#in response to men advising me how I could be a better sub if only I were theirs

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bullseye | got it bad, m | jjk, kth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Kim Taehyung really regrets setting up his best friend with Jeon Jungkook, mostly because instead of dealing with one insufferable asshole, he now has to deal with two. He just wants you to come to his art exhibit and support him, and you show up looking like a pimp with Jungkook looking like your escort, sigh.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; you’re a cocky asshole and so is Jungkook; schemes, please save Taehyung; graphic descriptions of various sex acts, smut (fem reader, making out / dry humping / fingering in a public bathroom, threesome smut, mild restraint, nipple play, m-receiving oral, ass / pussy spanking, double penetration / spit-roast, facial, mild dom/sub themes, so much kissing); non-idol!BTS; fuckboy!Jungkook x bisexual, fuckgirl!reader; ft artist, best friend!Taehyung

yup, it’s Butter purple-haired ponytail JK and orange suit Taehyung

--

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"Oh, hey, Tae. How's it going?"

"Hey, hyung."

The voices, one irritated, one pleased, one mischievous, all three looking like the epitome of trouble and the eventual subjects of someone's wet dream.

Kim Taehyung marched over to you, purely indignant, his previous honey-brown hair now dyed to the color of black coffee, the long curls pushed back to reveal his forehead. One stray lock brushed against his dark, sculpted brows that were currently furrowed in annoyance. He stopped in front of you and your boyfriend, hands on his hips. He looked handsome as hell in a tailored orange creamsicle suit and gold earrings, white dress shirt neatly pressed.

"Why are you dressed like a pimp?" Taehyung hissed, jabbing your left breast through your dress. "Why are you dressed like his pimp?!" he added, pointing at Jungkook's smirking face.

You blinked innocently at Taehyung, lifting your oversized black fur coat sleeve to place a delicate hand on your chest, completely unbothered by his harsh reaction to your appearance. Your nails were a gradient from black to white, ever-so-slightly pointed, but not too long to be inconvenient.

Just enough to show you meant business.

Oh, and also you were wearing mock-neck, halter-style minidress that faded from black to white, molded to your every curve. It perfectly matched Jungkook's gradient black-to-white suit. Every step was accented with a sharp click, you in sleek black high-heels and him in glossy black oxfords, dangerous from head-to-toe.

Yes, Jungkook and you were that couple.

"Is that a t-shirt?" Taehyung snapped, switching to prodding Jungkook’s pecs, who grinned in response. You shrugged, the shoulders of your fur coat sliding down so that it now rested on your elbows, exposing your shoulders.

"He thought about not coming with one, but I advised him the other visitors would be too distracted by his sexiness to view your art," you explained, bowing as if you had done a great service.

"And I told her they would be to distracted with her amazing legs, but it's better not to cover them because I like looking," Jungkook chuckled, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you to him possessively.

Taehyung facepalmed.

"I regret paying matchmaker to the two biggest egos I know," he mumbled through his fingers, glaring at the two of you.

"Hey, we kept it low profile. Neutrals."

Taehyung pointed to your boyfriend's hair, pulled back into a sleek ponytail. "Hello? His hair is fucking purple."

You waved his comment away dismissively. "Well, besides that."

"You're a class-A asshole."

"Still makes me high class," you replied with a wink.

"This is really nice, hyung," Jungkook cut in between your bickering. "There’s quite a lot of people here already. I didn't know you were so talented and popular. As expected from my girl's best friend, eh?"

Taehyung winced, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning red. "Eh... it's not a big deal..." he muttered, but you could tell he was enjoying the praise.

"Of course, it is, Tae," you chuckled, pulling out of Jungkook's grasp to hug him, squeezing him between your fur-covered arms. "You've worked so hard to be able to display your paintings at such a nice venue. I'm proud of you."

Taehyung laughed shyly, hugging you back. "Ahaha... thanks, as usual." He planted a light kiss on the top of your head. "I'm happy you guys came."

You grinned. "Indeed. You needed visitors to match the space," you drawled, sweeping your arms in a grandiose gesture to the glass cases of Taehyung's paintings, crisp white walls, and black marble flooring.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, smiling despite being over your antics. "Not sure I need a high-end escort and his pimp sauntering around..."

"When are your parents arriving? I want to introduce them to Jungkook," you interrupted, tugging on Jungkook's arm and making his cheeks flush pink.

"Like this?! Are you serious, my parents are going to have a heart attack once they realize there's a male version of you!"

"Aw, come on, your dad loves seeing me!"

"That's because you both are always up to no good... fucking always pulling pranks on me... I'm actually glad they're stuck in traffic now..."

-

You slid your thumb into his mouth, smirking as you heard his muffled whine. He was trying to stay quiet, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes, whimpering as you rubbed his tongue with the pad of your finger. One of your legs was hooked around his waist and he was holding it up with one hand. His other between your legs, fingers hooking underneath your panties.

“Fuck, I love looking at you, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning forward, shuddering at the feeling of his saliva pooling around your thumb, your own tongue snaking out and tracing the air right between his open lips.

Jungkook moaned softly and shoved two fingers inside your tight, wet pussy.

You pulled your thumb out and crashed your lips to his, letting your satisfied exhale into his throat, your name trapped between his lungs and your hungry mouth, kissing him deeply as he plunged his fingers in and out, pressing your body into the wall of the bathroom stall. Shivers up and down your spine, back arching to feel even more of his chest against yours, frustrated at the clothing between you and him, but still hot and exciting, your hands circling his head and playing with his ponytail, rolling your hips into his rough thrusts.

You tried to break free and moan, but Jungkook captured you with his lips, forcing your noises into his mouth to silence them, rubbing his erection against your hip and thigh, the sound between your legs getting louder because you were getting wetter, closer, your eyes cracking open and seeing his half-open too, staring at you with lust and love, determined to push you over the edge, even in the men’s bathroom where Kim Taehyung’s art exhibit was being held.

Hey, you both waited until you had a nice, long conversation with Taehyung’s parents where his mom drilled Jungkook with questions about what he did and what kind of person he was. His dad, in contrast, seemed to approve of Jungkook and gave him a hearty slap on the arm, telling him trouble and trouble often went well together. Then you and Taehyung’s dad had a praise fest about his son, which made Taehyung turn beet-red in embarrassment. Both of you meant it all, of course.

But, also, both of you enjoyed embarrassing Taehyung in public. It was fun.

Yeah, dads loved you.

You couldn’t imagine why that was.

All that aside, after Taehyung's parents bid their son goodbye, Jungkook dragged you into the men's bathroom and began to make out with your face.

He contained himself for a few hours. It was a valiant effort, living off only groping your ass a couple times, but a man can only take so much when you’re looking like a five-course meal and he’s aware that you’re willing to let him eat, you know?

No? Oh, well.

Maybe that’s just your problem.

Also, yes, maybe you discreetly teased him a couple times by rubbing your ass on his crotch and pressing your tits against his back. Maybe.

You lowered one of your hands, cupping your fingers around his length, sighing in his mouth, feeling how perfectly rock-hard he was, knowing you couldn’t have it and he couldn’t give it to you, not yet, but soon, his deep snarl at your touch, fuck, kisses intensifying, shoving his fingers into you all the way to the knuckle, the wet squish audible and obscene, the adrenaline of danger and satisfaction creeping you closer and closer to your high. His thumb came up and grazed your clit, making you close your eyes and rock your hips into his touch, moaning his name into his own mouth, his force of his fingers pushing his thumb against your throbbing clit hard and fast, the scent of black coffee and lush dragon fruit on his skin and yours, mixing with the sweetness of your orgasm as you wailed in glorious triumph, clutching his head with your hand and his waist with your leg, your other one shaking with strain as each pulse shook you, squeezing his clothed length in your hand, wanting it and pulling back to tell him just that in hot whispers, his soft moan against your mouth, whispering back, your name and his desire, his dark brown eyes nearly black with lust.

“Shit, you know how bad I want to fuck you, right now,” Jungkook panted.

“Please don’t.”

Huh?

You raised an eyebrow at the annoyed baritone voice. “Taehyung?”

“Do you know how long I’ve been standing here, knocking on this bathroom stall, you absolute horndogs?”

You heard him gritting his teeth, his voice nearly a deep growl. You did what any natural person would do.

Reached over and unlocked the door, letting it swing open to reveal your and Jungkook’s grinning faces.

His fingers remained very firmly inside your pussy, barely covered by the hem of your dress. You swept your arm back so your fur coat was out of the way. Always considerate. Taehyung stood at the opening of the door, hands on his hips, orange blazer flaring out with his posture, immediately throwing up his hands and jerking his head away once he realized that, yes, of course, you two would not bother covering up anything.

“Fucking – shit, get your hands off her, man, go home to do that–”

Jungkook began to slide his fingers out, scissoring them with a wet squish and you mewled, slightly exaggerated and performative.

“Oh my God, never mind, stop, leave them in there,” Taehyung snarled, realizing he was facing the mirror and therefore could still see both yours and Jungkook’s smug smirks. He abruptly turned ninety degrees, now facing the wall, giving you both the side eye. “The fuck is wrong with you people? Do you have any decency?”

“Sure, we do,” you chirped.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re in the bathroom,” Jungkook added, softly rubbing your clit and making you bite your lip, enjoying it very, very much.

A muscle in Taehyung’s eyebrow twitched. “Public bathroom,” he snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, what if it wasn’t me who walked in here? What if It was some goddamn stranger listening to this shit?”

“Speaking of which,” Jungkook mused, cocking a brow. “Normal people would just leave. Why did you stay and listen?”

You didn’t say anything. You were simply happily grinding on his hand, the gentle pressure creating a constant ecstasy that you were completely satisfied with, one hand hooked around Jungkook’s neck, waiting for Taehyung to answer with a huge, amused grin on your face. Taehyung knew everything about you.

It almost meant you knew everything about Taehyung.

He rolled his eyes. “You act like I’ve never heard her orgasm before. Big fucking deal.”

Jungkook gave him a pair of incredibly wide eyeballs that indicated that, yes, that was kind of a big deal.

“Tae was my first kiss.”

“What?’ Jungkook blurted, snapping his head back to you.

You shrugged. “We were, like, eight. Just wanted to know what kissing was.”

Jungkook blinked very rapidly, stunned.

His two fingers were still inside you.

You scrunched up your face, thinking. “We were also each other’s first head and fuck too. Although it wasn’t very good.”

“You were a bit shit,” Taehyung interjected.

“It took you five whole minutes to aim. Even a watermelon would be dry at that point.”

Jungkook was still trying to process that you were each other’s first kiss with his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. “W… What? Why aren’t you guys dating?”

You snorted. “I can’t do that. He’s like my brother.”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out. “And she’s like my sister. That’s weird.”

Jungkook finally yanked his fingers out of you and threw out his hands in disbelief. “And being each other’s first times for – shit, basically everything – isn’t weird?”

Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s soaked fingers, your cum stuck between them in viscous strings. Ooh, sexy. You licked your lips, breaking out in a pleased smirk. Taehyung spied what you were looking at and facepalmed. Jungkook seemed to notice too and turned to look at it, suddenly forgetting the whole discussion.

And put his cum-covered fingers into his mouth, moaning deliciously around them.

Taehyung made a horrified face in the mirror, making eye contact with you.

“Um, gross!”

“Eh, shut up, Tae, not like you haven’t done it in front of me before.”

“Well, I don’t wanna watch Jungkook do it,” he shot back, spinning around to glare at you. “He’s your boyfriend!”

You quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve seen other guys do it before when we’ve had threesomes. Plus, you’ve watched me open my mouth with other men’s cum in it so you could cum in my mouth too.”

Jungkook choked on his own fingers.

“WHAT?” he roared.

“You weren’t serious about them!” Taehyung flicked his hand, completely ignoring Jungkook. “And you’re my go-to when the girls I’m seeing want to experience a threesome, so I was just doing you a favor!”

Your boyfriend was having a mild heart attack and neither you nor Taehyung seemed to notice, too busy bickering about your strangely integrated sex lives.

“What’s the difference? It’s just Jungkook. You guys are friends.”

“Yeah, extra reason why I don’t want to sit around and imagine him slurping from your vagina. I gotta look into his eyes later!”

You raised your hands, shaking your head. “So what? You’ve seen my other sex partners in public and never said much about it. Why are you making such a fuss now?”

“Because!” Taehyung flung his hands, stamping a foot on the tile floor in frustration, his handsome features twisted into despair, hands on his head and messing up his dark brown hair. “Because you’re going to stop being my friend now that you’re serious about someone and I can’t do anything about it because that someone is Jungkook and I actually like the guy! I’m fucking happy for you and shit, but, fuck, fuck, what am I gonna do when you’re not in my corner anymore?”

Your jaw dropped, shocked.

“Tae, what are you talking about–?”

He spun around, about to run out, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, yanking him into a fierce hug. And, just like that, Taehyung was that awkward, weird kid in elementary school again, not wanting to admit he was scared and frightened of the big mean boys teasing him about his odd drawings and strange thought processes, calling him a dorky alien. He grabbed your shoulders, shivering, holding back tears.

“No one’s gonna protect me…” Taehyung sniffed, burying his face in your hair. “If you’re gone, I can’t be brave…”

“Hey, you know that’s not true,” you chastised lightly, squeezing him. “You’ve become strong, all on your own. You know that. That whole exhibit is filled with your art. You even got offers to buy some of your pieces. Isn’t that amazing?” You pulled back and placed your hands on Taehyung’s cheeks, smiling up at him kindly. He still looked gloomy and uneasy, lower lip sticking out. “Come on, you know I’m right, Van Gogh,” you teased, pinching his cheeks a little. He fidgeted, frown lessening. “I will always, always be in your corner. No matter what. No guy is going to make me stop being friends or supporting you. You need me to knock someone’s front teeth out, give me the time and place and I got your back.”

“That’s going to send you to jail,” he muttered, smiling slightly.

“Then I’ll go to jail. That’s just glorified detention because they give you free meals.”

He laughed, still with a tinge of anxiousness. “You promise you won’t stop being my best friend over some guy?”

You grinned. “You’ll always be my best friend, Tae. I just happen to really enjoy his company and his dick. You know, a girl has needs.”

He stuck his hand out childishly, pinky sticking out. “Pinky promise me.” Then he stuck his other hand out. “Actually, double pinky promise me.”

You crossed your wrists over each other and pressed your pinkies to his, squeezing his hands tightly.

“I promise I’ll always be your best friend.”

“Uh, guys, you’re kinda making me feel like a third wheel…”

Jungkook might as well have been a bathroom sink to Taehyung and you in this moment.

Taehyung nodded firmly to you. “Okay. You promised. You better keep it.”

You rolled your eyes. “When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right…” All of a sudden, he looked down at your hands and wrenched his own out of them. “Oi! Where have those hands been, young lady?” He looked at his open hands with a repulsed scowl. “You better not have touched his dick and then my hands without washing yours! That’s disgusting!”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Jungkook retorted heatedly. “My dick is perfectly clean and she didn’t get to touch me yet because you busted in and interrupted us–”

“What are you going on about, you’ve touched my hands after I’ve given handjobs! I didn’t hear you complaining!”

“He’s done what–?”

“I keep telling you that’s different, this is Jungkook, a man you actually love, and here I thought you were incapable of that.” Taehyung spoke over Jungkook, jabbing his finger into his palm to drive his point home. “You get that sparkly shit in your eyes when you talk about him and it makes me want to puke–”

“I do not get sparkly shit in my eyes, what the fuck does that even mean?”

“You literally will not shut up about how pretty he is!”

“He is pretty! Look at him!” You banished your arms in Jungkook’s direction like he was your first-place trophy on display, which he might as well be at this point with how much attention either of you were giving him. At least he looked the part.

Taehyung rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, throwing his whole head back. “I can give you pretty. You’ve been telling me I’m handsome all my life.”

“Why don’t we just have a threesome?”

Silence.

Both you and Taehyung jerked your heads to Jungkook, jaws dropped at his suggestion.

The door to the men’s bathroom opened and an old man bounced in, humming to himself.

He saw you.

He stopped, tilting his head. Then he looked from Jungkook to Taehyung and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Love triangle or sexy night, boys?”

Taehyung choked on air. “Not a love triangle.”

“Oooh, sexy night.” The old man gave you two thumbs up. “I’d love to join, but I’ll back out this time.”

You laughed heartily as Jungkook and Taehyung grabbed your arms, pulling you out of the men’s bathroom, not about to discuss a possible threesome in front of some old guy who vaguely offered to make it a foursome.

You made sure to give the old man a wink, sticking your head back in the open door to say, “Maybe next time, eh?”

The old man cackled and Taehyung slapped a hand over your mouth, dragging you out.

“Please shut up, I fucking swear…”

-

“So, why is it different?”

Somehow both you and Jungkook had dragged your best friend into your apartment and tied him to a chair. One of those nice wooden ones with plenty of openings to slip cotton rope through. Probably not what Kim Taehyung thought he was going to do right after his art exhibition, but judging by his peeved, unsurprised face, it wasn’t a completely unexpected result either.

You had pulled up another chair to sit in front of him, still wearing your fur coat, knees between his knees, mostly because Taehyung was forced to spread them because of how you tied the knots.

“I think I hate you,” Taehyung muttered.

“Nah.”

“At least a little bit.”

You slipped the shoulders of your coat down, exposing your skin, casually crossing your arms under your breasts and leaning forward, smiling sweetly at Taehyung. His dispassionate face basically said, ‘go-suck-your-own-dick’. He tried to pulled his arms free.

“Don’t rip your blazer.”

“Bite me.”

“You gonna answer my question?” you asked, redirecting the conversation.

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “I told you. It’s because I can tell you love him.”

You broke your playful demeanor for a second, smiling broadly. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you dork.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like more of a third wheel in my entire life even though you’re talking about how much you love me,” Jungkook said behind you. He was sitting on the couch, as the chairs had been repositioned in the living room.

Taehyung pursed his lips. “That’s why I got scared, you know…” He leaned forward a bit, pouting. “What if you spend so much time with him that you forget about me? What if you guys break up and you blame me?” If he was untied, he would be nervously picking at his lower lip with his right hand right now. Instead, he chewed on it, worried expression clouding his strong features.

You shook your head, reaching out to fluff his brown hair. “You think too much. Why would I blame you over a breakup? If anything, I’d be dragging you out so you can help me keep a record of how many people I can fuck in a night.”

Taehyung made a face. “Why can’t you be normal and cry while eating chocolate?”

“You know I don’t like chocolate.”

“You don’t like chocolate?” Jungkook choked in disbelief.

“I have to fuck my problems away, Tae. That’s the best way to deal with them.”

He rolled his eyes. “You need to see a therapist.”

“Nah, I got you.”

Suddenly Jungkook’s face appeared because you two, sitting on the coffee table.

“How do you not like chocolate?” he pressed, staring at you.

You blinked at him. “I mean, I don’t hate it. I’m just not crazy about it like some people. Isn’t that better for you? I can give you all the chocolate that I receive.”

This thought didn’t seem to have crossed Jungkook’s mind. He grinned, highly pleased with this result.

“You’re even going to give him your chocolate?” Taehyung gasped, affronted. “That’s it, this friendship is over. I can’t believe you would betray me like this!”

You placed your hands on his knees. Taehyung huffed.

“You want me to untie you now?” you asked, patting his thigh and ignoring his dramatic outburst.

“Why? I thought we were going to have a threesome.”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads to blink at Jungkook. He smiled innocently, which did not look innocent at all with his sleek purple ponytail and mischievous eyes.

“Nobody agreed to that.”

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you sided with Taehyung. “Nobody agreed to that.”

“Aw, come on,” he nudged, grinning. “You guys have obviously touched each other before, right? And I can totally trust hyung not to fall in love with you.”

“Because my preferred type wouldn’t hump me in a public bathroom,” your best friend muttered.

“I’m sensing judgement here, Kim Taehyung. Watch your mouth,” you warned.

“Choke on my dick.”

“We can start with that,” Jungkook chirped cheerfully.

“Why do you want this, anyway?” You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. “You never expressed any interest in threesomes before. I assumed you were too selfish for that.”

“I am.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook grinned devilishly.

“But I also wanna see you get spit-roasted.”

“Don’t–” Taehyung began.

Jungkook spread his legs, revealing his erection straining in his slacks. Taehyung snapped his head away, groaning an annoyance, disappointed but not surprised that your boyfriend had zero shame. Jungkook bit his lower lip, tiny mole underneath quivering, excitement and lust in his dark brown eyes, looking right at you eagerly. He purred your name. Taehyung visibly cringed.

“You know I would…” you drawled softly, reaching over to squeeze Jungkook’s thigh. “But I don’t think Tae is into it right now.”

“Yeah, I’d only do it if I was horny and desperate.”

“Then why do you have a boner?”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads down to see his dick trying to bust out of his pants.

He glared at it. “You traitor.”

“Are you talking to your dick?”

“Look,” Taehyung snapped, letting out a puff of breath and frowning at Jungkook. “I’m not immune, okay? She’s hot, sure. Absolutely one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I know.”

“Aw, so sweet!” you interrupted, smacking his leg in mock bashfulness.

“And,” he gritted, shooting you a scowl. “I might be horny and desperate, sure.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Jungkook inquired, smug smirk on his face.

“Well, you’ll get jealous, for one.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “What?”

“Taehyung has a big dick.”

You said it so nonchalantly that Jungkook was speechless.

“Mhm.”

“Not as nice as Jungkook’s dick though.”

“Excuse me? I am offended.”

“You honestly need to improve your technique. You think your size alone is all that matters? Jungkook’s the whole package, great dick, cute smile, diligence, strength, always up for anything, perfect duality–”

“Shit, shut up about him, I get it, he’s the hottest thing to walk on this earth, now stop verbally jerking him, he’s not gonna agree–”

“Kiss him.”

You and Taehyung froze.

Eyes flickering to Jungkook, who raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Kiss him,” he repeated.

Eyes back to Taehyung, who was breathing hard.

“Only because I’m horny and desperate,” he growled.

The corner of your lips ticked upwards.

“Got it bad, eh, Tae?”

You placed your hands on his thighs, sliding down, rising off your chair. You felt Taehyung’s muscles tense, narrowing his eyes. He tried to keep up his severe front, borrowing your tendency to use arrogance to hide your true feelings.

“Isn’t that you?” he challenged. “Need me to satisfy you even though you have Jungkook now?”

You smirked, seeing right through him. “You always give me such blessed service though.”

Something flared in his brown orbs, pupils expanding as you neared. “Don’t.” Your head tilted at his tone, almost pleading, and still you advanced, your soft inhale ghosting his lips. His gaze was on your face the entire time, swallowing hard, anticipation creeping into his stern expression.

“Don’t what?” you whispered teasingly.

“Don’t say it in front of him.”

“But you like it.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to know my embarrassing turn-ons.”

“What if I slip?”

He clenched his jaw. “Fuck, fine, whatever.”

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, licking your teeth slowly, maintaining eye contact. Your words a low hiss, laced with pure lust.

“My good little angel, let this devil corrupt you.”

Taehyung whimpered and you closed in on his lips, kissing him deeply, straddling his lap, rolling your hips into his, voracious, greedy kisses, Taehyung gasping in your mouth as you bounced on his crotch, your spread legs causing the hem of your dress to rise, popping over your ass, moaning into his mouth as you worked him under you, his body familiar and comforting. His tongue encircled yours, whining for more, and you mumbled sweet nothings to him, remembering all the things he loved to hear, and he gave you all the things you loved, the neediness in his kiss, the desperation of his hips rising to add more friction. You weren’t exactly immune to Taehyung either. You could control yourself, normally.

But Jungkook gave you the green light, so you went all in.

Your hands were in his hair, tangled in the strands of black coffee, murmuring in his lips, sweet angel, and Taehyung moaned, fiercely thrusting his hips up and you sitting down on it, already wet, sighing satisfyingly at the feeling of his impressive length straining to reach your dripping heat, too many layers of fabric between them.

“Such a good boy doing such bad things,” you purred against his lips, amused at seeing your lipstick all over his mouth.

Taehyung looked up at you with glazed brown eyes, a tinge of unease in them. Maybe he didn’t want to show Jungkook his vulnerable side. You could understand that. You didn’t mind playing your role but Taehyung was more guarded. He didn’t like to be criticized or judged for the things he liked. You noticed his gaze flicker to Jungkook and then back to you.

You tilted your head and cradled his, running your fingers through his hair. “You want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you cooed gently, kissing his ear.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he breathed, so quietly you barely heard it. “I don’t want him to judge me.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

Taehyung made a disbelieving noise.

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asked behind you, sounding curious and confused that his show was paused.

“Mhm, need you to take my coat,” you replied, pulling back, lowering your arms so Jungkook could stand behind you and remove it. You slid your hands out elegantly, seeing Taehyung’s messy dark hair and lipstick-stained lips. You heard Jungkook back up and you reached into Taehyung’s blazer, pulling out his handkerchief and dabbing at his mouth, carefully wiping it off.

“We can stop,” your reminded him gently.

“No,” he growled, frowning. “I’ve got a massive boner and it’s all your fault. Get me off.”

You grinned. “Alright, angel.”

You saw Taehyung bite his lip, shivering at your words. You couldn’t remember how this started, but it always worked. The roleplaying helped with the whole ‘having-sex-with-your-best-friend’ thing ten times less awkward, and it made it much easier for him and you to get off.

Unfortunately, it also was starting to make both of you much hornier while having sex with each other.

Whoops.

He clicked his tongue, raising his head, eyebrow cocked.

“Dirty little devil.”

You smirked. Taehyung’s voice was always sexier when he was aroused, deep and sultry.

One by one, you undid the buttons of his dress shirt, kissing at his exposed chest, the deep rich tone of his tan skin standing out against the white, his eyes closing at your touch, running your tongue down his sternum and blowing on it.

He shuddered, moaning your name, long and sweet.

You shifted, intending to push the chair behind you back, but it was gone. Instead, your ass backed up into a pair of very muscular legs. You paused, turning your head to see behind you.

“Jungkook–”

A firm hand stopped you, forcefully jerking your head back to Taehyung’s chest.

“Look forward,” Jungkook commanded.

A shiver down your spine at his tone. You smirked, peering up at Taehyung, who smiled.

“He jealous?”

“I’m not,” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your ass.

“A little bit,” Taehyung chuckled, and now he was smirking too.

Eerily similar to you, because who else would he learn such a devious expression from? You taught him well. You hummed, yanking Taehyung’s shirt open and pushing it to his shoulders, his naked torso now exposed to your eyes and mouth.

“Can’t imagine why. This was his idea.”

Taehyung jerked his head to you as you lowered yours to his chest. “What?”

But your lips closed around his nipple and he gasped, sputtering, confused, and then moaning as you moaned, Jungkook yanking down your panties and slapping your ass with his open palm, the sting added to the disapproving hiss of your name.

“He’s not supposed to know. I didn’t do all that acting for nothing,” he snarled, and your response was wiggling your ass, nipping your teeth over Taehyung’s chest, his handsome features twisted in ecstasy and pleasure, the tip of your tongue teasing his other nipple, pushing it around with your strong, wet, warm muscle.

“Whoops.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you and your not-so-innocent tone.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Such a bad little devil. You need some punishment.”

“He already knew?” Taehyung gritted, glaring daggers at your grinning face, saying nothing, your deft fingers undoing his pants. “Answer me, woman.”

Jungkook was positioning your lower half, ass up, legs spread, pussy exposed to his eyes and hand, your dripping core tense with anticipation. When he spoke, his voice was deep and silvery, laced with danger and desire.

“Answer him.”

And he spanked your pussy, making you cry out and leak between his fingers, the sudden sting of pain so nice, and you had the audacity to continue giving Taehyung that infuriatingly smug expression as you dragged his pants and underwear to his knees, freeing his stiff length that stuck straight up, your body repeatedly lurched forward by Jungkook’s open palm on your soaked slit, your juices splattering on his hand and the inside of your thighs. With a smirk, you lowered your head.

“Mhm, he knew… ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, just like that…” you sighed in satisfaction, tongue snaking out and wrapping around the head of Taehyung’s cock, bobbing your mouth up and down like that, stimulating just the tip, paying extra attention to the underside of the head. “Sorry, Tae.”

“Swallow me whole,” he growled. “Now.”

