all while not letting an inch withdraw from her snug butthole. “Cum for me,” you say.

“Ohhhh fuck!” 

Hyeju begins her sexy body rolls again as a profane spray of clear liquid fires from her pussy. She’s so wet; when you rub her clit, a squelching sound is produced. She’s too turned on from the feeling of you savage pounding inside her. She slaps her own pussy to go along with your rubbing, then leads your fingers inside her cunt again. She’s still so tight. 

The combined feeling of two of her holes being violated has her tired. She could be murmuring a spell and you wouldn’t know because of how jumbled and jarred her words are. The syllables make out your name and title. At least, that’s what you could understand. It would take an experienced veteran transcriber to make sense of Hyeju’s sounds.

You blast her ass with so much cum that it overflows, like water threatening to spill from the brim of a glass. Your joined cores are so wet and sticky that neither of you feel like moving. You want to stay in the narrow yet pleasurable comfort of each other’s touch forever.

It’s so pleasant that you could only hear the gratifying sound of each other’s pants and not the knocks on your door.

So safe that you don’t hear the sound of a lock being skewered with because each other’s bodies are more homely than this dorm.

So distracting that when he comes in through the door and yells in disgust, it’s the first time you feel an awakening sobriety.

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[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 10: Baptism

Contents | Part 9 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) The morning after stirs up a new Ellis, one who returns home with a newfound fire.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, religious imagery, sexual references, scenes of verbal & physical conflict. Readers must be 18+

"Shit." 

You stirred slowly at the sound of Father Benedict's voice, his weight disappearing from beside you, making the mattress bounce and the bed frame creak. 

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit shit." The words left him in a panicked hiss, each utterance catching between his teeth.

You opened one eye, vision fuzzy in the dull morning light, too tired to make sense of what was happening. Why was he swearing? Had he already begun to regret what you'd done?

He hurried across the bedroom in a blur of bare skin and frantic whispers, hopping and stumbling into a pair of underpants as he made his way towards the window. 

"What's wrong?" you croaked, watching as he craned around the curtain, peering down towards the ground outside.

A knock at the front door answered your question. He ducked down quickly, adjusting himself in his pants as he slowly rose back up again. Another knock. 

"Fuck," he whispered. "Shit, fuck-"

"Father?" a distant voice called out. "Father, are you in there?" 

"Is that June?" you asked quietly, eyes widening as you sat up and clutched the duvet to your bare chest, as though the sound of her voice alone was enough to make you feel indecent.

He groaned despairingly into his hands as she knocked again, calling out to him with concern through the letterbox. 

"What's going on?" you whispered. "Why is she here?" 

"Because I- shitting hell," he hissed. "I overslept."

"For what?" 

"Morning bloody prayer. I can't believe I-" He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before unlatching the window and pushing it open. "June! June, up here," he shouted, waving down at her with an apologetic smile. "I am... so sorry, I- I wasn't feeling well last night and I've slept in."

"You slept in?" she replied. Her voice was faint, the wind carrying most of it away. "But I've already opened the church doors-"

"No, no that's fine. Really, I just have to get dressed and then I'll be there." 

"Well people've already started arriving. What do I do in the meantime?"

"Tell her to try out some of her standup material," you muttered from the bed.

He choked back a laugh and swatted his hand at you, like a silent telling off. "Just-" He cleared his throat, taking a moment to straighten his face. "Just tell them I'm running late but shouldn't be more than a few minutes." 

You weren't sure if she said anything else after that - the woman tended to mumble at the best of times - but the sound of her footsteps fading over the gravel driveway made it clear she was retreating.

Father Benedict shut the window and turned around, blowing out a puff of air as he leaned back against the wall. "I can't believe I overslept." 

"You were up late, to be fair," you replied. 

He allowed his eyes to wander, just for a moment, over the messy bed, your bare thigh peeking through a gap in the duvet. "Still," he began, shaking it away and rushing to the wardrobe. "I have a responsibility to my congregation, I can't just... not show up, it's..." 

You sat quietly as he rummaged through his clothes, hanger hooks screeching as he moved them back and forth along the rail. He pulled out a shirt and shrugged it on, turning towards you as he buttoned it up.

"This isn't how I'd ideally have liked this morning to go. But I shouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours," he said. "I lead prayer, then afterwards I host a small social meet for some elderly members, but it won't take long."

Your back straightened slightly. "Y-you... want me to stay here while you're gone?" 

"Yeah," he replied casually as he grabbed a pair of trousers and stepped into them. "Unless- Do you have to be somewhere?"

"No- well, not until later." 

"Okay. Just... help yourself to something to eat, preferably stay away from the windows-"

You giggled. 

"And I'll drive you home when I get back." 

"You really don't have to-"

"I want to."

You conceded, nodding softly and settling back against the headboard. 

He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a pair of socks before hooking his fingers into his shoes and making his way towards the door. "Okay, back soon." 

"You might want to fix your hair," you called out. 

He stopped, turning back to look at you as he ran a hand through the wild locks. "Better?" 

"It'll do." 

You sat on the back doorstep of the rectory, warming your hands on a mug of tea as you watched your dress blowing on the washing line. Last night's storm had given way to a mild morning, but the wind still had a bite, making the dress flutter and dance in the air, the bright yellow fabric billowing like a flag at full mast. You never drank tea; why you'd chosen to make some now was a mystery. It just felt right, the kind of thing a normal person would do whilst they sat waiting for clothes to dry.

The garden was quaint and secluded, a boarder of thick bushes and tall trees beyond the mossy stone walls, enclosing the small pocket of green in total privacy. You sipped your tea as birds chirped and bounced from tree to tree, the smell of the toast you'd made still drifting out from the kitchen.

Maybe this kind of life wouldn't be so bad, you thought. You were sure you could learn to like tea, hang washing on the line every morning, make breakfast as birds sang beyond the garden wall. You could bake cakes for parish fundraisers, have a bunch of kids and give them 'sensible' names like Jacob or Charlotte, take them to mass every weekend, say grace around the dinner table. Maybe it wouldn't matter that you didn't actually believe in any of it, because once the church doors closed and the kids went to bed, it'd be just the two of you. And he already knew, but he wanted you anyway. 

"God, Ellis, get a grip," you muttered. "One night together and suddenly you're the pastor's wife." 

You rose to your feet, pausing on the doorstep to gaze up at a blanket of soft grey clouds rolling in overhead. It was going to rain again, you thought. You made your way back into the kitchen and tipped the last of the tea down the drain, swilling the mug with water and drying it with a tea towel. It was nice to see an empty sink; no plates covered in dried food, no wet, grimy sponges or wine glasses rimmed with Gina's lipstick.

Gina. 

Your stomach turned at the thought of her; how she was probably at home right now waiting for you to come back, or maybe she didn't even care that you were gone. Could you even call that place home anymore? Home was supposed to be a sanctuary; a place of warmth, comfort, safety. Yet all that house seemed to be was a collection of closed doors, strangers with familiar faces and rooms you never spent time in.

The sound of the front door latch made you still, a click followed by a creak, footsteps moving through the house towards you. For a moment you worried it may not be him, how you would explain why you were there, alone, wearing clothes that didn't belong to you. But the fear was fleeting, quelling instantly when a deep, rich voice chimed from the living room.

"Ellis? Are you still here?" 

"Yeah, I'm in here," you replied. 

He stepped halfway through the door with a smile; the same smile you'd come to look forward to whenever you arrived at church. It was charming, gracious, every inch of his face brightening the moment he laid eyes on you. You smiled back, though you weren't sure you could ever produce an expression as naturally warm as his. 

"Hi," he said. 

"Hi." 

"Look what I found." He moved further into the kitchen, revealing a small leather handbag dangling by its strap over his index finger. 

He handed it to you with a smile and you thanked him in a relieved sigh, making your way to the kitchen table and unzipping it with haste. He pulled out the chair beside you and sat down too, stealing a piece of half-eaten toast from the plate you'd left on the table and munching on it quietly as he watched you. 

You took out your phone, tapping your thumbs with futility against the shiny black screen. "Dead," you said. "Thought as much." 

"I think I have a charger somewhere if-"

"Nah it's okay. Haven't paid my phone bill so it makes no difference anyway." 

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he swept the crumbs off his hands. "Do you want to use my phone?" 

"You have a phone?" 

"Why wouldn't I have a phone?" 

"I don't know, just hard to imagine a priest... texting."

"I text." 

You couldn't help the amusement creeping across your face, the thought of his name popping up on your screen; what would you save him as? Ben? Father Benedict? Perhaps just Father would suffice. Daddy?- No, Ellis.

"Do you think priests take vows to live like it's the 1800's or something?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I just assumed if you needed to use a phone you'd have one of those old rotary ones or something." 

"Oh my god." He laughed, too amused to notice the blasphemous slip. 

You slid the phone back into your bag and dragged the zip closed slowly, watching each metal tooth knit together with far more focus than the task required. 

He stopped laughing and cocked his head, eyes darting over your face. "Are you alright?" 

"Hm?" 

"You. Are you okay?"

You remained quiet for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek in thought. "Y'know I've never liked that question. It's too broad, don't you think? Makes my brain feel all jumbled." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, okay in what sense? Physically? Mentally? Right this minute or in life in general?" You relaxed slightly into the back of your chair. "Sometimes, people don't even actually want to know how you are at all, they're just saying it instead of 'hello'..."

A smile curled slightly at one side of his mouth. "Well I actually want to know how you are." 

"In which way?" 

"Let's go with all of them. How are you? In every iteration." 

"Hm. Well, physically, I'm tired, a little sore, my foot is killing me. But emotionally I feel... weirdly calm; like last night changed something in me. But I'm not necessarily sure that's a bad thing."

"You feel different?"

"Yeah. Don't you?" 

He let his head fall slightly to one side, his gaze turning distant, just for a moment. "No." He shook his head, focusing his attention back on you. "Honestly, I thought I would. I went to sleep last night convinced I'd wake up full of regret and shame and- no offence-"

"Mm," you replied sarcastically.

"But I didn't. I still felt... like me. Like nothing's changed." 

"Even after all that sinning you did?" you joked. "You sinned a lot, father." 

He dropped his head to hide a smirk. "Hey, what happens in the rectory stays in the rectory." 

Your shoulders shook with a chuckle, making him smile. 

"I like it when you laugh," he said softly. "You don't do it enough." 

You glanced across at him; at those sea foam eyes, so striking against the tired red of their waterlines. 

"I have a stupid laugh," you replied quietly. 

He smiled, shifting in his seat to move himself closer, his body leaning in slowly towards you. "You have a lovely laugh."

It was strange, how even after a night like last night - after growing so familiar with the intricacies of his body and submitting yours so willingly to him - the sight of his face edging closer, lips parting gently in anticipation, was still so butterfly-inducing. 

You'd resigned yourself to the idea that you'd never get to kiss him again, that when the sun rose that morning, all of the intimacy you'd shared would be washed away with last night's storm. Yet here you were, gazing at him through heavy lashes, your focus rolling slowly back and forth between his eyes and mouth as you sat perfectly still, letting him come to you. Closer and closer until you couldn't see anything but him, couldn't hear anything besides your own heartbeat, the gentle pattering of rain against the kitchen window. 

Rain. 

"Oh, shit!" You jumped up quickly and bolted to the back door, throwing it open and hurrying over the grass towards the washing line.

You were back in the dress, although you weren't sure it resembled sunshine much anymore. There were patches that hadn't fully dried, smudges of dirt from holding your shoes in your lap, and a small bloodstain on the skirt. Yesterday, you'd felt pretty when you put it on. Today, you hadn't even dared glance at your own reflection. 

Father Benedict turned the heat up in the car, sliding the vents to point the warm air in your direction. You were thankful for it, relaxing back into the seat and staring out the window as he drove, slowing for a red light almost as soon as he pulled out of the church grounds. 

"So where are you going to say you were last night?" he asked. 

You could tell the question had been itching to get out, dancing on his tongue until he finally found the right moment to let it spill. 

"I haven't thought about it," you replied. "Suppose it's none of their business where I was." 

"What if anyone else asks?" 

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing there was a specific answer he wanted to hear, one that would free the tension he'd been holding in his shoulders since he'd got behind the wheel. 

"I'm not going to tell anyone what happened, Father," you finally replied, trying your best to make your voice sound soft, reassuring, trustworthy. 

He glanced over at you for a second before fixing his gaze back on the road, the light finally turning green again.

"Thank you," he said. "I mean, it's not that I- I'm not saying I want to pretend this never happened or anything. I just..."

"Want to pretend this never happened." 

He laughed gently through his nose. "No. I just need to figure out the best way to navigate through-"

"Navigate," you groaned teasingly. "God, you sound like an internet life coach."

He rolled his eyes. "Navigate is a perfectly normal word."

"It's a fluffer. You're fluffing up the point you're trying to make." 

He looked at you again, longer this time. "Alright. I don't want to give up my priesthood." 

"I know. I never expected you would." 

"It's who I am. My faith, it's... such an integral part of me. And that's not me saying last night wasn't also me. I just... You've thrown some things into question, made me act in ways that definitely wouldn't go down well if the church found out." 

"I made you?" 

He smirked. "Mhm, all your fault." 

You turned back to the window, biting your lip to suppress a smile. "At least you won't have to deal with me hanging around the church anymore." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well I admitted I lied. I'm just a big fat nonbeliever. No reason for me to attend services anymore." 

He paused in thought, steering the car smoothly with his large, agile hands. The movement made you shiver; the sight of his fingers curling around the wheel, the protruding knuckles and prominent veins, even more attractive now you knew what it felt like to have them on you. 

"So does that mean you won't be coming to help out on Thursday?" he asked, entirely oblivious to your ogling. 

"Thursday?"

"The communion session."

You closed your eyes, letting out a long, exasperated exhale. "Shit," you whispered. "I forgot about that."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he said. "I can make do-"

"No, no, I offered to help out."

With every traffic light, every turn of a corner and familiar street, you felt the tension turning your limbs to stone. Nerves flooded your stomach at the thought of walking back into that house, confronting the people you somehow wanted to slap and thank at the same time. 

Father Benedict bumped the kerb gently, rolling to a stop beside the front gate. He pulled the handbrake, the car plummeting into silence as he switched off the engine, the only sound coming from your deep intake of breath, the sigh that left you as you turned your head to face him. 

You took a moment to look at him, to let your eyes skim over every line and curve of his face. You would see him again, of course you would, but not like this. 

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked.

You nodded, allowing a quick smile before grabbing your bag and the straps of your shoes. 

"Ellis..." 

You glanced back up to find him staring straight ahead through the windshield, head tipped back slightly against the headrest. 

"I meant what I said last night." He didn't look at you. "You shouldn't let anyone who isn't worthy go near you again." 

It made everything feel more real, somehow, hearing those words repeated without the cloud of heat and lust surrounding you. 

"Promise me," he said, finally making eye contact. 

"I promise." The words left you in an awkward stammer, mouth moving before your brain had a chance to catch up. 

You undid your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, the hinges groaning and grinding as you pushed your elbow against the door, always forgetting how stiff it was until you found yourself fighting to open it.

You leaned all of your weight into it, but it didn't budge. "It's jammed," you said. "Like actually jammed this time." 

He sighed and unclipped his seatbelt. "Honestly, this piece of shit car," he mumbled as he leaned over to help.

His body was stretched across yours, so close you could see the muscles straining in his neck, feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. You pressed your back into the seat to give him more room, watching his throat bob with a hard swallow as he pushed on the door, finally getting it to open.

"There we are," he groaned. 

"Thanks," you said softly.

He looked at you, still leant over your body, eyes falling to your chest as it rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths. And when his gaze snapped back up to meet yours, there was an entirely different expression on his face. 

"Alfie!" Gina's voice screeched in the distance, turning the heat between you ice cold. 

You turned to see her on the front doorstep of the house, her panic and anger clear despite the distance between you. 

"Alfie! It's Ellis, she's back!"

You sighed and climbed out of the car, closing the door behind you with your hip.

"Where the fuck have you been!?"

You didn't answer her, walking barefoot over the pavement towards the gate, barely getting it open before Alfie appeared at her side. He pushed past her, steam practically rising from the top of his head as he came bounding down the path towards you. 

"What the fuck are you playing at, Ellis!?" he shouted. 

You'd never seen him like this before, so aggressive in his movements, clenched teeth and balled fists, the fury palpable beneath his skin. 

"Just disappearing like that!? Not answering your phone all night!? Do you know how fucking worried we've been!? We were this close to calling the fucking police!-" 

He stopped a few feet away from you, his focus shifting to the tall figure emerging from the car. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he watched Father Benedict approaching. 

"Don't I know you...?" he muttered in confusion. 

"It's the vicar," Gina called out, hurrying down the path. 

"Priest," you corrected bluntly.

"Really, Ellis?" Alfie snarled. "Is this a fucking joke!? I've been up all night with no idea where you were, and you've been with him!?" 

He marched angrily towards you, stopping suddenly when Father Benedict stepped in the way.

"Whoa there," your priest said calmly, voice so deep it was almost inaudible.

Alfie took a breath, back straightening as he glared at the man in front of him. "What? You think I was going to hit her?" He sneered in genuine offence. "What kind of man do you think I am?" 

"Probably best I don't answer that question," Father Benedict quipped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Let's just calm down and go inside," said Gina, grabbing Alfie by the sleeve of his shirt.

He shrugged her off. "No. I want to know who the fuck this guy thinks he is." 

"He's the guy who let me sleep on his couch when I said I didn't want to come home," you said. "Because I caught my boyfriend fucking my best friend, in case you'd forgot that part." 

"Oh of course you're piping up now you've got this dick head sticking up for you." 

Father Benedict smiled, which only seemed to irritate him more.

"What's a priest doing getting all pally with some random woman who doesn't even believe in God anyway? It's fucking creepy, you're a fucking creep." He pointed his finger in his face, spitting the words at him. 

"Put the finger down," he said calmly. 

"What? This?" He began pushing it hard into his chest, poking and prodding him roughly.

"Oh Alfie, grow up," you said. 

"I understand you've been worried about her," said Father Benedict, gripping him firmly by the wrist to stop the childish assault. "But taking your anger out on me isn't going to solve anything. I was just dropping her home." 

"Do you want a medal?" He snatched his hand away. "Want me to thank you for harbouring her in your house while I worried sick all night?" 

You couldn't help but scoff. "I wouldn't have left in the first place if you hadn't been sleeping with-"

"You shut-"

It all happened so fast you barely had time to react; Alfie turning towards you, pointing in your face as he took another quick, belligerent step forward. Father Benedict intercepting with a swift swing of his arm, his fist cracking against the side of his face and knocking him to the ground. 

You took a sharp breath, somewhere between a gasp and a choke, watching as Gina dropped to her knees at Alfie's side with a panicked yell. Father Benedict sucked in the air through his teeth, hissing as he shook his hand, a pained expression scrunching his nose. 

"Oh my god," you breathed, grabbing him by the upper arms and pulling him back, dragging him over to the car.

"Fuck sake," he whispered, opening and closing his fist. 

"I can't believe you just did that." 

"I'm so sorry, I just- I thought he was going to-"

"What the fuck!?" Gina shouted. "Aren't you supposed to be a fucking pacifist or some shit!?" 

Alfie groaned, pushing her hands away as she tried to examine his face. 

"Just go inside, Gina, Jesus Christ!" you shouted. 

You took his hand in yours and he let you hold it for a moment, looking over the grazes on his knuckles in stunned silence.  "It's okay, I'm alright," he said, gently pulling away and shaking it out again.

"You prick," Alfie spat as he clambered to his feet.

You sighed, nodding towards the car. "You should go." 

He hesitated, eyes darting between his hand and the face he'd just pummelled with it. 

"I'll be fine," you insisted. "Honestly. He's a dick but he wouldn't hurt me." 

"Forgive me for finding that hard to believe." 

"He wouldn't, I swear. I just want to go upstairs, get a shower, get my stuff together. I'll be alright." 

There was a deep, reluctant rumble in his throat before he finally gave in, turning to make his way to the driver's side door. You exhaled a shaking breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him get in, trying to ignore the chaos still erupting behind you. 

He got in the car and shut the door, concern etched between his brows as he looked at you through the passenger window. You gave a reassuring smile and waved him off, stepping back through the gate.

"Wait, Ellis," he called as he rolled down the window and leaned over. "Here." 

You walked closer, plucking a small piece of paper from his outstretched fingers. 

"If you need me," he said simply. 

You looked down at the paper as the car rolled away, a mobile number scribbled hastily across it, 'I text' written below. You laughed to yourself and closed your fist around it, turning on your sore, bare heels and making your way up the path towards the house. 

You'd made it halfway upstairs when you heard the front door slam behind you, the sound of footsteps hurrying after you. 

"Wait, Ellis," Gina barked. "Do you not think we need to talk!?" 

You spun around, looking down at her as she followed you. "No, I don't." 

"I'm pressing charges on him," said Alfie.

"He was protecting me," you replied angrily. "He thought you were about to hit me." 

"Look, I don't care about what happened out there," said Gina. 

"I fucking do," Alfie mumbled. 

"We need to talk about yesterday." 

You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs. "You mean when I walked in on you screwing my boyfriend?" 

"Ellis-"

"How long? Actually, y'know what? I don't care. You're welcome to him. I was done anyway." 