You were ready to do it, of course, but you felt Jungkook’s hand clap onto your leaking, heated pussy lips, and the other danced up your back, so you waited, letting him grab your head and push you down, not quite as roughly as he would have if he was actually being mean, but with enough pressure that you knew he just wanted to do the physical action, wanted to feel the power even if there was no maliciousness behind it.

Your lips closed around Taehyung’s pulsing, hard length, taking it all, a familiar girth stretching out your jaw. You made a light gagging sound as the head hit the back of your throat, not quite suffocating, but enough to indicate, stop pushing me, and Jungkook lifted the weight off your head, still gripping your hair, messing up your perfected style of the night.

“That’s a good girl, swallowing all that dick,” he purred, sliding a finger into you.

You whined, clenching your walls around it, squeezing tight, wanting more.

“Suck.”

You did, obediently, looking up at Taehyung, his head tipping back, low moans escaping his throat as your tongue squirmed at the base of the head in your throat, muscles clinching around his cock, your lips around the base. You swiped your tongue down, stretching it out even farther, past your lips, slurping nosily at his balls, flicking them rapidly with the tip, feeling him get harder and harder, twitching against the roof of your mouth, bending a little due to the lack of space.

“Fuck, let go of her head, fuck!”

Jungkook released you and you grabbed Taehyung’s hips, starting a fast, intense pace, swirling your tongue around his cock, another long finger wiggling into your slick folds, thrusting into you from behind, your legs shaking with strain, Taehyung moaning louder and louder, filling up your apartment with his lust.

“Don’t fucking stop, fuck, you have the devil’s tongue, a-ah, it’s so fucking good…”

Jungkook scissored his fingers in you, the squelching sound loud and lewd, and you spied Taehyung tipping his head back, panting, watching Jungkook finger you from behind, his other hand smacking your ass periodically to watch it bounce and hear you moan, your hips bucking back into his hand every time you ascended from Taehyung’s cock.

“Give her another,” he gasped. “Stuff her more.”

Jungkook snickered. “For an angel, you’re all about the punishment, hm?”

But he did as he was told, shoving another finger in you and you whined, nearly popping your mouth off Taehyung’s thick length, stopping only because of imposing baritone.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Take it all. Or are you telling me you can’t? Telling me you’ve lost your touch?”

You went back down, narrowing your eyes, rising to his challenge. Your best friend knew everything about you and therefore he knew that the second he made it a question of your ability, well, that brought out the best in you.

“Fuck!”

Also made you almost vacuum his dick, but he asked for it.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuuuuck!”

Tighter, faster, tongue all over, nearly forgetting Jungkook was touching you at all because Taehyung had doubted you and you weren’t having that shit, fuck no, not even with Jungkook’s free hand snaking between your legs and feeling for your clit, rubbing it at the same furious pace you were blowing Taehyung’s jerking cock, tipping your head back and angling it so the head scraped against the roof of your mouth, locking your knees to prevent the shudders of pleasure from ruining your rhythm, so good, fuck, feeling so good with the pumping of Jungkook’s powerful fingers, electric satisfaction radiating from your throbbing clit, clutching Taehyung’s hips so hard he was getting indents from your nails, determined to get him there before you, and, by the sound of his breathless cries of your name and the trembling of his impressive girth, he was there.

“Yes, a-ah, you’re so good, so fucking good, I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck!”

His orgasm exploded, flooding your mouth with a gush of saltness, thick strings of cum painting the back of your throat, and you gulped it all down greedily, eyes rolling back, the tense coil inside you snapping and drenching Jungkook’s hands with your own orgasm, your legs unlocking and giving out, shaking and flinching as wave after wave of vicious pleasure flooded through you, Jungkook’s strong arms holding you up, moaning at the feeling of your pussy convulsing around his fingers, still lightly rubbing your clit through your orgasm, whines and whimpers crammed in your throat due to Taehyung’s cock in your mouth, sliding all the way to the base and swallowing around it, because you knew he loved it, wanted it, craved it, groaning carnally, the head swelling and pulsing, nearly suffocating you.

“Feels so f-fucking good… a-ah, yeees…”

You stayed in the position for as long as you could, a good minute, before backing up with a choked gasp, clutching Taehyung’s thighs, eyes drifting up to his and he looked down at you, fucked-out, content, grateful, black-brown curls falling all over his forehead and cheeks, so casually sexy and perfect.

“Good angels always taste the best,” you rasped, licking your abused lips.

Taehyung grinned.

“Untie me, devil.”

“Damn, you do have a big dick.”

“… Stop looking.”

“Why? I wanna see what she put in her mouth.”

You teased the head with the tip of your tongue, smirking. Taehyung looked away, ears turning red.

“You two are shameless.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” you laughed, straddling his lap, casually leaning over him to untie him. You heard Jungkook make a clicking sound and you assumed he was making a frame with his hands and miming taking a photo.

“Stop that,” Taehyung muttered, face full of your covered breasts. “Oi, take your clothes off if you’re gonna squash my face with your tits.”

You rammed your chest into his face to muffle his protests.

-

“Mmm, yes, no faster way to make me limp than you sucking Jungkook’s face off.”

You were too busy grabbing Jungkook’s naked ass and moaning in his mouth, tongue on tongue, purple strands brushing against your forehand, his hands on your ass and squeezing it roughly, rutting his rapidly hardening cock against your thigh.

“You want me to leave you guys alone?”

You broke the kiss, snapping your head around to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow at you from the head of your bed, completely naked. Jungkook continued slowly humping your thigh, peaking pre-cum all over and adding to his own stimulation.

“Are you done being an insufferable shit or what?” you glowered.

“Mmm, no.”

“Hmph, fine, just fuck me from behind then if you’re so needy,” you sighed, turning back to Jungkook’s amused smirk.

“No. I want the mouth again.”

You and Jungkook shared a confused look. “Huh, why?” you both said at the same time, looking at him in unison.

Taehyung lifted his chin defiantly, pointing to you. “I wanna stuff my dick into your mouth and fuck your face because you tricked me.”

You gasped, feeling slighted. “I told you it was Jungkook’s idea, why am I getting punished? You schemed against me first!”

He shrugged. “You corrupted him so, technically, it’s all inherently your fault.”

You protested as Jungkook laughed, pushing you into position despite you verbally fighting back.

“What! All I did was exist! Is it my fault that Jungkook was thirsting after my ass and you decided it would a taste of my own medicine, only to have it backfire in your face? And what if I wanna look at his handsome face? Huh? Why am I not getting a say in – mhpf!”

You yelped as Jungkook and Taehyung shoved your face first into Taehyung’s crotch, his semi-hard cock smacking you in the cheek and getting a mouthful of his nuts.

“Lick.”

They both said it at the same time. You saw them share a look of surprise, shocked that they were thinking the same thing, ignoring you.

Hey, nobody ignores you.

You wrapped your lips around one of his balls and sucked, tongue surrounding it, causing Taehyung to squeal and spread his legs, his cock swelling instantly, especially as your tongue poked out and lapped at the other while sucking intently.

“Good little devil,” Jungkook praised, patting you on the head before backing up, leaving you to rearrange Taehyung’s nuts with your mouth, licking and sucking all over, him gasping and moaning above you, falling back against the headboard.

“You’re crazy, fucking crazy…”

You switched sides, pressing your lips into his crotch to stuff your mouth full before sticking your tongue out and wiggling it on the underside of the other, his thick length now hitting you in the nose, and you realized Taehyung wasn’t going to help you with this, so you internally sighed and reached up to grab his dick and stroke it slowly as you continued your make-out session with his nuts.

Taehyung was chanting your name over and over like it was a prayer, as if he was saying it in attempt to ask for his soul to be saved.

You felt the bed bow and you lifted your head as far as it could go, which wasn’t very far because you still had one of Taehyung’s balls still in your mouth. You were still sucking on it.

He moaned above you, clutching your pillows for dear life.

You heard a condom being opened and felt Jungkook’s knees spread yours, deep silvery voice purring your name.

“Wanna see you take two dicks at once, naughty devil,” he teased, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked opening.

You unlatched your mouth and Taehyung seemed to see stars for a hot second, reeling.

“Hope you’re prepared, sweet angel,” you taunted, and then you swallowed his dick.

“Fucking shit!”

You moaned around his cock, letting it fill you to the throat, Jungkook’s perfect length thrusting into you at the same time, stretching you out deliciously, his own moan adding to your pleasure. There was just something about Jungkook’s moan, the longing, the possessiveness, the love. It made you wetter every time, bringing newfound energy to your meticulous sucking of Taehyung’s cock, who finally seemed to get his bearings and remember what the fuck was going on and what he wanted to do in the first place, because he finally straightened, large hands fitting around your head, pushing your hair back.

“You know why you’re so good at sucking dick?”

You tried very hard not to roll your eyes, already knowing what was coming. You decided to focus on Jungkook’s cock instead, pumping in and out of you, powerful, deep strokes, his hands gripping your hips, trying so hard to please you, and he was good at it, hitting all your favorite spots that made you squirm back against him.

“Because I let you suck mine,” Taehyung growled, holding your head and thrusting into your throat.

Mmmhmm, you thought to yourself. Not that he was wrong, because he wasn’t, being your first and all, but, come on, you didn’t get all your skills from sucking one dick, no matter how amazing Taehyung’s was. Oh well, you let it slide, simply enjoying not having to do much as your best friend fucked your face and your boyfriend pounded your pussy.

Ah, bliss.

The feeling of your mouth being filled and used, stroking Taehyung’s hips with your fingertips, elbows on the bed, legs spread open for Jungkook to slap his crotch into your ass wetly, back to front, a constant encompassing ecstasy that you welcomed, letting them command the pace, hands on your head and hands on your ass, familiar hands, loving hands, because even if Taehyung didn’t want to take you on dates and wake up next to you every day, he still loved you, still made sure he didn’t actually hurt you, careful to thrust hard but not deep, or thrust deep but not hard.

Jungkook wanted to take you on dates and hold you on his arm like his trophy and be waltzed around as yours, so… romantic? It was your version of romance, anyway.

And sex.

Lots of sex.

Fuck, he was so good at fucking you, leaning down, giving you more, chuckling as he heard you moaning around Taehyung’s cock, faster, harder, yes, fuck, yes, so good, your noises trapped in your chest, Taehyung increasing the speed, breathing shallowing.

“Fuck, yes, tighter, give it to me, you dirty devil,” he growled and you obeyed, closing your lips and pressing your tongue against the bottom, sandwiching his length in your mouth, your pussy also squeezing Jungkook harder, basking in his sinful moan, enamored with his voice and the way he said your name, never getting enough.

“A-ah, you feel so good, your pussy is so fucking good, gonna make me cum…”

So rough, so intense, so full of cock, keeping your holes tight, relishing in the way they forced themselves into your mouth and pussy, heady and intoxicating pleasure, you tipping over the edge, wailing around Taehyung’s thick girth as you spilled onto Jungkook’s rock-hard length, mind-numbing satisfaction that spread all over, hot and melting into you. Your walls violently spasmed and caused Jungkook to gasp, cock twitching and jolting inside you, shooting thick spurts of cum that filled the condom, and he buried himself all the way in, a wanton moan of your name echoing off your bedroom walls, savoring the feeling of you milking him, gripping your sides and squeezing you lovingly.

Suddenly, Taehyung yanked his cock out of your mouth and you coughed, startled at the abrupt loss, only for him to orgasm all over your face, hot white strings shooting out of his glistening cock and his hand guiding them, painting your cheeks and open mouth, dripping onto your tongue and clinging onto your swollen lips.

“Tae! What the fuck?!”

He snickered, smearing the residual cum on the side of your frown, winking.

“Blessed service, eh, you devil?”

-

“Is it gonna be like this every time we hang out now?”

You climbed onto Jeon Jungkook’s lap, kissing him deeper, trapping his slim waist in between your thighs, his hands sliding up your skirt, moaning into your mouth as Kim Taehyung smacked you in the shoulder blades, the sound masked by the obscenely loud music of the club as onlookers watched you and Jungkook with increasing interest.

Probably all dreaming of threesomes with you two.

“Hello, you two are supposed to be helping me getting laid, not getting laid right in front of me!”

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #taekook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #taehyung smut #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you

[ana-benn]

The Enforcer's Gun

Warnings: Smut, mafia AU, Dom/sub, possessive alpha male, gun play, exhibitionism, alcohol consumption (I don't advise copying this part. I've done it and it's a great recipe for a hangover from hell), size kink, thigh riding, object insertion

You'd normally be thriving right now. You had your hair done, a dress that fit well and looks hot as fuck, and honestly you'd spent most of the night getting compliments from random strangers. For all intents and purposes, you were having a good night. Except the one man you wanted to notice how good you looked wasn't paying attention to you.

He was working.

While you could appreciate the fact that he had work to do, you hated how at times like this he could just ignore you. If you'd ever told him that he'd have smirked and informed you that he spoiled you. Which was true, but that knowledge did nothing as you stood at the bar and watched him talking to the owner of the nightclub you were in.

'Contract Negotiations' is what he had called it, but he wasn't exactly in the negotiations business. You flinched as Jordie grabbed the guy by the shoulder and held him fast while Jamie hit him hard in the stomach. You'd learned to find this side of him masculine and entirely too sexy, and you felt the tell-tale slick pool in your panties.

"There you are, you're too good at giving me the slip," Tyler laughed as he saddled up next to you. Normally you'd have Jessi here with you, but she'd just had a baby, so it was you and Tyler. You could've spent time with one of the other girls that'd come, but you didn't exactly like them all.

"That's because you're too busy checking out the sorority girls that just walked it," you quipped. "Why won't this bartender come take my order?" You grumbled as the bartender walked past you yet again.

"He probably saw you walk in with Chubbs," Tyler laughed, signaling the bartender.

"Don't let him hear you call him that in public," you grinned. "He may shoot you."

"Round of fireball shots," Tyler said when the bartender walked over finally. You have him a pointed look and he rolled his eyes, "And a Mai Tai for the lady."

"Plantation rum!" You called to the bartender's back. You rolled your eyes as Tyler laughed at your pout.

"Not everyone is gonna cater to you like Jamie does doll, just the facts," he winked then.

"He's not even catering to me," you grumbled, eyes drifting over to where Jamie was crouched over a bleeding man. Apparently negotiations weren't going well. Or maybe they were, you had no idea. "Why'd he bring me again?"

"You've been asking to come for months," Tyler reminded you.

"And you're baby sitting me because..." You asked.

"Apparently I only do 'pretty things' and this isn't a pretty job. So I got girlfriend duty," he smirked looking down at you.

"Why Mr. Seguin," you gasped in mock outrage. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were flirting."

"Nah, I like my balls where they are," Tyler shrugged. "You picked a jealous one." Just then the bartender lined up the shots in front of the two of you and set your Mai Tai down before scurrying away.

You rolled your eyes, as Tyler handed you a shot. You clinked them together before slamming back three in a row each. It was a ritual you'd developed when Tyler was on baby sitting duty, and you actually enjoyed the cinnamon burn. You tasted your drink, rolling your eyes as you sipped the tinny taste associated with Bacardi, before grabbing the final shot in front of you and dumping it into the tiki drink.

"Really?" Tyler asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shrugged, "I hate Bacardi, you know that."

Tyler just laughed as he threw back his final shot, "Come on I know you wanna dance."

You let Tyler lead you onto the dance floor, one hand securing your drink firmly. You danced with him for a while, forgetting your annoyance at Jamie for working temporarily. You were laughing and having fun, as Tyler would spin you around and sing along with you. It was completely not sexy, but it was fun and comfortable. Tyler was Jamie's best friend, and you felt almost as safe with him as you did your boyfriend. You'd grown to see him like a playful older brother who would tease you and goof around, but the second someone touched you he's fuck them up.

A few songs in though and he leaned into your ear, "I'm going to hit the head. Stay here." You nodded in acknowledgement as he walked away.

In a place like this it wasn't long before the vultures descended, and a decent looking guy moved in to try and dance with you. "Just waiting for my boyfriend," you'd explained.

"It's okay, I am too," he laughed.

You smiled then and danced a little with him then, soon another guy showed up and your partner left. Tyler still hadn't shown up so you decided to go to the ladies room. As you walked out after washing your hands you held the door open with your foot so you could throw your towel away, not paying attention to your surroundings you were startled when rough hands grab you and pressed you against the brick walk across from the bathroom.

You were about to scream when you recognized the bearded face looming over you, "Jamie?" You questioned. "You scared me."

"Did I?" He mumbled as he hiked your skirt up and pushed into your body as a brought a thick thigh between your legs. The immediate pressure made you gasp in delight, as his lips attacked your neck.

"I don't like watching you dance with other men," he growled as you pushed down onto his thigh harder, dragging your soaked pussy along the dark fabric of his pants. Craving the friction and already desperate for him.

"I-I'm...." You were losing what your wanted to say as he again pressed rough kissed over you'd neck, working down into the cleavage of your dress. You moaned softly at the feel, and bucked into his body. His hands on your hubs suddenly stilled you.

"You're going to cum on my thigh little girl," he said darkly. "But first I think I need to remind you who I am."

Suddenly you felt cold metal touch your inner thigh, as his other hand ripped your flimsy panties from your core. He shoved the lace in his pocket as he spread your slick around your weeping hole, before working you open on his thick finger. You responsive body was preening under the attention, and you eagerly bucked into his hand as his palm grazed your clit.

"Fuck baby, you're so wet," he groaned his head falling into your neck. "Whose got you this wet?"

"You do," you moaned out. "Only you."

"Yeah?" He asked, making you whimper as he removed his hand. He slowly worked the cold barrel of his gun into you soaked channel, as he did that he sucked your juices off his finger.

He worked you until the barrel was seated inside you fully. Before he left it there running his hands along your inner thighs and occasionally grazing your sensitive bud. He was teasing you while your cunt quivered around the gun, you felt so full and stretched around it.

You didn't even notice as Jamie pulled out his phone, but when you saw him take a picture of your body split open on his gun you could've cum right then. He smirked when he saw your hungry eyes watch his every move before hiking you up further by pulling your legs over his hips. You moaned as he nuzzled his face into your neck again and worked his mouth over your favourite spot. You knew well that he'd leave a dark bruise there, and you craved it. You craved that mark of ownership maring your skin. Just the idea made you groan with arousal.

You shuttered as your back brushed against the rough wall in the hallway of the nightclub. The exposed back of your dress creating space for the wall to scratch your delicate skin.

"Please you begged," as Jamie's large hands teased you mercilessly, the warmth a sharp contrast to the cold metal in your soaked cunt.

"You want to act like a desperate whore," Jamie growled in your ear, pushing further into your body. "I'll treat you like a whore." He pulled the gun back just enough, before pushing it roughly back into you. "You'll get off on my gun right here, or I'll make sure you don't cum for weeks little girl."

You sobbed. It was rough, and degrading, but it felt like heaven. You wanted to hate this, but the feel of Jamie's hands on you, as he fucked you with a weapon was indescribable. You wanted more, and yet with a flex of his wrist you felt yourself quiver as you orgasmed all over the shiny metal.

"JAMIE," your cried out as waves of pleasure wracked your body.

As you came down he worked the gun out of you before sliding it into the waistband of his pants. He slowly dragged your cunt along his thigh as you just watched, completely blissed out. He grinned at your expression as you went from being in a post-orgasmic haze, to being fully aroused again, to thrashing against him as you came violent with nothing in your oversensitive core.

He let you come down, cooing in your ear has he did so, "Such a good girl for me." He rubbed soothing hands over your arms and back as he just held you.

Once he'd given you a moment to recover he slowly set you down on shaky knees. You watched him as he pulled the gun out and wiped it off, before pulling the clip from his back pocket and reloading it. You gazed at him shocked as you put it together.

"It wasn't loaded?" You asked, causing Jamie to laugh.

"You thought I'd fuck you with a loaded gun? Come on baby, I told you I'd engage your fantasy I'm not putting my favorite girl at risk," he said with a smile. "Now come on your going to keep my cock warm while I finished working out some more details."

He grabbed your hand and escorted you back to where he'd been all night. He was unashamed as he unzipped his cock and impaled you on it, as you stifled a moan as you settled into his chest. You peppered kisses along his neck as you allowed his beard to tickle the side of your face as he spoke. You felt yourself slowly soaking him as your juices slicked out of your body.

Every once in a while Jamie would look at you and smirk as he felt your walls flutter around him. You were on edge and desperate for friction. By the time you were left alone, realizing that the club around you had closed and it was just you and Jamie you were borderline feral for him. You moved to get off of him, so he could take you home and fuck you, but instead powerful hands held you in place. You looked at Jamie, shocked, before he lifted you slowly and brought you back down roughly.

You understood what he wanted and slowly tucked your knees under you. You worked yourself up his cock, before the hands covering your hips brought you back down. Your responsive body trembled at the give and take you were doing with him. His eyes never left you, watching as you worked yourself to the edge again, he wanted to see you come undone.

With no adrenaline in your veins this time your climax came softer, more subtle, you whimpered out as your body quaked around him. Jamie groaned and pulled your lips to his as he reached his own peak. Once he'd calmed himself he slowly lifted you off I've him. Tucking himself back into his pants he slung a lazy arm around your waist before nodding at the bartender you'd dealt with earlier. He threw some cash on a table and ordered him to lock up. You felt you face heat as you realized you hadn't been alone, but ultimately you didn't care.

It had been a good night.

#jamie benn #oh captain my captain #dallas stars #hockey #nhl #dallas hockey #dallas sports #stars dallas #jamie benn appreciation day #jamie benn x reader #jamie benn madia au #jamie benn smut #jamie benn fanfic #jamie benn imagine

[readyplayerhobi]

Let’s Put On A Show

; Camboy!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Smut, fluff

; Word Count: 21.5k

; Warnings: Dom!Hoseok, male masturbation, voyeurism, camming, dirty talk, sub!Hoseok, dom!reader, sex toys, male anal, oral sex (male and female), penetrative sex, handjob, fingering,

; Synopsis: Welcome to HopeWorld! Lay back and enjoy a show with BehindTheScene’s number one dominant camboy, Hope! Are you looking for a Master to make you whine? A Sir to make you beg? Or a Daddy to treat you right? Hope’s got something for everyone...

; A/N: This is the first true ‘smutty’ fic I’ve done in a long time...so please be gentle and love it. It got longer than expected...there’s more fluff than you may expect...I hope you all enjoy and love! Please comment, give feedback, send asks and reblog if you like! It helps to encourage me to write and I’m always interested in your thoughts, questions and headcanons!

-

HopeWorld has gone live!

Almost immediately, you’re clicking on the link on your phone while you lay back on the mound of pillows that sit on your bed. Chewing your lip lazily, you wait while the screen goes black before loading, flipping into landscape position and leaving you with the visage of a double bed with dark, ruby red silk covers, and dark wood bed posts rising on all four corners while a pile of pillows rests against the intricately carved headboard.

The title of today’s show is simply ‘Choose Your Pleasure’ and you wriggle slightly against your own soft sheets, thighs clenching as you already imagine the mental and auditory stimulation you’re going to be provided with.

Sure enough, there’s a quiet shuffling noise through the speaker of your phone before a guy steps into view and sits down lightly at the end of the bed. He’s wearing black slacks that leave just enough to the imagination yet still grip his toned thighs deliciously while a white button up shirt strains against his physique as he leans back on his hands, the top two buttons undone and leaving a delicious expanse of golden skin visible, a silver chain with a lock pendant lying against the gap between his collar bones.

There’s pure silence for a moment before he lets out a small huff of laughter, the breath leaving him almost silently before he leans forward again, elbows resting against his knees and giving you a delightful view of his shoulders.

He’s slim, yet with enough muscle to make the definition obvious with his tight yet perfectly acceptable clothing. This close to the camera, you can see the way the deep brown of his eyes reflect the light of his screen while he reads the messages that show on his computer with a slight tilt to his mouth.

You sigh softly as you bring your phone closer to your own eyes, greedily drinking in the sight of his sculpted jawline and the straight slope of his nose that meets two strong, dark brows. Blonde hair that’s almost platinum at the ends sits styled elegantly on his head, a generous helping of forehead revealed while the strands blend into a deep honey blonde before evolving into the dark black of his natural hair colour.

It’s been a while since he dyed his hair, and you wonder idly if he’ll keep the blonde or maybe go a different colour. Last year, he’d spent the whole summer with vivid, scarlet hair before dying it all black again in what had apparently been a fit of boredom.

But his loving and loyal fans had adored the light hair he’d had two years ago and begged him to consider going back, which had led to his drastic change two months ago. You certainly weren’t going to complain; the man looked hot in anything.

The man you were watching, and who was in turn reading the comments that flew past on his screen, was one of the most popular camboy’s on BehindTheScenes; a website that catered to all manner of sexual interests. There were pretty girls who would put on a show and rugged guys who would follow your every order and all manner of other delights to be found.

But unlike some other seedy sites, it was all perfectly legitimate and only verified people where allowed to begin creating shows on the site. That means that they had to be aged 18 and over, along with the viewers. Everyone had to provide valid proof of identity to be allowed on, and you knew that the benefits of being one of the camboys or camgirls were exceptional.

80% of the money they made went to them, with the remaining 20% going to the site in order to keep it going; paying its own staff and keeping the maintenance going. Viewers could simply watch for free, but they were only allowed three free shows a month before they had to pay for at least one show or they could pay a yearly fee of $69 to view as many as they liked.

It worked out better that way, considering each show was $5 to view. There was also an extensive tipping system using coins, which could be bought individually or in packs, video game style. These coins were used to ‘tip’ those making the shows, which often meant that they were incorporated into the shows themselves.

Those who tipped a certain amount could request something or have their message read aloud, some used them as a way to allow users access to a poll that would dictate what the show giver would do. But the coins weren’t cheap. 100 coins was $10, with each hundred costing a further $10 until you reached the 1000 coins. Then it was $5 per hundred.

Before you’d gone onto the site, you would have never thought that camshows would have earnt much, but then you’d watched a few and discovered the almost obscene amounts of coins that viewers would buy and tip in an attempt to be noticed or get their host to do something. It was not unreasonable for the top shows to earn thousands of dollars per show if they were good.

And HopeWorld was very good.

He’d been on the site for 7 years now, so his profile said when you clicked on his username. His real name wasn’t given, just a pseudonym of Hope and the country he was from along with his age, 28. Oh, and his sexuality which was clearly listed as ‘Bisexual’.

His archived shows were also available via his profile, purchasable for 250 coins each or free for the premium members who paid an even higher fee to get even more privileges. There was also a range of photographs available to view for free; from selfies of him smiling sweetly to seductive poses that haunted your dreams.

Some of the cam-stars on BehindTheScene were versatile in what they did, never going for a specific genre. They would have sex with other men and women, or do solo shows to please people. Have their shows in the privacy of their room, or do risqué public shows that upped the ante.

Some of them chose to specialise in what they did, gaining a niche audience who lived for the shows that were put online. Girls who did solo masturbation shows with an array of colourful and unusual dildos, guys who jerked themselves off and submitted to their viewers through the use of coins to tell them what to do.

HopeWorld specialised in solo masturbation shows, only he used domination as his tool of pleasure for his viewers. You hadn’t understood how that could even work through a camshow until you’d seen his for the first time, and then you’d seen why he was so good.

He had a command of his voice and body that meant every subtle gesture, every tiny rise and fall in his voice was perfectly engineered to produce an answering response from his viewers. A slight narrowing of his eyes when one of his viewers became a little bratty or spent obscene amounts of money demanding him to do something let it be known that a punishment would follow.

Hope would get himself off on camera sure, but at his pace. He rarely followed orders from people who spent money to ask him to do stuff and he would be quite cutting and cruel sometimes to his viewers. Not in a way that crossed any lines, but more in a way that showed he would refuse to do what they asked simply because they paid.

It had boggled your mind when you first saw it, wondering why on earth people watched someone who refused to do what they were being paid money to do. Particularly given he encouraged people to pay, and on an entire system that relied on the patronage of viewers.

And yet...he was one of the most popular camboys on the whole site. Viewers went wild for his uncaring persona, for the sheer dominance in his voice when he sneered at the people who begged and pleaded for him to do what they wanted while simultaneously following his every order on the other end of their screen.

When he demanded they play with themselves, they would. When he told them to stop, even if they were at the very edge of their orgasm, they did so. And oh, would they beg him to let them orgasm, to find that sweet release at the end of their fingertips that was entirely controlled by his deep and seductive voice.

You had never considered that someone like him would do well, and yet he had his subscribers and viewers wrapped around him as well as those pretty fingers of his wrapped around his cock.

Yes, Hope was extraordinary and you’d been a loyal follower for years now.

There was something about the dominant persona of HopeWorld, the way he refused to bow to the pressures that buckled so many other cam-host’s over the years. He would take things under advisement sure, changing his shows up enough to keep interest but he had no interest in being at the mercy of his viewers.

And you loved it.

Which meant you were already beyond wet when he let out a low chuckle of amusement, the sound rough and almost grating in his throat as he lets his wet, pink tongue flick across the rich buds of his lips.

“So...how are we all today? I hope you've all been good while I was gone.” His voice is deep, rumbling from his chest with a slight rasp. It's something he obviously puts on because when he forgets himself during shows, it'll go a little higher with a tone more casual. It's still pleasing though and you’d happily listen to him read the phonebook if they still existed.

Unsurprisingly, silence meets him but his beautiful eyes are relaxed into happiness as they scan over the hundreds of comments that fly in the chatroom. A reverberating chuckle rumbles from his chest as he runs a finger along his lips, the corner worked up before he glances at the camera.

“How have I been? Oh...I don't know, just waiting for the next chance I had to see all of you.” Smooth, if a little cheesy. But it's a camshow and these people live for that stuff.

“Would I ever agree to the threesome over with GoldenBoy and ChrisChim? Well, they did ask me personally but I don't know...don't you think I'd be too much for them? And I thought we had a good thing going here? Or are you wanting me to expand?” He hums lightly, musing to himself.

The comments explode and Hope lets out a breath of a laugh as he reads them.

“You think it'd be hot? Wow, there's a lot of you who want to watch me have sex with someone hmm?” This is how his shows always begin, a little bit of teasing talk between him and his viewers while he waits for them to come in. It makes him feel a little more reachable; not just a bunch of pixels on your screen.

Lately, he's been getting more requests to mix up his shows. You'd have thought that he would be annoyed about it all. His speciality is solo, yet everyone seems desperate to watch him fuck someone on screen.

Not only that, but there seems to be a vocal minority that's growing to see him submit. Which is wild, as you've never seen a show with a single hint of that.

But it's what the viewers are increasingly wanting, and the unfortunate fact is that hosts are sometimes beholden to their viewers. He might one day do it if it would please them and increase his views.

His lips purse for a moment as he reads and considers, forming a tiny triangle and you coo softly at the screen. Normally you’re moaning or panting at him, but sometimes he acts cute without realising it and you can see the want to have him on his knees for the camera.

“Wow...so there’s a lot of you huh? Maybe...maybe I’ll think about it in the future. Keep an eye out if you all really want that...but for today I think we all need to get back to business, yes?” He leans back on the bed, revealing the long, slim line of his body and you instantly go hot, a spear of pleasure hitting your centre as you squeeze your thighs in response to the blatantly sexual way he holds himself.

His legs have dropped open, leaving a wide gap of space between them and giving the overwhelming aura of power and domination. It’s a classic move, and yet it works so well as he puts his weight on his hands on the bed, letting the viewers gaze up and down his body.

It works well because he’s showing everything he has, everything that you can look at but not touch. Your fingers ache to reach through the screen and unbutton his shirt, letting the soft material slip from his shoulders to pool around his wrists before they would dart to the waistband of his slacks.

You’d tug at them, letting the waistband shift him forward slightly before undoing them slowly, keeping eye contact with him the whole time until the zip is fully down and his cock presents itself to you through the opening created.

Yes, you’d love to undress him where he sits. Slowly, seductively until he’s trembling with anticipation and gasping with need.

Blinking rapidly, your brow raises at those thoughts and you can suddenly see why everyone wants to see him submit live on camera. He’d be glorious moaning under your fingertips, and your inner muscles convulse on nothing at the very idea of fucking him till he’s a writhing mess.

Lord, the idea of watching that would be hot as fuck.

In reality though, he’s still sat in the same position as he watches his screen, white teeth prevalent as he bites his lip while a brow quirks up. There’s already a slight tent forming in his pants, the tight material constricting what’s beneath and contorting them even further. It’s a basic human reaction, and you so desperately want him to reveal himself already.

"So what do we want today boys and girls?" He brings up one hand and holds three fingers up, the corner of his mouth tilting in a seductive smirk while his brow quirks. "Do we want daddy to make an appearance? Or are you feeling like Sir needs to come out? Or is it a Master kind of session again? Remember, as usual it's 100 coins to vote...500 to give me a specific request that I'll consider."

He’d already set the poll up while everyone had been discussing wanting to see him have sex on camera or submit, and it was running with votes coming in fast. This was how he made his money...people desperate to get their fantasy come to life today and some people desperate enough to spend even more to get a specific request in.

You’d felt sorry for them at first, and a little resentful of him for being manipulative. Until you’d realised that these people voluntarily wanted to part with their money in this way on people like him. And if they didn’t do it with him, then they’d just go to another show and do it there.

At the end of the day, he was the one getting naked and orgasming on camera for everyone else’s pleasure constantly. While he obviously enjoyed the voyeurism aspect of it, it would likely take a lot out of a person to do that. Some people were ostracised by their family, friends and work for doing stuff like this.

The money was a bonus for some camstars, but for others it was a lifeline.

Either way, the amount he always made sometimes made you contemplate whether you’d make a good camgirl or not. But then you’d immediately shy away from the thought. You were far too shy to be a solo camgirl. You’d need someone there to buoy you, give you the confidence that you struggled to gain yourself.

Hope shifts forward once again, rolling his neck and your breath stutters at the arousing sight of the long, elegant sweep of his throat. It’s perfectly smooth with not an inch marred, and you so desperately would love to suck a deep bruise into the sensitive skin there till he’s grunting in your ear.

“I’ll give it a few more minutes and then we’ll get this show started yeah?” He grins, the smile lighting his face up. It makes him look more boyish, yet at the same time the intensity in his eyes tells you that there’s nothing boy about him.

His whole backstory is a complete enigma to his viewers, given how little he says on his profile and the complete lack of information he gives in his shows. Literally the only thing viewers get to know about him is his age and the country he lives in, not his name, nor his normal profession. It seems to simultaneously appeal and frustrate his viewers.

The time he spends reading over comments and making conversations is also spent teasing his ever watchful crowd, a wandering hand roaming along his body slowly in all the areas you so desperately would love to touch.

A slight hitch in his breath gives away his actions and you note the way he’s pressing his palm to the crotch of his pants, lower lip teasingly bitten as those elegant eyes scan over the screen. Smirking, he finally leans back slightly before giving a soft laugh.

“Alright boys, girls and anyone else who’s here to enjoy. Let’s get this show on the road yeah? I’m afraid it’s not going to be a long one. I’ve had a tiring day.” He whispers before shifting on the bed, legs spreading once again while his hand trails down his body slowly.

“Have you all been good for Sir?” The obvious winner of the poll slips off his tongue with ease, and you watch as he slides into the persona just as easily. Each persona is slightly different to the next, and the Sir has always been one that doesn’t waste time.

Apt, given that he’s already stated that he won’t be doing a long show today.

He begins to roll up his sleeves, taking his time as the white material rolls back on itself until both forearms are visible. The skin is smooth and honeyed, the muscles beneath working as he clasps both hands back together to read some more comments.

His set up means the laptop is pretty close to him, but the camera is a little farther away to get the full effect. But he can still read his comments with ease.

“Now...I see lots of people saying that they’ve been very good but how do I know for a fact? Tell me what you’ve done, and for each comment I like...I’ll undo a button for you.” One eyebrow lifts up while he sucks his lower lip into his teeth, eyes dark for the camera.

The temptation to send your own comment in is overwhelming, but you stay away from the chat this time. Instead, you take in every tiny detail that you can see of him on the screen and simply admire the way he teases and plays with his audience.

Each viewer that gives him a satisfactory answer, such as someone getting a positive score on a college test or someone getting a new job, results in a button on his white shirt being loosened until soon enough...he’s got none left.

Instead, you’re graced with the beautiful image of his bare torso and you let out a soft whine to yourself at the sight of it. He’s a pretty lean guy, but the defined abdominal muscles lets you, and everyone else, know that he obviously works out and takes care of himself.

His chest is free of any hair, but there’s a tantalising trail that leads down to the waistband of his black pants and you want to desperately lick along there until you find his happy place. Because it would be his happy place if you got your mouth on him.

Hope knows this is what people want though, and he lets everyone have a few minutes to simply admire him as he slowly runs his hand along his stomach, tutting at a few unruly viewers who demand him to go faster.

“Demands make for sad viewers. Keep it up...and I’ll punish you.” His voice is ridiculously low as he murmurs out the threat. You know he’ll do it too, and it makes you clench your thighs at the rumbling bass that rolls through your speakers.

There’s one persistent viewer that doesn’t seem to be getting the rules, or maybe they’re just doing it on purpose. But either way, the demands for him to take off his pants become insistent to the point his eyes narrow in annoyance.

Slowly, and with his eyes focused on the camera, he begins to button up his shirt once again. Automatically you let out an expletive, annoyed at the viewer, and sure enough the others watching simultaneously beg him not to do it while berating the one causing him to put his foot down.

“Now, now. Don’t be mean everyone. Some people just need to learn the rules right? You get two minutes of nothing from me now. Do it again, and I’ll button up another and you get five of nothing. I said this wasn’t a long show...do you not want anything to happen?” He muses quietly, rubbing at his lower lip.

Sure enough, the chat explodes in begging and pleading. But he holds firm and there’s two whole minutes of nothing but him simply staring at the camera. After that’s up, he lets out a deep sigh before unbuttoning the final button once more.

“Now...are we going to play good?” You’re nodding your head in response, despite the fact he evidently can’t hear you. “Okay. Now...I got some good responses from you all. If you want me to take off these pants...then I need to hear why. Tell Sir why he should do that. What are you going to give him?”

A trick question obviously, because in reality they can give him nothing. But it’s not about that, you can guess that. It’s about giving him the allusion of power over his viewers. About them believing that he’ll do what they want if they ask him nicely enough.

“Oooh...some interesting answers here. But I think I like this one. Simple, but it gets me excited.” He grins, a heart shaped smile that’s so beautiful you can feel your heart swooping already. “I’d give Sir the prettiest moans. Not much to it, but you can’t deny there’s nothing sweeter than hearing a desperate moan sometimes.”

Sure enough, he follows through with his promise and slowly peels off his belt before unbuttoning the black pants. They drop to the floor almost silently and you can practically hear the stunned silence from the audience at the sight of him.

He’s not wearing any underwear, leaving his hard cock to bounce in the air slightly from being released. Hope isn’t hung like some of the guys on the site, nor is he as thick as some of them. But you’d certainly never complain.

Thick enough for his fingers to only just meet when he wraps them around the base, you feel yourself clenching as he gives himself an experimental stroke. It’s long and slow, and the prolonged eye contact he maintains with the camera makes it feel weirdly personal.

But that’s his specialty. Making every viewer feel like they’re the only one he’s entertaining.

“Like what you see?” He asks huskily, licking at his lip as he watches while his hand moves along his length. You’re nodding without even realising it, your own hand sliding down your body until it slips beneath your own clothing and your fingers find the hood of your clit with ease.

Slickness meets your fingers as you spread it over the engorged bundle of nerves, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you touch yourself in the way that you enjoy most. You’re not even really paying attention to what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way he sits back on the bed and continues to jerk himself in such delightful movements that have him gasping between words.

For a few minutes, you try to only circle your clit in time to his own strokes but you find yourself getting impatient and wanting to reach your ending sooner rather than later. He has far more patience than you have though, and he’s only just started to caress his cock at a faster rate while he purrs out pure filth to his audience.

A few comments are begging him for release already, no doubt riled up to the point of orgasm like you are and you find yourself hoping that he’ll have mercy today and let you all come. You’ve already begrudgingly removed your fingers from yourself twice in an effort to hold out your pleasure for even longer, edging yourself until it’s almost painful to pull away.

“Why should I let you all come? You were all begging me to last longer earlier. Are you wanting to come for yourselves? Are you almost there? All tight and desperate? Fingers aching? Hands clenching? Are you dying to be filled, or fill someone else? Are you imagining me fucking you? My cock driving into you, hips slamming into yours? Are you wet? Lubed up? Would it be loud? Messy? Would you whine for me?” His words come fast in a staccato manner, his own voice tense with strain as his hand works at himself faster.

People comment in droves, confirming his suspicions with some writing rather elaborate scenarios that you’re impressed at. They can’t be working themselves too hard if they can write that much.

Hope must think so too, reading a few with amusement before he lets out a deep groan at the pleasure he’s giving himself.

“I like your answers. I think you’ve been good for me today. So...I’ll be nice. You can cum. Cum for me. And I want you to moan my name while you do. Imaging cumming around my cock, tightening around me until all I can think about is you.” As he does so, your fingers work at yourself even harder and the ball of pleasure that’s ballooned in your stomach expands even more until you finally fall over that precipice.

A long moan leaves you as your hips circle desperately, fingers dancing over your clit to elongate out the intense orgasm until you can’t handle it anymore and you simply lay there, spent. Your legs fall to the side slightly, tingling from the sensation while your hearing goes a little fuzzy for a few seconds.

The phone lies on your chest; Hope’s moans and deep groans escaping from the small speakers and filling the room with lust and pleasure.

Despite the fact that you’ve just brought yourself to orgasm, your pussy tingling delightfully even if you feel horribly empty, you grasp the phone and look at the screen again. It’s just in time to see Hope’s head fall back, the beautiful line of his defined throat taking centre stage as his chest heaves, abdominal muscles prominent as he sucks in desperate breathes.

A final moan leaves him before his thighs clench and his hips jerk up into his hand. Thick, white cum paints his stomach as he orgasms finally, cock twitching in his hand as he works himself through his own orgasm. It’s so hot that you’re almost tempted to let your fingers play with your clit some more, but you feel far too tired and content for that.

Instead you just watch lazily as he finally finishes, his last few ejaculations simply leaking down the shaft of his cock and coating his hand as he squeezes out every last drop. Finally done, he looks back at the camera with a heady gaze before smirking tiredly, reading the comments.

“You all did good today. I’m sorry it was short, and it wasn’t very interesting. I’ll make it up to you next time. I want you all to do some good aftercare okay? Get a drink, take a shower, go to bed if it’s bedtime. Take care of yourself, however you like to. You’ll do that for me right?” His brow rises expectantly, only falling when he nods in satisfaction at the responses he gets.

“Good. Now...I’ll be saying goodbye. You were all wonderful and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Until next time.” And the screen goes black.

-

The silence in your room is deafening once he signs off, leaving you to lay on the bed and regain your breath as you stare up at the white ceiling. White sheets with cute star patterns cover your comforter and you stand up lazily, dropping your phone to the night stand before stretching out any kinks you may have caused from your attempts to gain your own pleasure.

Tugging your shirt off, you deposit it, your leggings and your soaked underwear into the clothing bin before rooting through your underwear drawer. A pair of comfortable boy shorts with a Hogwarts design are picked out carefully before you head into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and coming back out in only the underwear.

At this point, your boyfriend has made his way into the bedroom and has pulled back the covers, wearing a plain black shirt combined with grey sweatpants. He looks up at you, a brow raised as he looks over your mostly naked body with a smirk, the sight causing your nipples to peak already.

Rolling your eyes at him, you go into the closet and pull out a Star Wars shirt of his, letting it drop around your body and land just below the curve of your ass. Moving over to the bed, you climb in next to him as he sighs heavily, eyes closing.

“That was a good show.” You say quietly, tiredness lacing every word and he lets out a soft laugh. The bed jolts as he shifts onto his side, shuffling closer to you until he has you pressed against his front and his arm wraps around your waist.

“Yeah? You watch it?” Nodding slowly, your nose is pressed to the smooth skin of his collarbone and you inhale his scent deeply. He smells like the peach of his shower gel and the clean scent of his shampoo, an underlying smell that’s entirely him making your body relax and feel at peace.

He presses his own nose into your hair, his lips curving into a smile that you feel against your forehead before he’s pushing them into a kiss against your skin. It’s soft and filled with love and gratitude for you supporting him.

What his viewers don’t know, is that HopeWorld is one Jung Hoseok. Your boyfriend of six years. You’d both started dating in your last year of college, having known each other since the beginning when your mutual friend, Jimin, had introduced you both.

That acquaintance has turned into a warm friendship, filled with underlying admiration which turned into desire and lust over the years. A one night stand after a few drinks had resulted in you both waking up one morning in his bed, wide eyed at the fact your circumstances had changed so abruptly.

You would have been willing to take on the mantle of Hoseok’s girlfriend eagerly at that point, but he’d been slightly reluctant. Not because he didn’t like you, he’d assured you plenty that he was pretty sure that he was in love with you actually, but because of something else.

Something he wasn’t sure you would approve of, or want in a boyfriend.

And that was when he’d introduced you to BehindTheScene, carefully explaining what he did and the fact that it was not only helpful to his funds but that he actually enjoyed it. His love for you had overridden it though, and after showing you what he did he’d given you the option of asking him to stop.

He would’ve done it too. Put his camboy career out to pasture at your request, choosing you over his love of performing for a willing crowd.

You’d gone home with thoughts whirring in your head, an instinctual part of you influenced by society telling you that you were disgusted with the idea. But an overwhelming part of you was curious.

He’d told you as you left, decision unmade, that he would be doing a show tonight and you could watch if you’d wanted. Carefully, shyly, you’d made an account and clicked on his name when he’d gone live.

What you’d seen had you embarrassed at first, cheeks heating but your body heated even further with something more. Something primal that told you that you wanted this man more than you had before.

You’d gone to his the next morning and told him that he could keep doing the shows, as long as he never did a sex show with someone else. Solo shows were fine, a fantasy that you could indulge in as you listened to his words and imagined him fucking you with each luxurious and rich word that dripped from his mouth.

But shows with other people? No way. That was not acceptable.

He’d accepted your terms eagerly, happily. The happiness in his face at not having to give up something he so obviously enjoyed and loved had made you realise that you’d made the right decision regarding this. You may not have understood it fully, but you understood his happiness.

The few friends of yours that had found out about his shows over the years had been confused as to why you were so accepting of them. How could you let your boyfriend jerk himself off on camera for the pleasures of thousands of people? How could you let him say those kinds of things to faceless people, the kinds of things he should only whisper to you in the heat of the moment?

Every time though, you’d simply said that it was what he wanted. It didn’t impact on your life, because he wasn’t doing anything physically with anyone else. He wasn’t messaging other girls or guys, he wasn’t sleeping with them or any of that kind of stuff. He was sat in a room in your house, getting himself off to a camera. There just happened to be people watching.

You would rather he do that openly with you than feel the need to do something secret, feeling pressured or unhappy. Hoseok’s camshows made him happy in a way you couldn’t, providing him with confidence and satisfaction that benefited you greatly. It didn’t make your sex life bad, if anything your sex life was phenomenal.

Hoseok would often get so turned on during his shows, the thoughts running through his mind about things he’d like to do to you, that by the time his show had finished, he’d be hard again and coming to you for seconds. You were the one who got to experience all the things he whispered to his viewers, you were the one who got to feel him inside you as he chased his orgasm, skin soaked with sweat while whines left his throat as he pushed through the oversensitivity.

Not only that, you enjoyed watching his shows too. And he knew that you watched them sometimes, providing an extra turn on for him. He’d told you once that he imagined you were watching them everytime, and that he would say things specifically with the aim of getting you off or turning you on.

If you orgasmed, it was a bonus for him.

And besides all of this, Hoseok’s camshows brought in a ridiculous amount of money. His normal dayjob was as a freelance web and graphic designer, often going to his friends workplaces to work but also spending a large amount of time in his home office.

It was reasonably well paid work, but it didn’t matter at all. He brought in so much money from his shows over the years that he’d been able to contribute towards your house easily with a huge savings account in turn. He had no student debt, he’d bought his car outright and the money he’d put towards the house had meant the mortgage was much smaller than it would have been.

Quite frankly, Hoseok was loaded from careful saving and even more careful planning with his shows. Your salary was nothing in comparison, a meagre amount from your generic office job that was used to pay half of the bills.

But the most important thing to you, was that he finished his shows and came to you with his bright smile and a happy, relaxed demeanor. Just as he supported you with your gaming habits, even if he had no idea what the hell you rambled on about, you supported him with his.

It just meant his ended up with his dick in his hand and cum everywhere.

“Your viewers seem to be becoming more insistent about a sex show.” You muse quietly in his arms, taking solace in the feel of him in the quietness of the room. Six years together, five of them physically living together, had produced a relationship that was solid in its silence, relaxed in its love.

Hoseok lets out a hum of contemplation, shifting slightly to push a knee between your own legs before pushing his face into the pillow more. “Hmm, I know. I don’t really know how to go about it because I obviously can’t do it. But if they keep getting insistent, then there’s a chance they’ll leave if they don’t get what they want.”

He sighs heavily at this, his chest expanding and deflating against your own. Bringing a hand up, you rub at his chest reassuringly, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone in a comforting move.

“You don’t have to do what they want, you know that. It’s your show, not theirs. And you’ve been there a while now. You’ve got loyal viewers who won’t abandon you.” Hoseok sighs in response, not saying anything and you know that it’s bothering him.

The comments have become more frequent lately, his viewer base becoming more frustrated. It didn’t help when Jungkook and Jimin, the little shits, kept offering to have him on one of their shows or a threesome if he wanted it.

The two had begun doing their own shows after finding out Hoseok did it, fascinated with a whole world they hadn’t known about. They were even more popular than Hoseok, with their innocent faces and dirty words.

Both did solo shows, but they also had sex shows with each other that appealed to a wide range of people. Taehyung, Jungkook’s boyfriend, was apparently okay with the whole thing and you were more than a little mind boggled at that. Which made you feel hypocritical, because obviously some people’s relationships were just like that.

If Taehyung was okay with his boyfriend having sex with his best friend live on camera, then that was his prerogative. But the very idea of Hoseok doing that made you intensely unhappy.

Unsurprisingly, Hoseok had turned down every invitation they’d given him. They’d promised not to do it anymore after they’d offered again on their show last week, the invitation casually spoken as they’d read the comments once they’d finished, skin glowing with sweat.

Hoseok had got angry at them, shouting at them for once and terrifying everyone. He didn’t get angry. He didn’t even get annoyed half the time. But it had set him off, everything just merging together at the wrong moment until he’d blown up on them both.

His show hadn’t gone well that day as his viewers had constantly been asking about the invitation, leading to him being a little more intense and biting than usual. It had made for a wonderful show watching him, as he’d held off his orgasm longer and longer through edging as a punishment for all the questions and his viewers had to suffer for longer too.

He had a whole game with them at this point, where they would push themselves to orgasm only when he did. It meant that he would edge them for a whole hour sometimes, his own cock leaking profusely by the end, his tip red and angry from the wait.

That day, he’d gotten so pissed off that he’d ended the show abruptly. His orgasm had come in a flood, a moan escaping his mouth as his head fell back and he came far earlier than he would’ve. He’d only been going for fifteen minutes, and his viewers had been shocked by the suddenness.

“I wish they wouldn’t. How do I tell them ‘oh hey, I don’t do sex shows because I have a girlfriend that I love very much and I have zero interest in ruining that just for you all to get off’?” He queried, tiredness in him. You wondered if he was getting tired of this whole thing by now, his viewers becoming more unruly as time passed.

Love blossomed in your stomach at his words though, appreciating his steadfast refusal to give in to them because it would mean cheating on you. A thought you’d had while watching him earlier appears back in your mind and you muse on it quietly.

It’s something you’d thought about more and more recently, and you wondered what his thoughts on it would be. Finally, you decide to just put it out there in the open and see what his thoughts actually are. You could have got him completely wrong.

“What about if you do a sex show?” The words are quiet, yet in the silence of the room they’re astoundingly loud. Hoseok doesn’t do anything for a moment before pulling back, looking at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“What? What do you mean? I’m not cheating on you! I don’t want to have sex with someone else.” His protest is outspoken, genuine panic and unhappiness in his voice as his eyes scan you over.

It makes you feel good, bizarrely, at the way he protests against the idea of having sex with someone else. Combined with his sincere emotions at it, you smile and shift your head to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

He kisses back automatically, but when you pull away, you spot the way his lips turn down. The idea of that is genuinely upsetting to him, and you frown as your hand strokes along his side gently.

“I don’t mean have sex with someone else.” The words are out now, and he takes a moment for them to process before his eyes widen once more. Only now they’re in a different kind of shock, a hint of interest in them letting you know that maybe he’ll agree.

“What? Wait...what? You? You’d do a show with me? But I thought you didn’t want to do anything like that?” The words fall from his lips quickly, but you feel the way his fingers tighten around you.

No doubt there are images running through his mind right now; you on top of him, riding him to completion. Him kneeling before you, thrusting into your pussy with confident, hard strokes that have you whimpering and quivering before him till he has you crying out his name. All the while, a camera records every movement, every sound from you both and sends it out to thousands of viewers worldwide.

Your breath hitches at that thought, hips squirming against the mattress and his eyebrow rises slowly as your thigh squeeze around his own involuntarily. Slowly, an incredulous smile spreads over his face as he looks at you with intrigue.

“Holy shit. You’re turned on at the thought of that huh? Would you really be okay with that? I mean...you’ve never shown interest in it before?” He’s certainly interested though, and you let out a huff of laughter at the sudden semi he’s sporting against your stomach. 28 years old and yet the refractory time of a teenager on occasion.

“Well...I’m so used to seeing you do it now. And I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t know, the idea of it is...attractive I guess? Just...having you and knowing that there are thousands of people watching who would die to be in my place.” Hoseok laughs at that, pushing slightly until he’s rolling on top of you and your back hits the bed.

He kisses along your neck slowly, sweet kisses that speak of love and trust even as he slowly grinds his hips into yours. “You already have me. Many times. In many ways. In ways they’ve never seen.”

“That’s another thing. I think I’d want you to submit to me.” Hoseok pauses at that, pulling back once more to stare at you with a carefully blank face. His lips are wet from the assault he’d begun on your neck, and you reach up to trace along his lower lip slowly before pressing down on it until he opens his mouth for you.

Slipping your finger inside, you bite your own lip at the feel of his heated, wet tongue as you play with him before stroking along his cheek, letting his own saliva cause a trail that shines along his golden skin in the soft light of the lamp.

“You want me to submit to you?” His words are careful, slow and full of consideration as his eyes narrow slightly, looking over every micro-expression on your face. A coy look takes over your own as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers trailing lovingly while you move your legs.

There’s a moment for realisation in his eyes before you’re pushing hard at him, causing him to rock backwards and end up on his own back. He lets you obviously; something you’d long ago learnt was that you can’t move him unless he wants to move. But he’s too intrigued by this idea to start any arguments right now, and instead his hands move to rest against your hips.

“Yeah. You’re used to it. And I’ve seen all the comments. People want to see what the mighty HopeWorld would look like on his knees. Who better to do that than your own girlfriend? You trust me, you know that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and you wouldn’t sleep with anyone else on camera.” Fingers get brought down on your hand as you reason with him, the slightest rocking of your hips causing your core to brush against his hard on.

Each touch has his hands twitching while his breath hitches, but his eyes remain focused solely on you. HopeWorld is a master of seduction, a dominating persona that doesn’t take any crap from anyone.

Jung Hoseok, on the other hand, is a switch who leans more to the dominant side. The two of you usually just have normal, pretty vanilla sex but you both enjoy engaging in the kinkier aspects every now and again. And while Hoseok enjoys dominating you, he also likes being dominated in turn on occasion.

Which is probably why his pupils expand in lust at the thought of you making him submit on camera, allowing himself to be vulnerable in the capable hands of the person he trusts most.

Running your hands down his clothed chest slowly, you reach his waistband and run your fingers along the inside slowly. He swallows thickly, tongue wetting his lips as he lets out a pant before his eyes eyes glance down to where your hands are.

“Really? You’d really want that?”

Smiling, you lean down and kiss him deeply, tongues exploring each other before pulling away and gripping his blonde hair tightly at the dark roots, keeping his head firmly against the pillow as he tries to follow your mouth. Grinning, you nod.

“I mean...we need to work stuff out obviously. And we need to check that your audience actually wants that. But...it gets me hot thinking about it. It’s obviously getting you horny.” You whisper against his lips, grinding your hips harder against his erect cock and causing him to whimper gently. Your fresh underwear is soaked through again, but you don’t care as you enjoy the relief the friction against him gives you.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll think about it further later and all that. Please fuck me.” He gasps out, eyes clenched closed while his jaw tenses, revealing the delightful line of his throat and his sculpted jawline.