"What?" Alfie shouted, jogging up to catch you. 

You walked down the landing to your bedroom, turning just before you reached the door. "I was done. With us." 

He pushed past Gina, making his way towards you. There was a bright red mark on the side of his face, a cut on his lip and blood smeared around his nostril. You almost felt bad for him, but then he spoke. 

"You are fucking him, aren't you!" 

You sighed, opening the door and stepping into your room. "What are you-"

"The priest! That's where you were last night, that's why he just punched me in the face like some fucking yob in a nightclub-"

"Anything to make yourself feel better about what you did, Alfie." 

You slid open a drawer and pulled out a towel, wedging it under your arm as you fished for some clean clothes. 

"You're not denying it," he said from the doorway. 

"I have denied it, you just don't want to listen." 

"Bullshit. You've been acting different ever since you started going to that church. I knew there had to be a reason for it. It's not normal, Ellis! And I don't buy for one second you've just made innocent pals with that guy. It's- It's weird! Leaving me here so you can go and spend time with that-"

"Do you know what, fine. Yeah, I slept with him," you began, walking towards him. "And do you know something else? He was better, and bigger, and more skilled than you could ever hope to be." 

He swallowed, his face hard and unamused, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to figure out if you were lying or not. 

You came face-to-face with him, leaning in to speak slowly and quietly. "He made me come so hard he had to cover my mouth just to keep me quiet." 

You elbowed past him, leaving him speechless behind you. 

"Ellis," said Gina, standing in the way of the bathroom. "I just want to talk-"

"I don't have anything to say," you interrupted bluntly. "Our entire friendship has just been you keeping me around to make yourself feel better. Patronising me, infantilising me, making me feel so wildly uncomfortable about who I am. You've made it very clear you can have any man you want, yet you decided to fuck mine. All because I stood up to you at the christening, made you feel stupid for half a fucking second." 

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's not like that." 

You stepped around her, pushing into the bathroom. 

"I think I actually have feelings for him, Ellis." 

"Of course you do. And you know what? Congratulations. I'm glad it's you he'll be flailing about on top of instead of me." 

Her jaw sharpened, teeth grinding behind pursed lips. "Y'know... I think you should probably look for somewhere else to live..." 

You gave a dry laugh. "Shags my boyfriend then kicks me out. Classic Gina." 

You slammed the door and locked it, letting your forehead rest against the wood for a moment as you caught your breath. That was so unlike you. All of it. The harshness, the sarcasm, the honesty. It felt good. So why were you trembling?

You stripped off your dress and sat on the edge of the bath, gently peeling away the dressing from the sole of your foot. It didn't look as bad as it felt, the dried blood covering a small slice, the skin around it darkening with a bruise. 

You turned on the shower, holding your hand beneath the water until it warmed up, watching the stream run off the tips of your fingers like ribbons. This water was going to cleanse you; wash away the dirt and sweat and rain, the anger, the shame. You were going to scrub it all away and step out anew. 

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#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #priest!benedict #priest kink #hot priest #fanfic smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #smut writing #smut fanfiction #smut #eventual smut #lemon #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #benedict x reader #benedict x you #fanfic series #sherlock smut

[nyxthejinx]

ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ 1 | ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴀʟᴋ

Wowowow another short and cryptic chapter!! If it doesn't make sense it means it's working :) it will- in due time. For now I just wanna smooch my loves 😔

[ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ ] You're not part of the script, they must get rid of you. But will the Hunters become the hunted once your true nature is revealed?

[ ᴛᴡ ] talking about dying in the beginning with some graphic description (lots of nihilism on reader's part), generic description of blood, smoking, Kafka lil kissie mwah, lemme know if I'm forgetting anything (it's 5 am 🙃) finally baby Blade enters the scene!!!

[ ꜰᴛ. ] Kafka x GN!Reader x Blade

[ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ] 718

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ.

If it wore a sword’s, a knife’s or a gun’s clothes. If it appeared as a bottomless pit, staring at the depths of existence, or if it looks like the ground inching closer the more you lose altitude.

You think of sidereal space and the cold it harbours, of those fifteen to thirty seconds necessary to run out of oxygen, of those twelve to twenty-six hours it takes for the body heat to disperse, in the lack of atmosphere.

You imagine how it would be to be torn apart, choked, burned, have your flesh chewed to its bones. You imagine a pain that finally ceases, once the body has been slaughtered.

Going to sleep without the risk of waking up again: you project the image in your mind.

Before Kafka bursts your little bubble, dragging you back into the elevator.

“Your death will not be vain, Drifter. It serves for a greater cause."

She smiles in the corner of your eye, pristine and serene as if she wasn’t asking —ordering— you to die for her cause. Kafka is an amazing dancer when it comes to sticking to the choreography, lest the outcome steer away from what her master foresees.

No matter what it takes. Who it takes: the script has been set in stone already.

Too bad death is the last of your concerns, and so are her empty, poorly crafted words.

“I don’t really care.” You shrug.

Kafka’s brows shoot up in mild surprise, but she’s chuckling the next second already. Her eyes wrinkle at the sides, her shoulders shake gently— the radiant darkness of her soul glows brighter than ever and she’s just something else, straight out of this world.

“Are you mad at me?” She inquires, unfolding her arms to run a knuckle over your cheek.

Trying to process her words feels so impossible under her touch. Your feelings have long faded like cheap colours, brush strokes watered down by time, flowing into a grey puddle at your feet. There’s something stirring inside your chest, you know it- but how can you name it when your skin tingles and your knees go weak?

It’s not fair. But you lean in anyway, letting your eyes fall shut briefly. “Does it matter?”

“Not really, no.” She sighs. “Frilly words won’t change a thing, especially yours.”

“A kiss would, though.” You place a hand over hers, flutter your lashes gingerly. “I’d die with a silly grin on my face.”

“That can be arranged.”

Her smiling lips lock on yours, gentler than last time. There’s no love, no passion, no longing nor lust— it feels like a sorry kiss, a consolation prize, a sop to prevent rebellion. But it’s also one to be broken reluctantly, as both her hands drag you deeper by the jaw and trace your cheekbones with unexpected tenderness.

Maybe there was personal pleasure hiding behind her sense of duty, that night. But it ends all too soon and you will never tell.

Kafka leans back, cleaning the smeared gloss from the corner of your mouth. You glance at the panel in the elevator, see that you’ve almost reached the final destination.

If the Hunter is saddened, she doesn’t show it.

She's busier rummaging through the pocket of her coat now, as she pulls out a cigarette tin you know very well; it’s yours, just like the smoke she extends to your lips. You hold it gladly, waiting for her to light it.

“It wasn’t my choice.” Kafka whispers, voice delicate like the flame of your lighter.

Once the cigarette burns to life, you don't waste time— you inhale until your lungs are full of cloves with a hint of cinnamon, until it invades your senses and makes your mind dizzy in a way that never gets old. It tastes of memories you can’t remember, dreams yet to be dreamed, but most of all nostalgia you have no reason to experience.

"I know." You exhale eventually, as your shoulders sag. “Just remember me, even if it’s meaningless.”

Kafka smiles yet again, brushes your cheek as her other hand returns the two items to you. Inside the pocket above your heart.

And your lips quirk in the slightest, before the elevator stops at the floor where your blood will spill.

-

"Another one like you, Bladie." Kafka ponders, staring at the merging skin of your freshly wounded neck.

The puddle growing at your knees and the crimson path staining your clothes would convince anyone that a life was taken, today.

But the iridescent purples and blues lining your blood tell another story.

The story of someone who's walked across this universe for many years. Centuries, millenniums even.

Someone just like him.

Who Blade sees smiling at him, as if his sword wasn't dripping with their blood.

"Not yet, so it seems."

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Honkai Star rail x reader #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #hsr Kafka #Blade x reader #hsr blade #Honkai Star Rail #gn reader #| Star Rail 🌓 | #| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Sinners: Part of the Head Filled With Demons AU (Steddie X You)

Continuation of this here

A/N: I bare you a gift :) I'm putting it in the Head Filled with Demon's Masterlist because I don't anticipate this being too long but definitely more to come!

Warnings: Demon Soft Dom Steddie and Sub Fem Human Reader, SMUT, light choking, dirty talk, threesome (of course), FLUFF, the love each other, an old friend comes to visit, ANGST, brief mentions of homophobic behavior within our realm and theirs, Stevie is insecure about his relationship with Eddie (mentions fears of losing him), brief talk about grief and deaths of the readers parents, these three get into a bit of a fight (more of a disagreement). I think that's all.

I would highly recommend reading the previous series before starting this one if you haven't already. It explains about the AU they are in and other things.

Word Count: 5871

"Just a couple secret sinners...Yeah, she's just what he eats for dinner."

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“No but I trust you two.”, you giggle.

Since being released from their eternity trapped in the stone, things between the three of you had been going exceptionally well. You had travelled a lot and shown them all the things they missed out on. So much had changed over the years so seeing the evolution of towns and cities they had been privy to during different time periods now had a new look. 

There were a bunch of accommodations Eddie and Steve had to make now that they were free. The hardest one was finally being seen. When someone would address them, it would take them awhile to grasp that the person was speaking to them. Because they were still in your realm, they had to wear their masks almost 24/7 and you knew it killed them to not be themselves. This is why you suggested little things like tonight. 

While camping in a remote countryside for the night, you recommended that they spread their wings and fly. Eddie thought it would be fun to show you what it was like so you agreed.

“Ok, you have to hold on to me tightly, honey.”

Wrapping your arms around Steve’s neck, you jump into his own and smile as his wings break free. Shifting your gaze towards the long-haired demon, your grin grew when you saw he had fully converted back to his demon form. Steve had done the same to a point so his skin wouldn’t hurt yours as you clung to him. 

“Here we go.”

You squealed as you keened into his neck and wind abruptly rushed around you. 

“You’re not going to see anything if you keep your eyes closed, sweetheart!”

Daring a peak, your heart skipped a beat when you saw how high you three were but became distracted when you noticed the smiles on both their faces. Just to be able to roam free was exciting in itself but to be themselves again with you was a new kind of euphoria that they would never take for granted. 

Landing on a water tower, Steve placed you carefully on your feet before hovering in front of you. 

“You should fully change like he did.”

Nodding, he takes your suggestion and you beam up at him as Eddie slowly descends beside his side. 

“It’s still amazes me you aren’t afraid of us like this.”

“I mean, you still look like you just with rougher, dark skin, red eyes, wings, and horns.”

“Oh yeah, totally. Just those little differences.”, the long-haired demon teases.

“I’m sorry you guys can’t be yourselves all the time. I wish you could go home.”

Steve flies closer and caresses your cheek with his thumb. 

“But then we wouldn’t be able to be with you.”

“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s head back so you can eat something.” Eddie changed a bit so he could take you in his arms. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”, you laugh as he smiles. 

“That’s fair.” His grip on you tightens as he flies off, spinning in the air as he jets forward. 

“Eddie, don’t scare her!”

“She’s fine! As long as she doesn’t throw up on me!”

***

You will never get used to the euphoria they make you feel when they make love to you and you’re completely ok with that. With every kiss, touch, and thrust of them inside you, your body comes to life and you feel like you would do anything for them. With your ex you thought you were in love, but these demons (your demons) showed you what being loved and being in love was really like. You couldn’t get enough. 

Clinging to Eddie’s shoulders, you mewled as his breath warmed the shell of your ear and he pumped his hips harder, hitting your g-spot roughly.

“Yes, Edward. Just like that, baby.”

“Like that, princess? Fuck you feel so good.”

Steve, having had his release long ago, kissed along both your bodies from beside you, his hands finding purchase anywhere they could land. 

Every time they were able to be themselves, the demon libido took over and you loved when it did. They could go for hours and at times when you were too worn out to continue they would play with each other. 

Those first few months, you noticed Steve was still slightly afraid that Eddie would no longer need him intimately anymore but the long-haired demon squashed that notion any chance he could reminding his friend that they were now more than. Sometimes it would be something small like Eddie holding his hand or running his palm along the demon’s back as they sat there and watched you eat a meal. Other times it was a grand gesture like randomly cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to his own or smacking his ass in front of room full of people making Steve blush while you two giggled. 

Your fingers tangled in Eddie’s long wavy mane as you trembled beneath him, moaning his name as you came. His lips danced with your own while he fucked you through it and chased his own high. Growling and grunting, he soon followed, releasing his spend deep inside of you. 

The cool night air hit your sweaty skin as he rolled to your side and adjusted the blanket to cover you up a bit more. 

“Next place we stop at should be a hotel so you can shower and all that.”

“So I can shower?”, you laugh as you smile up at him. “Steve, now that you’re out in the world again, you get dirty to and can smell!”

Eddie quietly chuckles beside you as his fingers absently roamed along your body.

“Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean.”, he sasses as he turns onto his back and gazes up at the sky.

“During your war, did you guys sleep outside like this?”

“Yeah but our sky isn’t as pretty as yours.”, Eddie replies as he rolls onto his back as well. “We don’t have stars. Also, because of the battles and everything usually there was smoke in the air.”

“What was it like before cities and skyscrapers in my realm?”

“The first time we were summoned was around the late 1600s. At night while he slept, we looked out into the countryside and the grass was bright green, illuminating even in the dark. The way the trees moved when the wind blew was just gorgeous.”

“Sometime in the 1700s, we were near the water. I always thought the boats were fascinating. They reminded of stories my uncle would read to me when I was a kid. The sound of the waves crashing and smelling the salt of the ocean at night was amazing.”

“That sounds beautiful. I wish…I wish I could have…seen it all with…you.”, you mumble as your eyes start to get heavy with sleep. 

They both smile as they watch you drift off. Now that they were no longer in the stone, they were able to sleep but it took some getting used to like everything else. They had always assumed it was part of their curse that they never got tired or slept while in stone. Those first few nights of freedom they tried to keep their eyes open and on you, fearing something may happen if they weren’t alert. 

You assured them you were safe but always allowed them to do what they needed to feel comfortable. Normally they would just pull you close like a teddy bear which you definitely didn’t mind but more and more frequently they seemed content with just having any body part on you as they slept. Tonight, Eddie rolled on to his side and threw his arm over your stomach while Steve nuzzled into your side, pressing his nose to your cheek as he placed his own arm over the other demon’s. 

##############

“Oh, wow. Steven, look at this.”, Eddie beckoned at the other demon as his eyes widened in amusement. “These guitars are exceptional.”

You grin as he took in all the instruments in front of him at the museum you were visiting. This had been your favorite part of traveling with them; seeing them take in and learn all the new things around them. Steve so far was completely flabbergasted with technology. Of course, they saw summoners use or utilize any device that was available at the time but for them it had been confined to the knowledge within the area they happened to be in. Add in the fact that they would go decades without being called, sometimes they missed evolutions entirely. 

Eddie loved looking at and listening to music from any time. On your adventure, you three had stopped at a few bars where different types of bands would play and his eyes would light up like a kid listening to a story being read to them. 

“That thing you do when you play, can you do it with any instrument or is it a specific guitar?”, you ask. 

“Um, so far it’s any guitar. I’ve honestly never tried other stuff.” 

Steve abruptly straightens up as his head swivels to look around him. 

“What?”, the other demon inquires becoming more alert as well. 

“Someone’s here who doesn’t belong.” He grabs your hand and the three of you run out into the parking lot as you fumble for your keys.

Abruptly, you feel arms wrap around your waist and you gasp as your hoisted into the air. You can’t see who or what is holding you but you know you’re flying as the wind slaps you face. 

You scream as you’re let go of but are immediately caught by a winged Eddie as you both tumble to the ground. 

“Sweetheart, fuck that hurt. Are you okay?!”

“Yeah…I…who…what happened?”

Hearing the growls, you both turn just as Steve rises to his feet after having tackled the creature that grabbed you to ground and pins it to the grassy earth below him. 

“Jesus. Took you long enough!” The demon’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he lifted off the helmet blocking the person’s face and was met with a big grin. “You’ve gotten slower, old man.”

“Dustin? Holy shit.”

The boy laughed as he fell forward to hug him before helping him to his feet.

“Dustin?”

“Hey, Edward.” Their friend wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before turning to you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I had a good grip on you but I wasn’t prepared for the tackle landing. I’m Dustin.”

“Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”, you smile but hesitate to shake his hand when you notice the demon skin. 

“Oh, shit. Different world. Um, hang on.” Red light flashes as the young boy transforms in front of you to look more like the men beside him. “There we go.”

He beams proudly when you’re able to greet him and goes the extra mile of kissing the back of your hand. 

“Alright, kid.”, Steve chastises as he pulls on the demon’s collar. “Last I checked you have a wife. This one is ours and speaking of…” Dustin flinches when his huge palm hits the back of his head. “You could have hurt her. You have to be more careful.”

“Hell, you’re lucky we didn’t kill you.”, Eddie scolded. “What are you doing here?”

“Does this realm have a bar. I have some news for you.”

#############

“God this is fucking delicious. What is it called?”, Dustin asks as he slams down his third empty glass. You learned from the boys that demons like them have a pretty high tolerance since the alcohol from their realm was a lot stronger than what you had here. 

“Beer. Now, for the fourth time, WHY ARE YOU HERE?!”, Steve asks sternly making the young demon smile at you. 

“They haven’t changed.”, he chuckles. “I’ve been looking for you two for a while now. Things have shifted back home. The king passed away.”

“Chrissy’s dad died?”, Eddie inquired as he leaned forward while you reached for his hand under the table.

“Yeah about 100 some odd years ago. Things got bad after you two disappeared.”, Dustin sighed. “Actually, it was after pretty boy prince vanished—”

“Henry?”

The boy’s eyes widen in amusement, seemingly impressed by your question. 

“Yes, wow. Um, so Henry went missing a few years after you both and while they were hunting for you, people were hunting for him. During that time another war broke out as the two kings fought for power and dominion.”

“Who won?”

“Essentially, no one. Both sides lost so many people…including your father, Steven.”

Your worried eyes scanned him over as his gaze shifted to the void in front of him. 

“What about Robin?”

“She’s safe; kicked a bunch of asses of course. Your uncle to, Ed. He helped watch out for the younger ones and trained them, kind of becoming like a surrogate dad.”

“Sounds about right.”, he grins. 

“Our people came out on top and have actually been in relative peace for the last 200 years. Robin and I still manage the militia but we haven’t needed them. Henry’s dad gave up looking for him—”

“And they won’t find him anytime soon.”, Eddie adds; his fingers squeezing yours.

“BUT the boys and I did some research and found out what happened to you two…how you were trapped in that stone… when our soldiers came back empty handed it gave some truth to the narrative which also helped us to prove your innocence, Edward.”

Both Steve and Eddie’s eyes shot up towards the young demon as he smiled. 

“Yeah, we were able to prove that you didn’t kill Chrissy and it was most likely Henry.”

“It was. He showed us how he did it to.”, you added.

“Before he died, the king pardoned you both and said that you could come home.”

Both their mouths dropped before the turned to you and noticed you were smiling. 

“Wow…that’s amazing. You two really are free now.”, you murmured as you tried to keep your demeanor in check. “This is fantastic.”

“Hey, um, kid can you give us a moment.”

Nonchalantly, the boy shrugged as he got up to get a refill, completely unaware of the bomb he had just dropped amongst you three. 

“You have to go back.”, you whispered.

“We…we can’t take you with us, Y/N. You would die as soon as you entered our realm.”

“Then you have to leave me—”

“No.”, Eddie growled. “No. I’ve had this situation come up enough when it comes to losing you except this time I actually have a fucking choice. My answer is no.”

“Ma-Maybe…this was inevitable. I mean… how long do your people live? I would grow old and die while you guys lived another few thousand years…”

As you glanced between them, you noticed their eyes were closed as they tried to keep their masks in control. 

“We can find a way, Y/N.”, Steve seethed through gritted teeth. 

“How? How, baby?”

“I don’t know!”, he bellowed in his deep demon voice that caused some patrons to turn. 

“See? At least back home, you can be yourselves again. You won’t have to hide. You both have spent so many years running and hiding. Then you were imprisoned… you deserve to go home.”

“No. We deserve you, the woman that saved us.”, Eddie replied trying to keep his own voice in line. “And believe it or not, sweetheart, but there are other factors to consider besides us leaving you behind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Demons in our realm…wouldn’t exactly…understand us.” He gestured between himself and Steve as the other demon snapped his head towards the window doing everything he could not open his eyes to reveal the red beneath them.

“What? Why?”

“Pfft, does your kind?”, Eddie scoffed. “We’ve spent years hearing the hateful rhetoric in your world. Remember, we had a summoner kill his boyfriend’s father so they could be together. Add in the fact that, once again, I’m the fucking commoner fucking royalty.”

The growl that comes from Steve’s chest is almost too loud to ignore as red quickly flashes through the bar and he runs towards the door before flying into the sky not caring if anyone saw him. Eddie chuckled as he rose to his feet and tugged at your hand. 

“Princess, can you lead me outside so we can follow him? I have a feeling this is going to be one of those fights and I wouldn’t want to draw any more attention.”

***

You two found Steve back near where you had camped the previous evening, completely transformed into his demon appearance as he paced and fumed. 

“Fuck you!”, he screamed as soon Eddie’s feet touched the ground. “Is that how it would be when we got back?! Is that how you would see me?! As someone who’s above you?!”