Smiling, you move down to suck an open kiss into his throat harshly, marring his skin just how you’d wanted to while watching his show while letting out an approving noise. “With pleasure.”

-

A few weeks pass by since your suggestion to him, the time creeping past in its usual ways. Your own job was not exactly the most mentally stimulating, but you were steadily working your way up the career ladder with a clear goal in sight. It may not be amazing, but it was providing you with the experience you needed for what you really wanted to do.

Hoseok had been busy with an influx of projects, spending a lot of his waking time glued to his laptop and computer screen as he designed graphics for companies and created beautiful websites for others. His speciality tended to reside mostly in working with smaller companies, tending to their every needs and providing a lot of after completion support that involved tinkering with their sites if necessary.

While he loved what he did, you knew that it was tiring for him. The last two weeks had involved you having to practically pull him away from his computer in order to get him to eat and sleep. Needless to say, his shows had unfortunately taken a backseat and he’d had to put a notice out on his channel that they may be sporadic for the next month or so.

Which was you’d taken the day off today and begged him to take a day off too. You knew that his work didn’t run like yours did, but the dark circles under his eyes and his increasingly paler skin made worry run rampant in you. He was running himself into the ground in his attempt to get everything finished within his deadlines and you wished desperately that he would take your advice and hire Jungkook as an assistant.

Of course, he would point out that he couldn’t afford an assistant but you were sure he could work something out. There was too much work for one person, and you knew he’d always harboured a hope of creating his own creative agency that specialised in web based design.

But Hoseok was stubborn, and he often had to be run to the point of collapse before accepting change or something new. And while you didn’t appreciate his method of coping with things, you knew that you had to make everything else in his life as comfortable as you could.

He did it for you after all. When you had your nervous breakdown in your old job from too much stress and anxiety, Hoseok had been there for you. He’d been the one shouldering your pain and tears, rubbing your back and kissing your head. Being a pillar of strength for you. So of course, you did the same back.

And you knew that Hoseok knew what you were doing today. He wouldn’t have agreed to it if he didn’t, and you were happy that he was letting you coddle him today. It was time to just be you and him, no jobs or work involved.

As such, you were currently driving to the coast for what you were hoping was going to be a day of fun for the two of you. The skies were blue and the breeze was warm, giving you a good feeling for what the beach was going to be like.

Looking over at Hoseok, you smile softly as you note him sleeping with his head against the window. How he’s managing that when you have no doubt his head is vibrating furiously against the glass, you don’t know. But then again, you do know. He’s just been that tired.

He sleeps the whole way there and by the time you park up, facing the crystal blue sea, you can even hear the soft snores that escape him. Hoseok isn’t normally someone who snores, but you guess the position he’s in is making it more obvious.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, you shift over to look at him. His newly dyed dark hair gleams in the light that makes its way through the window, his skin a shade paler than it normally is. He hasn’t spent a whole lot of time outside, and you desperately hope that it makes him a little happier and stress free.

A white t-shirt sits on his torso, slightly baggy while denim shorts let his toned legs be seen to the world. Which is a good thing, because he has damn good looking legs. He shifts slightly in his sleep, arms crossed over and shoulders hunching a little closer while his tongue licks at his lips, a quiet murmur leaving him and you laugh lightly.

Reaching over, you stroke through his hair repeatedly and enjoy the softness of it against your fingers. Hoseok likes having his hair played with and it’s always one of the quickest ways to relax him and get him to sleep. It’s also one of the best ways to wake him gently, bizarrely.

Sure enough, a quiet rumbling from his chest lets you know that he’s waking up before he’s blinking slowly, squinting in the light. Yawning loudly, he stretches out as far as he can in the car seat before looking at you quietly, lips pouted ever so slightly.

His face is swollen with sleep, eyes puffy and cheeks rounded. Everyone told you that as time passed, the excitement of your relationship with him would disappear and you’d just be left a quiet and serene love.

They lied, because as you watch your sleepy boyfriend come back to consciousness properly, you feel a fizz of excitement and happiness bubble in your stomach. Six years together, and he still makes you feel young.

“Are we here?” He asks, voice crackling before he coughs to clear his throat. Laughing lightly, you open your door and get out, dipping back down to look at him with a brow raised.

“I hope so. Otherwise I’ve found a really large expanse of previously unseen water.” You tease, closing the door before pulling out the blanket and food you’d prepared this morning. Hoseok grumbles quietly as he gets out of the car too, standing with his arms resting against the warm roof.

“Ha ha, funny. I see why I started dating you now, a real comedian.” He says, reaching into the glove box to pull out a pair of sunglasses and sliding them on. Walking around to the front of the car, he takes the food and bag from you before clasping your hand in his own, fingers twining together.

“You’re always so grumpy when you wake up, you know that?” Hoseok lets out a grunt before quickly leaning down and kissing your lips, pulling away before you can do anything. A noise of protest leaves your mouth as you reach the sandy shoreline, kicking your shoes off while Hoseok just strides out onto the hot sand, tugging you along.

“At least use some chewing gum after you’ve slept for an hour! I don’t want to taste sleep breath.” Looking up and down the beach, Hoseok decides the spot you’re at is perfect and lets go of your hand to lay the blanket out.

It’s only once he’s knelt down on the soft material, kicking his own shoes off that he looks back up at you with a brow raised above his shades. “You never mind when I kiss you in the morning before we’re about to fuck.”

“Hoseok!” You whisper shout, looking around in embarrassment even though there’s no one near you. He chuckles and pulls you down with him, wrapping an arm around your waist before kissing your cheek sweetly.

“What? There’s no one here and you know I don’t mind an audience.” Leaning away from him, you scan over his face and feel a small sense of relief run through you as you can already see the stress and strain practically vanishing from his face.

“I thought I said we weren’t talking about work today?” You ask, reaching into the bag and pulling out some sandwiches you’d made. Handing him the ham, cheese, bacon and salad that you’d prepared especially for him, the two of you eat in silence for a moment as you simply enjoy the gentle, cool breeze rolling off the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing on the white beach.

“That’s not work. You know that.” He says quietly, playing with the crust of his sandwich. From the concentrated look on his face, you’re pretty sure he has something on his mind and you wonder what it is.

Reaching out, you run your thumb along his cheek gently and smile when he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, his brows creasing together slightly. “Hey...what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, just enjoying the feel of your hand on his face and you don’t feel the need to pressure him. You know Hoseok will tell you when he’s ready, and you’ll be here when he is.

Thankfully though, it doesn’t take too long for him to open up again. It had been a struggle to get him to be open with you in the first few years of your relationship. You’d joked that the US Federal Reserve had a vault that was weaker than Hoseok, because he just didn’t let people into the deepest areas of him.

Until he’d finally trusted you enough to crack open his walls and let you slip inside.

“You know that you said you’d do a show with me?” His voice is quiet, deeper than it usually is due to his lower tone. You actually feel a little unnerved, frowning slightly as you acknowledge his question quietly.

Hoseok tears the crust into tiny pieces before swallowing and letting the handful fall onto the blue patterned blanket. “I wanna do it. I’ve already done polls and...people want it. So...I want to do it if you’re comfortable with it.”

“If you’re okay with me being on your show then...yeah. I mean...I want a mask because I don’t want my face seen and I don’t know if I want to be naked because I don’t know if I can handle those negative remarks but...yeah. It’ll be an experience.” You laugh softly, pressing yourself into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Hey! You’re beautiful, there’s nothing wrong with your body and everyone should feel privileged to see it.” The defense in his voice for you has you smiling brightly, pushing at him until he rocks to the side. His arm lifts and pulls you into him closer, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“You’re still tense though. So what else are you thinking?”

He lets out a soft breathy laugh, head falling forward. “Can’t hide anything huh? I think...I want that to be my last show. Go out with a bang.”

His words fall into silence, shocked from your side and waiting in anticipation on his. Pulling away from him, you scan over his face with wide and shocked eyes. Hoseok just watches you back quietly, his sunglasses pushed up and keeping his hair away from his face. He looks slightly unsure of himself, like he doesn’t know if he’s said the right thing.

“Really? You...want to quit that?” He chews on his lip for a little bit before nodding, taking your hand and playing with your fingers silently.

“Yeah. I...yeah I do. I’ve enjoyed it over the years, and it makes me feel good but...I think it’s time. I’ve done it for seven years and I have no reason to keep doing it anymore. I’ve saved plenty of money from it and I just feel like this is the right time to end it all.” You’re not sure what to think, as this sounds like it’s come from nowhere and yet he sounds like he’s thought it through.

“But why? You love doing it. It’s not because of me or anything right? You know that I’m not bothered about it. And your fans will stay with you, even if you have a sex show.” He smiles endearingly at you, moving forward till he’s kissing you. It’s short and sweet, pulling away before you can even do anything more.

“I know that. I know all that. But...I want to quit. For me. I started doing it as a way to earn some money and gain some confidence. I have that confidence now and I have more than enough money. You keep saying that I should hire Jungkook as an assistant and...you’re right. I have too much work...which is why I’m going to finally do it. Start the company. I can’t do that and still be a camboy.” It all sounds logical to you, and you can see now why he’s been reducing the number of shows he’s been doing over the last few months.

Slowly pulling away from people so they’re less shocked when he leaves finally.

“You’re going to do it then? Finally start the Jung Company?” You’re grinning brightly at him, lips pulled in a smile so wide in dual excitement and pride for him. His degree had been a dual business management and web design course, so he hopefully had everything he needed.

“Well first of all, it’s not the Jung Company. Hope Design, or something like that. I dunno, marketing is not my strongest area. Despite it technically being my area,” He contradicts himself, frowning slightly as it registers before he nods. “Anyway. Yeah. I’m gonna do it. Web and graphic design...full time. Take on more clients, make it a full time job. Hire people when necessary. It means I get to do what I always wanted...and I get to spend more time with you. And you have me to yourself.”

“Hey, I was never bothered about that.” You say, resting your hand on his stomach as you kiss his cheek. He smiles and kisses you again, a little longer than before.

“I know. But that’s another thing. I want to spend more time with you. I want to...be more with you and I don’t feel comfortable doing sex shows with what I want. If...you agree with me then I don’t think it would be fair of me to take time out to do them, nor would I feel comfortable.” You’re frowning now, wondering what he’s on about here. You’ve always made it clear that he was doing them before he started dating you, and you’d given him implicit permission to continue.

Taking in your confused face, he lets out a quiet laugh and runs a hand over his own. A quiet groan leaves him. “Ah Hoseok, you’re fucking this up.”

Turning, he lets go of your hand and reaches into his pocket before pulling out a small box. Almost immediately your eyes widen as he hands it to you with a tentative smile, hands shaking the whole time.

“Hoseok...is this…” Your voice trails off as you open it and see the beautiful ring inside. It’s silver, probably platinum, and has one beautiful diamond in the centre with two smaller pink diamonds on either side and two even smaller, clear diamonds on either side of those. For an engagement ring, it is neither ostentatious nor simple and you love it.

Almost immediately you’re looking at him through watery eyes, throat closing in on itself as he smiles through his obvious nerves. “Will you marry me?”

You can’t even get the words out a you nod repeatedly, tears slipping down your cheeks as he lets out a loud laugh before slipping the ring onto your finger. Almost immediately, you’re engulfed in his arms as he hugs you so tightly, pressing his face into your neck as you both rock from side to side.

“That’s the other reason I want to quit. Because I swore to myself that I’d stop when I got married. I want to marry you, and then I want to have babies with you and all that good stuff. And when I imagine that life, I don’t see those shows in it. That’s our life, not anyone else’s.” You sniff almost pathetically as you look down at the ring before looking back at him. He looks sincere, his eyes filled with love for you and you swallow thickly.

“You know I wouldn’t stop you doing it if you still wanted to. You know that right?” You ask quietly, imploring him to know that you really would be okay with it. For now at least, but you understand where he’s coming from.

“I know. I know you’d support almost any decision I made. But this is what I want. It always had to end at some time. So I want to do one last show where I show the world you for the first and last time, before stopping it. And then I want to make a company we can be proud of, and a family that we can love. I’m tired of jacking off on camera babe. Call me old at 28 but, I want the only person to see me like be you. So are you okay with that? Marrying me? Having sex with me on camera once?” He wiggles his brows at that and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing him deeply.

When you pull away, you’re both breathing a little quicker and heavier than before but it doesn’t stop you from kissing the tip of his nose. “I was already willing to have sex with you on camera. Marrying you is just the icing on the cake.”

He smirks at that. “You can have your cake and eat it. Though not right now, because right now I want to throw you in the sea.”

And with that, he heaves you both up before running down the beach with you in his arms, ignoring the ear-splitting shrieks that come from you and he deposits you both into the salty ocean.

-

It’s a week later that Hoseok finally decides to end it, announcing via his Twitter that the show he’ll be performing tonight will be his last ever. Understandably, there are many of his fans who are angry and shocked that he’s ending his camming career, but there’s plenty who give him support and encouragement.

He’d announced it via an open letter to all his fans and loyal viewers, one that he’d written carefully over the week before decreeing it perfect and deciding that it was the perfect way to end it. There was no explicit reasoning for his decision, only that his personal life had become so important to him that he didn’t feel comfortable carrying on with his camshow persona any longer.

And so HopeWorld would be officially closing tonight. His final show would not be saved, and all his previous shows would be deleted along with his profile. Only those who had bought and downloaded them would be able to continue enjoying them.

Hoseok had decided that he was done with the camshow world, and that meant he didn’t want his material out there unless it had already been downloaded. A clean slate for him, and for you too.

Despite how accepting you had been of his request to join him on his last show, perhaps understandably you’d ended up with some pre-show jitters. Whereas Hoseok had gained in confidence throughout his camshow career, the idea of putting your body on show was suddenly nerve wracking.

There were different expectations placed on women, and you’d slowly gotten to the point that you were half of a mind to back out. Which was why Hoseok had paused in his preparations for the stream to sit you down on the bed and console you.

He was dressed to impress as usual, black jeans that clung to his legs and ensured nothing stayed hidden while he had a white button up shirt on. Hoseok liked those as it meant he got to tease the viewers for longer unbuttoning it all, but you just liked it because it emphasised everything hot about him.

From his slim shoulders to his firm waist, his golden skin to the delightful sculpted hollows of his collarbones. Honestly, it’s a wonder you’ve never come in here and jumped him halfway through a show before.

But today you’d had some input on his wardrobe, particularly given that it was going to be your show. As such, he had a leather collar wrapped around his neck that contrasted beautifully against the movements of his throat. He’d worn them on occasion before on his shows, just to entice people with the possibility of something they weren’t getting.

This time though, you were actually going to use it and just the sight of it on your delightfully attractive fiancé was enough to make you shiver. There was always something hot about seeing him submit to you, and despite your misgivings you were excited to let his viewers see that for their final view.

Despite your eagerness for that, and also for him to rearrange your guts live on camera, the crippling insecurities that came with stuff like this were dampening your mood. And Hoseok had noticed, given how carefully he paid attention to you.

“Are you okay? You don’t have to do this, it’s up to you. You know that right? I’d never make you do anything that you don’t want to.” His voice is low and calming, expression concerned while the back of his knuckles runs along your arm in slow movements. It’s not a lot, but it’s surprising how comforting it feels to you.

For a second, you go to lie to him before deciding to be honest and shrugging slightly. “What if they don’t like me? Or like...think I’m fat or that I look funny down…” The words trail off in your embarrassment and worry.

“Woah woah, okay firstly. I don’t care if they don’t like you, and neither should you because they’re never going to see you again after this one show. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, you know that right? And I’m not saying that just because I’m marrying you, you really are. Secondly, you’re not fat and you look perfectly fine. I swear. Please don’t worry about things like this because if you start now, then it’ll fester and get worse in your head. You are perfect as you are. If you think you can’t do this then just let me know and we don’t, I don’t mind. I’d rather not have you in the show than have you end up with crippling insecurities, okay?” Hoseok states insistently, moving his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to him.

You let him practically baby you for a few minutes, letting him soothe over any of your worries because it feels good to have him reassure you. A little selfish perhaps, but you were about to get naked on a livestream with him. You needed the assurance from him that all was going to be well, even if he couldn’t actually promise that.

Hoseok had your implicit trust and love, so you had to trust and love that he would keep an eye on things.

“Do you still want to?” He asks quietly, pressing his lips to your temple and letting them rest there for a moment, warm breath tickling the finer hairs along your skin. It’s intimate and comforting, the scent of him so close and his presence so calming. There’s little wonder you fell for him all those years ago, his sweet smile drawing you in and everything else just solidifying him as the perfect man for you.

A myriad of emotions runs through you though as you think through his words, your hands self-consciously coming to cover up the bits of you that you always feel a bit more wobbly than they should be. The areas that make you feel a little anxious when you think of thousands of people getting to see them in HD glory.

Hoseok’s hands move down to where yours are, and it’s only when he slips his underneath your own to stroke at the soft, vulnerable skin there that you realise you’d been clawing at it. Subconsciously unhappy.

“I don’t want you to do this if it’s going to be negative on your health. I love you, I love everything about you but I don’t want you to push yourself to do something for me if you’re not happy.” His words are quiet against your skin, murmured almost but you feel them to your very core as his fingers gently move against the parts of you that you’ve struggled with, with not an ounce of disgust on his face or in his words.

“I want to. I want to still do this. I just...it’s scary.” The words a little more soft than you’d have liked them to be, almost whimpered out like a child. It makes Hoseok chuckle quietly, not laughing at you but the way you’d said it, before he wraps his arms around you completely.

“I know, I still get a little nervous. But you’ll be great. We’ve prepped for everything, and I am beyond excited to introduce everyone to the woman who owns my body, heart and soul.” He says seriously, squishing you to him.

You can’t help but snort at his words. “You can keep that cheesiness though, that’s solely yours. And you’re just excited to get laid, you’re already hard.”

The thick erection currently pressed to your stomach means Hoseok can’t argue back, so instead he just pushes it further against you. A quiet gasped moan leaves his mouth as he does so, the friction from the action pleasurable against his sensitive member.

You’d both prepared earlier for the show to make sure it was seamless and easy. Which meant that you were both in your outfits, a matching dark green and black lace lingerie set for you with suspenders holding up some delightfully sexy stockings that had made Hoseok whimper to himself when he’d seen the whole outfit.

Green was his favourite colour after all.

It had also extended to prepping each other sexually, with enough foreplay to get him raring to go while you were pretty positive he could slide straight in if he wanted to. The toy that you were going to be using, along with a bottle of lube, were hidden out of sight so as not to give anything away to the intrigued audience.

Everything was ready to go...all Hoseok had to do was start filming.

Pushing him down till he’s sitting back on the bed, you bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair slowly before rearranging back into the style he’d managed to get it into earlier on. Your new fiancé was incredibly attractive and you knew that you’d really won the life lottery with him.

“Okay...let’s do this. Bring out Hope.” Hoseok doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you closely with those beautiful dark eyes of his. It felt like he was looking deeply into you, trying to assess whether you were truly comfortable with this.

Slowly, he nods before his hands squeeze on your hips, pulling you a little closer to him before he presses a soft kiss to the skin between your breasts. It’s surprisingly non-sexual for the area, but instead it just feels like he’s comforting you.

And as you stand back, moving into the corner away from the glare of the camera, you acknowledge that he probably was. If you give him any signal tonight that you’re not happy, then he’ll stop. Even if it is his last show.

The next ten minutes are spent with Hoseok setting everything up properly with the camera and making sure everything’s working before the light is red and he’s sat back in his usual position on the bed. A brow is raised almost arrogantly as he waits for the viewers to come in.

From your position, you’ve got access to your own laptop and you can watch his page as they rush in. His shows normally bring in a good few thousand viewers at their peak, sometimes hitting 10k. But the news about this being his last show must have spread like wildfire because he’s only been live for a few minutes and he already has half that.

Yes, HopeWorld was certainly going to go out with a bang.

After 10 minutes of waiting around and idle chatter between Hoseok and his loyal viewers, he finally decides to get it going. A quick glance over to you gets your approval before he’s shifting forward, elbows resting on his knees before he smirks at the camera.

“So...I’m going to get straight to the point here. From the large viewer count, which I think has beaten my all-time record, I’m guessing that everyone knows this is my last show before HopeWorld closes its doors for the last time,” He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering over the comments before grinning brightly. “Aaaawwwww.”

The sound is teasing and not even slightly sympathetic, his every moment over exaggerated before he’s smiling back at the screen, tongue running along his white teeth slowly. “Yep, last one. And this is going to be different. Not just because of it being the last. But there’s always been something that people wanted from me and it just didn’t fit at the time. Given it’s my last show...I thought I’d do something different for you all. Go out with a bang.”

His grin turns mischievous as his brow wiggles enticingly, eyes darting over to you once more. “Tonight...Hope is going to retire. But I’m not going to be your Hope for most of the show.”

At that, you take a deep and fortifying breath before clenching your fists to try and calm your racing nerves. This is everything you’d fantasised about whenever you’d watched his shows, and yet now you’re so nervous and worried.

But the tiniest tilt of his head towards you gives you the courage to paint a mysterious smile on your face before you saunter into view. Along with your delightfully sexy lingerie, you also have a pair of sky high heels that cause you to tower over Hoseok for once.

He looks at you slowly, his pupils blown out already as his wet lips part, breath coming faster already in anticipation of your touch. Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair before gripping the back of his collar and tugging at it.

It jerks his head back until his eyes lock onto yours at an awkward angle, a look of pure and utter submission on his face as every inch of his body relaxes into your grip. “He’s going to be mine, aren’t you?”

You’ve lowered the tone of your voice until it’s low and smooth like butter with enough of a hint of husk to make Hoseok shiver. He doesn’t respond for a moment and your fingers tightened on his hair until he lets out the softest whimper.

It’s nothing impressive as a sound, barely heard in the room despite the quiet, but you know damn well that his viewers likely just almost brought themselves to orgasm just from that one syllable.

Because Hope has never once whimpered in submission, nor has he ever looked like this. So powerless under your hands.

Honestly, as much as you love being dominated and sobbing out his name, you don’t think he’s ever looked better than right then.

Smiling at him, you let the finger of your free hand trail along his jaw slowly, taking in the feel of his skin and the hardness of bone underneath before dragging your fingernails down his throat until they slip beneath the leather collar.

“Be a good boy and unbutton that shirt.” Hoseok lets out a moan in response, his nose pressed to your bare stomach from how you’ve pulled him forward. He doesn’t make any further move there though, despite the heat of his breath as it caresses you.

Instead, he does exactly as you demanded from him. Long and elegant fingers, fingers that you’ve drooled over many times on your screen as he gripped his cock or screamed over as they abused your pussy, are working each button from its position to reveal more and more golden, toned skin.

The whole time he does this, Hoseok keeps his eyes firmly on yours until you’re not entirely sure if he’s submitting like he should be. A hand flutters up to touch the black lace mask that’s wrapped around your eyes, hiding your feature from view. Pointless if anyone you know watches this, because there’s no way on earth Hoseok would ever cheat on you. Nevermind doing it live.

But still, it provided a layer of protection that comforted you. Even if it was flimsy.

Plus Hoseok had practically drooled when you’d put it on so that was a win.

Once the shirt was unbuttoned, it lays against his torso prettily and you lean back to admire the delightful lines of his musculature that you’ve kissed and licked so many times before. He’s beautiful, and you fully intend on making sure that he knows that.

“So pretty. Take off those pants for me.” He nods his head slowly, fingers pushing the button through before unzipping them. Standing, he lets them pool at his feet before stepping out of them and you’re left to admire his physique.

He’s lean, yet the toned muscles let the viewers know that he works out enough. But what you’re focused on is his cock, standing proudly from his body as it bobs in the air. As you’ve stated before, he’s not a huge man, but while he may not be the longest he’s certainly got a delightful amount of girth that has you moaning out his name more often than not.

“Doesn’t he have the most delightful dick?” You ask the camera, reaching forward to let your fingers clasp around the silk covered steel of his erection, stroking gently and making him shudder as his head falls back. “Lay back on the bed and stroke yourself for me Hope.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Hoseok responds, sitting back on the bed. He shifts until he’s horizontal to the camera, allowing his whole body to get in the shot before he grasps his dick in his hand and begins to stroke. Talented and experienced hands that know exactly how hard to pull and how to twist until he’s groaning out and painting his stomach white.

“Don’t cum, but keep stroking.” You command firmly, resting a hand on his thigh. “I’ve got a surprise for the viewers.”

With that, you disappear off camera before coming back. The whole time, Hoseok watches you intently while his hand works at himself slowly, his cheeks ever so slightly flushed. But that does nothing to disguise the look of lustful interest in his eyes, nor the way he grips himself tighter with anticipation.

Moving until you’re just in view of the camera, you bend over to give Hoseok the best view of your ass and clothed pussy. The pained groan he lets out tells you that he obviously appreciates it, but you focus on the camera instead as you paint a pretty smile on your face.

“Now...I’ve heard from Hope that you’ve asked him to do a lot of things over the years. And he’s been a very naughty boy by teasing you all hasn’t he? It’s taken this long for him to be the one on the receiving end, and I know you’ve just been desperate to see that.” You pout slightly before winking. “But don’t worry, I’ll make him beg for you all.”

A turn of your head lets you see that Hoseok has slowed down, his hand not moving where it grips his cock firmly and your brow raises slowly. He catches your eye and flushes, mumbling out an apology to you before he’s stroking himself once more.

“I’ve also heard that you’ve asked if he’d be more willing to do things that other camboys do. I know that a lot of the solo guy shows don’t only jerk themselves off but use sex toys on themselves.” Leaning in, you read the comments as they move past on the screen before making a contemplative noise.

“I know he uses sex toys...but it’s always like...a cock ring or a fleshlight. I was thinking that we could have something else this time.” With that, you wink before producing the sex toy from your back.

The dildo is a glittering green, a joke that you’d bought him years ago when you first brought up the idea of pegging him. At the time, he’d just rolled his eyes in amusement but eventually he’d let you actually use it on him. As such, this was very much his toy.

And he definitely enjoyed it.

When you’d both been discussing how this show would go, the idea of using sex toys had come up and you’d then brought up the idea of using a dildo on him. It was something you both enjoyed in your private sex life from time to time and he’d casually mentioned sometimes that his viewers had often suggested it to him for the camera.

It was a popular form of entertainment for other camboys, but Hoseok had never done it. That wasn’t his style of show and he didn’t particularly enjoy doing that solo.

No, that was your thing to do with him and he’d been receptive to the idea of doing it on camera.

Which was why you’d both prepped so intensely earlier, because neither of you wanted to spend half an hour on camera just prepping him. Despite what porn and fiction said, anal sex was not something to just rush into and you had no desire to hurt your fiancé by going too fast.

Sure enough though, the comments are going crazy as everyone can guess where this is going. Hope being submissive was exciting enough for them all, but finally getting to see him being the one to writhe and whine as his ass was fucked was pushing them into overdrive.

It was with amusement that you watched the viewership spike suddenly, and you wondered if there were people who were spreading the news. You knew for a fact that Jimin was watching intently, which made you only slightly nervous. But if he couldn’t be fucked by, or fuck, Hoseok then he’d said he was damn well watching you do it.

“Yeah, I thought you’d all enjoy that. Would you like that Hope? Have your ass be fucked by me while all your viewers watch?” The question is light and inquisitive, double checking with him that he really was okay with this.

His response comes in a low, rasping voice that betrays the desire he’s feeling for what you’re going to do with him. “Yes Ma’am. I’d love that.”

“Hmmm...I did say that I would have you begging for your lovely audience. Maybe we should start now.” Moving over to the bed, you crawl on top of it until you’re between his legs, pushing them apart enough for you to kneel comfortably there and enjoying the sight of him stroking himself slowly.

Just slow enough that you can’t complain at him, but not fast enough to get him going. Though that doesn’t stop the bead of pre-cum that drips onto his toned stomach.

Uncapping the bottle of lube you’d dropped on the bed next to him, you drip it onto the dildo before stroking it slowly to coat it entirely. The sight of you jerking off a fake cock and not his own has Hoseok whining quietly, a tiny pout forming on his lips and causing you to laugh.

“Look at that. Where’s the Master or the Sir now? I’m only seeing a whiny baby. Are you being a whiny baby Hope?” You tease, voice light as you let your lubricated fingers trail along the soft, vulnerable flesh of his inner thigh.

“Yes Ma’am.” He responds dutifully, playing it up by pushing his lower lip out even more. His muscles twitch as you near his cock, testicles drawn up tight but you bypass that entirely.

Instead, you shift till you’re hovering over him before leaning down and catching that pouty lip between your teeth, tugging slightly before letting go. His breath, minty fresh from brushing just before going live, pants against your mouth before you kiss him.

It’s not a sweet kiss, nor is it soft. Instead, it’s rough and forceful with you taking control of his mouth and forcing him into submission. His natural dominant instinct makes him fight back for a few seconds before he remembers his character, sinking back into the silk sheets and letting you have your way with him.

While he’s completely distracted, you take the chance to grab his swollen cock and pump it a few times with a tight grip. He’d let go during the kiss, too concerned with your mouth on him to care about stroking himself off but your touch has him gasping into you.

You take that opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring him thoroughly in a kiss that quickly turns loud and sloppy. It’s probably not hugely attractive to watch, but you have no doubt that it’s a turn on for the audience when combined with your hand stroking at his stiff cock.

Pulling away suddenly, his kiss swollen lips cause you to smile as you note the wetness of them while your eyes trace down his slim frame till you reach his pride and joy. Any motion has stopped on your side, but his hips are moving in small, minute movements almost of their own accord as he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Do you want this cock?” You ask, lifting up the dildo that has been held firmly in your free hand. It shimmers in the light, wobbling slightly but Hoseok’s eyes darkened at the sight as he nods. Tutting, you grip his cock firmer. “I said, do you want this cock?”

“Yes Ma’am. I want that cock.” Hoseok is quick to respond, his words laced with a whimper and you smile triumphantly before letting go of his own cock. It bounces against his stomach for a moment, so stiff and needy that it rises back up.

“Good boy.” With that, you let lube trickle from the bottle down onto his balls before running the tip along it, collecting it before pushing it against his puckered ass. With the head pressed firmly in place, you pause to glance up at Hoseok and only when he gives the tiniest nod do you begin to push it further.

There’s resistance but it’s much easier than it would have been thanks to the prep you’d done and the copious amount of lube. He hisses slightly as the tip finally slips inside, his body tensing at the sensation but you made soft noises of encouragement, a hand running along his thigh reassuringly.

The hard bit is over now. Hoseok’s always found the first penetration hardest, but you know he’ll be okay now that’s over with. And if he’s not, then he’ll tell you. If he’s really unhappy, he’ll use his safe word.

His comfort is the priority here for you, despite what the viewers may think.

But the preparation he’d undergone earlier makes it easy on him, and he makes no noise of complaint or visible flinch by the time the length of the dildo is firmly inserted inside him. His cock is still hard, but you take hold of it and jerk him in a few quick movements to keep him interested there.

As you do so, you pull and watch as the length slides out of him slowly and easily before pushing it back in. Hoseok clenches slightly at the feeling before relaxing once again, letting out a long and slow breath.

It takes a few minutes for him to be fully okay with the sensation of the dildo, but the combination of time and the pleasure he gets from your hand job soon has him panting out loud.

Sure enough, it’s not long until he’s whining out loud as you increase the speed with which you thrust into him in small increments. A slight angling has his entire body stiffening up; not from pain but from pleasure as a long groan leaves him.

Experience has taught you that this angle is what seems to really stimulate his prostate and the way his thighs begin to shake tells you that he’s more than happy with the situation. Smiling to yourself, you lean down until you bite at the muscle of his thigh lightly, tracing your teeth along the sensitive skin there as he gasps out loud.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, nose running along his leg given you have no free hand in which to reassure him. A glance up tells you that he’s nodding in response, mouth open and eyes closed as his hips rock slowly.

Grinning, you stop suddenly and push the dildo in as far as you can get it. Tapping at his thigh with your now freehand, you look down at him imperiously. “Keep that in you. I’m sure you can do that right?”

He nods immediately and when you let go of the dildo, it doesn’t move at all. A pleased smile makes it way onto your face, causing you to lean down and kiss his forehead. “Good boy.”

You don’t need to look at his face again to know that he’s blushing a pretty pink under the praise, instead you just run your fingers through his dark hair before moving to look at the laptop. The chat is going wild with what they’ve just seen, even if they angle means that they can’t quite see the dildo in him.

Taking pity on them, you take hold of the camera and bring it around so that they can get the perfect view of him. “He looks so pretty doesn’t he? And he takes it so well. Jimin and Jungkook have really missed out. Don’t you think his cock looks so nice though?”

A few comments make you chuckle in amusement as you read them, eyes hidden behind the mask yet gleaming with anticipation.

Horny4Hope: Hope looks so nice fucked out.

CumToMe: That cock would look better with your juices on it

DVA256: Fuck him Ma’am! Make him beg!

“Should I fuck him? Do you think he deserves to put his cock in my pussy? Has he been good enough?” The comments flood in with viewers desperately screaming at you to fuck him, or be fucked. Some want to see the Hope they know and love appear and make you sob his name whereas others demand that you ruin him till he’s gasping.

“How should I fuck him?” That question gets hundreds of answers flooding in, but the overriding theme appears to be riding him. Keeping him in his submissive position and not allowing him the chance to gain any dominance.

Eyeing him as he lays there patiently, white shirt splayed open and carefully muscled torso just waiting for your touch, you agree with them. Being on top isn’t your favourite position, that would be when he’s jack hammering into you from behind, but it does give that beautiful sense of power. Plus, Hoseok goes wild for the view.

“Let’s ride him then shall we? I think we’ve tamed him enough.” You slowly take your underwear off, as seductively as you can for the camera before moving back to the bed. Once there, you move until you’re on top of him with your soaked core hovering over his stomach. His breath is coming faster already, sweat on his face and chest and you can’t wait till he’s drenched.

But you don’t slip onto him yet. Instead, you widen your stance a little until your clit brushes against his toned stomach, the sensation causing you to gasp out. Eyes fluttering shut, you rest one hand on his chest and rock your hips back and forth, the friction sending shocks of pleasure through your system while your wetness coats his skin.

“You feel good already Hope. Will you make me feel good with your cock?” You ask, breath strained slightly as your hips buck a little more. Hoseok’s eyes are glued to the area between your legs, focused with laser intensity on your engorged clit as it rubs against his abdomen.

“Yes Ma’am. I’ll make you feel good with my cock. You’ll feel better with my cock than with my stomach, I guarantee it.” His eyes flick up then to catch yours, a slight look of defiance in them as if he’s telling you to test his theory.

Your eyebrows shift upwards slightly and you smile, reaching to grab his swollen cock before you inch backwards until the tip of him is rubbing against your entrance. Rolling your hips in a circular manner, you tease him by sliding only the slightest of him inside before lifting off him again.

This is repeated a few times until he lets out a quiet whine of impatience, laced with desire and need. Tutting, you take pity on him and slide down on him suddenly, his cock penetrating you with ease given how obscenely wet and aroused you are for him.

Every inch of him fills you immediately, your sensitive walls clenching instinctively as you let out a long moan of pleasure. Hoseok’s cock has always felt good, and the knowledge of being watched makes it even more arousing and therefore pleasurable as you tighten once more.

His hands flex against the sheets, not touching you given that you haven’t given him the permission to do so. But you know he’s desperate for his hands to sink into the soft flesh of your hips, push you down as he drives upwards.

Instead, he lays there with clenched teeth as you slowly begin to ride him. He looks so attractive that you can’t help but lean down and bite along his neck once more, reaching any skin that you can manage around his collar and sucking deeply until you can feel the vibrations of his noises through his throat.

“He’s doing so good for me, aren’t you? His cock feels just as good as you think it might, I hope you all know that. Just imagine him inside you, filling you up until all you can focus on is the thickness between your thighs. Each ridge of him pressing against your sensitive areas, the friction of him so overwhelming. Imagine him fucking up into you, or you riding him like this. He’ll be whatever you want him to be, right Hope?” You end the teasing by running your hand along his chest, nails scraping slightly as he shudders and moans under you.

“Yes Ma’am. Anything you want.” He’ll probably say whatever you want right now, the combination of his cock in your wet, tight warmth and the dildo pressing against his prostate with every clench of his muscles and movement of his hips overriding any coherent thoughts he may have.

“That’s my good boy.” Purring to him, you begin to ride him with wild abandon.

Each roll of your hips had his thick length sliding in and out of you with a practised ease, the blunt head of him rubbing against the sensitive nerves inside you with each precise movement until you let out a soft cry of pleasure. Looking down at him, you groaned quietly at the sight of him so unbelievably fucked out beneath you.

It was a common sight for you, but not one for his viewers who were used to the restrained and controlled persona who inhabited HopeWorld, ruling it with darkened words and silken hands that touched only himself. Now though, they were being introduced to a whole new persona of Hope; one who enjoyed losing himself to the sensations and feelings that came with letting go.

Hoseok was tense beneath you, the toned planes of his chest shuddering as his lungs worked to force life giving oxygen into his starved body while the tendons of his neck tensed delightfully beneath the black leather of the collar that wrapped around him. Bruised rosettes were blossoming already from your earlier, insistent, ministrations and you smirked at the sight of them as he bit down on his lip, reddened from the constant chewing he'd been doing.

His abdominal muscles flex beneath you with each rock of your hips, a sign that he's fighting the instinctual urge he has to surge forward and fuck you till you're weeping his name. Only the knowledge of punishment, a refused orgasm once more, keeps him from giving in.

Inky hair clings to his sweat soaked forehead as his eyes scrunched closed, whimpers of almost pain leaving his throat but you know it's the opposite. He's experiencing too much pleasure, the precipice to bliss just within his reach and you purr softly.

“Does my Hope want to come? Do you want to come inside me until you're leaking out of me with each thrust? Till I'm coated in white?” He nods immediately, a choked grunt escaping him as you twist your hips a certain way while clamping your inner muscles down.

Reaching behind you, twisting your body till the camera has a great shot of you riding him,you grasp the end of the dildo still firmly wedged in him and pull on it slowly before sliding it back into place. It's awkward in this position, and you can't pull it out far enough but his reaction makes it worth it.

A high pitched whine leaves him before tagged gasps tear from his lungs, body jerking like he's been electrocuted beneath you from the dual pleasure of your slick, tight pussy around his cock and the thick, long intrusion pressing against his prostate in his ass.

Looking at the camera, you smirk before using your other hand to play with your clit slowly. Deft, experienced fingers rub at the bundle of nerves till you're fluttering around him and he's letting out random noises as you let out a deep sigh and shake your head.

“I don't think our Hope deserves to come in me, do you?” You ask his viewers directly, pausing your movements to lean in and read the flurry of comments that are flying along the screen. There are over 70,000 people watching you ruin him right now and the sheer thrill sends a tingle down your spine.

“Looks like they agree Hope, no pussy for you.” You murmur, grinning for the camera before turning back and leaning forward. Hoseok's eyes are almost black with lust and passion and he acquiesces to you with zero complaints as you kiss him messily, tongue playing with his in a loud show before you pull away to admire his wry lips.

Lifting your hips up, he slips out of you before his length bounces on his stomach and rising back up to press insistently at your clit. Sighing quietly, you grind against him and simply enjoy the way his slick flesh feels against you.

“How should I use him to get off hmm? Should I ride him? Get myself off while he watches? Or ride his face?” You throw out the suggestions casually, feeling the way Hoseok shudders beneath you in anticipation of whatever you’re going to do for him.

Crawling over to the laptop, your eyes glance towards the camera and you take note of yourself in the screen as you do so. Your breasts are still held tightly in your lace bra, the hints of green noticeable even at a glance and your teeth bite at your lip seductively as you run a hand over the soft mounds of them.

Unsurprisingly, the comments are going wild and you laugh lightly as you sit against the edge of the bed, likely leaving a patch of darkened wetness on the delightful silk sheets. Smirking, you let your tongue run along your lower lip slowly while looking into the camera.

“Shall we do a little poll? 100 coins to vote.” You murmur, grinning as your fingers tap over the keyboard as you set up the poll how Hoseok had shown you once. The hitch in his breathing from behind you let’s you know he’s probably turned his head away to let out a laugh at your blatant commercialisation of ruining your fiancé.

He’d be proud.

Shifting, you look at him with a raised brow as the poll begins to run. Hoseok’s face is carefully blank, the sweat on his brow shining in the light as he works to calm down his breathing now that he’s been given a respite. There’s something delightful about edging him along to an orgasm before letting him whine as it falls away from him and you understand exactly why he loves doing it to you so much.

Running your fingertips lightly alone his chest, letting the slightest touch of his skin ghost against your own. The sensation has him shivering, the fine hairs on his arms rising as you lean over and press an open mouthed, wet kiss to him. A stilted breath escapes him at your touch and you smile, your tongue darting out to lick the lightest line of wetness along his stomach.

You follow the natural lines of his muscles, dipping into the crevices and enjoying the slight tang of his sweat as it hits your tongue. It almost immediately makes a flare of heat burst into life between your legs, causing you to squeeze. The slight relief caused has you sighing against him, warm breath hitting the cooling trail on his skin and making him shiver again.

“You’re being very good for me, aren’t you? Such a good boy.” The words purr from you, low and teasing as you bite at his hip bone and cause him to jerk in response. He doesn’t respond until you look back up at him, brow raising while your eyes harden slightly.

Hoseok bites at his own lip, looking a little like he wants to be petulant and you mentally encourage him. Because there’s nothing like reprimanding him and making him whine for you, and the power trip the camera is giving you is like nothing else. You don’t even need to feel between your legs to know damn well that not only is your pussy wet, but your thighs too.

But he evidently decides to deny you that thrill because he nods slowly.

Still, you decide it’s not quite enough for you and you reach for his collar, pulling him up slightly until his shoulders leave the bed. “What was that? Are you being a good boy?”

Hoseok hisses lightly, his muscles in his torso flexing as he keeps himself up to ease the pressure on him before he nods once more. “Yes Ma’am. I’m being a good boy for you.”

You almost end up moaning at that, jaw clenching slightly to keep it all together at his sex roughened voice, the tone scraping against all the pleasurable bits inside you and letting you know that he’s beyond turned on. Though his cock was enough evidence of that.

Instead, you just smirk and let go before turning back to the laptop as he falls back to the bed with a soft ‘ooph’. The comments have been going wild again, with some people complaining about the lack of normal HopeWorld content but the vast majority going crazy over seeing their Hope being so utterly dominated after years of controlling his crowd so easily.

It would appear his fans are very approving of this change of pace, and you can’t help but break character and smile as you see the love that’s being sent your way. Any reservations or insecurities you may have had are swept away at the sight of them and instead you feel oddly empowered.

You understand why Hoseok has done this for so long now.

“Hmm...it would seem that the people want me to use your mouth to get myself off. What do you think about that Hope? Are you willing to put that naughty tongue to good use? You’re certainly willing to let it run on these shows...shall we show the audience that it’s good for more than just reprimanding?” Smirking, you take hold of the camera carefully and walked back over to the bed, carefully making sure that you’re in focus and everything is still working.

Hoseok’s watching you with those sex darkened eyes, lashes creating soft shadows on his statuesque face and you’re desperate for everyone to see how he looks even more beautiful with his mouth wet from you. You don’t let him have a chance to move, and instead straddle his waist once more before slowly crawling up his body.

The camera gets placed down just above his head, your eyes on the laptop screen to make sure you’ve got the perfect view while you try to avoid whimpering at the feel of his heated breath against your sopping core. This isn’t a position you do all too often, but your thighs literally tremble with desire at the idea of it right now and a quick glance down has you internally sighing.

Hoseok’s eyes are focused with quiet intensity on the soft flesh between your legs, his breath coming a little faster and his hands gripping the silk bedsheets tighter as he restrains himself from doing what he so obviously wants to. Which is attack you with so much fury and lust that you can’t stop your moans.

“Now then Hope...I’m going to need you to stick out that dirty tongue of yours. I’ve seen the filth that you’ve said with it over the years, and I think it’s time that we put it to good use.” There’s not even an ounce of resistance in Hoseok as he sticks his tongue out, stiffening the pink muscle into a point that has you shuddering on nothing.

Christ, he was going to be the death of you.

“Good boy.” You whisper before lowering yourself the final few inches until you feel the wet tip press against the engorged bundle of nerves, so sensitive that you can’t keep the deep groan inside. He’s warm against you, his tongue firm yet slippery as it slides along your folds with ease.

Hoseok doesn’t try to do anything for the moment, though you can tell by his closed eyes that he’s having to control himself pretty well. You don’t want him to get jaw, or tongue, ache though so you stroke your fingers through his hair slowly while you rock against him before finally letting him free.

“Use your mouth on me Hope. Show me that tongue is useful for more than just being dirty.” It’s all the confirmation Hoseok needed and he immediately relaxes his tongue from its stiff position, the loss of sensation almost causing you to whine.

Instead though, it’s replaced with his hot lips and an intense pressure as he wraps them around your clit before letting go. He continues with this motion in an almost teasing manner; suck and release, suck and release. It doesn’t help when he suddenly includes his tongue, flicking the tender flesh until you shudder above him.

Opening your eyes, you focus on the camera before glancing to the laptop to make sure it’s getting the best shot. From here, you can see the night sky blackness of his hair as it gleams in the light, his elegant nose visible before his wet, pink tongue darts out to lick a long, flat strip along your pussy.

It’s a ridiculously arousing shot, and combined with his movements has you moaning out loud while you fist at his hair. Your hips are moving of their own accord now, short little grinding motions that press yourself further into him and he lets out a deep hum of approval, the vibrations sending shivers along you.

“That’s it, oh god yes that’s it. Keep going, make me cum. Use your fingers.” You command of him, your voice wavering slightly as your eyes flutter shut from the pleasure that sizzles along your veins. It’s been over forty-five minutes now, and you’re more than ready to finally fall into the embrace of the orgasm that you’ve been teasing yourself with.

And Hoseok is more than ready to give it to you, with his long and elegant fingers running along the supple skin of your thigh lightly before reaching your drenched core. Two of them slide along you, coating themselves in your excitement before they’re slipping inside.

Almost immediately you clench tightly around him, the sensation of something penetrating you overwhelming and enticing. Hoseok doesn’t let you go easy though, and you almost get the sense that he’s getting his own back on you.

It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always claimed that he was dominant even when being submissive, he just let you do what you want. But you certainly don’t complain this time, not when he starts to finger you at a fast tempo that matches the insistent flicking of his tongue on your clit.

Each stroke has his fingers bending, curling against your g-spot and sending an overwhelming amount of pleasure through your body every time until you were making the tiniest moans. The sounds are lewd and loud, overwhelmingly wet and you have no doubt that Hoseok’s chin is likely getting covered.

He makes no complaint however, instead just focusing on your pussy with a laser focus. A glance at the camera in front of you makes you quiver, thighs tensing before you’re moaning out in one long, low syllable that sounds like it’s been drawn from the bottom of your stomach. Your internal muscles clamp down on his fingers, twitching around him as your entire body convulses while his tongue still working at your poor clit.

Hoseok’s hand doesn’t relent either, continuing to push through your tightness and elongating your orgasm until the over sensitivity of it all has you panting and pushing at his head until those beautiful brown eyes of his are visible once more. They’re creased slightly, amusement evident in every inch of his gorgeous face but you don’t let the camera see that.

Instead, you shift until you’re kneeling on one leg, the other pushed outwards so the camera can see the slick, wet evidence of Hoseok’s ministrations on you. Even from here, you can see how turned on you look and the lust in Hoseok���s eyes tells you that the viewers are probably loving it too.

Humming to yourself, you shift until you’re sitting closer to the laptop and lean in to read the comments while positioning the camera to focus on your torso. The silk brushes against your clit momentarily and you let out a tiny gasp before focusing once more.

“Oh, it seemed they liked that Hope. You were being a very good boy, they approve. Do you think we should let him get his treat now? Good boys deserve a reward right?” Your voice is huskier than it would normally be, but you’ve just been given a phenomenal orgasm so there’s no surprise.

Sure enough, the comments come rolling in like a wave of unrestrained lust and desire. People demanding that Hoseok be ridden till he’s whining, fucked in the ass till he’s pleading or sucked till he’s gasping. One thing was for certain; everyone wanted to see their favourite Hope brought to an orgasm that was so shattering, it would shift the axis of his world.

“Okay everyone, I see. We all want our beloved Hope to get his happy ending yeah? A true goodbye to the camming world? What do you say I make him moan for you, the way he’s made all of you moan over the years? Would you like that?” Hoseok lets out a soft gasp from behind you, his hand moving until it’s resting against the small of your back in a reassuring way.

The camera doesn’t pick this up and it warms you from the inside at his touch. He was ready for whatever you gave him.

His viewers are desperate to watch him truly fall apart, to witness him brought to orgasm by someone else. Smiling, you shift to look at him before smirking, running your finger along his swollen lips. He keeps firm eye contact with you as his tongue flicks out, playing with your finger before you’re looking back at the screen.

“Is everyone ready? You’re going to get to see the one and only Hope, truly fucked out for the first and only time.” The chat goes wild with excitement and lust, causing you to laugh as you move out of the way before shifting the camera until it’s focused on Hoseok perfectly.

He’s still wearing his shirt, the white that covers his arms contrasting against his warm, golden skin that’s covered in the lightest sheen of sweat. His hard cock, swollen and stiff against his stomach, is leaking pre-cum and you grin as it twitches as you watch it while his balls are tight, desperate for release.

“Let’s go then Hope, can you handle it?” You turn towards him, crawling on your hands and knees down the bed until you’re at his thighs. His lip is pulled into his mouth, white teeth apparent for a moment before they’re gone.

“I can handle it Ma’am.” His voice is quiet and respectful, but you can hear the slight pushback in it. He’s being cocky, which is a dangerous thing to be when you have his actual cock right there. Instead of saying anything though, you just grin before taking hold of the dildo that’s been sitting prettily inside him the whole time.

You know that it’s been affecting him, as occasional movements that had nothing to do with you would make him gasp and shiver. And you know exactly where his prostate is from previous experience. Not only that, but you have zero qualms in making him cry with pleasure again.

He tenses up for a quick moment before relaxing, his thighs tightening once more as you pull at the thick intrusion penetrating him until it’s almost out. Pushing slowly, you slip it back inside and grin at the deep grunt that leaves his mouth.

The next stroke is angled slightly, your wrist working to find the right angle until his entire body shudders and his hands claw at the sheets. Bingo.

“Do you like that? Does it feel good?” You murmur, tone low as you bend down to kiss along his toned thigh wetly. A few of your kisses turn into you sucking at the skin harshly, leaving pretty red spots that blossom, while others you bite at the muscle there.

It’s undeniably hot and arousing, the way he writhes on the bed at your insistent touch and how his hips circle desperately. Much like how yours must when he’s hammering into you, trying to find the perfect angle that makes your body sing.

But you’ve already found that with Hoseok, because each breath that escapes his heaving chest is laced with the beautiful sound of his moans and whines. Each noise painting a beautiful picture of heady lust for the camera.

“Did you know that he can orgasm from prostate stimulation alone?” You look at the camera, brow raised in amusement. From this distance, you can’t read the comments but from the way Hoseok’s cock jumps, you know that he’s remembering the experience as well. “It takes a long time though, so today we’ll just have to help him along.”

Smiling at him, you grab the bottle of lube and add a little more to make sure he’s extra comfortable before working at him harder. Hoseok hisses out slowly, his chest lowering as his breath leaves him and you decide that now is the time.

His cock is resting on his stomach still, a pool of pre-cum leaking profusely from his tip with the more you stimulate him. Reaching for it, you grasp the base of him firmly before moving up in one, long stroke. The downward stroke has him gasping and you continue the motion on, starting to move faster until the sounds in the room reach lewd levels once more.

Leaning forward, you tongue at his balls slowly, tracing along the skin and sucking one into your mouth playfully while his body wriggles on the bed desperately. His hands continually clench at the sheets and you wonder if he might tear straight through them.

“Oh god, oh god please. Please.” He starts to pant, the words high pitched despite his deeper voice and painted with desperation. Poor baby needed to come.

Letting go of his testicles, you run the flat of your tongue up his shaft slowly, letting it play along him before you flick your tongue at the spot just below his tip. Salty liquid greets you, the evidence of his desire and pleasure and you suckle on the head of him for a few moments, enjoying the way his hips jerk up to try and find more of the warm embrace of your mouth.

You don’t let his movements dictate you however, and instead your tongue dances around his tip for a minute or so, dipping into his slit before tracing along the edges of the head. Finally, your lips wrap around him, only this time...you don’t let go of him. Instead, you let your head lower until he’s firmly in your throat, your nose pressing against the hair at his base.

The suddenness of being deep throated has Hoseok choking, his hips jerking up and almost gagging you as you force your throat muscles to relax around him. “Oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh shit.”

He’s not making any sense with his words and you get the feeling that any form of coherent thought has officially left him as your throat contracts around his sensitive tip. Each pull of your mouth on his cock is reciprocated with a stroke of the dildo inside him, creating a dual sensation of pleasure that has him speaking in pure gibberish as his face screws up.

There’s no warning of his next move, no pat on your head or verbal cue. Instead, his hips jerk savagely under you before his entire body convulses in a wave of pleasure as streams of thick cum coat the walls of your throat. Hoseok is normally pretty loud when he orgasms, his groans deep and intoxicatingly arousing, but this time he’s almost silent except for a soft, high pitched whine.

You help him through it, continuing to bob up and down on his cock as he cums while your arm continuous to pump the dildo in him. As usual when he’s getting prostate stimulation, the orgasm is longer than usual and it feels like he cums for minutes, your mouth salty with his taste.

Finally though, he starts to whine and pant as the pleasure turns to overstimulation. “Oh god, please stop. Please stop Ma’am.” He gasps out, hands twitching as he struggles to avoid pressing against your head.

You take pity on him, releasing him with a slick sound and watching as his sensitive member falls back on his stomach with a slap. Humming lightly, you gently tug the dildo out of him and place it on the towel you’d prepared earlier, ready for it to be cleaned later while your hand runs along his stomach lightly.

Pressing a kiss to his chest, you move up to then kiss his lips while you scan over his face quickly to check that he’s okay. He watches you with tired eyes, the half moon crescents wrinkling as he smiles at you.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly after a few minutes, keeping your voice soft and quiet as your hand strokes along his chest comfortingly. He nods, lips pursing into a slight pout and you can’t help but chuckle at him before kissing him again. “Come say bye to your viewers.”

Hoseok groans slightly, knowing that you’ll give him the aftercare he needs and wants once the camera has finished. You have every intention of bundling him into the shower, cleaning him up, giving him a warm drink before cuddling up with him under the covers. But he has to finish his camshow career now.

He shifts forward, his movements slow and lazy and you let him lean against you. His head flops onto your shoulder, black hair covering his forehead and you make soft, unintelligible noises as you move it away so the camera can see his beautiful face. Maybe the shift in demeanour might be jarring to the viewers, but neither of you care.

Leaning forward, Hoseok pulls the laptop closer to you both while you drape his discarded jeans over both of your laps. Odd, to want this privacy after what you’d just done yet you felt the need given the topic. He makes a soft hum of acknowledgement before shrugging off his shirt and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Did everyone enjoy that?” He asks, the corner of his mouth twisting up as a hint of his usual Hope persona comes through. Your hand slips behind him to rest against his back, providing comfort for you both.

The comments are running along the screen and you read a few with a smile, enjoying people screaming unintelligibly in the comments over how beautiful Hope looked being ruined or how nicely he came for you. From what you can read, the general consensus is positive to it and you feel proud that you’d done what he wanted.

“Yeah? You think she’s hot? She is, isn’t she? Pretty good at this too.” He goes quiet again before laughing. “Actually no, I don’t do this often. But tonight was special for you all, right? A treat to say thank you for loving me over the years.”

You want to hug him at that; the love and affection in his voice is so strong. He’ll miss this, you know he will. But Hoseok is also stubborn, and you know that he won’t change his mind.

“Does she have her own shows? No, she doesn’t,” He pauses and looks at you with a bright smile, the familiar heart shape warming your own heart. “I should stop talking like you’re not here. But seriously...thank you for all your love and support over the years. It’s meant a lot, and I’m glad that you’ve loved me in turn. I’ll miss you all.”

Hoseok waves at the camera, smiling brightly and laughing at the comments as they fly past. “I love you all! I hope all you dirty folk find someone new to keep you in your place. But for now, HopeWorld is officially closed.”