“Excuse the fuck out of me for speaking the truth. You WERE above me, Steven. We may have been best friends but your rank and father’s position had you at a higher status.”

“So if we went home, things would go back to how they were?! We would just pretend then?!”

Dustin landed beside you with a beer in his hand, offering you some that you decline. 

“Am I missing something?”, he whispers.

“Yes, Dustin! You missed many things over the eons we were locked up in isolation.”, Steve sassed. “Fun fact, Edward and I aren’t just friends anymore. Yup. We fuck each other and fell in love.”

“Huh.”, the boy muses as a takes a sip of his drink. “Well, shit.”

“But that doesn’t matter I guess because Edward is a fucking peasant and sooooo beneath me.”, he mocks causing Eddie to roll his eyes. “Cool. Well now I’m more excited than ever to go back. I have no family, no you, and no Y/N but I’ll be home!”

“You’re all in a…”, Dustin asks gesturing between the three of you and again he makes a tiny huh sound when you nod.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be with you, you asshole. I was explaining to Y/N why us being together would be fucking difficult. Do you think Chrissy and I just snuck around for fun?! I understand what it’s like in our realm to be in love with someone in a higher status and YOU know what it’s like with the other concern because of Robin. You know the hell she goes through! Went through…I don’t fucking know! To be honest, this fight seems pointless because even if we did go home we’d still have a mask on AND we wouldn’t have Y/N.”

“You wouldn’t fight for me, Edward?”

Steve’s tone pierced Eddie’s heart causing the demon to stomp forward and grab his cheeks.

“I fought with you and beside you for most of my life, Steven. Not only would I fight for you but I’d die for you to, you idiot.” His lips connect to his own before hugging him tightly to his chest. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You guys don’t have to come home. I’ve just been looking for you to tell you that you could. Of course, we miss you guys but your friends and family love you. We want you to be happy.”

Steve reaches out and ruffles the boy’s hair as the young man giggles.

“Now is there a place we can rest because I am exhausted!”

***

As you pretended to sleep in your comfy hotel room bed, you listened to the three of them talk on the mattress next to yours. 

“I can’t believe you’re a dad now, man.”, Eddie chuckles as he looks over the pictures Dustin gave him. 

“Yeah, four of them, and Suzie wants another one. She had a big family, you know.”, he grins as he points to one of the boys in the photo. “My oldest son, his full name is Steven Edward Henderson.”

“Aw, dude.”, Steve coos as he reaches out to hug him. 

“Your uncle babysits them for me and he says they are just as wild as you were, Ed. He takes them outside to the forest sometimes to let them run and play. They love it. Since we found peace, everything has gotten so much clearer and cleaner. Less smoke and an angry red background to illuminate your evenings.”

“What about Robin? IS she happy.”

“Yeah. She misses you a lot and tells the kids stories of your adventures together.”

“Who took over after the king passed?”

“He passed the reigns to a cousin within the family. Someone he said Chrissy trusted.” Both demons nodded as a heavy sigh escaped their lips. “So, you love this girl, huh? She seems really sweet.”

“And strong. She’s been through a lot in her short human life but yeah…we love her.”

“She saved our lives.”, Steve added as they all looked over at you. “Got us out of that stone. She’s always been so selfless even now…willing to break her own heart by telling us to go home. I can’t do it, dude. I can’t abandon her here by herself after everything she’s done. I feel like…she’s apart of us.”

“Like if we lost her, we’d lose a piece of ourselves.”, Eddie explained making Dustin smile. 

“That’s how I feel about Suzie.” 

################

You lean against a tree as you gaze out at their realm. It really was gorgeous compared to the visions they had provided you with their memories of their time there. The sky still had a twinge of red but a dark blue hue was beginning to take over. The town below you seemed more put together and modern without the need to modify it so no one could storm in. 

Even the castle to your right had been updated and had less damage than previously seen. The door opened for you and without prompting, you wondered in, marveling at the décor. Entering a bedroom, you knew whose it was immediately as you had seen it many times before. This time, however, there was no body or blood on the floor. The room was neat and tidy with pictures everywhere. 

On the vanity mirror were photos of Chrissy, Steve, Eddie, and Robin making funny faces with a lake behind them. Another was her and her father dancing in formal dress at what you assumed was a ball. On her bed was a box you slowly moved toward, opening the lid to find pictures of her and Eddie kept hidden for the royal’s eyes. 

There were many photos of kisses exchanged, dates that were had, and hope for a future that never came.

“I wish I had put those up.” You quickly turned at the sound of Chrissy’s voice as she softly smiled at you. “He deserved to be seen.”

“I’m…I’m sorry for what happened to you…to both of you.”

“Honey, you cleared his name and captured Henry. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I’d actually like to help if I can.” She takes your hand and guides you towards the bed to sit beside you. “I’ve seen you with Eddie and Steve. I’ve never seen them as happy as they are now. It broke my heart watching them suffer for so long.”

Her beautiful, big eyes met yours.

“You’ve suffered to, haven’t you?”

“It’s alright—”

“No, it’s not. You three deserve to stay happy for as long as possible. Let me ask you something, Y/N. What do you know about demon slayers?”

Your eyes shot open as you gasped loudly, startling both demons from their sleep. 

“What?! What’s happening?!”

“Ed…Eddie…Chrissy…”

“Hey, hey, whoa, pretty girl. Breathe. Talk when you’re ready.”

As you calmed down, you told them about your dream and what Chrissy had told you. 

“I don’t get it. Do we need to die?”

“Steven, how did you get that out of what she just said?”, Eddie scolded. 

“What else do demon slayers do, Edward?”

“Didn’t your ex leave you for one?”, Dustin grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. “Maybe they would know.”

“What are you talking about? Demon slayers are human. He would have died long ago.”

“Yeah but he didn’t. Michael just visited them to celebrate their anniversary.”

Eddie fully sat up as he turned to face the young demon across from him. 

“AND YOU DIDN’T THINK THAT WAS ODD??”

“Geez, no, I didn’t. I have my own family to worry about on top of finding you two dickheads.”

Your demon’s exchanged a glance as the long-haired one rose to his feet and grabbed the boy’s arm. 

“You lost bed privileges. Go sleep… anywhere else.”

“Hey! Wha—”

He cut the boy off as he slammed the hotel door shut.

“Eddie, you didn’t have to—”

“Punishments are worse where we come from. He can sleep in the car.”, he growls as he runs his palms over his eyes. “What are you thinking, Steve?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin to look.” His current honey brown eyes flick towards you as he takes note of your facial expression. “Goddamn it. Are we still having this discussion, Y/N. We are NOT going home.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah but I can see it on your face. You think it would be easier for us to just let you go and go home.”

“I heard Dustin talk about what your home is like now. Maybe you two could be happy there.”

His large hand suddenly reached out to grab your throat as he pushed you back down flat against the mattress. 

“Listen up, little girl, because we are only going to say this one more time. Edward was right. The first time we thought we would lose you because Maeve was going to suck us back into that stone. The second time was because YOU made us believe that you would be taken in instead of us. This time WE get to make the choice and we are choosing to stay here with you. We are happier with you. We love you. We belong to you.”

Your breathing stuttered at his last sentence as his hand released its grip, gliding up to hold and caress your cheek with his thumb. 

“And you belong to us, honey.”

Tilting your head slightly, your lips crash up to meet his. The bed jostled as Eddie climbed in beside you, his hand softly running up your thigh before lifting your leg over his hip. A shiver ran up your spine as the demon’s fingers trailed back down along your flesh and rested on the cotton that was blocking your core.

Steve’s lips detach from your own as he leans over, snaking his hand behind the other man’s head, and tugs him into a rough kiss that had your pussy clenching at the sight. 

“I never saw you like that.”, he exhaled heavily. “I never thought of you as beneath me. Not as a commoner or peasant or whatever…even before… you’ve always just been Edward.”

Eddie rushed forward, bringing Steve’s mouth back to his as they passionately mingled together. Your own lips found its way down the metalhead’s neck making him groan while his fingers moved your panties to the side and began massaging circles against your clit. 

They panted as they moved away from each other, Eddie sucking on your own neck as Steve lifted up your nightshirt enough for your breasts to come into view and his mouth to wrap around your nipple. 

“Edward…please…”

Before he could acknowledge your pleas, Steve pushed him onto his back and hastily lifted off your shirt the rest of the way before doing the same with the other demon’s boxers. 

Eddie moaned as a glob of spit landed on the tip of his cock as Steve stroked and smeared it along his shaft. You both watched him with lust fueled eyes as he took him into his awaiting mouth while his free hand reach over to play with your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck me.”

“H-His mouth always feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck, yeah, it does. Wh-When we—mmm—when we were alone sometimes he would suck me off for what—shit—felt like hours.”

Continuing to pump him with his hand, Steve gives you his attention, shoving his face into your cunt. Your fingers intertwined with the demon next to you as the others long paranormal tongue lapped at your insides. 

“Yes, Steven! Please.”

Eddie’s free palm reached across his bare chest, landing on your tit as his fingers pinched and played with the erect bud. 

“I-I would cum so many times but I never wanted…never wanted him to stop. His mouth felt so good.”

Steve switched again driving you both wild as he built you two up. Eddie quickly sat up and brought the other demon’s lips to his, both whimpering as their tongues glided effortless against the other.

“I want to feel you, pretty boy. Come on. Make our beautiful girl cum hard, ok? She deserves it.”

Steve nodded, kissing along your skin as he climbed up the length of your body. Opening your legs wide, he lifts one of them over his shoulder, and his forehead falls on yours as he guides his cock into your entrance. 

“Fuuuuck, baby girl. Still so fucking tight.”, he moans, smirking when your breathy laugh hits his face. 

“I’m-I’m a little sore from last night.”

“Yeah? But you can take still take it, can’t you, honey? Mmm—you can still take all of me.”

“Yes.”, you pant as he begins slowly thrusting into you.

When you feel him pause, you shift your gaze to Eddie as he grabs the demon’s shoulder for leverage and gradually pushes into his ass. Biting your bottom lip, you watch as Steve struggles to control his appearance as he whimpers and groans at the feeling of you both. 

“Does that feel good, Steven?”

“S-So good. Fuck.”, he purrs as his hips start to thrust again. 

The demon behind him guides his motions, placing his palms on his waist as his moves him forward into you and back onto him. 

“You can—mmm—you can change if you want to.”

Steve adamantly shakes his head. 

“Too close. Hurt you.”, he manages to grunt out.

“You can hurt me a little.”, you tease making Eddie chuckle behind him as his face scrunches in pleasure. “I always want you guys to be yourselves as much as you can.”

A low growl rumbles from his chest as his pace quickens.

“It always fucking turns me on when you say stuff like that. That you aren’t afraid us.”

“I’m not, Steven.”

His jaw goes slack in a silent moan as he fully takes over pleasing you both. Tears fall from your eyes as he roughly but pleasantly hits that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling closed while he pushes back hard against Eddie taking him deeper into his body. 

“Shit…that’s it, Steven, baby.”, the metalhead grumbles through his teeth. 

“You’d fuck us fully in our demon form?”

“Yes, of course. I love you both—mmm—for you. I don’t care what you look like. Fuck, M’gonna…”

Dropping your leg, his body fell flat on yours, rolling his hips as Eddie thrust to meet his movements. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed obscenely loud in the small room while all three of your moans mixed in. Your nails dug into his back as you held him tightly to you, shuddering as you came hard.

“Fuck! G-Good girl. Soaking my cock like that.”

The demon behind him grabbed his throat as he pressed his chest into his back, pounding into him till Steve trembled against you and painted your walls with his release. Eddie grunted, yanking them both upright on their knees, and as he fell out of you, the long-haired boy reached around to continue stroking his length, milking him till his own orgasm followed.

Falling to your side, they panted as Steve’s fingers lazily turned your cheek to face him. 

“Are you…okay? I didn’t…cut you or hurt you…right?”

“I’m ok. You didn’t shift too much this time.”, you grin over at him as he smiles in return. 

“Come on, princess.”, Eddie coos as he crawls over to you and lifts you in his arms. “Before you start to smell.”

He chuckles when you lightly smack his chest while he carries you to the tiny hotel bathroom.

“Oh, this will be fun. Just like our showers in the dorms, huh, Stevie?”

It was a tight fit but you didn’t mind. Any chance you got at being close to them made you content. You kept your arms snuggled around either one of them, tenderly kissing their lips occasionally before pressing your face into their chest. 

“What would it be like? Sex with you fully in your demon form? The first night we were together, Steve said his dick was still him…”

After turning off the shower, Eddie guided you out of the shower and made you giggle as he shook a towel over your head. 

“He wasn’t wrong. Um, you know how human’s use condoms? Think of it like that.”

“Also, believe it or not, we’ve been holding back somewhat with you.” Your eyes widen playfully at Steve’s comment. “Oh yeah. You’ve seen Edward and I together. I mean, you saw our house in the stone. It wasn’t solely destroyed all the time because of me if you know what I’m saying.”

Your laugh gradually fades as they watch you slide your sleep shirt back over your head and climb under the covers. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

“So…we’re really doing this? We’re going to look for a way for me to be with you two forever?”

They both crawl in beside you like they did every single night before. 

“If that’s what you want, Y/N.”, Eddie answers as his fingers move some loose hair away from your cheek. “If you want to stay as you are, we’ll still be here, babe. Even when you’re old and gray, sitting on a rocker on your front porch.”

They smile when you laugh. 

“Did you see that in my future when you first met me?”

“We can’t see the futures for summoners, just the past.”, Steve explains. “But we don’t need to have powers or anything to see that if that’s a future you want then we’ll make it happen. As long as you’re happy, honey.”

“My mom died my freshman year of high school. I spent so many years watching my father miss her. Before he died, in my dream, I saw him reconnect with her and that comforts me, you know?” You place your palm on Eddie’s heart as Steve wraps his arm around your waist and rests his chin on your bicep just below your shoulder. “I’ve seen what it did to you. I don’t want either of you to experience that pain. I want us…to have as much time…as we can get.”

Softly smiling, he leans down and tenderly kisses your lips, letting you go long enough for Steve to do the same.

“Then, yes, princess. We’re doing this.”

############### Song Inspiration:

@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills

@prettypeachsworld

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steve fluff #demon!steddie #demon!Steve harrington #demon eddie munson #au fanfiction #steddie fic #steve x eddie #Spotify

[angelyuji]

yandere matthew murdock x reader

you and matt talk about his relationship with elektra!

tw abuse (physical and emotional), gaslighting, implied kidnapping, just shitty bf things

“do NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME.” matt slams you against the window of his apartment. you choke back a sob. you don’t even remember what started the argument, maybe something about elektra, but none of it matters anymore. you just want to go.

“i-i’m sorry.” you choke out, trying to stop yourself from breaking down.

“i get enough shit from foggy and karen about her. i don’t want to hear it from my own girlfriend.” matt sighs, letting go of you. you slide down and sit. “sweetheart,” he crouches down and cups your face, you try to move, but he holds you in place.

“m-matt, i’m sorry, okay? just g-give me a minute.” you hiccup. you try to remember what you had said to him, what set him off?

“you and elektra are just friends, right? nothing more?”

right. his ex. it's always about his ex. you had just asked about elektra. you knew their history, karen had told you about their on-and-off relationship. you knew you shouldn't have asked. you knew that matt would get mad, but your insecurities had gotten the best of you.

"god, (y/n), this? again?" you watch matt as he pours himself a glass of whiskey, rolling his eyes.

"yes, matt, that. again." you huff and pause the show you were watching. matt takes a seat on the couch and ignores you.

"i don't know why you're so obsessed with my relationship with elektra. i already told you that we're just friends." matt grabs your hand to pull you close to him, you wretch your hand out of his grasp.

matt grits his teeth and puts his feet up. "i know you're just friends, matt. i just want to make sure. karen told me-" matt scoffs.

"you believe karen over your boyfriend?" matt lets out a humorless chuckle.

"god, matt, karen told me about your history because you wouldn't tell me! you'd change the subject or just wave me off. so, i'm sorry if i pissed you off." you get up and matt follows suit. matt grabs your hand.

"no, no. you're not making me the bad guy in this." you try to pull your hand back, but matt's grip was tight.

"the bad guy? the bad guy? god, matt, all i wanted was for you to be honest about what your relationship with elektra was! you're always preaching about honesty to me and it's not fair that it doesn't go both ways!" you rub your temples, exhausted.

matt lets go of your hand, "fine. you want honesty, (y/n)? yeah, i fucked elektra, every single time i saw her. she was my everything. so, i kept going back to her, until you. elektra was dangerous, she was spontaneous, she was unstable. so, i choose the safe option. i choose you. does that make you happy? to hear all of this?" you feel your heart break.

"the...the safe option? i'm just your safe option?" your chest feels like it's being ripped open at matt's cruel confession. "do you... do you even like me, matt?" tears drip down your face and you turn to walk into the kitchen. "god, fuck you, matt. you always do this shit." matt grabs your arm.

"you do NOT get to walk away from me after this bullshit."

"oh! i thought i was just the safe option! i thought i was just a placeholder for elektra!" you push matt away, but matt pulls you back.

"do NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME."

"sweetheart?" matt whispers, watching you carefully. you look up to see him staring at you, concerned. "are you alright?"

"m-my back hurts." your back throbbed from the impact against the window. matt helps you up and sits you on the couch.

matt rubs your back as you sniffle, "sweetheart, none of this would've happened if you had just calmed down and talked to me." you let out a breath. matt stops rubbing your back and places his hand on your shoulder. you shrug it off. "(y/n)?"

you get up, "i don't think... i don't think this is working out." you lick your lips. "i think we should break up." he tilts his head up at you.

"what?" matt gets up. he takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. "don't be stupid, (y/n). this was just a stupid fight. we'll get through it."

"that's just it, matt. it's not just the fight. it's the fact that i will never measure up to elektra to you. it's the fact that you never even considered to be honest to me about how you still have fucking feelings for her!" you laugh, feeling stupid. your back aches and you just want to fucking leave.

"i don't like her like that, (y/n). you're acting insane. just calm down, get a drink of water." matt goes into the kitchen, you turn away.

"i'm packing my stuff and i'm leaving, matt. i just can't do this anymore." you walk towards the bedroom and hear matt sigh. for the first time since you both started dating, you feel relieved. like this weight you had been carrying had been lifted of your shoulders. you start packing your things into the overnight bag you had brought when you first stayed over.

"i feel bad for the next poor soul that dates him." you mumble.

"don't feel bad, sweetheart." you look up and matt stands at the door with a glass of water and his baton. "cause, you're not going anywhere."

#yandere matt murdock x reader #this was dumb lol #it's just been sitting in my drafts for so long that i wanted to get it out #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #like and reblog <3 #yandere fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #yandere marvel x reader #yandere matthew murdock #maybe #tw physical abuse #tw gaslighting #tw dark content #tw emotional abuse #shitty bf matt #smart reader #not smart enough unfortunately #marvel fanfiction #daredevil imagine #daredevil x reader #yandere daredevil #yandere matt #yandere marvel #lmk what yall think #i know its bad dw

[winchesterandpie]

Lovin' Feelin'

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x wife!reader

Word Count: 1573

Warnings: highly self-indulgent, really nothing that I can think of. Just fluff and messing with Hangman

A/N: I had this idea bouncing around in my head and then I saw @katiemcrae made a post asking for a fic with this song. As evidenced by this post, that was the last push I needed to make it happen. I'm debating doing a second part, so let me know if that's something y'all would be interested in. I had so much fun writing this! Thank you all again for the support on my other Rooster fics! Enjoy!

Lovin' Feelin' Masterpost

“You up for a bet, Rooster?”

Rooster looked up at Hangman from his set up at the pool table. “What did you have in mind?”

“Twenty bucks says you can’t get a girl’s number by the end of the night,” Hangman started, taking note of the other man nodding along and continued with a smirk. “without serenading her from the piano.”

Rooster bit back a grin, trying to keep Hangman from realizing something wasn’t as he expected. He looked over at the bar, under the pretense of surveying the bar, but really he was looking for you, his wife. 

He had forgotten until this bet came up that Hangman didn’t know you were married. Hangman didn’t even know you knew each other. Nor did the rest of the group of pilots, for that matter. Bradley preferred to keep you to himself, so he kept his wedding ring on a chain around his neck. You, in a sweet gesture, had gotten a matching set of delicate chains when he said he felt guilty for not wearing his ring.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Hangman was smugly unaware that Rooster had this bet in the bag.

“Without the piano?” he repeated indignantly.

“C’mon, Rooster, bet’s a bet.”

“I don’t know, it just… just doesn’t seem fair,” Rooster took a sip of his drink before continuing, watching you laugh at something Penny said to you, “to you, I mean.”

“You’ve got your eye on someone already?” Hangman laughed, following Rooster’s gaze to you. “ Good pick, I haven’t seen her around here before. How are you going to know the right moment to talk to her?”

“She’s lost that lovin’ feelin’.” Rooster was grinning, looking forward to your reaction.

“She’s lo-- No she hasn’t.” It took Hangman half a second to put together Rooster’s face, his claim, and the stories Maverick had told them all about his time in Top Gun.

“Yes, she has,” he said, enjoying this even more as he clapped a hand on Hangman’s shoulder.

“No, she has not lost that loving--”

“Hangman, she’s lost it.” With a last, teasing nod, Rooster started moving off.