And with that, he turns off live stream.

It’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you and presses a kiss to your forehead. He doesn’t move, just lets his lips rest there before he’s nosing at your hairline while his arms wrap around you.

“You did really good. A natural on camera. And you looked beautiful. And I’m not entirely sure I’m feeling my legs yet.” Snorting, you lean back slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” You’re asking both about his physical and mental state after what happened but also about closing down his camshow career. His lips purse before he nods.

“Yep. I’m good. I love you.” He whispers before kissing you slowly. A rumble of pleasure leaves his chest and you smile into it.

“Love you too. And now I believe I owe you some aftercare, so shower it is Mr Jung.”

“Yes future-Mrs Jung. Your fiancé needs his cuddles.”

“And he’ll get them. Once he’s clean.”

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #btssunshineclub #btscreatorsnet #btssmutclub #hoseok smut #hoseok fluff #j hope smut #j hope fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #hoseok fanfic #j hope fanfic #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #camboy hoseok #camboy j hope #hobi smut #hobi fluff #hobi fanfic #hoseok one shot #j hope one shot #bts one shot

[things2mustdo]

I doubt anyone needs to be reminded that the media is rotten to the core; even the most reluctant and closed-minded people are accepting this as a given now. But despite the media being widely condemned nowadays (my special thanks to Germans for bringing the word “Lügenpresse” back), few people know or understand what’s really going on in the journalistic kitchens, where the foul slop of lies that people are fed every day is cooked up. However, there is always a way in—through purposeful infiltration or, in my case, by accident.

I have an old friend—let’s call him Sven—whom I always knew as a kind-hearted and sincere man. However, these traits are also coupled with always assuming the best of people and being rather naive. Due to this, he keeps ending up in awkward and sometimes dangerous situations. One of them turned out to be a short stint as a journalist for a popular online newspaper. He barely maintained contact during his employment and eventually went completely off the grid. In about a month, he resurfaced a changed man, and not for the better. As he explained, he quit the job and then shut himself in for a while, armed with nothing but alcohol, to cope with the depression working as a journalist gave him.

Now, this probably sounds very soft to many of you, including myself. Men don’t sink into depressions or try to drink themselves out of problems. While I granted my friend the clemency of explaining his failures to him, I also recognized the usefulness of his experience and started questioning him about what he saw and heard at the job. I will relay his findings below; however, I will not disclose his true name or the name of his employer—given the “free” country we live in, this can land him in very hot water.

Whoever pays you, owns you

Sven joined the ranks of journalists to tell people the truth. To his credit, he believed he would be doing exactly that. His first assignment sounded so simple, after all—talk to a person, record the conversation, write an article, publish it. The reality turned out to be diametrically different—after our fresh-baked journalist returned from his first interview, he was immediately ordered to transcribe the recording and email it to the content manager. Half an hour later Sven received a heavily edited version of the transcript, with the parts he considered most crucial replaced with meaningless buzzwords or removed completely. When he went to the manager to voice his indignation, the manager simply replied: “This man did not pay us for an article that would disparage him. Get back to your desk.”

This was far from the only case of Sven witnessing how much pull money has in journalism. His numerous colleagues almost never produced independent content—they were too busy publishing one paid article after another. When Sven asked whether these articles should be marked as sponsored, the only reply he got was a bitter laugh. Very often the content manager would come over to his desk and say something along the lines of “Do you know the guy you are writing about is a close friend of our boss? Do not screw this article up.” Sven was also surprised to see that many interviewees (usually politicians) would not even bother to talk to him, instead referring him to their secretaries or assistants. One of them even went as far as to hand him a pre-written speech, tell him to work with it and walk away.

However, our Sven also happens to possess a burning sense of justice, which has several times led him to ignore the “recommendations” his content manager gave him, deviate from the official story and allow small snippets of truth to make their way into public view. For each of such occurrences he was called to the manager’s room, given a strict admonishment and had his paycheck for the month reduced. Any “unsanctioned” things that he wrote were quickly edited away afterwards—even if the article had already been read by thousands of people. And his was supposed to be a “neutral and objective” media outlet!

Standards? Never heard of ’em.

It was a big shock for Sven when he finally realized that his employers were beings without conscience who whored themselves out to the highest bidder. It was an even bigger shock when he discovered how nonchalantly his colleagues treated their responsibilities. Investigative journalists relied on information they got from Google searches and Twitter posts, editors and sub-editors used rumors and hearsay to write scathing op-eds, website managers just posted any content that caught their fancy as long as they could come up with a flashy enough headline for it to attract people. Fact-checking was almost unheard of, unless someone specifically paid for it.

When it came to choosing topics and writing articles, the guideline for the entire establishment was simple: do not make the people angry. Not the regular people, mind you—those were not even considered human beings, just a faceless mass that one threw articles at and got pageviews and money in return. No, the label “people” was reserved for people who mattered. This included representatives of the powers that be, well-known public figures, moneybags with fingers in the political pie and, of course, personal buddies of the outlet’s owner.

These were to be protected, coddled and praised at all costs, while everyone else was fair game. Needless to say, politics held as much sway in the outlet as money did—whenever something noteworthy happened, “protectors of truth and objectivity” immediately went to work spinning the events in a way desirable for those holding their leashes. Hit pieces against political opponents and undesirables were churned out, smokescreens were cast, facts were omitted, denied and misinterpreted. Sven confessed to me later that the day his outlet covered the parliamentary elections was the first day in his life when he spent the entire evening drinking. Journalistic ethics, a term that the media loves throwing left and right, turned out to be nothing but hot air.

In the media omelet, you are an egg

The title says it all. For top dogs in the media business, a rank-and-file worker is not just a pawn—he is a condom. Contrary to what many people think, a typical journalist’s existence is quite pathetic: underpaid, undervalued, thankless and constantly bossed around. Staff turnover in the “kitchen” is very high, and not because people are getting promoted. In this field, the term “veteran employee” frequently means a poor sod who has no alternatives and cannot quit.

According to Sven, plenty of his colleagues worked only for the sake of getting their paycheck, which explains their negligence. Grey faces, pinched mouths, shifty eyes and sour attitudes—whatever it takes to get through the day. In addition, the higher-ups avoided any responsibility for the published content: whenever an angry reader called the office and complained about an article, the guy who wrote it was immediately thrown under the bus, even if his work was reviewed and approved by the management before publication. After all, what does it take to find another office drone with half-decent writing skills?

However, Sven also describes those of his coworkers who enjoyed their job. They arrived at the office with a spring in their step, a smile snaking across their faces and a mischievous glint in their eyes. These were the “talented” favorites of the outlet’s boss—unfeeling, cold assholes who would sell their own mothers for a juicy piece of gossip that they would later smear all over the website. Whenever they got a chance to write a hit piece, spread a nasty rumor or ruin someone’s life, one could almost see them light up from within. Remember all these smug, holier-than-thou, oh-so-intellectual articles churned out by rags like Salon, Dagens Nyheter and Huffington Post? You can bet your pinky finger they were (and are) written by these people. Which brings us to the next topic.

No wrongthink allowed

As you have probably noticed long ago, the media field is a huge and accommodating Petri dish for all varieties of Kulturbolschewismus. In Sven’s case, it wasn’t just a fear-based company policy of snitching and self-censorship, but an actual agenda at work. He told me there was a flowchart hanging in the newsroom explaining what to do when reporting crimes and incidents. It went something like this: “Was the perpetrator native (white)? Y = report in detail, amplify, N = gloss the details over, downplay.”

Sven wrote an article about a national holiday once, but his content manager refused to approve it for publishing due to it being “too patriotic,” advising him instead to “write more inclusively about minorities’ participation in the festival.” Anything praising the country and its indigenous inhabitants was undesirable and omitted whenever possible, while any piece that brimmed with self-hate, praised inhabitants of other (read: African and Muslim) countries or attacked the natives and their way of life was a big hit and flew through approval like a bird.

Needless to say, the outlet’s newsroom was crammed full of women, their pet cucks and, of course, Jews. The former enjoyed absolute power regardless of their position—a simple complaint to HR was enough to fire anyone, no proof required. The cucks, represented by twig-armed, piercing-laden, wispy-bearded creatures in Che Guevara shirts, were very pleased with the way things were going, sipping lattes and snitching to HR on those who expressed ideas incompatible with the narrative. Jews were in their native element in the newsroom, doing their usual “arrogant intellectual” schtick and getting promotions out of nowhere. The majority of articles bashing natives, their culture and values came from them, as later study of the newspaper’s website showed me.

Liars for hire

So, to sum it all up: the media is not composed of good but misguided people, as many still think. On the contrary, it is a very purposeful and self-aware entity that positions itself somewhere between an unscrupulous opportunist and a loyal lapdog of the state. At best, it is faux-patriotic (“such a wonderful country we have, let’s invite more immigrants!”), while at worst, it is openly hostile towards the indigenous population of the country it exists in.

Moreover, it allows for consolidation and self-affirmation of globalist forces—the traitorous governments, the world Jewry, the multinationals, the entertainment industry and the like—against the increasingly disenfranchised and declining native population. And last but not least, the media is complicit in crimes committed in the West by non-White immigrants due to purposeful obfuscation of them and, if that fails, rabble-rousing to pressure the courts into letting the criminals off scot-free. To me, the latter reason alone is enough to send all the journalists and their owners to the gibbet.

The bottom line is to always remember that the media is not your friend in any way, shape or form, even if its lowest tier operatives fit the description of hapless victims rather than nation-wrecking enemies. The media must be opposed, exposed and boycotted at every turn until it starts bleeding money and choking on its own venom.

Read More: Is Washington Post Writer Adam Taylor A Shill Or Part Of Something Larger?

While reading  Roosh’s article about Adam Taylor and the Washington Post, I noticed quite a few things I would like to share with people here. The direct link between Adam Taylor and the Radio Free excerpt is an anomaly. Such blatant copying is a very rare thing to occur because it gives away a possible collusion between entities.

Looking for these open relationships is long and hard. The better way to analyze  the relations and motivations of certain publishers, policy makers and other manipulators  is to study the various themes they put out and where these themes repeat. While Roosh  might assume that Adam Taylor is the paid shill by himself, I’ve noticed that his writing changes to whoever publishes it. Therefore the Washington Post Worldviews section may be the one that is parroting US State Department themes not just Adam Taylor.

As is shown in Roosh’s article, the similarities between Adam Taylor’s piece and Radio Free Europe are quite telling. It is a possibility that it is a coincidence but a small one. People that try to influence public opinion go to great lengths to ensure things like this do not happen which is why I’m assuming that Adam Taylor is  part of larger machine and not a shill by himself.

Looking back at Adam Taylor’s writing for the Huffington Post, he wrote fluff pieces about gay dogs and other mass consumption items for that audience. His writing about geopolitical intrigue only takes the current form when he begins writing for the Washington Post. All his articles are the Who’s Who of what the US State Department doesn’t like. The roster includes Russia, China, Venezuela, Syria, and Zimbabwe. He writes nothing critical of any American allies.

Could this mean that his change in format indicate that someone turned him? I doubt it. Compare his work at the Washington Post to the rest of the “world views” section there, his writing is merely a contribution to a giant echo chamber and not unique to him.

As I said earlier, it’s very rare for open evidence of collusion such as the similar quotations to present themselves. A better technique to discern propaganda and collusion is to analyze trends and themes.You should look for such things as what the work attempts to convey, does it try to get you to think or act in a certain way, and does it try to get you to disregard other things.

In the Adam Taylor case, the pattern changes significantly from the Huffington Post to the Washington Post. You can also apply this trend analysis to pretty much any author. You can even apply to the contributors here at  Return of Kings and see what you get. Do the trends indicate that the publisher may dictate what the writers write about? Do the trends indicate whether or not the writers have freedom to write about whatever they want? To help you readers out on this exercise I’ll inform you there were two articles I did at the direction of the publisher. They were my article for fat shaming week and my article for #backtothekitchen.  Feel free to comment on any other trends you might notice and if they do not line up with the “about” page.

[darkestwolfx]

Lost Kingdom - Re-Review #34

“Lesson over.”

And once again, Kayo is seemingly perfect... @tsarinatorment​ and @psychoseal​ is it time for some more rants? I think so. I’m sure Tin-Tin would have been quite capable at holding her own in TOS, and I also think Gordon would be a little better at physical combat. But hey, this is only like forty seconds of the episode, so I will move on.

“I wonder if Kayo’s finally met her match.”

“Guess not.”

Just to say, I was so voting for MAX - seriously, I have faith in this robot. Does no one remember him in ‘Legacy’? I’d have MAX for a guard dog any day.

“I’m detecting structures down there. They seem to be man made.”

“Want me to get Virgil?”

Why, Alan? So he can go in and do some heavy lifting? In fairness, there had to be some kind of reference to him because um... where is he? Anyone want to hazard a guess? 

“The World Council Emergency conference just ended, and the archaeologists agree, it is the lost city of Atlantis.”

“Imagine that. A city reappearing after thousand and thousands of years.”

“If it’s been buried under water for that long... there won’t be much left that’s worth seeing.”

Oh my gosh, I love the story of Atlantis! Literally, other than animal conservation, Ancient/Classical History was one of my favourite topics.

Anyone else love this film? Apparently it’s one of the most loved Disney films, but also most forgotten. Bit of trivia for you as well - it was the only Disney film to have ten proposed DVD covers, all of which were released as promotional posters, but of course only one made it onto the DVD. However, the German and Chinese distributors for the DVD chose to use different posters for the DVD cover (both of which only saw distribution in these countries) whilst the rest of the world copied the British/American choice. Personally, I preferred every other poster to the one they used the DVD, but hey, they didn’t give me a vote.

And, okay, yes, I won’t admit to knowing everything, but I do know a lot about what other people might class as pointless.

Anyhow, back to Thunderbirds;

“I’ve got a feed coming in. You need to see this.”

“This is Francios Lemaire, bringing you lucky viewers, yet another chance to watch me make history! And here we are, on the bridge-”

“Control room.”

“Control room- of my luxury sub, the Jules Verne, from where I’ll be bringing you footage, of the very first human - that’s me - to explore the legendary, lost city of Atlantis!”

Oh look, here we go!

As soon as that music started I just who it was going to be. 

Madeline is perfectly describing my feelings on Francois for this episode in this picture. I think - by the look of the faces we got from Tracy Island - that she describes what the Tracy boys feel as well.

“I order you to leave the area.”

Yeah, Lady Penelope, you tell him.

“Alright, alright, I was only trying to bring a bit of culture to the masses.”

Probably not the right way to do it.

“Your submarine’s in a live sea quake zone, Mr Lemaire, I strongly advise you to leave as fast as you can.”

“What is this? The International Rescue Babysitting Service!”

Um... considering your past record... yes?

Anyone remember the birthday party in the Mariana trench?

“I’m well aware of my location, thank you.”

Um, was he drinking whilst driving? Yeah, that’s a great thing to teach the masses.

“Francois, that’s re... uh.”

“Oh dear. Silly goose. Why didn’t you tell me I was in the wrong gear?”

Probably why you got the wrong gear, mate... Time to call the International Rescue Babysitting Service, d’you think, Lemaire?

So, anyhow, thanks to Lemaire’s stupidity - we have a rescue! And it’s one for Gordon - the water kind of gave that away - and oh look, Virgil (wordlessly) runs across the scene and gets ready to go. Really, where was he?

Still, I think I would have lost my patience with Lemaire by now - and damn ethics, I might have been tempted to ignore him.

“Hello, how much longer do I have to wait?”

“It’s only been half an hour.”

“I’m bored.”

“Patching you through to Thunderbird Two for an update.”

Ha-ha, way to pass Lemaire away from you John!

“We’re coming too!”

I can hardly believe it! It’s Brains, willingly going on a rescue, in person!

“I’ll tell you what’s crazy, Brains. Us chasing Lemaire through an active sea quake zone!”

Why is that man such an idiot? He really didn’t even need IR. Next time definitely just leave him, I vote.

“It’s breathable air.”

“It better be, look!”

And Lemaire’s idiotic streak increases...

So, here we are - apparently. There are many proposed locations for Atlantis (the first map below is Europe, the second is a wider view of the world), with many still in dispute. For a long time, it was believed that Atlantis being near Santorini made sense. In fairness, when I stayed in Crete, I had a lovely tour with some locals who tried to show me all the reasons why Atlantis had been near them. Actually, their argument (especially in their native language without the typical English mis-translations) is quite convincing. Crete does have massively similar architecture to that suggested in the Ancient Greek depictions of Altantis. It was argued that these could have been built at a much later stage, but the stone dates back far enough to suggest not. Whether or not Atlantis did sit near Crete, it is fair to say (especially as both were inhabited by the Greeks) that maybe the Atlantians did have a part of their Empire there.

Later, theories rose that Atlantis had previously filled a gap in the Straits of Gibraltar, and Island separating Spain and Africa, and potentially offering connections between continents. This was initially met with much annoyance by Greeks, who believed that Atlantis (an ancient Greek Empire) couldn’t have sat so far away from their own homelands. But, at the time, it was really only Greek and Italy who had big plays across Europe, and the Atlantians were rumoured to have waged war or conquered a considerable amount of the country in Greek’s name. The Straits also make a lot of sense scientifically and geographically. Although the Greeks believed (at the time and still now) Poseidon to be responsible for the sinking of Atlantis, we know that it had to have been a combination of earthquakes and/or tsunami’s which brought down this great empire, and the Straits of Gibraltar sit directly on a tectonic fault line which has led to a subduction zone (so sea quakes would be of great possibility - so I’m assuming TAG have gone with Gibraltar as a setting here) which has now been active (that we know of) from the 1700s - seems likely to be it was active before too.

You can read more about that here if it is of interest to you: https://www.livescience.com/19656-gibraltar-subduction-zone.html

Of course, many take the belief that Atlantis was a fictional story of Plato’s, whilst other’s take the belief that it was the end of the ‘last great ice age’ which caused the disappearance of Atlantis (due to flooding, sounding familiar?), but Plato’s descriptions, whether believed or not does suggest that Atlantis built connections between Africa and Europe (later working into the Pangea theories) and that the sea delves further than we know;

“In the Atlantic there was an island, larger than Libya and Asia put together, and was the way to other islands, and from these you might pass to the whole of the opposite continent which surrounded the true ocean; for this sea which is within the Straits of Heracles is only a harbour, and the surrounding land may be most truly called a boundless continent. Now in this island of Atlantis there was a great and wonderful empire which had rule over the whole island and several others, and over parts of the continent. She was pre-eminent in courage and military skill, and was the leader of the Hellenes. And when the rest fell off from her, being compelled to stand alone, after having undergone the very extremity of danger, she defeated and triumphed over the invaders, and preserved from slavery those who were not yet subjugated, and generously liberated all the rest of us who dwell within the pillars. But afterwards there occurred violent earthquakes and floods; and in a single day and night of misfortune all your warlike men in a body sank into the earth, and the island of Atlantis in like manner disappeared in the depths of the sea. For which reason the sea in those parts is impassable and impenetrable; and this was caused by the subsidence of the island. ”

Plato’s final passage on Atlantis, as it sits translated from direct Greek (thus ignore any tense errors - they are intended).

Plato’s impenetrable and impassable ocean theory would fit with the territory of high seismic activity too - which does suggest Gibraltar as a decent proposal, especially as Plato seems to know the Straits by another name, but the same land mass.

Okay, I’ve now ranted on about Ancient history enough, I think (although it is another reason why I love this episode), and I honestly do still have such a soft spot for the history of Atlantis. Maybe one day I’ll change careers and become a historian, but for now I’m happy with my mission of trying to limit extinction and global disasters. If anyone wants any more knowledge on Atlantis, just ask and I’ll put it in a separate post - this one is going to be too long otherwise, and is meant to be about something else.

You can definitely see where they took their inspiration from. I seriously adored all the behind the scenes footage for this episode. Go and look at it for yourself, the detail they put into it all makes it worth it.

“Look at those shapes. This was definitely built by Mer-people! Start rolling. I’ll do a piece to camera.”

“You grabbed me, we ran. I don’t have the camera with me. And we shouldn’t be in here!”

“Mr Lemaire, you’re putting yourself and your wife in danger!”

Yeah, I don’t think he really cares Gordon, she’s just his glamorous assistant and biographer after all - wife is actually quite far down the list.

“Would you order MAX to assist Mr Lemaire from the area?”

“That won’t be necessary!”

Scared of a robot, are we now, Lemaire?

See, just saying MAX could have totally taken Kayo. In my opinion.

“We’re trapped and Thunderbird Four is on the other side. Is it still in one piece?”

“I’m picking up full readings.”

Hell, it better be! You only just rebuilt it in the last episode! Goodness, imagine that all over again.

“Hello Gordon.”

“Lady Penelope!”

“Aren’t you lucky that I was around to come and dig you out of trouble.”

“I’m even happy to be rescued by a Lady in a pink submarine if it gets me away from Lemaire.”

So don’t go knocking it Gordon! She could easily turn around, you know. And just say you’re happy to see her, Gordon! Goodness these two could have been together long ago if they weren’t both so stubborn (and Gordon a little silly).

“He is one royal pain in the-”

Language! You’re talking to a Lady (and an audience group consisting of children), Gordon! I think we can all agree with the proposed end of that sentence though. Lemaire is.

“Do not fire a missile at my submarine!”

Yeah... point proven, again, I think.

“Final proof that Mer-people exist!”

Did anyone mention yet that meeting a mermaid is Gordon’s dream? Just because, he doesn’t seem too excited about that prospect here. Brains on the other hand, he can die a happy man now.

“We’re going to rebuild it in the assembly hanger, full scale!”

Nice reference to the selfie-stick in this episode, which was at the time, brand new, of course. I am still bitter that said word has made it into the Oxford Dictionary - seriously, they dropped the level of the game by letting that in.

“Parker loves playing pinball, don’t you Parker?”

“Not when hI’m the ball, M’Lady.”

We’re really learning a lot about Parker’s free time lately - pinball and complaining about the weather... hmm, interesting.

It was a nice way to end - showing everyone going out to the pool - good to see them making use of that thing!

#Thunderbirds are go #Lost Kingdom #Re-Review series #Darkestwolfx #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Lady Penelope #Parker #Brains #MAX #Francois Lemaire #Atlantis #CITV #ITV #TAG #scott tracy #virgil tracy #Alan Tracy #Kayo #Thunderbird Four #Thunderbird Five #Behind the scenes #lost city #atlantis the lost empire #straits of gibraltar

[katharkness]

Vacillate Chapter 1

This is written for the 00Q Reverse Big Bang @00qreversebang​ , inspired by a work of art by 10ki Aoi @10kiaoi​. Thanks to 10ki Aoi for the art, Chestnut NOLA for adminstering the RBB, and KtwoNtwo for beta-ing.

When Q is called to join the assault on a mastermind's base, he makes a discovery that will change MI6 - for better, or worse?

Artwork: https://10kiaoi.tumblr.com/post/190349039422/hello-folks-00qreversebang-has-been-in-the

Vacillate Chapter 1

008 was the best. He knew his limits, he always exercised good judgement, and even when his more violent tendencies came out, he was appropriately discreet. He never took unnecessary risks. So when he called to say he was over his head, needed a full assault team, and the Quartermaster to deal with what he'd found, there was no doubt he'd get it.

Q would rather not be bundled into body armour and a riot policeman's helmet, but 008 had requested extraordinary support, thus, support 008 would get.

"R, how long since 008 went silent?" he asked.

"Five hours, nineteen minutes," R answered over the comms. "He wasn't very lucid."

"Acknowledged," Q grunted.

008 had been injured and holed up in a store room while the assault team and Q scrambled. Even with top-of-the-range military aircraft (thanks to the doctors who'd finally found the right anti-anxiety medicine), it took hours to get from London to the Black Sea.

"M? Recommend proceeding ASAP."

"Recommendation taken under advisement, Quartermaster," M answered. "I want more intel on what you're heading into."

"Sir, we can't get into their CCTV," R reported.

Q thought. "Is there a camera close enough for me to get to?" he asked.

"Let me check. Ah…yes. By team Gamma."

"Acknowledged," Q said.

He slipped away from team Alpha, his assigned bodyguard shadowing, and made his way around the side of the compound. Gamma Leader stepped aside to make room for him.

"Okay, R, I see the camera. I'm going to splice a control node into the wiring, and if you still can't get access, I'll try a short-range hack for you."

"Yes, sir. Standing by."

Q unslung his laptop bag and passed it to Gamma Leader, swinging his tool bag around for easier and quicker access. He locked eyes with his bodyguard and held up three fingers. Two. One. He scurried out, keeping firmly on the camera's blind side. He pressed against the wall, his bodyguard next to him.

He looked directly up at the camera, and rooted through his tool bag. Control node, wire strippers, extra wire, insulation tape…and he couldn't actually reach the camera. He gestured to the bodyguard, who saw the problem, knelt and offered a boost up.

Q could feel the eyes of team Gamma on him, and through their bodycams M, R and all the others running the mission back in London. Field work always felt so terribly exposed. A splice he could perform with his eyes closed at his desk became a lot more nerve-wracking when performed balanced on the back of your erstwhile bodyguard.

And then it was done. Q stepped down, repacked his tools, and darted back to safety. Gamma Leader clasped his shoulder, acknowledging the risk Q took for the sake of the teams. Q nodded back, before going for his comm.

"R, progress?"

"Signal's a little faint, and I'm having trouble clearing it up," she reported. "Can you boost it?"

"Standby." Q reclaimed his laptop, booted it up, and started work. He quickly tapped into his spliced node's signal, and bounced it through a number of TV satellites before routing it to MI6. "Is that better?"

"Much," R reported. "M?"

"Good work, Q," the head of MI6 replied. "Go back to team Alpha so we can proceed."

"Yes, sir," Q acknowledged, before peeling off and returning to his previous position. He slipped into position as the Chief of Staff started ordering teams to reposition.

"…and Delta go five hundred metres west-south-west," Tanner finished. "Sir? On your mark."

There were a few tense moments of shuffling as everyone finished positioning themselves.

"Mark."

Alpha Leader, 2, 3 and 4 rushed straight for their entry point, a garage door. Alpha2 tried the shutter, found it locked, and beckoned Alpha 5 over. Alpha 5 quickly and expertly laid a line of plastic explosive, connected the detonator, and waited.

Right on cue, there was a large explosion as team Beta blew the main entrance. The chatter of gunfire filled the air. Q knew teams Gamma and Delta were starting through their own breach point, Gamma through a side door and Delta up, over and down through a skylight. Taking advantage of the distraction, Alpha Leader nodded to Alpha 5, who detonated his explosives.

There was a nasty crunch of metal, followed by the door falling off. Alpha Leader waited for it to settle before signalling and leading the advance.

The interior of the building was starkly lit, clinical in the way only hospitals and illegal testing laboratories can manage. Team Beta's frontal assault meant they were unopposed as they headed first to 008's last reported location.

The store room the agent had sought refuge in was on the first of five sub-levels. They encountered two guards on the stairs. The guards only managed to squeeze off one shot between them before Alphas 2 and 3 dropped them.

"Alpha, take the next right, then second door on the left," R instructed, before returning to directing team Gamma to the compound's armoury.

Q kept pace, nested in the middle of the pack as his bodyguard protected his back. They stopped at the indicated door, and Alpha Leader rapped on it.

"008, your backup. Zulu, zulu, hotel, quebec."

When there was no response to the code phrase, Alpha Leader looked at Q, who nodded. Alpha Leader tried the door. He found it locked, so Alpha 3 passed him some lock picks. A bit of jiggling later, it opened smoothly, and Alpha Leader stepped out of view in case the potentially twitchy agent started firing.

There was nothing.

After a moment, Alpha Leader looked inside, and cursed, "Q? You better see…"

Q darted over, a sinking feeling in his stomach. His fears were confirmed. 008 was pressed into a corner, blood pooling at his feet, but limp, eyes open and unseeing, gun fallen from nerveless fingers. Q reached forward and felt for a pulse. None. The body was already cool.

"M, this is Q," he reported. "We've found 008. Agent down."

There was a deep sigh from multiple voices, "Acknowledged, Quartermaster," M replied for all. "Any idea how long…?"

"I'd say a few hours," Q replied.

It was almost a relief; if the body had been warm, they would have only just been too late. But a few hours was too long ago. They couldn't have been faster. Not that the loss wasn't still bitter.