“Rooster, come on.” He was already gone and Hangman sighed in resignation. “I hate it when she does that.”

Hangman didn’t know where Rooster found the microphone and he wasn’t about to ask. They approached, and Rooster tapped you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You turned, and nearly grinned when you saw your husband. The only thing that stopped you was the devilish glint in his eye. When you saw Hangman, you realized something was going on and were happy to take part in messing with him.

Hangman interposed himself between the two of you quickly, which confused you a little.

“Hey, hey, hey” he said to Rooster, waving him back like an out-of-line child before turning to you. “I’m sorry about him. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.” He turned back to Rooster, and you saw Penny grin from the corner of your eye as she handed someone their drink.

You didn’t miss the tap to Hangman’s shoulder and the way both men bent low. The microphone came from nowhere, and you heard rather than saw Maverick choke on his drink beside you.

“You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips,” Bradley sang, not breaking eye contact as he straightened, pointing at you.

“And there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips.” You were surprised when Hangman took over a line, both of them snapping with the beat as they leaned backward and forward. 

“You’re trying hard not to show it.” Bradley sang again. The other naval aviators started to gather, chuckling quietly before joining in on the next line.

“But baby,” everyone was joining in as Bradley serenaded you, “baby, I know it. You’ve lost that lovin’ feelin’, whoa that lovin’ feelin’.” 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you at how much your husband was playing into the song.

“You’ve lost that lovin’ feelin’, now it’s gone, gone, gone, whoa-oh.

Other aviators picked up the “bum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba dum dum dum” of the bass line  as you gestured for him to take the barstool next to you that Maverick conveniently vacated.

“Baby, baby, I get down on my knees for you,” someone else sang as they all moved away.

Maverick lingered, just long enough to say, “You sound a lot better than I did, kid.” He moved further down the bar, shaking his head good-naturedly at the pair of you. He, of course, had met you soon after he and Bradley reconciled.

“So what am I missing?” you asked Bradley, who was already beaming at you. 

“Hangman bet me twenty bucks I couldn’t get someone’s phone number. I figured that would buy us a couple of ice cream dates.” He took your hand, lifting it to his lips. 

“I like how you think, Bradshaw.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. You were quick on your feet, not giving me away, Bradshaw.” Bradley’s smile softened as he said your name, and you were reminded how good a decision it was to marry him.

“So, am I buying drinks?”

“For the show, they’re on me,” Penny said, sliding you two drinks.

“Ooh, Pen, you’re my favorite person.” You flashed her a wink as Bradley raised his eyebrows at you in playful shock.

“And what am I, chopped liver?”

You laughed, leaning closer to him and reaching for his hand. He crossed his arms, hiding his hands from your grasp petulantly.

“You’re my husband, so it would be unfair to include you in the general ranking of people.” He let you take his hand this time.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he allowed with a shrug. You basked in the warmth of his smile. Even after all your time together, he still could melt you with a single glance. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Can I borrow a pen?”

“What do you need one of those for, sweets?” Bradley looked genuinely confused, but he still reached over to the jar of them that Penny kept by the register.

“Well, I gotta give you my number, don’t I?”

“You’re right, I still have to get Hangman’s money.”

You hummed affirmatively as you uncapped the pen and turned his hand over. “It almost feels like stealing, but honestly I just want to see how long we can go before he figures it out.”

“I want to see how far we can take it.”

You finished writing your number, even though you knew good and well it was saved in his memory and in his phone already.

“As long as you don’t drive the poor man’s finances into the ground.”

“Anything for my little lady.”

“Great, now go get me my twenty bucks.”

“Your twenty bucks?” He egged you on, “I was the one doing the serenading.”

“That’s true,” you pretended to ponder for a moment, “but I’m the one who no longer has a ride home.”

“What do you mean? I’m your ride.”

“Exactly. If you still drive me home, they’ll figure it out that much faster.”

“Screw them, then. I only need Hangman to believe it long enough for me to cash in this bet.”

“I've got a better idea,” Maverick interjected, not even pretending he hadn’t been listening to some of your conversation. “You duck out now, Rooster goes and talks to Hangman then he calls it a night. They’ll probably stay for a while yet tonight.”

“You are a genius, Mav.”

“So I’ll see you out there?” You turned back to Bradley and downed the rest of your drink.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promised as you shoved his shoulder lightly. 

You leaned over from your seat to kiss his cheek before getting up and heading for the door. Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that overtook his face as he watched you leave. He got up and walked somewhat reluctantly over to Hangman and the rest of his friends.

“Ooh, you’ve got it bad for her,” Phoenix teased as he came closer. 

He didn’t deny it. He did, however, hold up his hand triumphantly to show off the number you had scrawled across his skin.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Hangman didn’t seem too put out by Rooster winning the bet. “Rooster’s got game after all.”

“Yeah, yeah, get it all out.”

“Nah, I’ll save it for my best man speech when you get married. I expect full credit for the start of your relationship.” The Texan pilot grinned, holding out a folded twenty dollar bill out.

Rooster laughed at that, imagining Hangman’s face when he finally found out. He knew, of course, that he could only reveal it once, and he wasn’t going to give it up just yet.

“Alright, I’ll at least give you credit for the backup vocals,” he bargained.

“We’ll work out the details when you get there. So, who am I setting up next?” Hangman turned his attention to the broader group. “Coyote? Fanboy?”

Bradley stayed a little longer, teasingly speculating about how to get dates for the others. He made his excuses, hoping he didn’t sound suspicious, then retreated quickly to the Bronco where you sat waiting.

“They don’t suspect a thing,” he whispered conspiratorially to you. He pressed a playful kiss to your lips, then another to your forehead. 

“We’re going to have so much fun with this.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster #top gun #top gun maverick

[cosmal]

YAYAYAY ON 1k!!! CAN I GET TULIPS — an almost kiss with best friend!steve while cleaning up his wounds from getting into a fight (either ending in fluff or angst🫶)

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

summary you're tired of steve showing up bruised and battered.

note thank u!!! I love the idea. I went with the angst ending I'm sorry

warnings/tags fem!reader, she/her pronouns, mentions of blood and cuts and bruises, angst

“Y/N, please don’t cry,” Steve’s voice is quiet and brushes over your palm where your hand holds a piece of gauze to his cheek.

You shake your head to will the beginnings of your tears away, screwing your face and sniffling. You don’t want to cry and you hate that he knows you’re about to.

You hold your breath to keep away a sob you can feel burning at the bottom of your throat. Your tongue feels thick and your head might hurt worse than his. Trying not to cry feels harder than actually crying.

Steve watches where your teeth pinch your bottom lip and your eyes blink rapidly, “God, okay, wait I’m sorry. Cry if you want to. You’re gonna pass out, baby.”

Only a choked whimper falls past your lips and then Steve is wincing when you tear the drying gauze away from his skin. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, throwing it into the pile of red-soaked tissues on the kitchen table.

You drop all the supplies in your hand into your lap and push the backs of your hands into your eyes until it burns. “I just,” you inhale quickly, “I can’t keep patching you up Steve. You need— you need to stop hurting yourself.”

Sure, you’re more than willing to clean Steve’s cut lips and bleeding noses. No, you were more than willing the first handful of times he was knocking on your door looking like death, on the precipice of passing out. You've changed his bloodied clothes and bandaged his cuts, even let him take your bed for the night.

The last time, you had told him that he was worrying you and he had promised you that he was going to be more careful. Stop throwing himself headfirst into danger and getting beat up by step-brothers. He had promised.

So, when he had shown up on your door again tonight with a split lip, black eye, and a bloodied nose, your first instinct was to punch him in the ribs yourself. You would’ve if he wasn’t in so much pain. But now that anger had just dwindled down into worry and fear.

“I know, Y/N.” You don't even think he's convinced himself. His voice is weak and trembles. An equal shaking hand comes to the seam of your pants and traces it absentmindedly.

"I honestly don't think you do," you laugh weakly. The sound comes out strained and wet, through new tears that burn the more you try to keep them at bay.

You don't know why you're trying so hard not to show Steve how upset you are. You're not sure if it's because it feels selfish - he's the one who's hurt and it shouldn't be you that's crying - or it's because it's scary to show him how much you do actually worry about him. How much it affects you in a way you don't think he'd understand.

"No, I do." He breathes in deeply, scratchy and rasped, and winces when his lip stretches. Another rivulet of fresh blood starts to trickle over his lips and down his chin. "It's not fair on you. I don't even know why I showed up, here again, tonight. It was stupid."

Unthinkingly, Steve roughly wipes the new blood away with the back of his hand. A smudge of red smears across his cheek and you remember yourself.

"No." You shake your head, picking a cloth back up, "No, Steve. Come to me when you’re hurt," you breathe, "It'd just be so, so much easier if you didn't have to come to me at all."

You wipe the excess blood from his dirtied cheek and then dab at the source of grievance. At this point in time, being gentle with him has lost all of its meaning. You really do want to be careful with him, wipe and prod with a caring hand. But then you catch that once caring hand shaking across his skin, remembering how angry it makes you feel, and you end up pressing too hard.

If Steve cares, he hardly ever shows it.

"I'm sorry," he sighs.

His voice truly hurts and your tears only worsen. You feel stupid for ever thinking you could hold your emotions back.

You dab and dab and dab, trying your best to clean him to your best abilities. Abilities that have only bettered over the years.

Steve can see your panic rising. Your eyes can't find a portion of his face to settle on and it seems neither can your twitching hands. He's sure his face is clean by now.

"Hey, Y/N, it's okay," Steve soothes, wrapping his hands around your wrist to pull your hand from his face. He smiles, "I'm okay."

You bite your tongue, nodding through a wet sniffle, "No, I'm sorry."

"Stop, don't be." he squeezes your wrist and your skin burns, "If I had to deal with me like you do, I'd be angry too." You want to say something in response, but his words ache. Like he knows how he is but doesn't change because he knows you'll be there for him like always.

His warm hands come up to your even warmer face, wiping the wetness from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in big, sweeping circles. If your wrist burned, your face feels like it's on fire. His palms are too hot and it feels like there'd be two big, red handprints across your cheeks.

Despite being battered and bruised, with smatters of blood still drying at his cuts, he still looks beautiful. You hate it.

You realise how close he is and he only feels like he's leaning in further. You think he might kiss you. You feel like you want him to. Like his lips would calm your anxiety and if you just closed your eyes and pressed your mouth to his, when you pulled away, he'd be back to normal.

Then you look down at his cut lip and you're remembering how upset you are with him. You turn your head towards his hand when he's mere centimetres from your face and you close your eyes.

"I think you should go home now, Steve," you murmur, breath fanning over his palm.

Your eyes open back up and you watch his brows pinch into a frown. He blinks quickly before he snaps his hands back from your face. Your skin tingles where his hands once were.

"Shit, yeah." Steve scrambles from his seat and almost sends it flying backwards, "Sorry. Uh- thank you for cleaning me up."

"S'okay." You can't find it in yourself to look up from where your eyes are trained in your lap.

All you can do is listen to where his feet slide against your linoleum floor as he moves to get his stuff. Murmuring things under his breath you can't really understand. You think it's best you can't.

He heads for the door and there's a fleeting moment when you think you should ask him to stay. Maybe even just get up from your seat and walk towards him until you think he gets the message. But your limbs feel heavy and your head feels worse.

You think you hear him stop in the doorway as the cool night breeze flows through the door and bites at your legs. Then the breeze stops when the door finally thumps shut and you look up to your entranceway.

You're not sure you're surprised, maybe even a little upset, when you find the spot empty. Steve long gone, probably on his way down your drive.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you

[aalyssah]

Bonnie & Clyde

Pairing: Stu Macher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Aftercare, Choking, Degradation, Guns, Hair Pulling, Humiliation, Killing, Spanking, Quickie, and Unprotected Sex. Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 2,048

Summary: Stu might be dating your sister, but he has much interest in you, but your sister is in the way.

A/N: Sorry the Summary sucked, I didn't know how to explain. Also, this story is really long, so Hope You Enjoy!

Tatum Riley.

It was always her.

You both might be sisters, but it sure didn't seem nor feel like it.

She was favored and it was pretty obvious by the way she was treated. She had amazing friends, good grades, perfect hair, and god her boyfriend was hot.

You were ashamed to admit it, but he was fine. You always try to ignore him because you wouldn't dare look at him, but most importantly, he would never look at you. 

You were just some nerd, who had good grades, and got buckled by almost everyone in the school. You know Tatum is embarrassed of you, and that hurts worse, then y'all's parents putting her first. 

You can't even remember the last time y'all ever hugged. Ever since middle school she was like that and you were getting tired of it. 

-

You walked to your English Class, head down, and quiet. You didn't want anything to do with anyone. As you sat in your seat you looked up and got a glimpse of Tatum and her friends staring at you, whispering. 

You sighed, knowing they were talking about you. "Hey nerd, you're gonna give me the answer to the test. Got it?" You nodded your head as Nick walked away, leaving you alone. Well, that's another thing you have to do this weekend.

The teacher came in and discussed a project that would be happening. "You and a partner are gonna come up with a skit. It's about emotions, how you feel. This will be presented in front of the class for a grade." 

People scoffed around the room while you were shaking. You never get along with anyone in your classes, better yet, you hate presenting. This wasn't gonna end well. "Oh, and I'm choosing your partners." Angered groans and mumbling was heard as everyone complained. 

She began reading off everyone's partners until she got to the last 4. "Randy and Tatum." Tatum's eyes bugged out her head when she heard her matching up with someone other than Stu. "Wait, then who's Stu with?" What the teacher said next, made you nervous. 

"Stu and Y/n." Your eyes grew wide, as you let out a sigh to calm yourself down. "Are you serious? Why does that loser get MY boyfriend?!" The teacher held a finger up, to quiet her down. "Tatum, you're gonna work with Randy unless you want to fail this project, and trust me when I say you can't afford another failing grade." 

Ooos echoed around the room as Tatum became quiet. You looked around the room, only to catch the eye of a smirking Stu. He was staring right at you. He winked, causing you to turn away.

 This wasn't gonna be good.

-

As soon as you reached home, you went upstairs. As you began pulling out your materials for the skit, you could hear the yelling of Tatum probably complaining to Mom and Dad. 

You started getting clothes for your shower, until a knock at your window came. When you opened your curtains you were shocked to see Stu sanding there. "You gonna keep staring, or let me in?" You quickly opened your window and looked around before letting him inside. 

"Stu, what are you-" Stu cut you off. "I'm here for the project." Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Why didn't you use the front door?" Stu only shrugged his shoulders. "We both know your sister, and god so help me if she found out I actually was here to see you." He had a fair point. 

You sighed and sat down. "Okay, so what emotion are we choosing?" Stu thought for a moment. "Anger." Okay, that's great. It's totally not like you show your anger. "Oh, shit!" Stu watched as you frantically went around your room to your laptop and pulled out paper and a pencil. 

What'cha doing?" Stu questioned, seeing you wrote answers on the paper. "Nick told me to give him the test answers from last week." 

Stu shook his head in shame. "Y/n, you don't have to do everything anyone says, y'know?" You paused, looking at him in the eyes. "You don't understand. I really do." You then continued writing, making Stu groan.  "Don't you ever get fed up? Don't you ever feel so angry at everyone, that it makes you wanna-" 

You looked at Stu with fear in your eyes. This wasn't the Stu you knew, this wasn't the Stu you saw as your sister's handsome boyfriend. "Don't you ever wanna- kill someone?" Your eyes grew big, as you scooted away from him. You were trying to get it at the door, but Stu caught in quickly. "Where do you think you're going?" He pulled out a knife, and held it to your side. 

You froze, staring right at him with fear in your eyes. "Awe, baby don't be scared. I know you don't like your family, and between you and me. I don't either." The confessions that Stu was saying had you shocked. "What do you mean? You're dating Tatum." 

Stu chuckled, playing with the knife in his hand. "I WAS dating her, but I found out a little secret." He traced the knife up your body, leaving you trembling under his touch. "She was seeing Randy behind my back." You couldn't believe it. Ew, Randy? "Randy?" 

Stu nodded his head. "Yup, caught em' fucking like animas in my bed! Y'know how I felt, Y/n?" You stayed silent "W-why didn’t you b-break up with her?" You could see the happiness in Stu's eyes at your question. "I'm so glad you asked that question! I stayed with her because I wanted you. I wanted to fuck as revenge." 

A blush came on your cheeks at the thought of fucking him. "I've always liked you, Y/n. From day one, I was after you, but your sister was in the way." You took in his works, feeling every single one of them as the truth. "I had to earn her trust in order to get to you, and now that I've got you, I'm never gonna let you." 

To say that he was scared was an understatement. Stu was sounding like a lunatic, and to be honest,it sounded kinda hot."Do you wanna be with me?" Without hesitation, you nodded your head. A smirk formed on Stu's lips. "I need you to prove your loyalty." You stood up straight, waiting for his instructions. 

"We're gonna kill your family, and run away together." Woah, okay, that was something you didn't expect. This man was gonna kill your family just for you. "B-but, my Mom and Dad-" You stopped talking, now wanting to think about it. "What about them? Yeah, they made you, but they sure as hell didn't raise you."

You listened as he gave you reasons why to kill them. "They pushed you aside and favored Tatum. They didn't care about your health, they didn't care about your grades, they only cared about themselves and Tatum." Anger formed in your body as Stu pointed out everything. You've never really thought about it until now. 

You were nothing, but dead weight to them.

You grabbed the knife from his hand. "I wanna do it." Stu laughed loudly, surprised that you were really gonna do it. "Alright, I'm gonna kill your Dad and you take your Mom." You stood there, before taking a deep breath. You were about to be a wanted criminal all because of this boy.

Fuck it.

You opened the door and made your way downstairs with Stu. Your Mom was cooking food for only 3 people, which you knew who it was for. You sneakily walked behind her and held the knife behind your back. "Hey, Mom." She groaned, turning around with attitude. 

"What do you want?" You only had a smile on your face as you slowly walked to her. "Oh, nothing. Did you make any food for me?"You got the classic answer. 'No.' You gave a little pout. "Oh well that's too bad, because this is gonna be the last meal you'll ever taste, other than blood." 

Your Mom confusingly turned around, but was only met with a knife. She let out an ear piercing scream, hands flailing in the air. You stabbed her in the throat, watching blood shoot out her mouth. All of a sudden, loud footsteps were heard and the booming voice of your Dad. "What the hell are you doing you whore?!" 

Your Dad attempted to pull you off of your Mom, but was stopped by a knife in his back. You looked behind him to see Stu. Together, you just brutally murdered your Mom and Dad, all with a smile on your face. "What's all that noise?!" You and Stu made eye contact when you heard  Tatum's annoying voice. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" 

She darted to the door, but wasn't quick enough, with Stu grabbing her and throwing her against the wall. "Oh no, you don't get to leave." She cried loudly, when Stu traced the bloodily knife over her face. You emerge from the kitchen, looking all worried for Tatum. "Y/n! Y/n! You gotta call 911! He's gonna kill us both." 

You stalked towards her, smiling. "Oh no, he's not gonna kill me. But we're gonna kill you." For once in your life , you saw real fear in Tatum's eyes. They were big, a clear glass forming around her pupils. "B-but we're sisters-" You stopped her quickly. "Oh are we now? Remember all the times I WASN'T your sister. And how embarrassed you were of me?" Tatum let out a little laugh. "I-I was just j-joking. Please!"

You shook your head, not giving in. You've gone this far, it's way too late now. "Y'know Stu, I think we should have a little fun before leaving." You suggested, looking at Stu with a seductive look in your eyes. Stu caught on fast, before going to the garage to get some rope. "Why me?" Tatum demanded an answer. 

She was so hurt, broken, and scared. "I don't know, ask Randy. Ask me. Hell, you don't wanna ask Stu." You chucked, wiping the blood on your shirt. Stu came back, and tied Tatum to a chair, ignoring the yells and pleads from her. When she was fully secured, he walked over to you and pulled you in for a kiss. 

You both kissed, sloppily, getting blood on each other, but you couldn't care less. You've been waiting for years to get a taste of him, and you couldn't believe it would be now. Especially in this situation. He was quick to strip your clothes off, cutting them with his knife. 

When all your clothes were off, leaving you in your panties, Stu stared at you with adoration. "You're so beautiful, baby." He praised, kneading your breast. "Fuck, you've got full breast. Bigger than Tatum's." He suckled on your nipples, playing with others with his finger. You moaned, head thrown back while scratching at his scalp. 

He soon switched to the other, giving it the same attention, while you started cutting his shirt and unbuckling his pants. He released your breast with a pop and came up to capture your lips again. He helped you with his clothing, stripping him down completely. 

You two pulled back you and smirked. "Look at that, Tatum. Look at how big he is. Can't believe you're giving this up." You dropped to your knees, taking him in your mouth in a flash. You didn't waste any time bobbing your head, taking him deep in your throat.

Stu dropped his knife on the ground, pushing your head deeper. "Look at that. She sucks dick better than you could ever imagine." Stu groaned, looking at Tatum. She looked so pathetic, sitting there, watching her sister give her (ex) boyfriend head.

Stu held your head, firmly in place, before thrusting his cock down your throat. Your jaw was wide, letting his cock slide in and out of your mouth with sloppy, nasty sounds. 

It took everything in him to pull you away from him. He put you on your knees in front of Tatum in doggy style facing her. "As much as I would like to eat this sweet cunt, we don't have long." You whined earning a slap in the ass. "Such a fuckin' slut." He cut your panties off, and threw them on Tatum's face.

"Smell your sisters sweet juices, while she gets slutted out by 'your man.'" He rubbed his tip through your folds before pushing in you completely. The stretch was a sweet burning sensation. When he bottomed out, he let out a groan. "Shit, I don't know how long I can last." 

He warned, before violently thrusting in you. His hips connected with your ass in seconds, while his balls slapped against your clit. You leaned loudly, smirking a Tatum. Her head was turned to the side, trying to ignore the dirty noises coming from you both.

Stu hammered into you like you were nothing, but his own personal fleshlight. Your head dropped down, feeling tired, but was yanked up. “Keep your eyes on her, baby. Don’t look away.” The sound of his soothing voice in your ear, while he fucked you deeply turned you on even more.

You clenched around him, earning a groan from his mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You laughed, pushing back on him, meeting his thrusts until he couldn’t take it. “C-cum on h-her!” Painfully, Stu pulled out, and stepped over Tatum and shot his cum on her. 

You sat laid on the floor, catching your breath while looking at her. She was covered in her ex-boyfriends cum. She sobbed loudly, knowing she was about to die. Stu took a moment and tucked himself back in his pants. You walked over to the drawer near the door and pulled out a gun. “WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” 

You smiled, and aimed at her. “Because sometimes we get tired of dealing with your shit.” Those were the last words heard before pulling the trigger, the loud shot being heard all over the neighborhood. You watched as her body went limp, blood oozing out her head. 

Stu instantly grabbed you and pulled you in for a kiss. “Come on, let’s go and have some more fun.” You both escaped out the back door, and ran near the woods. 

“We’ll be the next Bonnie & Clyde.”

#stu macher #stu matcher #stu macher smut #stu macher fluff #stu macher imagine #stu matcher imagine #stu macher x reader #stu matcher x reader #stu matcher x you #slasher smut #horror smut

[innytoes]

59. Do you need a hug? You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes.

I was telling my family about this the other day! It's so funny!

The driver didn't comment when Carrie all but threw her bag into the car before getting in. He didn't have to. Her mood said it all. She'd managed to keep a smile on her face as she saw the other girls off, their parents picking them up, or carpooling in Heather and Kayla's case because Heather's mom's car was in the garage.

The driver also didn't comment when she told him to take her to the diner, instead of straight home. Even though her dad always told him to take her straight home.

Well, it's not like her dad showed up, so he didn't get a say. He probably wasn't even home to scold her about being home late. And Julian knew that Carrie would buy him whatever he wanted from Starbucks Monday morning if he complied.

So off to the diner they went.

It wasn't fair, they worked so hard on their routine, and then all of a sudden stupid Double Trouble had to show up and blow everyone out of the water, and Andi Parker from Destiny Management had given her the brush off, and it wasn't fair. Julie hadn't sang a note in a year and then all of a sudden Flynn moved back to LA and she was fine again? Carrie hadn't been enough for her, but Double Trouble came out of nowhere and stole her spotlight at the spirit rally and now Eats and Beats and Julie's dad had been there when Carrie's dad hadn't even read the text message reminding him of her performance tonight.

All she wanted was a chocolate milkshake and some curly fries. Sure, she should probably order strawberry, since she was still in her Pink Candi wig, and what if someone took a picture of her? But she needed chocolate, and curly fries, and she needed them now.

"What do you mean there aren't any curly fries left?" she all but shouted at the stupid guy behind the counter with the flicky hair.

"We only have crinkle cut left," the guy shrugged. He wasn't even wearing the uniform correctly, with his stupid biceps and his lack of sleeves. Curly's diner always had long sleeved shirts with pretty shiny red buttons at the cuffs and the collar. They had ever since her dad took her here as a kid.

"This is Curly's Diner. It's known for its curly fries!" She resisted the urge to stomp her foot, but it was a close call.

"Do you need a hug?" The guy behind the counter asked, and Carrie knew he was being sarcastic, she invented the fake-sweet insult. But the question made her lip wobble all the same. Because yes, maybe she could. "You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes."

"Shut up and get me my damn milkshake," she choked out, except as she did, the tears she was holding back started to spill from her eyes.

"Oh no," the guy behind the counter said. "Oh no, don't cry. I'm sorry about the fries. I can try and put them in a circle or something, please don't cry."

"Fuck," Carrie said, dabbing angrily at her tears, trying to keep her mascara from running. "Never mind, I can't - I can't be seen like this." She threw twenty bucks at him, because someone had probably started on the milkshake already, and went to leave, when she noticed some girls near the exit whispering and pointing. One of them took out her phone.

Diner Guy seemed to notice too, because he ducked under the counter and grabbed her arm leading her into the back.

"What the hell Patterson?" a blonde guy with the manager's badge said.

"Come on, Alex, she's crying," Diner Guy said, and he threw some epic puppy eyes. "You know I panic when girls cry! Reggie! We need that chocolate milkshake stat!"

"I'm not crying," Carrie sniffled. A milkshake was pressed into her hand, with the signature curly straw and not one but two cherries on top.

"You looked like you could use a second one," the guy, Reggie, said, giving her a wink. She sullenly grabbed one of the bright red maraschino cherries and chewed it. They were her favourite, even though they were so bad for you. "Whatever happened, he's not worth it."

"I'm not crying over a guy," Carrie glared, even though maybe part of her was. It was just not a boyfriend kind of guy. "Not that I'm crying."

"Of course not," Patterson soothed. "But if you wanna talk about it, we can listen. And make you some fries. Even if they're not curly."

She sniffled, ready to tell him to buzz off, but somehow, the whole story spilled out. About her best friend who pushed her away even though she was hurting too. About how she tried to form her own group, but the other girls just treated it like a hobby, something they did on the side, when music and proving herself was all Carrie could think about. About how she wasn't sure her dad would even care if she made it big or not.

"I get it," Patterson said. She glared at him. As if some diner dude would understand the pressures of the music industry. "My parents never supported our band either. And getting your name out there is hard, let alone being noticed!"

"You're in a band?" she asked.

"Sunset Curve," came a shout from across the kitchen where the other guy was flipping burgers. "Tell your friends!"

Their conversation turned to music after that. Luke showed Carrie a recording of their last performance, which was good. Very 90s rock, but not in a bad way. She was a bit hesitant to show her own recording, but Patterson just gasped and called: "Yo Alex you gotta see this!"

The manager popped his head back into the kitchen. "I would but SOMEONE left the counter unattended," he scolded.

"Yeah, yeah," Patterson got up, moving back to the front so Alex could come to the back. He was super interested in her dance moves, and they had a great talk about choreography and dance. By the end of her milkshake, she was laughing at his story about the three of them trying to perfect the Dirty Dance lift.

Eventually, Luke popped back in to tell her the coast was clear and 'some dude in a tie is very worried we kidnapped you and are holding you hostage in the walk in freezer.' She checked her make-up in a stainless steel baking sheet Reggie helpfully held up for her, and then walked back out with her head held high.

"Keep the change," she said.

Maybe she should come to the diner more often. You know, just to see if they had curly fries.

#julie and the phantoms #carrie wilson #fanfic #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #how do you do the plot of jatp without the ghosts? #this was interesting to write #also this started out as 'carrie and luke' and then the other two himbos were like: um we come as a set #I wrote a thing

[howlingday]

was reminded of the soulmate stories again. here's a couple of phrases if you're interested in testing your skills

He is good at eating pickles and telling women about his emotional problems.

I honestly find her about as intimidating as a basket of kittens.

People generally approve of dogs eating cat food but not cats eating dog food.

The beach was crowded with snow leopards.

I'll have you know I've written over fifty novels

I never knew what hardship looked like until it started raining bowling balls.

There's a reason that roses have thorns.

Courage and stupidity are all I have.

Ah, shish... Here we go again...

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

"Your dad didn't train you at all?" Ruby asked before shoving her burger into her mouth.

"Nope." Jaune replied, stirring his ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise together. "Dad wasn't much good at anything. Kind of why Mom left him."

Ruby wiped her lips of grease and sauce. "Ouch. When did this happen?"

"Uh, shortly after my youngest sister was born." Jaune squeaked his straw as he tried to remember. "So about a year or so ago."

"Was he a bad husband?" Ruby asked, then flushed and waved her hands. "I'm so sorry for prying! You don't have to answer!"

"It's fine." Jaune chuckled. "Not so much bad as he is... unreliable. He would spend most of his nights at the bar after spending all day watching TV."

"Yeesh!" Ruby winced. "Was he good at anything?"

Jaune tapped his chin as he looked up. Then scratched his cheek as he look down. He crossed his arms and shut his eyes to think. Grumbling, he sighed and rested his elbows on the table with a sigh. His next words changed everything for the two friends.

"Not really." Jaune shook his head. "He's good at eating pickles and telling women his emotional problems, but not much else."

Ruby almost choked on her soda as she spat on her glowing hand. Those same words spiraled under now soaking napkins she used to clean herself.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She fervently wiped. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay!" Jaune chuckled as he helped wipe away the sticky syrup, unaware of the glowing words. His fingers briefly touched hers, and Ruby felt like she was on cloud nine. Jaune was confused, though. "Uh, are you okay, Ruby?"

"Yeah," she sighed, admiring her friend in a new light, "just perfect."

..................................................................................

"OH GOD, PLEASE NO!"

"Ooh!" Cardin winced at the strike made against his teammate. "Looks like Lark is out."

"Better luck next year, eh, Cardin?" Jaune chuckled.

"Screw you, Jaune." Cardin scoffed. "Don't forget that you're up against her next, so you better be ready to eat mud."

"I'm not too worried." Jaune shrugged. "She's been teaching me since we were kids. If anyone's gonna be a match for her, it might as well be me."

"And that ends the first round of the tournament!" The announcer called out into his microphone. "Let's give a round of applause for Sky Lark and Pyrrha Nikos!"

The crowd of the ren fair roared as the two combatants stood and bowed for the audience, before Lark limped off with the only real wound being to his pride.

"Just remember that I'm taking you down in the semis, so don't go disappointing me." Cardin jabbed his finger into Jaune's chest.

"Yeah, yeah." Jaune batted the offensive digit away. "I'll save you from big, bad Pyrrha Nikos."

"Is that what you really think of me?" The two knights turned to meet Pyrrha's smirking face at him. "Because if you'd like, I can show you big and bad."

"Save it for the ring, Pyrrha." Jaune chuckled. "Otherwise it'll be wasted when we go toe-to-toe."

"You think you can win this year?"

"I don't need to win. I just have to beat you."

"What is wrong with you?" Cardin asked. "I get that you guys are friends, but it's still jarring to me that you're smack-talking Pyrrha Nikos! You might as well be fighting a tiger!"

Jaune laughed. "I honestly find her about as intimidating as a box of kittens." Pyrrha heart thumped, as she felt a burning itch on her shield arm.

"Well then," Pyrrha stood taller with a dangerous grin, "I'll just have to earn my stripes, won't I?" She then swiftly turned on her heel to exit.

"...Did she just reference a cereal mascot?" Jaune asked.

"DID I JUST REFERENCE A CEREAL MASCOT?!" Pyrrha screamed into her cestuses.

..................................................................................

"Are you sure he's okay?" Nora asked in a worried tone as her cat was gently pulled and moved this way and that.

Ren was always a lazy feline, but lately, he seemed more lethargic than before. He barely moved for his food, his toys lay unplayed with for weeks, and his scratching post looked brand new! Nora rubbed her hands, fearing the worst.

"Give it to me straight, doc!" Nora shouted. "Is it feline leukemia? Kuru? C.E.M.?!"

"In order, no, he's perfectly healthy. No, because that's a human condition from cannibalism. And no, because that's a sexually transmitted infection for horses." Jaune scratched Ren's ear, receiving a purr in response.

"Then what's wrong with him, then?" Nora asked.

"Hm, well, there's nothing physically wrong with him." Jaune scratched his chin. "How has he been emotionally? Any sudden changes at home?"

"Not really." Nora rubbed her hands. "I mean, I bought new cat food that he really likes, but then when my friend Emerald brought her cat, she said that the food I had was about as good as dog food." She gasped. "Is that it?! Do you think he's self-conscious about himself? Is that why he's eating less?!"

"Hm, could be." Jaune pet along Ren's side. "What kind of brand is it?"

"It's Pup-Step, Healthy Hair Blend." Nora answered.

"The dog food brand for puppies?"

"Y-Yeah." Nora scratched her head. "It looked a lot like what I normally get, so I figured I'd stick with what I got."

"Uh-huh." Jaune pulled his hand away, to which Ren began grooming himself. "Well, there's nothing to suggest dog food is nutritionally bad for cats, or at least when comparing puppies to full grown cats. But it could be more filling for Ren, meaning he's less likely to move around as much. I'd suggest sticking to your usual brand for now."

"So he's not self-conscious about what Em said?" Nora asked.

Jaune shrugged. "I mean, people generally approve of dogs eating cat food, but not cats eating dog food. With that in mind, though, I think it would be best to feed animals what they're meant to be fed."

As Jaune was looking away to write in his medical book thingie, Nora felt her heart jump almost through her chest. She quietly leaned down and peeled open her sock, where blue letters danced across her foot. She brought herself face to face with Ren, who was sitting quietly in the office.

"Everything okay, Nora?" She stood straight, her face lightly flushed from the surprise he gave her. "You were staring pretty hard at Ren."

"Uh, y-yeah, I, uh, just had a lot to think about when I get home." She lied smoothly.

"Well, if you'd like, I can take the dog food off your hands. I can swing by your apartment to pick it up."

"Yeah." Nora nodded, an idea brewing in her head. "I think I can work with that."

..................................................................................

"So how long have you been here?" Jaune asked the woman.

"Too long." She replied, staring into the fire she made. "Long enough to lose track of time."

"Do you remember what brought you here?"

She nodded. She prodded the ash, stirring ember and dust into the air. With amber eyes shut, she deeply inhaled through her nose, before letting out a long exhale from her lips.

"There was a plane." She said. "We were on a cargo run for the Schnee Dust Company. The next thing I knew was being riddled with bullet holes, and watching three people die from gunshot and fire. I held on for dear life to... something. It might have been a dust crate, or one of the ration containers on board, but when everything went loud and black, I passed out."

She stood up, walking past Jaune to the mouth of the cave. The storm still raged with wind and rain and thunder. She pointed out to the mountain on the opposite side of the island. Jaune immediately understood.

"So you crashed that mountain?" Jaune rhetorically asked. "And you somehow made your way over here?"

"Mm." She nodded, returning to her seat by the fire. "I nearly died on my first night." She turned and removed her coat, revealing her back to him.

He blushed, and moved his hand to cover his eyes, but stopped at his mouth. The beautiful woman's back was scarred with deep cuts, the deepest set just barely missing her spine. His other hand moved out to touch it, but was swiftly caught and held to himself. She returned her coat to her back, tossing her raven-black hair out of the coat.

"The white leopards," she said as she turned around, "they're all vicious killers."

"Snow leopards." Jaune nodded.

"Did you see them?" She asked. "When you crashed?"

"I was shipwrecked and had to swim to the island." Jaune chuckled. "So yeah, the beach was crowded with snow leopards. Absolutely lousy with-"

A thunderous boom caused Jaune to jump and turn to the storm outside. As he turned to the cave, Kali removed her coat, feeling a warmth along her back. As she turned, she saw the words, those fated words shining over her scar from the white leopard.

"Um, Kali?" She turned to see him blushing and looking away. "What are you doing?"

With a smile, she loosed her coat fully, exposing herself to the man on the other side of the fire. She felt a wind blow from the storm, as if the island itself was trying to stop her. But it was futile, as she felt her heard thunder in her excitement with a tremendum that rivaled the beasts of the of her shared home. Since her arrival of fire and blood, Kali finally understood her role, her purpose for being here; she was the queen, the apex predator of the mountains, the jungle, the seas, and the island.

And she was hungry.

..................................................................................

"I refuse."

"Willow, please-"

"Do not 'Willow, please' me, Jacques," the snow-haired woman glared at the stringy gentleman next to her, "I refuse to allow my good name to be dragged through the mud simply to appease the more simple-minded masses."

Jaune sat there with a scowl as his publisher and the 'Marquess of Mystery,' as she was so often praised, discussed and debated over his potential big break as comic book writer. Jacques Gele, of Bittersweet Publishings, had the brilliant idea to illustrate his ex-wife's mystery novels into a graphic novel. What he failed to mention, however, was how bitter the divorce had left her, as she held no warm feelings for him, or anyone associated with the name Gele attached to it.

"If I could interrupt," Jaune suddenly spoke up, silencing the bickering former couple, "because I think this conversation is going nowhere."

"Agreed." Willow nodded. "I suggest we end this farce, and you go back to your toy store."

"Woah! That's not fair!" Jaune held up his hands. "We're both well-known authors."

"Hardly." Willow scoffed. "I craft pulse-racing tales of intrigue and wit. You scribble inside bubbles for children to understand."

Jaune could have been angry. He should have been angry. This woman had just insulted his dream job, looking down upon him and his craft. But he didn't, and chose to switch tactics instead.

"I guess you're right." Jaune sighed, earning a smirk from Willow. "You author countless novels, and I write for comic books. Or, well, I wrote for comic books. Now, I author my own graphic novels."

"Simply another name for the same craft."

"Not quite." Jaune held up a finger. "While it is true that both are illustrated, the key difference is that a graphic novel is it's own intellectual property, and don't belong to larger companies, like Amaze or Black Bull."

"Oh, and you believe that simply because you wrote a few of these so-called 'graphic novel masterpieces' in your time?"

"Hey, I'll have you know I've written over fifty novels, and while I'm not on your level of skill, I'm still owed some respect."

Willow quirked her brow at that. "Is that so?" She lifted her right hand, as though she were checking her fingernails, but in truth was glancing at the shining ring of words glittering around her palm. Something that Jacques had failed to do in the time since she met her. "Then perhaps we should discuss this further, in a more casual environment?"

"A more casual environment?" Jaune repeated.

"Yes." She nodded. "This office is so stuffy, it makes it difficult to think. If you would like, I'd be willing to discuss this further this afternoon. Say, three, at the the Café Rosita?"

"Uh, sure." Jaune turned to Jacques. "Does that work for you?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot attend." Jacques stood with a sigh. "I have a meeting with another client then. I have all the documents, so don't worry about signing anything. Just... good luck, Mr. Arc."

Before the conversation could continue further, Jacques left the office, leaving an incredibly confused client. Jaune then stood and nodded to Willow. "Uh, see you at three."

"At Café Rosita."

"Café Rosita," Jaune nodded, "it's a date."

..................................................................................

This was probably the worst field day in the history of, well, ever. Jaune and his fellow instructors were so focused on their games that they never noticed Nora stealing equipment from different courses to make Olympus Mount, the most grueling obstacle course in the shape of a mountain. How she managed to build this monstrosity within so little time would be impressive if not for it's swaying structure threatening to topple over everything onto everyone.

"Jaune," Yang jogged up to him, "we just did a head count."

"Is everyone here?" He asked.

"No. Well, yeah, every student is here."

"Who's not here?"

"Ruby, my sister." Yang rubbed her arms. "I'm really starting to worry about her." She then groaned. "I knew she shouldn't have been an aide."

"Easy, easy..." Jaune patted the air. "Just take a deep breath. She's smart, so she's probably inside, using the restroom, or she went out to her bike, or-"

"HI, YANG!"

"-or she's on giant death mountain."

"RUBY! GET DOWN FROM THERE!" Ruby shouted from the peak.

"LOOK! I WON THE MOUNTAIN GAME!" She waved a red flag over her head. "NORA OWES ME A HUNDRED LIEN!"

All eyes glared to Nora, who sheepishly scratched the back of her head. "Uh, to be fair," she nervously chuckled, "I would have climbed it myself, but Ren needed help with one of the courses." Ren simply shook his head.

A strong gust of wind blew, making the mountain sway especially hard. It was coming down soon. Ruby squeaked as she ducked low, close to the mountain surface, made of plywood.

"It's going to collapse!" Yang shouted. "We need to call the police, or the fire department, or the militia, or-"

"Call the hospital in case something does go wrong." Jaune said, grabbing Yang's shoulders, bringing her back to reality. "I'll climb up there and try to bring Ruby down safely."

"But you-"

"I'm the only one here with mountain climbing experience." Jaune said, stepping away.

"It was an indoor rock wall!" Yang argued.

A cloud passed over, then broke away to cast the sun's light onto Jaune. With a serious and determined face, he looked like an action hero... in an orange safety vest. "And I'm the best damn shot we've got."

Jaune ran up to the mountain and found his footing on some bowling pins and traffic cones. Climbing over the ledge, the plywood until his hands feet wobbled, but remained steady. He followed the path of deflated balls up the incline until he reached lacrosse and hockey sticks forming a bridge, tied together with weighted ropes.

The mountain shook again, and debris began to fall from above. Covering his head, he ran up the path as pieces of sports equipment, from football mats to hockey masks to even bowling balls fell towards him. One bowling ball smashed his wrist, but he powered through. He could feel the injury start to swell already.