Q bit back his grief. They still had a mission to complete. 008 had found something, and been shot for it. Now they had to work out what secrets had cost the agent his life.

"He said he made a map when exploring," Q said. "Is it…can anyone…?"

Q started methodically going through 008's pockets in a vain hope of finding something, anything.

"Sir." Alpha 2 passed him a page he'd found lying on a shelf.

Q took it. "That looks right, yes," he said. "R, are you seeing this?"

"Alpha Leader, could you angle your bodycam a little more left? Got it now. We'll match that up to the cameras," R reported.

"There's a large areas marked ʻLabʼ with three question marks," Q said. "Who's closest to that?"

"Alpha," R told him. "Beta is occupied and Gamma and Delta are in the wrong areas."

"Well, there's nothing we can do for 008, so request permission to investigate the lab?" Q asked.

"Granted, Quartermaster," M answered.

Alpha Leader leaned over the map, and Q stepped back to let the team pick out their route. His bodyguard shuffle him back into the centre of the pack as they moved off.

Beta's attack on the front gate seemed to have drawn out all the remaining guards, so they encountered no opposition as they headed deeper into the compound. The team reached ʻLab?ʼ with ease.

Q waited while the team secured the room, which was unusually quick, and without a shot being fired. Alpha Leader called Q in.

The room was large, twice the height of a normal room and filled with benches and cabinets. Every available open space was clustered with glassware, instruments and computers. One wall appeared to be a window onto an underground lake, while another had nearly a dozen man-sized giant tubes, one bubbling with something cloudy. There were two men and three women in lab coats with their hands in the air being covered by Alpha 3.

Q pulled off his riot helmet. "Is this everyone here?" he asked. "Five scientists and a double-handful of guards aren't enough for a facility this size."

"We haven't found anyone else," Alpha Leader reported.

"Um?" one of the women waved her hand. "Everyone else left a few weeks ago. We stayed to finish creating Subject 7. And he's a bit delicate at this stage, so…can we get back to that?"

Q blinked. "What's Subject 7?"

She pointed to the clouded tube. Q turned to it.

The clouds of bubbles shifted through the medium, and Q could barely make out a figure floating in it. He approached, getting a better look. It was a man, very muscular and very naked, with the face of James Bond.

Q stared up, laying a hand on the tube.

"Shit," he breathed. "Just what were they trying to accomplish here?"

#James Bond (Craig Movies #Q (James Bond) #James Bond #00q #00q reverse bang

[calebswitching]

two partners is twice the fun

a three-way scene between Maverick, Eric, and Caleb

backdated: Sunday, April 14

@ericxanders  @maverick-lynn

Caleb arrived several minutes before the appointed time, which wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who knew him.  Caleb was always early.  Especially if he felt like something was important.  Then he was extra early.  Or if someone was waiting on him.  He hated making people wait.  So he wasn’t surprised that he beat Maverick to Eric’s door.  He knelt on the floor anyway and waiting.  Several minutes later, he was starting to wonder if he should text Maverick.  Had he forgotten?  Surely not, he was looking forward to this just as much as Caleb was.  Thankfully, another half a minute brought Maverick hurrying down the hallway.  “I was just gonna text you,” he said, looking up, though he sent Maverick a reassuring smile.  

Maverick couldn’t believe he was running late. His first threesome at the institute, with two guys he really liked, and he was late! He couldn’t believe it, and he was never going to forgive himself if this night of fun had to start with a punishment. He ran from the submissive building towards the Dom dorms, flying down the hallway until he got to Eric’s dorm. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!” he gasped, and then smiled back at Caleb. He knelt down next to his friend, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to the other man’s cheek. “Just in case Sir doesn’t let me do that later,” he grinned.

Caleb grinned at the little kiss.  “You’re adorable.  I really hope he lets you do that some more.  The kissing, not the adorable part.  I don’t think he could stop you being adorable if he tried.”  He knocked on the door once Maverick was settled, and glanced at his watch.  Only three minutes late.  Hopefully it would be fine.

Eric couldn’t put words to how he was feeling; a healthy dose of nervous and excited. The latter was by far the dominating feeling. Having spent time with both submissives individually, he knew they’d be a great pair and he looked forward to orchestrating that. He was also incredibly curious to watch Maverick in a scene with another Dominant and he intended to fully play on Caleb’s Switch role and hopefully help make him more comfortable with the Dominant side of that. He clocked that they were late but still answered the door with a grin. ‘Who’s to blame for the lateness?’ He asked, a teasing lilt in his tone. ‘Stay on your hands and knees and follow me through to the spare bedroom. I’ve arranged quite the set-up and I think you’ll both enjoy it.’ He invited, stepping back to allow them in. He led them through to the spare bedroom, from which the bed had been replaced with a St. Andrew’s Cross. The room itself was brightly decorated, and immaculately organised. There were a few toys laid out, intended for ease of access. ‘Well, first impressions?’ He asked, turning to face them both.

Caleb was glad that Eric was grinning when he commented on their lateness.  He’d hate to start the evening off on the wrong foot.  Nonetheless, he shot a playful glare towards Maverick. It was too fun to tease the submissive.  Caleb crawled after Eric into the room, glancing toward Maverick as he did.  It was a little odd to be doing this with another sub.  Or, well, Mav was the only sub.  Caleb was here as a switch.  That was going to be odd, too.  But he trusted Eric to lead him through it.  At least Caleb wasn’t in charge this time.  He paused just inside the spare bedroom, sitting back on his heels to look around.  The St. Andrew’s cross worried him a little, but he pushed that away.  Eric wouldn’t do anything too heavy with them.  The toys that were out mostly looked fun, at least.  He looked up at Eric at the question, unsure how to answer, and found himself glancing towards Maverick.  “Uh…  It looks like you went to a lot of work to set this up, Sir.”  Where had he gotten that St. Andrew’s cross?  It looked heavy.

Mav instantly felt guilty as soon as the door opened and Eric mentioned the lateness. “I’m sorry, Sir, it’s my fault,” he said, as he saw Caleb’s playful glare. He was glad that Eric seemed to be taking it okay, though, and then nodded as he was told to crawl along with Caleb. He crawled alongside the switch into one of the spare bedrooms. Every time he’d stayed over with Eric it had been in the main bedroom, and he had to wonder if Eric had been hiding this set up all that time. “Um, Sir, if you’ve been hiding a St Andrew’s Cross in here all this time, I’m gonna throw a hissy fit,” he grinned up at the Dom.

‘Are you going to throw more of a hissy fit if I tell you that you’re not the one who’s going to be tied to it today?’ He countered, giving Maverick and Caleb a playful wink. His focus for this whole thing was to keep it fun. He felt very aware that it was a difficult place for Caleb to get to and he wanted to make sure he made the whole affair as easy as possible. ‘First of all, I want to make it very clear that either one of you can safeword at any time. I always find it’s more complicated when more people are involved but I think we can agree that no-one is going to be angry yeah?’ He could feel that familiar spark of excited electricity run through his body as he looked them over. ‘I want both of you to give your safeword so everyone is aware of it then strip, leave your clothes to the side and come back to kneel for me.’ He instructed.

Caleb had to duck his head to hide his grin at Maverick's threat. He was a little scandalized that Maverick would be so sassy to Sir Eric, but he also knew that Mav was an incurable sassypants, so it wasn't a surprise, and that Mav would know better than he would how much Sir Eric would let them get away with. He nodded at the instruction. “Mine is red, Sir.”. He got up to strip quicky, put his clothes in a neat pile by the door, then dropped to the ground again and crawled to the middle of the room where he sat back on his heels.

Maverick pouted up at Eric, before grinning a little. “Nuh uh, Sir,” he said as he shook his head, “I’ll be happy with whatever ya’ll decide for me,” he added sincerely, turning to smile at Caleb for a moment. He knew the plan was for Caleb to be dominant with him at least a little, and Mav was looking forward to that kicking in. He nodded up at Eric once the Dominant spoke. “Mine is Mary Poppins, because she’s scary as hell and I’d never, ever say her name in any other context,” Mav nodded.

‘Good boys.’ The praise felt right coming from his mouth; it felt good to make it plural and he threaded his fingers through each of their hairs as he spoke. ‘Rules then, I’ve done scenes with you both before and I think you know you’re not allowed to cum unless I give you premission. For the duration of this scene, I don’t want either of you to touch the other unless I’ve instructed you to do so or given you my permission.’ he explained, laying out his basic expectations. He kept them simple because he didn’t want to run the risk of overwhelming or complicating what they were going to do. ‘You, pet, get to feature in a very lucky spectator role for the time being. We’ll call that your punishment for being late.’ he teased, making it clear that it wasn’t intended to be a punishment at all. ‘I want you bent over that bench.’ he directed. ‘You’re going to be riding a toy of Caleb’s choice and it’s his responsibility to prep you for it.’ he explained. ‘So, off you go and put that ass in the air for us to admire.’ he directed before turning to Caleb. ‘This part is up to you gorgeous. I have a few different options for you to choose from.’ he advised, beckoning him to crawl forward so he could give him the choice between three dildos, all varying in girth and length. ‘We’re going to set this up to amuse Maverick while I have a little fun with you. You pick what you want to see him take and then it’s your responsibility to prep him properly. What’s your pick?’

Caleb nodded as the rules were paid out. They made perfect sense, easy rules to follow. When Eric moved on to Caleb's next job, he found some of his worry easing. He'd been concerned about trying out a more dominant role again, but this wasn't difficult. Eric was calling the shots, which was the important part. Caleb was perfectly happy to play with Maverick on Eric's orders. “Yes, Sir,” he agreed as he crawled to the toys to take a better look at them. He chose one that wasn't any longer than average, but was fairly thick, mostly because it was what he would choose for himself if he were the one it were to be used on. “This one, Sir, if that's alright?” He looked to Eric for a response, then took the toy and a bottle of lube and crawled over to Maverick.

Maverick listened intently to everyone Eric told them about the scene in general, and told him to do specifically, and nodded his understanding. “Yes Sir! No cumming, no touching, ass in the air!” he grinned happily, before crawling over to the bench. He laid himself over it and stuck his ass in the air as high as he could manage, and then set his legs apart as much as possible so he could show off his eager little hole to the other men.

‘You’re allowed to be on your feet Caleb.’ he invited, making a point of using his name where he tried not to use Maverick’s. ‘Have fun with him.’ he encouraged, giving Mav’s ass a teasing swat. ‘He’s a good boy don’t you think? He deserves our attention for a little while. He took the toy from Caleb and set it up across the room where he wanted it, using the suction cup to secure it in place. He watched from his spot as Caleb started to play with Maverick before he crossed the room again to join them.

“Thank you, Sir,” Caleb said as he stood up and moved behind Maverick. He smiled, both at Mav’s obvious delight at the situation, and at Eric's little teases. “A very good boy,” he agreed, running a hand over Mav's ass. He thumbed Mav's opening for a bit before he opened the lube and slicked up the fingers of one hand. He started with just one, but added a second not long after.

Maverick preened happily under the compliments he was given, and wiggled his ass slightly as he felt Eric swat it, and then Caleb rub a hand over it. He loved that the two men were entirely focused on his butt right now, and he knew his dick enjoyed that attention too when he felt press against the bench. He gasped softly as he felt Caleb beginning to touch and play with his hole. “Thank you, Sirs,” he whimpered, from the back of his throat.

He moved to stand behind Caleb and slid one arm around his waist. He palmed lightly at his crotch, teasing his fingers back and forth over his length. ‘Such a greedy slut aren’t you Mav?’ He teased. ‘Look at how eager he is. I think he can take more than two fingers.’ He mused, pressing a kiss to Caleb’s shoulder. ‘Do you mind if I help?’ He asked as he slid his free hand down Caleb’s arm and pressed his pointer finger past the tight ring of muscle alongside the two fingers Caleb was already thrusting. ‘Fuck,’ He grunted, starting to stroke Caleb’s cock, ‘you both feel so good.’ He hummed, ducking his head to mouth against the Switch’s neck.

It was definitely weird to be included in Maverick’s “sirs,” even though he had called him Sir before.  It felt like he was putting him on the same level as Eric, which felt kinda wrong.  But it was just a momentary feeling, easy to shake off, especially since playing with Mav’s ass was really rather fun.  He looked up when Eric came up behind him and smiled at the Dom.  “Of course, Sir.”  He shifted over a little so he wasn’t obstructing Eric’s access to Mav’s ass.  He bit his lip as Eric touched his cock, and leaned back a little against the Dom.  He liked having Eric behind him like this.  

Caleb’s fingers inside him were already amazing enough, but then when Eric was suddenly behind him too, and Mav could tell Eric was helping, it was instantly so much better. Two men’s fingers inside him, and all Mav could do was whine and try to push back against those fingers. “Sirs, please...please give me more,” he gasped out needily, as he looked over his shoulder at the other men. “Please, Sir Eric? Tell...fuck, tell Sir Caleb to use me,” he whined.

There was something incredibly intense about what they were doing; at least that’s how he felt and for several long moments, his gaze was focused entirely on his finger pressing inside Maverick alongside Caleb’s digits. He found a spot he liked on Caleb’s neck and nuzzled against it, nipping slightly before opting to suck a bruise against the otherwise flawless skin. He only pulled back when he heard Maverick start to beg. ‘Listen to him,’ he hummed, speaking to Caleb but loudly enough for Mav to overhear. ‘That needy slut thinks he’s earned your cock. He hasn’t come close to that.’ He pulled his hand back and pulled Caleb’s with him. ‘I think that might be his way of telling us he’s ready, what do you think?’ He gave Caleb’s length a squeeze before he pulled back from him too. ‘Pet, I have a toy set up for you. Go put on a show for us. I think Caleb wants to see how well you can take it as much as I do.’ He grinned, remaining in hand to help Maverick return to his feet and get into position as he needed. Satisfied that he was in position and doing as asked, he allowed his attention to return to Caleb. ‘And now I get to enjoy you beautiful.’ He guided him towards a spot in the middle of the room, directly in Maverick’s eyeline and gestured for him to hold his arms out. ‘I’m gonna have your arms above your head.’ He explained, gesturing up. ‘By looping the rope through that ring. You’re feet will remain on the ground but the rope will hold you up and give you support. You made such beautiful sounds for me the last time we tried impact play; I want to push that a little farther.’

Caleb grinned when Maverick started to beg.  So this was what it felt like to be on the other side of that.  No wonder Doms liked it so much.  It was nothing short of a thrill to see how he’d affected Mav so strongly.  And that on top of the way Eric was touching him and kissing and biting his skin, Caleb was quickly getting hard as well. He glanced toward Eric when the Dom spoke, and grinned again.  “I think he’s ready to show us how much he wants it, though, Sir,” he added.  He pulled out his fingers and wiped them on Maverick’s thighs before pulling back.  He wanted to watch Maverick use the toy Eric had for him, but Caleb’s attention was quickly pulled back to Eric.  He nodded and complied, giving his wrists to Eric to bind.  “Yes, Sir,” he said softly, with another, more shy smile.  “We’re gonna make Mav jealous, though, Sir.”

Mav whined as he heard Eric teasingly talk about him and how he hadn’t earned Caleb’s cock yet. He’d been pretty sure he wasn’t going to get rewarded with anyone’s cock for a while, but that wasn’t going to stop him begging like the little slut he could be. There was nothing like having the attention of these two men, and before he knew it, there was no fingers inside him anymore, and Eric was helping him to his feet. “Yes Sir, I’ll be on a real good show,” he swore, as he hurried over to the toy. He squatted down as he turned to face them both, and it was only then that he realised they were going to continue playing. Mav whined loudly as he began to lower himself on the toy. “Super...jealous,” he gasped out, as the toy slid into him.

‘What do you mean jealous?’ He winked. ‘There’s a cock for him to play with.’ he pointed out, glancing back at Maverick.  He wasn’t at all disappointed, watching the submissive already take the exact position and action expected of him. He reached up to loop the rope through the ring on the ceiling and pulled it tight, securing it so that it would support Caleb. ‘Now don’t you make a pretty picture.’ he mused, standing slightly in front and to the side of him so as not to block Maverick’s view. ‘What do you think pet?’ he asked, prompting Mav for an opinion. He blocked his view then and trailed his hands up from Caleb’s hips and over his torso. He enjoyed the freedom to simply touch and explore his body, in search for sensitive spots not yet discovered. He closed his fingers around a stiffened nipple and tweaked it sharply, leaning in to kiss him as he did so.

Caleb smiled, amused, as Eric teased Maverick.  “He’d be jealous any time someone other than him gets to have a red bottom,” he added as Eric lifted his wrists up until they were held comfortably above his head.  He wasn’t stretched out, just held, and if he tugged a little he could feel the support of the ropes.  He turned his hands so that he could grip the ropes where they went from his wrists up towards the ceiling.  It almost felt more like something to give him stability than to keep him from moving.  And then Eric started touching him, and Caleb let out a slow breath and let himself enjoy it.  He inhaled sharply when Eric pinched his nipple, and he could feel the way his cock jerked at the flash of pain.

“He’s not wrong, Sir,” Mav called out to Eric, with a grin on his face. He gripped the back of the stool with one hand as he rode the toy, and wondered if he could convince Eric to keep a chair like this for whenever he came over. He let out a sharp, needy groan as he came down on the dildo at a different angle, and it pushed hard against his sweet spot. “Fuck,” he swore softly, before looking up at Eric and realising the man had moved closer. He smiled as he looked over at Caleb, and licked his lips. “I think Sir Caleb looks amazing, Sir, I can’t wait to get to touch him,” he grinned, before watching Eric and Caleb together. His own dick was achingly hard as he rode the toy and watched these two incredibly handsome men together.

His cock had definitely stirred to attention, thrilled with the two incredible submissives he had to play with. They both looked amazing, sounded amazing and the trust that they so willingly placed in him fuelled his ego. ‘And who says you’re going to get to touch him?’ He teased. ‘You seem to like that set-up, perhaps I’ll leave you fucking yourself on the toy while I do all the touching.’ He winked. He moved away from Caleb to pick up the tools he wanted; nipple clamps, a flogger and a cane and returned to stand in front of him. ‘Since you responded so well to my fingers —‘ he offered by way of explanation as he secured each clamp, tightening it carefully. He linked a chain between with a small weight attached just to provide a little drag. ‘Perfect.’ He announced with a grin. ‘We played with a flogger before, but I’m going to introduce a cane this time; a much sharper pain that what we played with before.’ He explained before taking his position behind him. He didn’t give him more warning than that before he started to land firm smacks with his hand in order to warm up his skin. As soon as possible, he switched to the flogger and rolled his wrist, starting a consistent assault against his rapidly reddening skin.

Caleb watched Eric closely, eyeing the instruments he brought. Nothing Caleb wasn't familiar and fairly comfortable with. He hissed, just a little, when clamps were placed on him. They ached immediately, and he knew it would only get worse the longer they stayed. But it was unmistakable the way his cock hardened when they went on. In comparison, the first few swats from Eric were hardly even painful, and mostly just felt nice. Even as he switched to the flogger and the sensation moved into actual pain, it still sent a pleasant warmth blossoming on Caleb's ass. Between that and the clamps, not to mention watching Maverick, Caleb was fully erect now.

Maverick whined softly at the gentle teasing from Eric, and looked up at the Dom. “But we could tease him so good together, Sir, or...or I could be a real good slut for ya both,” he pleaded, his southern accent deepening as he got more turned on, and more needy. He watched them both together, Eric talking to Caleb about the cane, and wished it was him about to get hurt. He could take it so well, and he wanted it so badly. Again, Mav whined when he saw how erect Caleb was, and openly licked his lips.

‘I have no doubt you’ll be a wonderful slut for both of us on demand Mav. In fact, why don’t you take a break from what you’re doing.’ He instructed, beckoning him closer. ‘Perhaps you should be treated to a better view. I want you to kneel behind us, at the side of the St Andrew’s Cross; you’ll get a perfect view of Caleb’s ass and that puts you in position for what I have planned next.’ He directed, waiting until Maverick was positioned as directed before he continued. ‘You know, I haven’t actually used one of these since I arrived here.’ He remarked, swishing the cane through the air but not making contact with anything. ‘Just five seats Caleb.’ He explained, ‘and I want to hear you counting and thanking me for each one.’ He swung, and landed the cane perfectly across both cheeks and thrilled at seeing the welt immediately start to bloom. Each strike landed perfectly after that, never in the same place therefore leaving five stunning red lines.

Caleb was honestly starting to feel bad for Mav as he watched the boy whining and pleading.  No one wanted to be ignored during a scene.  He kept his mouth shut, though.  The flogger was heating his ass nicely, and he didn’t want to say anything that might make Eric stop.  He did eventually anyway, though, and Caleb turned his head to watch him out of the corner of his eye.  “Yes, Sir,” he said with a nod.  He could certainly take more than five, but that was alright.  He was sure Eric had plans for what would happen next, and he didn’t want to derail them.  When the cane struck him, he jerked and gasped, dancing a couple inches forward, though held mostly in place by the ropes around his wrists.  “One, thank you Sir,” he managed, and did the same for each of the next four, though he was increasingly out of breath and starting to stutter.  

Mav whimpered as he stopped riding the toy, and nodded as Eric spoke. “Y...yes Sir,” he said softly. He moved quickly, biting down on his bottom lip as he moved. “Your ass looks amazing, Sir Caleb,” Mav smiled, as he knelt to the side of the cross, and watched eagerly. He was assuming Eric was about to fuck Caleb in front of him, and he was eager to see it happen, but when Eric started swishing the cane around, he grinned and waited. He gasped as he watched the cane make contact with Caleb’s ass, and ached to be in Caleb’s position. Mav could almost feel the cane hitting his own ass, he wanted it so badly.

‘You’ve both been such good boys.’ he praised, genuinely in awe of the two submissives. At the beginning of the week, he hadn’t seen something as incredible as this coming and he had, for a while, been doubting his own abilities as a Dominant. This, watching the way Maverick and Caleb responded so beautifully, obeyed so perfectly, put all those concerns at rest. He felt better than he had in weeks. ‘I promise the reward is coming.’ he hummed as he moved around to Caleb’s front. ‘I’m going to bring your arms down beautiful. We’re going to move you to the cross and get you bound there. I’m going to need your help to give our sweet Maverick a very much deserved treat.’ he grinned as he worked to free Caleb. He guided him to the cross, instructed him on how to position himself and secured the thick leather cuffs around his wrists and his ankles; then the belt around his waist. This bondage was significantly more secure; designed to hold him up even if he couldn’t keep himself up right. He twisted his fingers into Maverick’s hair, and gave a sharp tug to guide him in front of Caleb. ‘Caleb, I know all Mav wants right now is to be able to take your cock between his lips; and he’s been so good. You both have so I want to give both of you want you want.’ he explained, hand still in Mav’s hair while his other hand rested on Caleb’s hip. ‘Here’s the thing though, he’s not allowed to suck you, touch you until you tell him too. Give him direction beautiful. Tell him what you want.’ he encouraged. ‘I’m right here; I’ve got both of you. You can give this to him.’

Caleb watched Maverick, and he would have been concerned by how needy he looked, but Caleb couldn't imagine that Eric was planning on making him just kneel there for the rest of the scene. When Eric started to until him, Caleb wanted to protest that he could take more, but he bit his lip and stayed quiet. And to be fair, his ass already felt like it was going to be sore for days, and the clamps on his nipples ached something fierce. He only noticed once Eric moved him that his cock was already hard, but it didn't surprise him. This kind of pain always went straight to his dick. He was obedient and pliant as Eric bound him to the St Andrew's cross, but at the new instructions, he looked up in surprise. In the immediacy and intoxication of the scene, he'd forgotten that he was supposed to be more dominant than Maverick. That had been one of the goals. “Yes, Sir,” he said, trying not to look as doubtful as he felt, and turned to look down at Maverick. Mav looked gorgeous and eager on his knees, and that at least was helpful. “Um, go ahead, Mav. You can use your mouth.”

Maverick smiled at Eric’s compliment. He thought Caleb had done amazing, as well as Eric, and he couldn’t wait to be able to tell them that after the scene. He watched with eager eyes as Eric gently moved Caleb and tied him to the cross, and was instantly jealous. He wanted to be on the cross so badly, but really, he wanted everything that was happening to Caleb, and that was the point. Eric wanted him in the role he was in right now, and Mav knew that ultimately, that was all he needed to know. He looked up as soon as he felt Eric’s fingers in his hair, and groaned as he was tugged along. The tugging made his dick even harder and needier, but Mav did his best to ignore that need as much as he could. Mav whimpered as he realised what was about to happen and he watched Sir Caleb eagerly, expectantly, and grinned as Caleb gave him a slightly vague order. “Thank you, Sirs,” Mav said quickly, before leaning in and pressing soft kisses to Caleb’s balls. He worked his way up, smothering kisses along Caleb’s length, before taking it into his mouth and groaning in the most needy, slutty way possible.

‘Good boy.’ he breathed, encouraging Maverick to keep going. ‘You’re only allowed to do what Caleb tells you to do.’ he grinned, stepping in a little closer to stand between the two submissives, giving him easier access to touch both of them. ‘Be more specific Caleb. Tell him exactly what you like; he wants to give it to you.’ he enthused. He gave a light tug to Maverick’s hair and drew him back from Caleb’s cock.

Caleb dropped his head back, breathing heavily already.  He was worked up from the pain and from watching Mav, so he didn’t know how long he’d last.  Particularly because dear god Mav was hot like this, and enthusiastic, and thorough.  It was all Caleb could do not to try to buck his hips forward, even though he knew the restraints would stop him.  He moaned when Mav finally took his cock actually into his mouth.  It felt amazing, all hot wet friction.  He looked over at Eric helplessly when Eric told him to be more specific.  How was he supposed to tell Mav what he liked?  Caleb gave blow jobs, he didn’t receive them.  This was an anomaly.  A fantastic anomaly, but he had no idea what to ask for.  “Um…  use- use your tongue, Mav.   On the head.”  He looked at Eric again, hoping that was right.

Mav whined as he was pulled away from Caleb’s cock, a line of drool connecting his puffed lips to Caleb’s cock. He wanted to suck Caleb so badly, and he was struggling to keep control of himself at the same time. It was a heady mixture, to have his cock demanding so much attention from him, while not even being able to do anything. But he was kneeling next to Sir Eric, who was amazing and perfect, and Caleb, who he was beginning to truly care for and admire, but his own cock and needs were starting to dominate his thoughts. Mav had been able to control his libido for so long, he had no idea how to keep himself calm. He whimpered again, as Caleb spoke. “Y...yes, Sir Caleb,” he gasped, and leaned in to run his tongue over Caleb’s cock head.

‘Good boy Caleb.’ He hummed, pressing his lips against the Switch’s shoulder in praise. He was aware of just how new this was for Caleb, how difficult and part of him had thought perhaps it would be easier if he were in subspace. In a sense, he was giving Mav orders because he had given him an order to do so. He wasn’t sure how well it worked in practice but that was something he’d learn later. He reached up to give the weighted chain a light tug before he opted to remove it; it had been on long enough and he could only imagine the Switch needed some relief. ‘You’re doing so well Mav.’ He massaged his fingers against his scalp, lighter now. ‘I want you both to hold out a little longer. How’re you both feeling?’ He prompted, looking between them.

Caleb was hardly able to think right now, there were too many sensations.  He gasped and panted and writhed when Eric took the clamps off his nipples and the blood went flooding back in.  It was amazing how much they could hurt even once the clamps were gone.  And then Maverick’s mouth was on him again, and it was all Caleb could do not to come right there.  “W-wait,” he cried, twisting in his bonds but unable to pull away.  “Wait, Mav, stop, stop, please!”  He panted for a moment, not looking at Eric, worried he’d be disappointed.  “I’m sorry, I- I couldn’t, I was going to come, I’m sorry.”

Mav loved the taste of Caleb’s cock on his tongue, and he tried his hardest to focus on giving pleasure, rather than the pleasure he was feeling. He had to be good, he had to focus on Caleb and Eric, because they deserved that. He felt Eric’s fingers massaging his scalp at the same time he heard the Dom compliment him, and it felt so good, but then Eric followed it up with telling them both they needed to last longer. Maverick wanted to cry with the effort it was taking to hold back his own need without putting the scene at risk, but being told he’d have to last longer was almost too much. Then, Caleb cried out and Mav instantly pulled back, worried he’d somehow hurt Caleb. He let out a relieved breath as Caleb spoke again, and panted softly. “M...me too, Sir, me too. I can’t...I can’t keep holding it back, I’ve never had a threesome like this before and its so hot and amazing, but I can’t hold back, Sirs, I can’t, I’m trying real hard, but I need help, please?” Mav whimpered quietly, inching closer to Eric. “Please Sir?”