One final climbing challenge. It would be hard with only one hand, but he had to reach the summit. Yang was counting on him. Ruby was counting on him! With his elbow, he replaced the use of his hand by digging into the soft wall as leverage. He nearly reached the summit when his fingers slipped and he began to fall backwards!

A pair of delicate hands grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him to the peak. Ruby panted as she fell on her butt. The tower swayed over and over, to and fro, until it finally settled for a brief moment.

"How do we get down?" Ruby asked. "Unless you have some kind of landing strategy planned."

Jaune looked around, hoping to find a miracle. Sonething colorfull caught his eye from under the plywood board. Pulling it free with one hand, he grinned.

"Well, I wouldn't say it was planned, but..."

The wind picked up again, and the world began to shift. Gravity was slowly becoming apparent, as much of the foundation began to crumble. Holding up the colorful fabric, he looked to Ruby.

"I need you to grab two end of this." He explained. "I'll grab one and hold onto you with my free arm." She nodded, gripping two sides with as wide arms as she could. Jaune grabbed an edge and hugged her slim body to his. "Ready?"

Ruby shook her head.

"Me neither." Jaune ran towards the edge and jumped, hurtling towards the ground at not nearly as slow as he expected. Still, it was slow enough for them to descend safely, and he rolled them into the parachute. Crawling free, they watched as Olympus Mount came crashing down, in their opposite direction.

"Holy crap..." Ruby breathed.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" Nora cheered, appearing right in front of them. "So, what would you rate that? Five stars?" Ren grabbed her collar and dragged her away. "What? Too soon?"

"Ruby!" Yang hugged her sister. "I'm so glad you're alright!"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Yang." Ruby sighed.

"Are you sure?" Yang asked, reached her hands to rest on her younger sister's cheeks. "No broken bones?"

"No, I'm completely fine."

"Good." Yang squeezed the cheeks with her index and ring fingers and thumb, growling. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, CLIMBING UP THAT DEATH TRAP?!"

"OWOWOWOWOW!" Ruby whined. "I'M SHORRY, YENG! I WANTED TO PROVE I COULD DO IT TO NORA! SHE SAID IT WASH TOO HARD!"

"Well, to be fair," Jaune chuckled. "That was pretty fun, despite the impending collapse." He sighed. "I never knew what hardship was until it started raining bowling balls."

Yang released her sister, and covered her stomach, which seemed to be glowing for a moment. With her fist, she coughed her way out of explaining anything. "Even so, that was a stupid thing to get into. I'm glad you're okay, Ruby, but I will have to tell the head honchos about all this."

"Aw, man..."

"You can go tell your side of the story." She jutted a thumb towards Jaune. "I'll keep an eye on Mister Hero here."

"Okay, Yang." She ran off.

"That was dumb, by the way." Yang said.

"Eh," Jaune shrugged, "not much else I could have done."

"Sure." She held out a hand. "Let's take you to the nurse's office. Might need to get some heat on that wrist."

..................................................................................

"Are you enjoying the evening, Mr. Arc?" The woman crooned in her silken dress, a fiery red marked with golden flames crawling up in a pattern that made them dance with every step.

"I am." Jaune answered honestly. Sure, he was deep in enemy territory, a casino ruled over by a malevolent shadow figure known as the Black Queen, and one wrong step would end with him dying a horrible, painful death shortly after. But hey, free soda, right?

"That's good." The woman smiled, much like a serpent before striking a hapless rabbit. "Would you care to play a game? Craps?"

"No, thank you. I already went."

"Atlas Hold 'Em?"

"I don't trust Atlas with much of anything, sorry."

"Spades?"

"Uh, Clubs? Hearts? Diamonds?" Jaune Arc was a secret agent for his wit, not his charm, but even that failed him at times."

"What game would you play then?" She raised a brow. "Surely you haven't been here for so long and only played on the slot machine?"

"Of course not!" He laughed, not revealing that he was actually at the bar, waiting for his root beer vanilla cream swirl. Apparently they didn't think to serve non-alcoholic cocktails, so it took a while for his drink to arrive. "But if you had a board, I'd be willing to play a game of cribbage."

"Cribbage?" The woman balked with genuine surprise. "I didn't think there was a soul alive who still plays such a game."

"Well, this is an isolated casino," Jaune then openly mused, "deep in the jungles of Mistral and not near the coasts of Menagerie."

"As it so happens, there is a cribbage board, but it's not open to just any players."

"Oh, and how do I get to such a board?"

She chuckled. "Come to my room at ten tonight, and I'd be willing to show you~."

"T-Ten tonight?" Jaune gulped. "Uh, I mean, b-but that's so soon, and I'd like to attend some of these tables."

"Oh, the tables will still be here," she traced a finger along his throat, "but it would be rude to deny a lady's invitation." She turned away, a sway to her hips as she sauntered a few feet. "Shall we?"

"Uh, y-yeah, just, uh, let me use the can."

Minutes later, Jaune was in the restroom, checking the stalls before pulling the ear microphone from his collar. On the other end, Goodwitch scolded him.

"I'm sorry! I panicked!" Jaune whimpered as Goodwitch growled obscenities, reminding him to not blow his cover.

"She already knew my name, and now she's inviting me up for cribbage. "Dialogue on the other end followed. "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY CRIBBAGE!" More scolding followed.

"I don't know! Blake and I were talking about it, and I got it stuck in my head." He sighed. "So I guess I gotta lose at cribbage, huh?"

A different voice spoke up. "Really? You'll help me out, Blake?!" The voice continued. "Yes, I'll buy you a board. How much would it cost?" A brief description followed then. "HOW MUCH?!"

"Mr. Arc?" A voice called. "Are you still interested in our game?"

"Uh, y-yeah, sure!" Jaune called back, hiding his microphone in his collar, heading out. The woman met him outside, as lovely as ever. "Sorry, I, uh, had some bad soda."

She giggled. "Oh, Mister Arc," she crooned, emphasizing his title, "so uncouth. Perhaps you should save your sailor tongue for our game?"

"Perhaps I shall." Jaune chuckled, following her into the dimly lit room.

"FUCKING SHIT!" The woman cursed as Jaune placed his peg in the final hole once more. She composed herself once more, though flaring from her nostrils a great deal. With gritted teeth, she praised him. "I guess it's not surprising for a man as yourself to be skilled at a game so few play."

"It's more luck than anything." Jaune chuckled. "Fifteens, thirty-ones, pairs, flushes, and runs. I guess if the cards like you, they really like you."

"Oh?" The woman smiled. "Then I suppose my cards really do like you, don't they?"

Jaune glanced at the deck he sloppily shuffled. In the dimly lit room, outshined by the casino strip lights outside, he admired the rosebush deck. Bleeding hearts and ensnared diamonds seemed to glisten and shine along with the unperturbed spades and scored clubs.

He dealt the cards between them, one for one until both had six cards in their hand. Being his crib, Jaune carefully looked over his hand. King, Queen, Jack, Ten, Ace, Nine. All one suit. His hand was too good, and it made the decision difficult for him as a new player.

"Of course," he chuckled, "there's a reason that roses have thorns."

The cribbage board crashed to the floor as pegs flew through the air. Jaune was suddenly pinned under the beautiful woman, who he could now see was wearing an eye-patch, emblazoned with mark of the Black Queen's organization, GRIMM.

"You think you're so clever," she growled, "waltzing into a lion's den, and prodding the beast like it's a game..."

"Actually, I-" Jaune's words died as his lips were smothered and invaded by the sinister woman's own. A faint glow behind her eye patch served only to raise further questions. Now, here he was, pinned beneath the no doubt evil woman as she continued to unbutton his disguise.

"Get this stupid thing out of here!" She tossed the microphone aside, catching her pize between her teeth, nibbling on his neck.

"A-Ah! Easy, uh..." Jaune blinked. "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

"Cinder Fall," she answered, removing her dress, "and you'd best remember it, because I intend to make you scream it until I'm satisfied."

Jaune gulped. "Y-Yes, Miss Fall." A thought occurred to him. "Uh, won't your boss be looking for you?"

"Perhaps, but I am privy to my privacy, and any of her plans rely on my attendance."

"Oh, okay." Jaune nodded. "So now what?"

"Now?" She ripped off his shirt. "Now you show me how you sailors really peg."

"Uh, okay," he then spoke loudly, "I HOPE NO ONE CATCHES US!"

"Oh, believe me, no one will." She smirked, removing the last of her clothing. "Now lose the pants and get over here!"

"Of course, Cinder." Jaune smiled. For his first solo mission as a secret agent, he'd say he didn't do too bad. He neutralized an enemy combatant, gave the codeword to send in the ground troops, potentially stopped the end of the world, AND he was going to get laid! A plus, definitely!

..................................................................................

Space... When Jaune was a little boy, just a wee lad bouncing on his father's knee, he used to gaze at darkened sky. At the moon, and the stars, and wish for the night to never end. Just so he could marvel at all the vast beauty of the blanket overhead.

And then he joined the Star Brigade, and everything sucked forever. When he applied for the military, they had a "special offer" for anyone who joined the Star Brigade, the newest branch of warriors for defending humanity from the scourge of the Grimm menace.

That "special offer," by the way, was an extra fifty lien in his paycheck, which was then rescinded five years later. Now, here he stood, Leading Star Soldier of his own Star Squad. "That's awesome!" said his five year old nephew. He loved the little guy, but sometimes even his love didn't cover how lame it sounded.

But what does that have to do with his current predicament on the moon? Yeah, you know? The shattered moon that hangs in the sky overhead? The one that opens and shuts more than... uh, something, something, somebody's mom's legs? Yeah, that moon.

And Jaune was the point man on this mission "vital to humanity" by attacking a rogue Grimm hive in some hole of a cave on the moon. That meant he was in front of everyone in his squad. He was the only thing standing between himself, and his closest friends of the past three years. They back him in everything.

Including his retreat, which they took a headstart for on the sight of something bigger than a Moon Beowolf. That's a Beowolf on the Moon, if you couldn't figure that out. So Jaune was left alone, armed with little more than his hard-light shield, plasma sword, and titanium-iron knife. He was armed, ready, and trained for this.

And he got tangled up by a Moon Seer. That's a Seer on- Ah, you can figure it out.

He thrashed against the tendrils, but they seemed to be squeezing tighter and tighter, and tighter still. It was trying to choke him! Or, at least, that's what it seemed until he fell the floor slam into his side. Apparently, it just pulled it closer until it decided to drop him, the start the whole process all over again.

The light from his helmet buzzed as he looked around the cave. As he drifted deeper and deeper into the cave, he wondered where he was being taken. The Grimm he met along the way simply retreated to shadows. How deep was he being taken? His oxygen pack would run out eventually. Fear started to grip his heart as he cautiously glanced at his HUD, then gasped as he saw the O2 level shifted! ...From 88% to 87%. Then the Moon Seer dripped him again.

"ARE YOU DONE?!" Jaune roared.

"Yes, they are." He felt the tendrils retract from his form, then slipped back into the darkness. Everything around him was dark, with no walls to catch or reflect the light back to him. The floor was also dark, yet slick with tar-like ichor that clung to his suit and his boots. He searched for the source of the voice, but found none. A drip from above caught his attention, and he followed it to it's source high above, where a pale-faced woman watched from the ceiling.

Her red eyes glared down as black vines writed over her cheeks and from her eyes, where the black ooze fell to the floor. It seemed to be spreading, like fungus, except when a fungus grows another fungus, the other fungi don't slither and crawl from where it grew to make room.

"You have trespassed on Grimm lands." The voice echoed, yet was clear. This thing definitely chose the right place for acoustics. A band would make a killing playing here, but it seemed the only killing to be made was him at the claws of the Grimm. "State your reason."

"The extermination of the Grimm." Jaune answered, as boldly as he could muster. A deep thrum reverbed through the cave. He couldn't tell if she was humming or if that was how she laughed. Either way, he was in danger.

"You cannot exterminate the Grimm anymore than you can exterminate a cancer, mortal."

"I mean, if you catch early enough, then maybe..." Jaune reasoned.

"The Grimm have existed for thousands of years, since the dawn of man," the woman argued, "and it has been so long since."

"Are you... the first Grimm?"

"No." She replied plainly. "But I was there when the first arrived."

"Wow..." Jaune huffed in awe. "So you're super old, huh?"

"Rude." The face replied.

A click behind him made Jaune jump away, his legs straining to be free as he pushed himself. He turned to the sound of the disturbance. Not far from where he stood was a woman, cloaked in the black tar, as blood-red lines accented her figure, and drawing his attention to the subtle curves. He glanced up and could only find darkness hanging high above. His gaze returned to the woman, but she was gone.

He drew his plasma sword and activated his hard-light shield. This unknown entity, be it woman or Grimm or something far more sinister was dangerous on a level Jaune could only dream of. He heard another click, and swung behind him, missing her as she dove into the oily floor.

"Folly, human. Folly." The voice echoed from everywhere. "Your actions speak well of your boundless bravery, but your tongue echoes ceaseless fathoms of idiocy."

"What can I see?" Jaune barked in return. "Courage and stupidity are all I have!"

The air was still and tense. Had he made a fatal error in challenging the darkness? He checked his HUD. O2 at 70%. He took a breath to calm himself.

O2 at 40%?! He suddenly felt a weight pull from his rear, threatening to tear him off his balance. But he held firm, willing himself forward. With a loud hiss, he was free.

With a loud hiss, and blaring sirens, Jaune's oxygen had been depleted. He fell to his knees as his body ached. His vision blurred and dimmed, but he saw a form slowly approaching as his vision, and his life faded. A set of black letters etched over the reaching palm.

He then felt a warm on his body, uneven, yet warmer than he had ever felt in his suit. He found his arm, his only body, lighter as he reached to touch the warm. It was a softness. A softness so pure he had no words to describe it. It was then the warmth moved to smother him.

"Have you finally awakened?"

Jaune opened his eyes slowly to find himself in a brighter room than the one before. The walls were clearer and ceiling, and the ground softer. He turned his head and found the woman from before, her entire form now pale as ivory and lain over his chest. A chest, too, now so pale.

"Where...?" He groaned.

"Home." The voice spoke. "You are home, my king." She pressed her lips to his, flooding his mind with an ecstasy he couldn't words.

The Grimm. The Star Brigade. All of it now what feels like ages ago. For now, there was only one thought on the Grimm King's mind.

How was he going to explain this to Mom?

#rwby #rwby au #rwby soul mate au #jaune arc #ruby rose #lancaster #pyrrha nikos #arkos #cardin winchester #lie ren #nora valkyrie #nora's arc #kali belladonna #cougar #jacques schnee #willow schnee #willow's knight #yang xiao long #dragonslayer #cinder fall #arcfall #knightfall #glynda goodwitch #blake belladonna #salem #grimm knight #death knight #Jaune's soulmate

[sweetsweetjellybean]

In the cold November rain Part 4

Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Steve Harrington/Fem!Reader Ao3

TW: Story runs congruent to events in the show. If you know what happens in season 4, then you'll know how this will end.*Be warned.* 18+ Eventually Smut, Angst, High School Fuckery, Drinking, Drugs Let me know if I miss any.

Can you have two great loves in a lifetime?

You've had the ideal childhood in Hawkins with your best friend & protector Steve Harrington. When it's ripped away, can you pick up the pieces? Eddie Munson may be able to help. 

Part 4/12? Masterlist

Sincerest & Eternal Thanks To @loveshotzz A magnificent writer & phenomenal human who sparked my Eddie love. I never would have posted this without her.

Inspired by @loveshotzz & notes by @eddieandbird

That's how you wound up back in the band room. Steve broke your heart and thanks to Carol, the entire school knew. A good portion is likely celebrating your fall from grace. You skip the rest of your morning classes, hiding from everyone, you slide down the cinder block wall behind the balcony set from Romeo and Juliet. Sitting on the cold floor with your knees pulled up to your chest, crying, mourning the loss of your entire world. When you lose one friend, it hurts. When you lose all your friends in a single day, it's devastating. But losing Steve ripped you apart. You’ve never felt so alone. Life without him was never a possibility you had considered. You didn't know who you were without him.

"Of course," you say as Eddie Munson slides down the wall beside you.

"I'm happy to see you too, Princess."

"Are you here to gloat? I'm glad my life-ending circumstances can be a source of amusement for you."

"Don't take your shit out on me. I'm not here to be anyone's punching bag." Eddie warns.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. You're the only one left that will talk to me."

"That's the spirit, Princess. Put me in my place. Make sure I know I'm your last resort." He sets his lunch box on his lap and pops it open.

"God, I really am awful, aren't I?" You rest your head against the wall.

"Eh, you're not so bad." He keeps his eyes on the joint he's rolling. "But this is becoming a habit. Twice is my limit for damsels in distress. If I see you crying again, I might have to do something stupid like kiss you."

"Stop trying to make me feel better." You say, looking at him. "I'm trying to be sad here."

He lights up and inhales. "I'm ready. Tell me the real story. I've heard the rumors."

"You don't believe Jackie?" He laughs and chokes on his smoke.

"Fuck no. I might be dumb, but I'm not a fool."

"I don't think you're either." You give him a little smile. He's watching your face now. It's almost unnerving. It's as if he can see more than you willingly reveal.

"I hope his dick falls off." You turn your head away.

"It might. She's slept with everyone, and I do mean everyone."

Now you're the one looking at him. He raises his eyebrows. "What? I get it where I can, Princess."

"Oh, gross. Don't tell me anymore." You hold your hand up in front of him.

"So what happens now? Are you moving in here? I'm not great with pets. I might not remember to feed you every day?"

"What do you suggest?"

"I'm not going to tell you what to do. You have to figure out your own shit. But if it was me in your situation, I say fuck 'em."

"Fuck 'em?"

"Yeah. Fuck 'em." He waves his fist in the air. "You don't want their pity. Make sure they know they're beneath you." He stands. "Stand up. Come on, stand up. I've got other crying girls waiting for me. You're not special." You take his hand to stand. He wipes the tears of your cheeks and straightens your shoulders. Then pretends to adjust your imaginary crown, which makes you smile. He uses his index finger to gently raise your chin, so your head is high in the air. "There. You're all better." He runs his hand along your cheek. "I'll see you around, Princess."

"Thanks for rescuing me, Sir Eddie...Again."

He drops into a dramatic bow, then turns and heads out the door. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more."

***

You take a deep breath before entering the lunch room. The people at your usual table don't turn to look at you, refusing to meet your eyes. Except Jackie, of course, she's sitting next to Steve, staring at you with a smug grin. You hold your head high as you walk down the center aisle with your brown bag lunch. You take a seat at the empty corner of the Hell Fire table. Your name is flying around the room in low murmurs. Opening your bag, you pull out your sandwich and unwrap the wax paper. The loud conversation that usually going on at this table has stopped. Your head turns to find Eddie's brown eyes watching you. You hold his gaze, but neither one of you says a word. The corner of his mouth turns up the tiniest bit before he launches back into conversation with friends. You finish your lunch and never look down. Steve never looks at you once. At the end of the day, you open your locker to gather the books you'll need for homework, and a folded piece of notebook paper flutters to the floor. There is a single line written in unfamiliar handwriting.

Fuck 'em

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Part 5

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Tag List: @boomhauer

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.👑

[divinegrey]

𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 / 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

yes, i'm back with yet another viper imagine, sorry not sorry! thank you to my friend for putting prompts in my inbox (and also threatening to eat my toes, fucking weirdo). this part one of two, the other half is gonna be with reyna!

prompt: Grey I'm seeing a decline of hot mean women fics, so I present a Rivals to lovers undercover banquet AU 🤩 And they get forced to dance with each other and Reader is just teasing the shit out of her (preferably with Reader in a tux but whatever you prefer hon)

words: 1623

warnings: viper being a bitch, swearing, slight sexual themes toward the end

“I can’t believe they chose us for this,” you say, pulling on the front of your blazer, trying everything you can to get it a little less tight around your arms. To your left, Sabine, otherwise known as Viper, picks up two flutes of champagne and presses one into your hands. “You think they would’ve chosen Chamber, or— or even Cypher! Those two would’ve been way better at this.” 

“Quit whining,” Sabine says. You shut up promptly, bringing the champagne to your mouth to down it all in one go. You feel the prickling sensation of her eyes on you as you empty the glass. It tastes expensive, bubbling in your throat. Sabine’s brusque words hardly bother you anymore; you’ve built a tolerance to Sabine’s bite. “Brimstone chose us because we’re the most respectable. Had Chamber come, he would’ve been making bets against too many people and pissing them off.” 

Fair point. 

“Just don’t know why I got put with you, of all people,” you mutter under your breath, hand tucked into the pocket of your slacks. You deposit the empty glass on a waiter’s serving tray as they pass by. “I’d rather choke on one of Raze’s grenades than be here.” 

Sabine lets out an exhale, tipping her chin back. “Don’t think I’m delighted to be here either.” 

You flex your jaw. Leave it to Brimstone to send the two of you undercover at a corporate party. Everyone knows Sabine, they’ll flock to her, leaving you in the wings listening for information. Again, Cypher would’ve been much better at this. The man knows dirt on everything. 

You’re here, so you can’t complain. The only thing you can do is suck it up. This is exactly what you intend to do, by drowning yourself in crab bites and enough champagne to fill your stomach and make you drunk. Even throwing up would be more tolerable than… than hanging out with Sabine.

Sabine, who glares at you whenever you have to share the lab. Sabine, who makes snide remarks under her breath when the others can’t hear her, knowing fully well that you can. Part of your skillset is listening. You hear things, more than regular people would. 

For example, you can hear her fucking breathing. It’s annoying. 

Why is she breathing so goddamn slow all the time? 

“Aren’t you going to start networking? Get schmoozing?” You say, gesturing to the throngs of people in black tie formal; most of the men you see are wearing the same version of suits; you opted for something a little different, something that wouldn’t set you too far apart. 

But also something that marks you as Sabine’s party partner, unfortunately. The rich, deep green blazer is a few shades away from black, complimented by a black undershirt and vest, capped off with an emerald tie. Not exactly black tie, but you don’t give enough of a fuck to care. 

Sabine has a silk dress on, thin straps hugging her lean shoulders and a plunging backline that shows off (to your disappointment) smooth muscle. You can still spot the scars from fighting, but they’re hardly there. 

“No,” Sabine replies, sipping her champagne. “Not time for that yet. “We arrived late— people have just started dancing.” 

Your eyes widen. “Please don’t tell me I have to dance.” 

“I hope you know how to waltz.” Sabine cleverly doesn’t answer your question but gives you a whole new host of headaches and problems. She gives you a crass yet sharp smile, paired with the slightest narrowing of her verdant green eyes. “Be a dear and escort me to the dance floor, won’t you?” 

Fuck. Fine. Whatever. You sigh, holding out your hand. Sabine’s hand slides into it and she steps close to you, only highlighting the height difference now that she’s donned some strappy heels to accentuate her outfit. It’s more than annoying at this point. 

To make matters worse, there’s a goddamn orchestra playing some music, prompting more couples to flock toward the wide open space in the middle of the ballroom. Begrudgingly, you move to stand in front of her.

“Gonna have to help me out here. I don’t know how to dance for shit,” you say.

“You don’t know anything, do you?” Sabine’s voice is a whisper, harsh and diamond cut. You can almost feel the air slicing your cheek when she exhales, moving one of your hands to sit on her waist. 

“I know plenty of things. Dancing with a stick up my ass is not one of them,” you reply, gripping her a little tighter. You’re suddenly regretting your decision concerning gloves— Sabine’s skin is cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your palms. Sabine props your hand up to hold hers and her other arm comes around your shoulder, holding your back. She subtly fixes the collar of your blazer. 

“Then it’s a good thing you have me to pick up your slack, hm?” Sabine’s voice is heated for a reason you don’t quite understand, but there’s no room left to talk. The music swells, and you start dancing. You’re lucky that all of your time fighting for the Protocol has given you steady feet, but you realize that despite being the man of the dance, Sabine is very clearly leading you around the dancefloor. 

You loathe being this close to her. You can smell the faint residue of chemicals covered by the scent of mulberry and something bittersweet. Her toxins are disguised by the perfume coating her skin, and the unfortunate height advantage leaves your nostrils near her neck and collarbones, where the smell is most potent. 

You feel a little lightheaded, but you chalk it up to the champagne you slammed back three minutes ago. 

“Spin me.” Her command is whispered, but you do it nonetheless, stretching your arm up high to spin the woman before pulling her back to you. You do it perhaps a little too roughly because Sabine gives you a look that could melt through steel. You simply keep following the steps, now having the rhythm down enough to try and take the lead. 

Sabine is not willing to give that up, it seems. 

Somehow, it becomes a spar on the dancefloor. Movements are disguised as flair, and no words are said, but the pounding in your chest becomes hard to ignore when the music comes to a crescendo. 

You force Sabine into another spin, to which she executes with grace before you bring her close, doing another round in the box steps. She spots the slight curl on the corner of your mouth and can do nothing to stop you as you push her down into a dip. Your hand wraps around her waist and you spread your feet, unable to hold back a grin as the woman all but falls into a regal drop. 

What you don’t expect is Sabine’s harsh breathing, her arm wrapped around your neck to keep herself balanced. There’s tense eye contact, the smell of mulberries infiltrating your nose and filling your body with heat. She’s openly staring at you in a way she’s never done before; no poison behind her eyes, no snark or bite. 

Your heartbeat vibrates against your sternum as you bring her upright. 

Why… why is she looking at you like that? 

You don’t get an answer, because as soon as the music stops, Sabine is walking you off the dancefloor, all but speed walking toward one of the many corridors leading away from the bathrooms. 

“Wh— hey, easy!” You hiss, trying to slap her hands off of you, but god, she’s insistent. She pushes you into a room, pushing the door shut behind her. You glance around— this is one of the glitziest bathrooms you’ve ever seen. It’s empty, with a long marble counter complete with two sinks. You look over your shoulder. “Sabine, what’s going on—” 

She cages you, hands on either side, pushing you onto the counter. 

And that’s how it starts. That’s when you realize why she’s looking at you like she’s trying to burn your clothes off with acid. 

And that’s how you end up sitting on the counter, Sabine pulling the button on your jacket with her mouth on yours. You taste the champagne you had earlier on her lips, and you push insistently into her, eyebrows furrowed. Her hands— god, they’re fucking cold— press into your sides, pulling you close. 

She leans forward, pressing you into the mirror. You grab onto her shoulders, anywhere you can reach as the stench of mulberry fills your body with heat. Sabine bites your bottom lip hard, causing a curse to slip from your lips. She acquaints herself with your neck, biting and sucking above the pressed collar of your shirt, and with every press of her teeth into your skin comes pleasurable pain. 

“I still don’t like you, you know,” you whisper, your words broken up with the sharp inhales you take to keep yourself from floating away. 

“The feeling is mutual,” Sabine murmurs into your skin, before lathing her tongue over a spot underneath your ear that summons a shudder to rock through your entire body. “You’re insufferable.” 

“You’re a bitch.” 

In response, Sabine clamps down on your neck with her teeth hard. You can’t hold back the groan that slips out of your mouth. You slide your hand into her hair, clenching and pulling to guide her mouth back to yours. Her hand grabs yours and presses it to the mirror behind you, the nails on her fingers digging into the tendons on your wrist. 

You’ve never liked Sabine. 

Not really. 

Yet, the only thought in your mind that exists now is I know it’s bad, but we could be so good. 

#viper x reader #valorant x reader #valorant viper x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant #viper #viper valorant

[undertale-writing-times]

I think the "I think I'm in love with you" prompt with Lover would be really sweet!

I had to rewrite this one like... 5 times so I hope you like it! Haha.

Lover was pretty happy with the life that she was living. Sure, sometimes the sexual things that she had to do with other monsters were annoying; it was just something that they needed to do though, so she never cared too much. Of course, now that they were above ground, they didn't have to do it like that anymore! Frisk showed them that love didn't have to come from lust.

They were something called, what was it again? Asexual, so they didn't feel any type of sexual attraction. It made a lot of sense, otherwise, how could they have not wanted to be with her?! Everyone, and I mean everyone, wanted a piece of her and she wasn't sorry for admitting it. Her brother didn't quite do the best with that kind of stuff, getting too attached too quickly.

A while ago, Lover had been going around the store trying to find everything that had been on her list, and that was going well until she noticed that the thing that she wanted to get, was too high and she couldn't reach it.

Lover huffs, squinting slightly putting her hands on her hips "Aw, come on" She mumbles to herself. She was wearing her familiar crop top and fluffy hoodie, sure she could use her magic to get it down but... man, that's so not fair.

Before she could even begin to use her magic though, someone's hand reached by her and picked up what she was trying to get, and handed it to her "here you go" someone's voice says.

"Oh-" she starts, then looks over at the person. They were a human, and as her eyeshine scans them up and down she smiles "oh~" He purrs, and takes the item "Thank you," She continues, "That's ever so sweet of you"

"No problem" they chirp, in a happy tone smiling. Their smile was so bright.

Lover... she really tried, she could flirt, say some random pick-up line and everything but nothing came out. No matter what she tried, nothing did.

"Well, I'll see you at a later time maybe, bye" they wave, and turn, wandering off. They most likely needed to do their own shopping. It was like she was frozen until they left, then she could react again.

She shakes her head, looks around, then groans covering her face with her hands. "What in the world?" she mumbles to herself, then she shakes her head and goes back to getting the things on the list.

Ever since that day, she had been thinking about them on and off, sometimes they wouldn't come into her mind while other times, they wouldn't leave, and she had no idea why. They weren't even all that special looking or anything, and they didn't do anything to really catch her attention. Sure, they helped her but that didn't mean much, right? Okay, maybe it did a little.

She had seen them around once or twice, yet she never went to talk to them and it was starting to annoy her. She never felt nervous, so why did she feel nervous about spending time with them, and talking? It wasn't like she knew them at all!

With those thoughts, she did speak to them for the second time, and the first time she really tried to talk with them. It went pretty well. She didn't try to flirt at all, which was just a little strange. Normally she would do so, just around them, it was like she couldn't. The words got caught in her throat like she would choke on them.

And she wasn't the type to choke on things!

Today they were spending time together, and they were rambling on and on about this one thing and she was listening to them closely, her head rested against the palm of her hand. They were waiting for their drinks, and they were dumping all the info that they had about this thing until they seemed a little nervous, their cheeks flushed and they chuckle, saying "I'm sorry, this must be getting annoying, huh?"

"Not at all," She says, maybe a tad too quickly. Her cheeks flush a little, then she chuckles, and adds "I like listening to you talk about your things, you have such a pretty voice" she coos.

When she saw them get a little flush on their cheek, they laugh, turning their head away "Oh be quiet" they mumble, moving their hand over their mouth.

They were so cute.

Lover thought that they were just the most adorable little creature.

Well... not little, still cute though!

Throughout the day they would do things together, rambling and chatting it all up. They got their food, and he messed with them by putting some cream on their nose.

They thought it was so silly.

After that, they kept meeting up. They would do things together, and Lover had this strange feeling in her chest. Her friends would often tease her, saying that she got bonded really quickly, though she would tell them that she was not, and they needed to stop.

Because, you know, there was no way she would be bonded with someone so quickly!

During another hangout, this time in the park, she was thinking about that and she quickly started to realize something... she was bonded to them really quickly. There was no doubt about it, though why? What the hell was going on with her? Was she lonely? Did their soul just match hers?

She felt a hand get placed against her shoulder, and Y/n's voice saying "Hey Lover, you okay?"

"I..." she starts, then shuts her mouth and she breathes out slowly then looks over at them, reaching out taking their hands into her own boney ones. Their hands were so soft. "I think... I think I'm in love with you" she says, her voice shaking a little as the words slipped by.

They blink a few times, their cheeks flushing quickly. "R...Really?" They ask, sounding shocked. She just gives a small nod, expecting them to reject her right here and now but they didn't, they smiled and lean over, kissing her cheek "Took you long enough" They mumble.

Wait what?

She looks at them, with large eye sockets because she was shocked, then groans hiding her face blushing brightly. Damn it, this love thing was a lot harder than just having sex with people for no reason.

#Lusttale #Lusttale Sans #Lover #Underlust #Underlust Sans #Lover X Reader #Reader X Lover #Undertale AU #Undertale Alternate Universe #Undertale Alternate Timeline #Undertale Imagines #Undertale Ask Blog #Ask Blog #Fanfic #Fanfics #Undertale Fanfic #Undertale Fanfiction #X Reader #Prompt Imagine #Prompts #Not Proof Read

[allator-ad]

So this is a little unedited and abandoned work I was chipping away at but kind of lost the plot on. I don't wanna put it on ao3 since it's not much, but I feel bad just letting it fester in the WIP hell, so here we go!

Warnings for NSFW text, on ao3 it would be rated M not E but it's spicy. The focus is on Tango but there's a decent amount of Zed and a fair amount of Gem and Impulse. I don't think it needs any trigger warnings but if you think of any lmk and I'm happy to add!

It started out innocuous enough, one of the little parties that tended to pop up here and there on the server. Bring a dish to share, drinks provided, music, dancing, yadda yadda etc etc. Just your normal, standard, everyday party. Except for the two words scrawled on the bottom corner of the invite. 'Dress Down.'

Those two simple words sent a shiver down Tango's spine, and in his head he was already running through dozens of scenarios. True, he still had a couple hours to plan, but between indecisiveness and his inability to keep proper track of time, it was probably better to start picking out his outfit sooner rather than later. And doing that would hopefully keep his mind off of... other things as well. At least he was exempt from the potluck rule.

A few short hours later and he was stood outside the grand front entrance to Gem's elven castle, shuffling from foot to foot as he waited. Thankfully it didn't take long before Gem appeared, with a delighted cry of "Tango!" she cleared the last few feet between them and wrapped him up in a hug.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it, oh, you look amazing!"

"Heh, thanks." And he had to admit, he did look pretty damn good. He'd spent most of the time between receiving the invite and now fussing over what to wear and how to do himself up, and he'd settled on a simple but effective outfit.

His top was a skintight sleeveless black turtleneck, complete with cutout window that could only just barely be considered appropriate, showing off plenty of skin and the tuft of fur on his chest. He had waffled between skirt or pants and eventually settled on the latter, skintight as well. They were high rise, belt resting around his middle to allow for another cutout that showed off his tummy and more fur, if he really stretched they'd ride down low enough to flash a glimpse at what was just underneath. The pants also had a series of slashes along the outer thigh from hip to knee, stopping just above his knee-length combat boots. Which may or may not have been taller versions of what he wore already, but hey, it worked.

The whole ensemble was topped off with an array of chains and belts in teal, aqua, and silver, and a shorter replica of his dungeon master robe in the style of a thick, fluffy shrug. To finish off the look he had a light layer of lipstick, and a decent eyeliner and mascara. The last was probably unnecessary, but he liked the look when it ran, and if tonight went anything like he expected it certainly would.

"You ready to go in?" Gem asked once she released him, and when he nodded she held up the finishing touch. He swallowed and tilted his chin up as she fastened the thin red collar around his neck. "Sorry, it's your old one, we didn't get the one in your new colors made in time."

"Nah, it's fine." He waved off her concern with a flick of his wrist, then choked when she hooked a finger through the D ring on the collar and *tugged*.

"We don't wanna keep everyone waiting!" How she could still be so cheery and level headed about something like this he could never understand, but obediently he followed after her, tail flicking and curling behind him in anticipation for what was about to come. Hah.

Gem had transformed one of the empty rooms in her castle for the party, and his eyes went wide as he saw the setup. Oh, he hoped she kept this. Lights hung from the ceiling, dim enough to cast corners into shadow without making visibility impossible. Chairs, tables, and couches were arranged tastefully around the room, a clear designation between the socializing and dining area, and the 'socializing' area. Everything was draped in soft, sheer fabrics, and the music was at the perfect volume to still be heard but allow for easy conversation.

Gem released her hold on Tango's collar and winked. "There's probably enough time for you to grab a bite and a drink before the entertainment is needed, but I think you better hurry." She was right, as he looked around he noticed a few of the other hermits had already showed up, Etho parked in one of the dark corners while Impulse and Pearl were chatting idly on a couch. He debated food for a moment before deciding against it, probably not a good idea until after everyone had their fun. And there go his thoughts again, running through the possibilities tonight would bring, forcing him to muffle a light whimper. Seeing as he had nothing to do for the moment but wait, he chose one of the empty couches tucked further out of the way and leaned his head back, settled in until he was needed.

Time passed as he drifted, lost to his own thoughts until a body settled beside him, hand resting on his thigh.

"Hello hello," he heard from somewhere above and to the left of him, and when he zoned back in enough to be properly aware of his surroundings he was greeted with the grinning face of Zedaph, nose wrinkled in that way it always did when he got excited. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, not at all." At the confirmation Zed's grin widened, and his hand slid up so that his thumb was tucked into the stomach cutout of Tango's pants, making Tango shiver and swallow.

"Glad to hear! I noticed you over here all by your lonesome and figured I'd come see why." Oh fuck, now that thumb was moving in maddening little circles, and he had to fight to stay focused on the conversation.

"Oh, y'know, just enjoying the party."

"All by yourself? But you don't even have any food or drink! You can't be having that much fun."

"Eh, I manage."

"Well if you don't mind I think I'd like to finish up my meal here. And then," he leaned in and licked his lips, eyes hooded, and for how ridiculous it looked Tango should *not* find it sexy, but he still heard himself let out a low whine as Zed continued. "I think you look like an absolutely delicious desert."

"Works for me!" Tango squeaked out, and like a switch flipped Zed pulled back, expression brightening to his usual carefree grin.

"Excellent! I'll be right with you then." He withdrew fully, meaning his hand was no longer slowly driving Tango up the wall, a blessing and a curse. After a deep breath Tango took the reprive to gather his wits, probably not a good idea to fall apart so early in the night after all.

It didn't take long before hands were on him again, this time grabbing his hips and hauling him into Zed's lap.

"Well then! Let's see what kind of trouble we can get up to, shall we?"

Not even bothering to wait for an answer he yanked Tango into a kiss, and where normally Tango would fight and play, tonight he melted into it immediately, letting Zed lick into his mouth without any resistance. Clearly it was appreciated, as one of Zed's hands left his hip to stroke along the base of his tail, making him groan into the kiss.

As usual, it only took a few moments for Zed to get another idea, and he trailed kisses along Tango's jaw until he reached his neck.

"Well that's just rude now, isn't it? Wearing a shirt that covers up so much? Would anyone happen to have a knife?"

So much of his focus had been on Zed that Tango had failed to notice the other hermits congregating around the pair. Scar had pulled over a dining chair and had Grian perched in his lap. Both were intently watching the scene unfolding. Impulse, Gem, and Pearl were still seated at one of the tables, but all three were throwing glances over during lulls in their conversation. A few other hermits were scattered about, but he was stopped from paying much more attention when Etho leaned over the back of the couch to hand Zedaph a knife.

"Ah! Thank you very much. Chin up pet, we wouldn’t want to slice up your pretty skin, now would we?" His grin went sharp as Tango obeyed with a shudder, and he pulled the thin material of his shirt far enough away to make a slice from the top of his neck to where the shirt ended at his shoulder. "At least, not just yet."

Once the fabric had been cut Zed returned the knife to Etho, then immediately latched onto Tango's now-exposed neck with glee. Tango jolted, then moaned as blunt teeth nibbled at his neck. It didn't take long before he was a squirming mess, leaning into wherever Zed's hands were roaming at the moment. At a particularly harsh bite he gasped, grinding his hips down into Zed's below him.

As if it was some kind of signal, a heavy hand descended on his shoulder and a body pressed against his back.

"And what do we have here?" Tango tried to lean his head back to look, but with Zed still demolishing his neck and the hand on his shoulder moving to grip his hair and hold him still, it was impossible. "Letting someone cut up your nice outfit just to go to town on you? Slut."

He wheezed, air knocked out of him like a punch to the gut as the word rattled around in his skull. Slut. He'd never really been on the receiving end of that word before, but with the whole body shudder and desperate grind of his hips, clearly it did something for him. Good to know.

A tug of the hand in his hair pulled him out of his head, and he fumbled as he was pulled from Zed's lap.

"Hey! I wasn't done with him yet!"

"Too bad! You were taking too long, and besides," he was spun around to stare up (and up and up) into Impulse's eyes, and he had to stifle a moan at the expression he saw there. A thumb brushed over his lips and he obediently parted them to let it rest on his tongue. "I can think of a better use for our slut here than just keeping your lap warm and your mouth occupied."

He was pushed down to his knees on the couch, and a pouting Zedaph shuffled to make room as Impulse stepped into Tango's space even more, crowding him in. This received immediate boos from their audience, Scar and Grian now joined by Pearl and Gem.

"What’s the point of all this if we can't even get a show," Grian heckled, and with a roll of his eyes Impulse grabbed Tango by the arms and *lifted* him, adjusting their positions until he was the one seated on the couch and Tango was on his knees on the floor between Impulse's legs.

"Is the peanut gallery happy now?" A few cheers and smattering of light applause, and thenI Impulse had his hand fisted in Tango's hair again, grip just enough to be on the right side of painful. "Good, now I think our entertainment for the evening should show us what he can do with that whore mouth of his."

#ADllatorAlliterature #ta.ngo #ze.daph #im.pulse #ge.m

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Summary: Y/N (stylist!yn) applies to be a styling intern for the One Direction crew during the Where We Are tour. As she gets better at her job and closer to the band and crew (especially Harry Styles), some of her dreams seem to be coming true, but so are some of her fears.

~~~~~

CHAPTER 29 -

I COME ALIVE WHEN I HEAR YOUR VOICE

A/N: Fun! I'm having fun writing these chapters! I hope you're having fun reading them!? Thanks to @behindmygreyeyes for letting me talk out my ideas and get some perspective for this chapter. And as always, Mae @watermelonsugacry for putting up with every single question I ask.

>> Warnings: Some language, a little angsty (I think?)

~~~~~

June 13th, 2015 - Concert Day

Since your little emotional breakdown a week ago in Cardiff, you've been trying to avoid any run-ins with Harry. It's too difficult to see him with Candice. You want to keep away so you can keep yourself together.

You get to the Brussels show venue early, as you usually do, to get things done quickly. You put out a plain black t-shirt and black jeans for Harry, disappointed that he's not taking many style risks anymore. Niall will get a white long sleeve shirt and denim jeans. You make a mental note to encourage him, again, to venture out.

You make your way down to catering, hoping to grab a quick smoothie, and then keep yourself busy the rest of the time.

"Oi! Y/N!" Louis shouts from behind you, as you walk down the hallway.

You swivel around.

"I've been looking for ya!" He says, bounding up to you.

"What's up? You're so… bouncy…"

"I'm pumped up right now!" He grins.

"Why's that?"

"It's the first time we are performing 'No Control' live!" Louis exclaims.

"No way!" Your mouth drops open.

"You've gotta come watch!"

You suddenly tense up.

Louis grabs your shoulders. "It would mean a lot to me, but you don't have to, love."

Your heart flutters knowing that you want to support Louis, even if you don't want to see Harry.

[But he will be moving around on stage, it won't be too bad]

"I'll be there Tommo. I won't miss it." You smile.

"You're the best, babe!"

"I know." You giggle. "I'll see you out there."

You turn back around and make your way to catering again, needing that smoothie now even more.

[Definitely not a coffee, your nerves are now on full alert as it is]

~~~~~

<< HARRY'S POV >>

He hasn't stopped thinking and worrying about you since that last show in Cardiff. Niall told him it's not his job anymore, and he is probably right, but even as just a friend, he wants to make sure you're okay.

Only… he doesn't think he can be your friend. Not just your friend. He wants to uncomplicate those feelings, even by a small amount.

Harry woke up early and ran down to grab some coffees while Candice still slept. His mind was racing, and he just wanted this morning to move by quickly.

He arrives back at the room to see Candice sitting up in the bed.

"There you are." She smiles.

"Sorry, went to get drinks." He states, handing her one of the coffee cups.

He sits on the edge of the bed and takes a sip of his black coffee, staring at it as he holds it in his hands.

"Candice…"

"Yep."

"I…" he sighs. "I'm so sorry. I… umm… I have to end this."

She chokes a little on her coffee and scoots next to him on the bed.

"What?"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I need to end it. It's not fair to yo-"

"Not fair? Not…" She scoffs. "It's Y/N."

"Huh?" He asks, lifting his head up in her direction.

"It's Y/N, right? You have feelings for her." She states.

Harry sighs for the third time. He opens his mouth but words can't come out, so he just looks her in the eye with an apologetic expression.

"I can see it, Harry. Every time you're around her." She sighs and shakes her head. "I was wrong to think I could change that."

"I'm sorry Candice. I did like what we ha-"

"But you wasted my time, Harry!" She shouts, a few tears forming in her eyes.

"I thought I could get over her, that I would be over her!" He admits.

"Over her?" She growls.

"Shit." He mutters. "Y/N and I dated last year."

"Right." She nods. "So, I was just a rebound. Someone to get over her with? I really didn't stand a chance, did I?"

He groans. "I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't think, at all. You didn't think about how it would hurt me!" She covers her face with her hands. "You shouldn't have dragged me into this."

He runs his hand through his long curly hair and then over his face.

"I feeling fucking terrible." He shakes his head.

She sits there, silent.

"Everything is so fucked up." He adds.

"Yeah, it is. What you did is really fucked up." She inhales deeply and puts her hand on his. "Just don't fuck it up with her, okay?"

His eyes shoot over to hers. "What?"

"You fucked it up with me… but… it was never me you really wanted." She looks down at her coffee. "So… just… don't fuck it up with her. Don't break her heart too."

He winces. "I already did." He whispers.

"Oh." She replies. "Well… if she's worth all this bullshit then fix it."

[Can't really do that, you're with someone else]

"I'm really sorry, Candice. I really am."

"Shockingly, I believe you." She responds.

He gives her a little smile, but she gives him a little frown back with hers.

"But that doesn't mean you're not an asshole for this." She adds.

"Fair enough." He nods.

"Let me get my things. I'll be out of here soon."

~~~~

Harry gets to the venue early, knowing that's what you like to do, being the hard-worker that you are. He doesn't even know what he's doing, or what he wants to say, but he wants to see you.

Walking through the halls, searching for you, he comes up to the dressing room, but stops before getting to the doorway.

"So, what exactly happened with Ryan?" Niall asks, clearing his throat.

[Something happened with Ryan?]

"They broke up." Natalie replies.

[Broke up?]

"Why?"

"Oh, the dickhead didn't want her coming back on tour!" Harry hears her scoff. "He basically almost demanded that she stay."

"What? Asshole." Niall states.

"And he accused her of cheating with Harry."

[What a wanker]

"Woah. That's rough."

"He was always jealous of Harry because Y/N… well… you know…" She states.

"Is she okay?"

"About the breakup? Yeah. She's the one that ended it."

"That's our girl!" Niall chuckles.

"But about Harry? I don't know." She states. "I think she still fucking loves that idiot."

[What? You still love him? Okay, now he has definitely got to find you]

He doesn't wait any longer and walks through the doorway, pretending he didn't hear anything the two of them were just talking about.

"Hey, Nat, where's Y/N?"

She gasps as she turns around from the sudden surprise of him being there.

"What the fuck, Harry?" She shouts.

"For fucks sake, man!" Niall adds.

"M'sorry… but… please?" Harry begs.

She puts her hands on her hips and shrugs. "I don't know. Busy somewhere?"

Harry looks around, as if he'll find you standing right there. He sighs.

"Why are you trying to find her?" Niall asks.

Harry's eyes switch back and forth between their faces. "I just want to talk to her."

"Candice doesn't care that you're roaming the halls looking for Y/N?" Natalie snaps.

"I… no… I broke up with her this morning."

"You broke up with the Victoria's Secret supermodel?" She asks.

"Yes…" He responds.

"Really? Why?"

"We, umm… we just weren't working out."

Natalie folds her arms across her chest and Niall raises his eyebrow at him.

"Mhmm…" Niall states, quizzically.

Harry rolls his eyes and throws his arms up in the air. "For fucks sake. She wasn't Y/N, okay? Is that what you want me to say?"

The two look at each other and chuckle. "Yeah, pretty much." Niall replies, letting out a big laugh.

"Look, Harry, she's hurting enough. Don't stir things up any more than they already are. Please." Natalie asserts. "She deserves to be happy."

He nods. "I know. I want her to be happy."

"Wait…" Natalie says, scooting a little closer to Harry. "You broke up with Candice to be with Y/N?"

Harry furrows his brow. "No. I knew, well I thought, she was still with Ryan. I didn't know they broke up."

Natalie inhales sharply. "Oh, you heard that? Damn. So… you… broke up with Candice figuring you don't even have a chance with Y/N?"

Harry nods and clears his throat. "Yes."

"Damn it, Styles!"

"What?" He asks, eyes widened.

She squints at him. "I was still leaning towards hating you."

~~~~~

As time gets closer to the start of the show, you and Natalie hide out in the common room with a handful of the other crew.

You are fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, staring down as you roll it up, and then down again.

"Honey, we don't have to go out there." Natalie states.

You clear your throat. "I just want to support Louis."

She sighs.

"And we can stand on the other side this time." You add.

"Alright. For Louis." She nods.

"Plus, I can't wait to hear and see it live." You admit.

"It's going to be yummy." She winks at you.

"Not family friendly."

~~~~~

'Diana' is about halfway through when you walk out from backstage. You take a deep breath.

[It will not be like last time. You're on the opposite side. And it's a completely different song anyway]

As soon as 'No Control' starts to play, and Niall starts to sing, the crowd goes crazy with cheers. You join in, but only shortly, as you realize that Harry is walking by on the side where you are standing.

[Why does the universe hate you so much?]

(No Control)

Sweet, where you lay

He spots you, but it's a blank look. Not a smile. Not a frown. Just… blank. Almost like he would be gulping if he weren't singing. Surprise? Nerves?

Just a trace of innocence

on the pillowcase

Something hits him in the stomach, and you can't help but laugh as he bends over and gives a silly expression.

The chorus starts and you turn your attention to Louis. He is on the other side, but you can still see him, and beam with pride as he sings out. This is his song, for sure.

Taste, on my tongue

I don't want to wash away

the night before

Harry runs his hands down his body as Liam songs his verse. You roll your eyes a bit, and notice he took a quick glance at you again. But it feels a bit awkward, because he's not serenading you or anything, he's just… looking…

"I thought Harry would dance around more." Natalie states, leaning in so she doesn't have to about too loud.

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe he doesn't feel good?"

She chuckles. "Or he could just be distracted by the fact that you're here."

"Stop." You glare at her.

"No, I mean, like he wasn't expecting it."

You shrug. "Maybe."

When the second chorus starts, you turn your attention back to the other guys, and throw up your best 'rock on' hand gesture when Niall looks down at you, jamming out on his guitar.

Harry walks over to him right then and points his fingers over him in his Mick Jagger impersonation. It always gets a laugh out of Niall, and you can't help but giggle too.

Right after that, Harry starts walking closer to your spot, but turns back around when he looks at you again.

[You thought this may be upsetting and sad for you, but this is just weird]

Niall nails the bridge and Louis starts the last chorus, giving you a bit of relief that the awkwardness will soon end.

The pedal's down

My eyes are closed

No control

The song ends and Harry's hair falls in his face. As he flips it forward a bit more, he glances over to you one last time through his curly locks.

You can't help but frown, turning to Natalie and motioning for the both of you to head backstage again.

As soon as you are through the curtain, you whip around to face her.

"Is it just me, or was Harry being really weird?" You ask.

"I don't know." She shrugs, looking away from you quickly. "He's weird as it is."

You chuckle.

You both tidy up the dressing room and start packing up. Amelia walks in with a big smile, as she sees you two.

"My angels. My job is so easy with you two here." She walks over to help, and scoots right up next to you as you remove clothing from the racks.

She leans in. "Are you glad Candice is gone?"

"Oh. I didn't know she went home." You reply. "Thought she'd stay longer."

She chuckles. "Right. Well, I'm sure she would have if they didn't break up…"

Your eyes shoot over to her. "What?"

"Oh! You didn't know? Shit." Her gaze snaps over to Natalie, whose mouth stretches out in an uncomfortable and guilty expression.

You glare at her. "No I didn't."

"Well… I'm just… gonna get a snack or something and just not… be here…" Amelia states, immediately walking out of the dressing room.

"What the fuck, Nat?"

"What?" She throws her hands up in defense.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You ask.

"I… I don't know… you've been so upset lately… that's why I didn't say anything, and why I told him to stay back." She admits.

"You what?"

She walks over and puts her hands on your shoulders. "Y/N/N, I'm sorry. I just… I hate seeing you hurting. Especially since I had been pushing you to feel your feelings, and go after what you wan-"

"It's not your fault, Nat!" You interrupt. "And… it was actually nice."

She drops her hands and raises her eyebrow.

"I mean… it was nice to…" you clear your throat. "To feel loved. Even for a moment."

Tears start welling up in both of your eyes.

"Are you going to talk to him?"

Confusion takes over you again. You feel sick and giddy all at the same time. You're not sure if you want to open that door again.

"I don't know." You sigh. "I just… I don't know."

~~~~~

June 19th, 2015 - Concert Day

You have stayed away from Harry again, trying to process all of the confusion that once again seems to be clouding your mind.

Even with the limited styling options, you've kept yourself busy, and today will be no exception. But first thing on the agenda, Lou invited you to get dolled up a bit this morning. She has so much fun doing it and you aren't one to turn down that offer.

With your makeup done and your hair curled, you have a little pep in your step when you get back to the dressing room. You find the Bluetooth speaker Amelia has been using while the three of you work, and you embarrassingly decide to play one the 'Four' album.

[The songs have been stuck in your head lately, so why not let them out?]

(Steal My Girl)

She be my queen

Since we were sixteen

We want the same things

We dream the same dreams

Alright

Alright

You dance around as you hang up the clothes. You stand back and look at Niall's rack.

[One day you'll get him in a printed shirt]

I know, I know

I know for sure

You instinctually pretend you are sliding your fingers along the neck of a bass guitar, just as you saw Harry do that time they performed at Universal Studios.

A huge laugh erupts from behind you and you spin around.

"M'sorry." He covers his mouth with his hand.

Your mouth is halfway open and words seem to be dissolving in your brain.

"That was funny." He states. "No, like, amazing, because… umm… because you copied what I did…" he sighs.

[You have got to stop singing around here]

"Yeah." You try to clear the lump in your throat. "Umm… so… what's up? Do you need help with something?"

His expression drops. "No. I just, umm, wanted to say hi. Haven't seen ya… in a while."

"Yeah. I've been busy lately."

[Lie. Kind of a lie]

"Right. Okay. I'll let you get back to it." He gives the most subtle smile and turns to walk out.

Your heart starts to race and your breathing quickly becomes rapid. You don't want him to leave just yet.

"Harry!"

He spins around fast, eyes wide.

"I found a shirt the other day. And, well, I grabbed it for you. Just as an option. If you wanted to switch it up at all."

You feel as if you just word vomited all over the place, but feel a sense of relief when his smile grows and he walks closer.

"M'kay. Let's see it."

You turn back to the rack and let out the deep breath you didn't realize you had been holding it.

You grab the plain, cream button up shirt with extremely subtle cream texture detail on it.

"It's not wild. More of an in-between option of your previous styles." You shrug.

He beams a wide grin. "Are you bored with the t-shirts?"

"Oh god, yes!" You blurt out, smacking your forehead with your palm. "Sorry."

He chuckles. "S'alright."

"Why did you stop wearing the fun button ups?" You ask.

He starts to blush, but then he frowns and looks to the ground, shrugging.

"Didn't care much anymore."

"But you wore some when I visited South Africa, and for the shows in Cardiff…"

He clears his throat. "Yeah, well." He looks up at you and meets your gaze.

You inhale, sharply but quietly, then look back at the shirt you're holding, before he can see the blushing that wants to appear on your face too.

"Well, this is just an option to throw into the mix."

"I want to wear it." He replies.

"Yeah?"

He nods. "Yeah."

You smile and set it at the front of his rack. You try to reset your face while you're facing away from him, but it's not working. Then, as if your brain switches off, you hear yourself talking about something you shouldn't really care about.

"Hey." You state, still not turning to face him. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Candice."

"What?" His tone changes, and you can tell he isn't smiling anymore, so you turn to face him.

"You two broke up, right?" You wince. "Rumors… ya know?"

"Yeah." He frowns a bit. "It just… wasn't working."

"Oh."

"And, umm, I'm sorry to hear about you and Ryan… ya know, rumors." He smirks.

"It wasn't working either." You shrug.

"He should've been supportive. He shouldn't have tried to make you to stay." He growls. "He's a dickhead."

You chuckle. "To be fair, you never liked him."

"F'course not! What's to like?"

You chuckle again and shake your head. His eyes seem to graze over your head and back to your face.

"Did you visit Lou?" He smirks.

You giggle. "Yeah." You touch your hair a bit. "She's been playing around with it here and there."

"It… it looks really nice."

"Thank you." You mutter. "Yeah… so…"

"So." He replies.

"I should probably…" you point over your shoulder to the clothing racks.

"Right. Yeah." He replies.

You turn around, holding onto the rack and closing your eyes, trying to stabilize your breathing.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You twirl back around to face him.

"Wanna come watch a song?"

You inhale, sharply and quietly again.

"You know, like, dance and sing to a live One Direction song, instead of from a speaker." He smirks.

You glare at him. "Hmm."

He clears his throat. "Please?"

The breath is taken from you again, and you feel that familiar but long absent feeling.

[Butterflies]

"Okay." You smile. "Which one…?"

He points to the speaker. "That one."

~~~~~

Natalie is standing there, in the dressing room, with her hands on her hips.

"I'm so fucking confused. So… you're going to watch a song? Again?"

You shrug. "Yeah?"

"And why?"

"He asked me to." You reply. "Well, he asked if I wanted to."

"And you said yes?"

You nod.

"Why?"

You frown slightly, but stop to think, because you don't actually have a specific answer for her.

"I don't know. I just want to. Feels like it'll be fun this time." You start to feel that inconvenient heat rise in your cheeks, so your drop your gaze downward.

"Okay, cool! If it'll be fun, can I come?" Natalie asks, causing you to snap your head back up.

"I thought that was a given…"

~~~~~

<< HARRY'S POV >>

As the guys are gearing up to go out on stage, Harry feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

:natalie: are you stirring things up again?

:harry: no, i'm not trying to

:natalie: because she is happy today

:natalie: and i don't want to see her hurt again

:harry: i don't want to either

He sees the typing bubble appear, and then disappear, but then reappear again.

:natalie: which side should we be standing on

He gets the biggest smile on his face, then excitement and energy pump through his body.

:harry: your left, looking at the stage

~~~~~

You and Natalie decide to just head out there for the beginning of the show, since 'Steal My Girl's will be playing right after 'Clouds'.

The crowd is loud and vibrant. You love and have missed the energy, and now you think you can finally enjoy it again.

You watch as Harry moves all around the left side of the stage. You realize what you're doing and look back to the others, watching them have their own fun. Liam is doing his usual dancing and twirling, Niall is rocking out on his guitar, and Louis does his little bounce in place.

The next song is the one you've come to see and you get anxious.

"You good?" Natalie asks.

"Yeah! Great actually." You reply, unintentionally biting your lower lip a bit.

"Okay." She smirks, shaking her head.

She be my queen

Since we were sixteen

We want the same things

We dream the same dreams

Alright

Alright

Harry's bouncing around a little, singing to fans, and seems to recognize someone in the crowd.

When Niall's part comes up, Harry does the move that he had made fun of you for doing earlier.

[Why is it so hot when he does it?]

You try to shake your thoughts off and just enjoy the song as Liam starts the next verse. But your eyes are moving over to Harry again. You can't help it.

While they are singing their last 'na na na' of the chorus, Harry looks down at you and smiles. It sends a rush of goosebumps all over your skin.

She belongs to me

It takes you back to the times he invited you to watch them perform 'Right Now' last year. The same giddiness and butterflies fill your stomach.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm and control yourself.

As Niall sings his next part, you look straight up to Harry, waiting to see if he does his move again.

I know, I know

I know for sure

Sure enough, he licks his finger and pretends to slide his other hand up the neck of a bass guitar. He looks over at you and grins.

[You need to stop getting flustered]

You start to feel warm all over, and suddenly become very aware of how you're reacting, especially because it switches when he starts singing about never letting her down before.

It tightens your chest a little.

The guys start to move down the walkway, so you are able to shake it off and go back to belting out the rest of the song, like Harry had suggested you do.

The song comes to an end, so you and Natalie make your way backstage

You reach the dressing room and Natalie gently grabs your wrist to turn you around.

"So, what's going on, Y/N?" She asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I just want to know where you stand, how you're feeling."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You cross your arms over your body.

"Y/N/N, you were humming the song all the way back here!" She puts her hands on her hips.

"So? I like the song…" you scowl.

"And maybe also like the person who was standing in front of you and singing it?" She raises one eyebrow at you.

"I… well… I mean, yes. You know how I feel." You state. "But it was just… fun!"

"If you say so." She rolls her eyes.

"Why do you care anyway?" You ask, matching her stance with your hands on your hips. "You hate Harry."

She clears her throat. "He fucked up, big time. I hate that he hurt you."

"But…"

"But… You seem happy today, and I love that."

You walk over to your best friend and grab her face. "It was just the song."

[Except it wasn't]

"Okay, honey."

"I think."

She swats your arm and shakes her head.

"You're impossible."

"Trust me." You reply. "I'm annoying myself too."

~~~~~

You hear the fireworks and the cheering that occurs during 'Best Song Ever' and you finish packing up the stuff for the trip to the next show.

Thudding of footsteps can be heard in the hallway and the guys all pop into the room.

"Fuck, I'm knackered, lads." Louis exclaims.

"I do just want to go to bed." Niall agrees.

"Then what are you doing here?" You chuckle.

They both look over at you. "Love, it's ritual now. We come back here after the last show in each place. Since there was only one here, that's tonight." He nods.

"You came to see me? Aww shucks, you don't need to do that!" You joke, dramatically holding one hand on your chest and waving the other towards them bashfully.

"Oh geez. We've lost her, lads. She's gone insane." Niall states.

You all laugh.

Harry follows Liam through the doorway, and he grabs a water bottle before making his way over to you.

"So?" He asks.

"So… what?"

"Feedback?"

"Oh! Yeah! Definitely better live!" You chuckle.

He gives you a wink and those old butterfly friends of yours return.

"Told ya." He smirks. "Kinda like old times right?"

"What?"

"You coming to watch part of the show… me asking what you thought… now all we need is cooki-"

You don't even realize you have a tear until it starts to trickle down your face. You frantically whip around, pretending to cough, and wipe it away.

[Hopefully he didn't see that embarassing display]

He shoves his pants into his jean pockets and let's out a deep sigh. "It's just nice, to be friends again."

"Yeah." You smile. "It is."

His eyes are glued on yours and he scoots closer, causing your entire body to tense up as you can feel his warmth and smell in his aroma. It takes your breath away and you have to remind yourself to let in some air.

[Keep. Your. Composure]

"C'mon lads, time to go! Dad is getting grumpy." Louis shouts, as he points to Liam.

You exhale in a big sigh, and you swear you can just barely hear him growl. He clears his throat and stands up straight.

"Maybe I'll see ya around." He winks.

"Maybe…" You shrug jokingly.

They all walk out and Natalie comes bounding up to you.

"Yeah… okay… it was just the song…" she squints at you.

"Mhmm." You smirk. "Just the song."

~~~~~

Series Masterlist || Chapter 28 || Chapter 30

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