Both his boys needed something at the same time, and this was where he’d always thought a threesome like this could become too intense and impossible to manage. But he didn’t feel that way. ‘That’s okay.’ He soothed, maintaining physical contact with them both as he spoke. ‘You’re both so good for telling me. My good boys.’ He smiled, hoping to reassure them of any concerns they had. ‘Do you need help holding back Caleb or do you just need a break? I promise I’m not going to make you wait for too much longer.’ He assured first of all, continuing to stroke through Maverick’s hair. ‘You, we can help pet.’ He promised, bending over to press a kiss against his hair. He’d been taught recently about how to fashion a cock ring of sorts through bondage, and he decided quickly that would be the best option for Mav. ‘You can take a breath Caleb. No-one is going to touch you until you feel ready for it again. Take your time; we’re both happy to be here with you. We can wait.’ He looked the Switch in the eyes as he spoke, giving him the most reassuring smile he could. ‘As for you Pet, stand up for me; legs apart, hands behind your back.’ He instructed, while he went to grab a length of silk rope. He bound him in a practiced fashion, having spent hours imitating what he’d been shown in class. ‘How does that feel sweet boy?’ He asked softly. ‘How are you both feeling?’ He prompted. ‘Do you want to continue?’

Caleb was very relieved when Mav said he needed the break too.  It meant that Caleb wasn’t being selfish and stopping the scene only for himself and his own inabilities.  And Eric kept petting him, and told them both how good they were, and Caleb relaxed and enjoyed it.  Everything was still okay.  “I’m okay, Sir,” he said, nodding, though he was still sweating and breathing hard.  “I just need a minute, please.”  He watched Eric fashion a cock ring for Mav, in a way he’d never seen before.  It was clever, using rope like that.  By the time Eric was done, Caleb had himself under control again.  “I can keep going, Sir.  Thank you for letting me take a break.”

Mav was embarrassed that he’d had to ask for him controlling himself, but it didn’t surprise him at all that Eric was helpful and kind. He stood up when he was told to, his dick rock hard and drooling just a little. He moved his legs apart, and put his hands behind his back. He took a deep breath, as Eric began to bind him with a silk rope. “I...I like it, Sir,” he nodded, biting his lip. “I just really don’t wanna disappoint either of ya,” he admitted, ducking his head a little. “Maybe I could have a chastity device? I really don’t need to cum tonight, I just need help with controlling myself.”

‘I think it’s for me to decide whether or not you cum tonight pet.’ he reminded him. He knew Maverick enjoyed denial, he knew he got a kick out of being used but sometimes, Eric wanted to see the submissive fall apart. He wanted to bring him that pleasure. He hadn’t actually made up his mind what would happen tonight. He couldn’t speak for Caleb but he assumed the Switch felt the same. Instead, he spoke to both of them and only spoke for himself. ‘Neither of you are disappointing me. You’re both being incredible. I am so proud of you both.’ he reminded them. With a click of his fingers, a now somewhat familiar gesture, he directed Maverick back to his knees and twisted his fingers in his hair. ‘I want the orders to come from me now Caleb. I think you might enjoy this more if you’re not thinking so much.’ He might have picked it up wrong but he couldn’t help but feel that Caleb was struggling with being able to direct Maverick. ‘All I want you to focus on is asking my permission when you need to let go okay?’ He gave Maverick’s hair a sharp tug and drew him forwards. ‘Open your mouth pet. I’m going to show you how far down you should be taking his cock.’

Caleb nodded when Eric spoke to him, and smiled a little.  He was really grateful for the praise.  He knew he was too prone to worry, but he couldn’t stop at the best of times, and especially not while in subspace.  It was so good to be told that he was being good, so he could quiet the anxiety.  “Yes, Sir,” he answered when Eric told him that he was takin over giving orders.  That was a relief. Telling Mav what to do hadn’t been awful, but Caleb just felt like he wasn’t any good at it.  It was so much easier just to let Eric be in control.

Mav instantly moved to his knees as soon as Eric clicked his fingers. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, so he could enjoy the feeling of the Dom’s fingers in his hair, and fought against the urge to wrap his arms around Eric’s legs and hold onto him. He looked up, watching and waiting to see what would happen next, and he grinned eagerly to hear that he was going to get to suck Caleb again. Mav opened his mouth wide, practically vibrating with the need to suck Caleb.

He flashed a grin and guided Maverick forward until he had taken the swollen head of Caleb’s length between his lips. ‘Good boys.’ He hummed, as his fingers slid to the back of his head. ‘But I know you can take so much more.’ He applied firm pressure to the back of his head, pushing him to take more of Caleb’s cock. He moved slowly so as to give him time to breathe in through his nose; but he didn’t stop until Mav’s nose was pressed against Caleb. He held him there, careful to release him when he started to struggle. ‘That’s what I want to see every time slut.’ He instructed him. ‘I want you swallowing every inch of his cock.’ He kept his fingers in his hair although he let him move himself, only pushing his head when he suspected Maverick wasn’t pushing himself quite hard enough. With his free hand, he reached up to give Caleb’s nipple a rough tug. ‘I want to hear you beautiful. Let him know how he’s doing.’ He teased.

Caleb bit down hard on his lip to keep from moaning loudly when Maverick went down on him again. And then Sir Eric pushed Maverick all the way down his cock, and Caleb was shaking with how good it felt and how overwhelmed his senses were. He cried out when Eric pinched his sore nipple. “I… I… god, he, Mav- god, it- it's good, so good…”  He was twisting and squirming in his bonds, and he knew it wouldn't be long. He looked over at Sir Eric desperately. “Sir, I'm so close…”

Mav groaned desperately as Eric forced him to take all of Caleb’s delicious cock. For a moment, Mav wondered if it was possible to rate whose cock tasted the most delicious in the whole school, and for a second, debated making a spreadsheet about it. He was pretty sure Sir Eric would be at the top. Caleb’s moans instantly drew him out of his thoughts. He didn’t mean to make things more intense for Caleb, but all he could think about was the man he was blowing was close to cumming, and Mav wanted it. He wanted to taste Caleb. He automatically did his best to bring Caleb off quickly.

He pushed both his boys just a little further; he was so engrossed in the show they were putting on for him and he thrilled at their complete submission and trust. He studied Caleb carefully, trying to make a note of as many expressions and physical indications that he was reaching his limit; all things that would come in useful the next time he decided to play with orgasm control. ‘When he cums, I want you to swallow everything Mav. I want you to lick your lips clean. I want you to lick him clean. You’ve worked so hard, you’ve been so good; you deserve a treat.’ he grinned before tweaking Caleb’s nipple as little rougher than last time. ‘I’m going to count back from five beautiful; that’s all I need you to hold out and then you can cum.’ he explained, maintaining physical contact with both of them. ‘Five, four, three, two, one.’ he counted. ‘Now cum for me beautiful.’

Caleb groaned loudly when Eric pinched his sore, puffy nipple.  He was so close, and Maverick seemed to be trying his hardest to make him come.  “Please, please,” he moaned as he writhed in his bonds, tugging on the cuffs.  “Please, please, Sir, oh god, please…”  Holding out was torture, and he was about to come whether he liked it or not, but finally Eric got to one and gave him permission, and barely a second later Caleb’s hips jerked as he shot into Maverick’s mouth with a cry.

Maverick felt like it was Christmas morning. He was working so hard to give Caleb every little bit of pleasure he could, and therefore please Eric too, but he really wanted that delicious present that Caleb was holding back. He heard Eric’s kind words to him, and listened to the Dom telling Caleb he could cum. Finally, he felt Caleb shooting into his mouth, and he almost cried with relief. Earning this was genuinely more important to Maverick than getting off himself. Once Caleb was done, he pulled back a little and raised his head, opening his mouth to show Eric and Caleb the contents, before swallowing and licking his lips clean. Mav then instantly began to lick very gently at Caleb’s cock, knowing his own dick was often pretty sensitive after an intense orgasm.

The pride he felt in them was incredible. He had been very conscious going into this scene that he was demanding a lot; he held them both to the highest standards and was left feeling like his expectations had been surpassed. He encouraged Caleb through his orgasm; enjoying every second of the boy coming completely undone and he watched Maverick swallow everything he was given. He knew the submissive’s own pleasure wasn’t even on is radar and thrilled at the way he took such satisfaction in serving. ‘Good boys isn’t really a fitting term for the pair of you.’ he remarked, giving a gentle tug to Maverick’s hair to pull him back. ‘I don’t have a fitting term to tell you both how proud I am of you.’ he continued. ‘Take a minute, catch your breath.’ he encouraged. His touches were featherlight now but he didn’t stop touching them; it was as much for him as it was for them. ‘How are you both feeling? Are you okay?’

Not once in his life had someone licked Caleb’s dick clean after he came.  He was so sensitive after his orgasm, but Maverick’s gentle, careful touches were so sweet.  “Th-thank you,” he stuttered, still catching his breath.  He looked over at Eric with a dopey little smile that spoke of a post-orgasmic haze.  “Feel really good, Sir,” he mumbled.  “Thank you so much.  Mav’s mouth… so good…”

Mav looked up again as soon as he felt Eric tugging on his hair, and he gave the happiest smile up towards the Dom. He looked back at Caleb, still smiling. “We’re good boys,” he said eagerly, revelling in the compliments Eric was heaping on both of them. Mav inched a little closer to Eric, and nuzzled against the other man’s thigh when Eric told him both he was so proud of them.

‘He does have such a wonderful mouth doesn’t he?’ he agreed, a fond smile playing on his lips as he spoke about Maverick over his head. He addressed both of them next, explaining what was going to happen. ‘I’m going to undo Caleb’s bondage, and then I think the three of us should pile into my too-big-for-one-person bed and take a breather.’ he nodded. ‘I don’t know about either of you but all I want now is for my two favourite boys to be tucked up against my side.’ He had contemplated letting Maverick have his orgasm too but had ultimately decided against it; he knew the submissive almost preferred for his cock to be ignored at times. It was something he could revisit later. His own pleasure hadn’t even crossed his mind; he’d simply enjoyed playing with Caleb and Mav, enjoyed pushing them to their limits. He moved away from Maverick only so he could, with careful fingers, undo every strap the secured Caleb in position. He kept his arm around his waist to support him. ‘Stand up for me Mav.’ he requested. ‘I want you to walk with me.’ he requested, out of desire to be able to walk while holding him too.

Caleb was worn out but happy, smiling softly at Eric, until he realized that Eric was talking like the scene was over.  “But… Sir…” He frowned aw Eric undid his straps and freed him. He leaned heavily on Eric, as his legs didn't want to hold his weight.  He would have pulled away otherwise. “Sir, please…” He reached down towards Eric's cock, but stopped short of touching him. “You didn't let us get you off.”

Mav grinned happily as Eric complimented him, by talking over his head to Caleb. He loved getting to show off his skills, especially for Doms he really liked. He quickly stood up when Eric told him to, and was about to walk away with both of them, before he frowned as Caleb spoke. His mouth fell open in surprise, and he shook his head. “Sir, you need to get off! It’s only right,” Mav said softly, pouting at Eric.

‘I don’t need to get off.’ He replied, shaking his head fondly. ‘Trust me, it was enough of a treat to play Dom for the two of you. You’re both all kinds of incredible.’ He laughed. ‘And we have all afternoon and all night to play don’t we?’ He reminded them. ‘Plenty of time for you to salivate over my cock before I let you suck.’ He winked. ‘Right now, I want to take care of you too; make sure you’re both feeling safe and happy.’

Caleb looked dismayed, but only briefly. He ducked his head and tried to school his expression into something more appropriately obedient and appreciative.  “Yes, Sir.  It.. it’s not that we’re not grateful, Sir.”  He just had never experienced a Dominant who wouldn’t prioritize his own pleasure in a scene.  But he was relieved, as well, that Sir Eric was going to let him lay down, because he was feeling unsteady, and he was leaning heavily on Eric as they headed to the bedroom.

Mav nodded as Eric reminded them that they had all afternoon to play, and he outright giggled as Eric teased them by talking how they would salivate over his cock. “I hope you mean that, Sir. If anyone deserves two eager boys sucking him off, it’s you,” Mav said sincerely and eagerly, walking beside the Dom and Caleb as they made their way into the bedroom.

‘How could any Dominant pass up the chance to have two submissives like you on their knees hm? Trust me, you’ll have your taste and I’ll get my pleasure.’ He winked. He guided them to the bed, and let Caleb sit. ‘For now however, I want to get you both cleaned up a little, get some water, order some food and just lay in bed for a while.’ He announced; his decision made. He grinned at the two boys; two boys who had pushed themselves to their very limits and trusted him to take care of them. That was a feeling unlike any other and one he hoped to replicate with them again, and again.

#eric #maverick

[oliveraaliyah1994]

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[moviesyndrome]

Movie Syndrome’s Film of The Hour” London Fields “DIRECTOR’S CUT.” 2019

The only time to watch and review The Director's Cut of London fields is now: within a human species post-crisis, so novel to that species that there is no occurrence leave alone a record. Its the only time that London Fields makes more than just sense, total sense. It is now our new potential mirror and or X-ray machine for our so called"New Normal."  It can be London but it can be any city, town, enclave of human dissonance.

As a child I went to the school of life though films presented by the great Alex Cox, on his Moviedrome show, I was introduced to precursors to the coming influx of Neo-90's Noir. Narratives that coiled around its characters with the love of hungry anacondas; stories from the shrades of the social human fringe; men and women alike gleefully hapless or broken, souls just seeking to steal their inevitabilities from fate and make it their own - as if that some how made thier doom bearable.   Films where pale shadows crowded the celluloid frame even they were alone they were just paler than the crowd.

London fields so reminds me of this vein of filmmaking. In Neo-90's noir people were incapable of making anyone happy, not even themselves, or anyone else, they either new it and would violently seek irony, or just detraction, or simply some air of self-appointed cleverness about their failures: their philosophy the wisdom of one's own doom is better than the ignorance of it (as if that helps).

It was a joy to feel like a kid watching films I shouldn't be watching, with the sound turned down low, so parents in bed don't wake, listening to an intro by the great Alex Cox, and the prototypes of the coming 90's noir. This is what it felt like watching London Fields.

The first shot had dance in its guts, the first sign of a good director, making sure the audience know s/he cares. I was reassured and sat back in comfort knowing I don't have to be anxious. Few films know how to utilize stock footage, or some films over use it, some just don't respect it, we may see more of it since the big plague of 2020 hit planet earth. The now infamous "C" word hit just 4 months after I saw it in 2019 on the eve of the UK election that would decide the fate of thousands literally and of the new London that I am now living through. This is why London Fields Directors cut must be watched post-global pandemic, post London post human incubation, post human global coma, wake up and watch it!

The true value of London Fields is in its ability to be relevant externally, not just internally, it will be talked about for decades as the greatest film-restructuring/ turnaround since George Miller saved Mad Max 4 from september 11th. As long as London is here with a new normal that a film and book called London Fields possibly predictive like Nostradamus "pre" and mid plague predictions. Like Daniel's predictions of the fourth beast,  that is a president of the free world advising people to drink bleach as it cures plague like some victorian charlatan-witch-doctor.  

Talking of victorian London look out for a wonderful Fagan meets Sid-Vicious like surprise, it will remain a surprise as I will not spoil it , you will have to watch it.  Remember the advent of dvd extras where the story behind the story became King and queen, well here is your story behind the story of London Fields the coiling fluid labyrinth that this director's cut had to circumvent and master at the same time, is in itself a book, a film maybe a trilogy. It then becomes a matrix for the films ability to gracefully scream with silent pain, palpable in its starving human waifs, the population of jagged grizzled shadows of an old world, just like a pre-covid London.

My story:

- I waited 5 years to watch the director's cut, as I knew this would be the film to watch, I know from day zero, that this would be the definite splice, I am glad I waited, but i had no other option. More importantly I am glad I waited to be one of the fortunate survivors of the real London apocalypse to be able to write a review worthy of note.

Filming locations:

During the pandemic I walked around the many locations that London Fields filmed in, like Brixton where I grew up, and I went to bulk buy food, part of my post apocalyptic preppers protocol. I'm a prepper by nature so  I had bought my ffp3 mask months before. I actually gave a health and safety threat and risk consultation to a filmmaker heading to Ebola hit Lagos, I said "Make sure you have 3 meters on everyone and every surface so only the soles of your shoes need chlorine (the only chem that degrades DNA) I didn't call it social distancing I called it don't get Ebola. Here we are fortunate it was not Ebola that hit world and London Fields. I bought food in bulk buying is very different from panic buying, but I can't judge london is pretty but pretty tough to live in.  

London Fields Anatomy: + Matrix: When I say The Matrix of London fields I speak about the meta-mould, London is the ideal place to film an apocalypse, London was once the capital of the world since Britannia once owned most of the world. Location location location is everything.   +Concept: You can have a concept of any thing a concept of concept itself , a concept of the idea of a principal. Why not start with the concept of human nature, give our nature enough rope and we will hang ourselves and each everyone else in the room , but why is the nicely investigated by Bill Bob Thornton's character. This rope reaches the macro space to the micro of all the individual characters. + Basis: I have a feeling much like the basis for the characters in "Withnail and I"  the writer Ames, the author of the book, he has based these characters on the transients that peppered his life in London. + Grounds: There are sub-cultures of ravaged souls who make the characters even in the book look pale in comparison - art always mimics life not the other way round.

+Criteria:  The criteria is to capture a credible cinematic vignette of a very wild book + Responsibility: There is an integrity of context well policed diegetically and in the non diegetic space. The director is now renowned for policing this context which was under threat when islamic content (there's that other "C" word) was misaligned with pornography to create a pornography, the legal battle that ensued was only fueled by this particular mismanagement of content with no context.

+ |Sense of place "This is London" London is hit by hyperinflation, social controls, shortages, poverty, mass unemployment, Social Unrest,divisions, divergency of schisms, social branching in to pockets of gang pods.

+Pattern of capacity: is potent disconcerting X-ray machine to the lower digestive system, beyond the ice-tipped persona of innocence, the bystander, observer, storyteller. It peels back the plasters wrapped around the slick wounds, and it does it finger by finger of London's inner ducts, where its appendix once was.  

The shadows of a cosmopolitan gas chamber known as London slither and preen the boiling social swampy waves seeking their nothings in what they see as somethings', goals that are obvious traps or not so obvious. They leave patterns of psycho-splatter across the corridors of doom-drowned doors with no one able to reach their goals and no one capable of making each other happy but, even though deep down they know it, they still pursue against instinct better judgment. They have to, as if they don't we would not have any drama.

This is Kitch satire the likes of which spilled out of neo-grungy scenes of the 90's neo noir, but its interesting to see this in a London steamy punky setting, rather than Hollywoodland. Highlights of the film is an interesting crossing of the 180 degree line, which is always a tricky area.

In London Fields the human ice-berg is built almost entirely out of constellations of man and woman's failure points, we are left with the question simply what will drive us, what will keep us going after the discovery of these failure points.

I: Inspiration by the challenge to put a x-ray, a mirror in front of the face of London as a gateway to the face of the wider world W: WHy do this film? Well every couple of years in intervals where London is begging for this mirror so lets provide it. V: The vision was to engineer an exposing investigation of the ghosts of London all the way to their souls and their soul-engines. M: Mission was to find the cast and support structure to manifest this vision S-T: The strategy to tactical synergy was to turn the motion of this story in to an serendipitous dance off the page of the book on to the cinema screen. Vision: To make a respectable cool potently socially vital potency vignette that a 2 hour film cna do for the many pages of a book Strategy: To go in with fervent dedication leveraging years of mastering skill of marrying music and image, and an industry that forces the discipline of story. B: Diegetic: Why do these characters do what they do, human beings have drives from baseline to top line drives, these drives are constantly hungry, convergent and divergent simultaneously. where do we put drives, what do we do with them, where will they go The characters with doomed naive seek happy endings for their drives, in doing so misd judge everyone. The souls here are using chess strategies to leverage their needs and clear the road of others in their path creating an emotionally psychologically all-in-ring wrestling match everyone eliminating each other. - Agility: The agility is not just in the films dynamic rehabilitative turnaround but agility in characterisation of the most hyper-wild surreal characters in a book nicely done by Jim Sturgess fagan meets sid vicious sex-pistols. And Johnny Depps Cockney-Rockabilly predator. 5.- kudoi: The Synecdoche: Here is with the director has managed to perform if not one of but maybe the most important Innovation Turnaround in the history of cinema. This could be the making of a new career. It is a career I went into recently I have performed it on other films myself but never had to do it on my own. 6.- Innovation: The director holds the mantle on the most strategic siege-craft innovation since those valiant thanes of the 5th century, took the gabled hall to siege in King Fin's realm of friesland; that young King of Denmark Heanerf with with 60 retainers went to visit his sister, recently married in peace weaving in Frankish lands, and for reasons yet to be disclosed to us, is put to seige in a gabled hall. It is an example in history where siegecraft worked. Matthew Cullen would have had to must some ancient type of lock-jaw dedication to pursue a siege craft of 5 years. with an army of producers, investors and compounding resistance. 7.- leadership side: The leadership it requires to execute a turnaround on a business is Herculean. There are 5 stages to a turnaround 0. People 1. Runaway - Leverage Cash runnaw 2. Technical engineering 3. Value chain strategy: add value - take away value - modify underlying value 4. Finalizing product market fit and fitness to execute a cut 5. New Campaign 6. Re-delivery. Just like in the film the characters all see themselves as leaders but they are ultimately proxy-puppets of a greater chess game. 8.- assertiveness: The director asserts with a five year kung-fu grip to show that the little voice in the milestone of a crocodile culture of producers, investors and meta-investors that the little voice can shout the loudest when it counts. It can do this  when it is important, when our voice must protect the unicorns gallop and leave our creativity factory, we must do this so they don;t fall down the cracks. In the film we see actors forging their stamps on their portrayals, of characters seertingthier desperations on each other's visions of happiness. 9.- Resonance of Messaging:brand Matthews Brand is potent authenticity of creativity this resonates in his film-turnaround and in the realignment of creative assets in,most in the alignments 10. Positive magnet respect attract positive Providence: The Universe has shined on Matthew and his valiant journey as the results have shown that it was on his side

LONDON FIELDS GLOSSARY:

- Conceptuals: What if you apply business turnaround to your own film not just someone's film but your own. Inside the film the concept - Concept of principle: The core principle was constant unbridled constant pulse of exposure of warts and all innards of post-social apocalyptic jagged humanity character by character. - Context: The Meta Post-Apocalypse: the after-party to the aftermath of London. - Grounds: Matthew had good grounds to purser this Colonel kurtz-like mission his unicorns had been dropped down the - Reach - if it is made more clear where to find the directors cut this will be king, . - Inimitability: Anyone trying to imitate this will stick out like a pik zeblinp - replayability: There is plenty here to study and restudy and this is the best master class in Film Turnaround making Matthew Cullen the most history making CFO of London Fields successfully restructured like LEGO brick By Brick (Which is also an interesting book on how lego turned themselves around in 5 years). - Accessibility: There is plenty here to make accessible to wider audiences with lots of help from Johnny Depp providing magnetic rockabilly-cockney psycho-menace - Principle: Waste nothing and produce more with as little as possible. Vision mission : Apex-Crux: A poetic battle manual in overcoming the cataclysm-apocalyptic crushing of your family as a consequences of the poisonous chains of criminology. - Idea: Human nature builds cunning paths of self-sabotage for itself knowingly and unknowingly and its infectious. - Theme(s): self-infliction, sabotatge, self-sabotage - Terms of understanding: the terms of understanding here are though the pattern of traffic between peoples' enemy within how they clash and - Dance: The film is nicely dancing   - sculpture : There is a sense of engineering finess to the this cut that reaches between the small life of characters and the wider outside world that is out there somewhere but hasn't been seen in a long time and and clearly is not missed. 4 - Signature: The signature here the brand the unique finger print is garishly distinct defined unmistakable, flamboyant graish clever use nourish pop-kitch- - Innovation: There is an interesting way that Matthew Cullen breaks the 180 line look out for it, Jim Sturges Innovative contribution to a now infamous Sid -Vicious meets Fagan mashup is no legend. ---------------------> - Communication: The colours seem to be the some of the most dominant communicator in London - Message: Warnings of not just the soul's emotional vulnerability of people, the hazard of peoples problems, but the hazard of a now victorian like London - Language - Conveyance - Shape Nuance: Nuance swells in the misery that Billy Bob Thornton carries around, it hangs like the unsucked cigarette smoke constantly trailing his character's - Ethos: The Directors ethos is the first rule of any endeavor is never give up! Once the mission was demanded to turn the film around this rule become law so taking names off a film are not part of this ethos.  The Films' ethos everything is available. - idiosyncrasy: The positions of satirical use of nourish pop--kitch is so uni - ethics: The direct fought to remedy inflammatory scenes IN the original cut there were scenes where religion is explicitly juxat - Responsibility: There is obvious responsibility to do just ice to the book, but also to the characters and how the actors navigate this, then there is London, one of the most if not the most unique city in the world. - Code: Its code of conduct is to never let you rest to corrugate the constant exposure of the shades of core characters and new characters both minor and major. - Policy: IS to be calmly unrelenting in the face of adversity on and off set.

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

CS AU Week 2017: Day 4 - Favorite Tropes AU

Emma Swan is a crusty twice divorced bailsbond person who is a lone wolf by nature, excluding the company of her seven-year old son, of course. Her occasional companion of choice is a Seattle detective who is also a divorcee and an ex-military guy who got his hand blown off on some super secret Black Op mission in Afghanistan. Killian Jones is nearly as crusty as Emma and a closet sci-fi nerd who never fails to help Emma with a difficult skip or babysit her son last minute. There’s always been an unspoken attraction between them that’s held back by their memory of their failed marriages.

Tropes Included: partners-in-crime, bedsharing, UST, friends to lovers, living in the same building, wearing each other’s clothes and drunk kissing in the goddamn rain

As a general rule Emma Swan was a lone wolf, but whether she felt the need for assistance or human companionship, she often turned to Killian Jones. As a plain clothes detective in the Seattle Police Department with a military background, Killian made a natural ally considering Emma’s work as a bounty hunter; often contributing to the capture and pick up of the human trash Emma dealt with on a daily basis. It didn’t hurt that he also lived three doors down from her apartment, was a decent drinking buddy and was generally pleasant to look at. (Emma would neither confirm or deny that she made a sport of looking at his ass when he wasn’t looking. If the man didn’t want to be ogled, he shouldn’t wear such tight jeans.)

So, when Emma was handed a file of a skip with a profile that would have reasonably been used to describe the Incredible Hulk and a habit hiding out with his sister in Bandon, she didn’t think twice before asking Killian to participate in a weekend road trip/stakeout.

“If you wanted to go on a date, Swan, there are better ways to go about it,” he teased when she asked, taking a bite out of the double meat Italian sub she had bought him for lunch as a thinly veiled form of bribery.

“Please, that is never going to happen,” Emma scoffed, pushing his paperwork over onto his keyboard so she could sit on top of his desk.

“Famous last words,” he smirked, blue eyes dancing with mischief.

“Nope. Never. I couldn’t date you. You’re a pretty boy and you know it. I couldn’t stand living with that ego. I can barely handle it over three beers,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Killian shot back. “You’ve lasted five beers and a Lord of the Rings marathon. No point in denying it, Swan. There’s still video evidence on my phone.”

Emma couldn’t help it, she let out a laugh. She always had fun with Killian, particularly because they had a good banter going. Killian seemed to have the same dry wit and dark humor as her. Their rapport had a bit of flirtatious element to it, but it was relatively harmless. It never went beyond a few lines and mock confessions of love, but Emma would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it. You would have to be dead not to.

“Okay, okay. I can last five beers and four hours as long as there’s Orlando Bloom making weird faces in the background to distract me,” Emma scoffed, lifting her hands up in exasperation. “But for real, I’ve sworn off men. And women. I’ve decided that I’m going to be a crazy dog lady.”

“When did you decide this, love?” Killian asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“When I got divorced for the second time,” she replied casually.

Killian nodded as if he understood, which wasn’t surprising because she knew he did. Like herself, Killian was a divorcee; his former wife Milah had left him while he was still doing military service, not long before his hand had been blown off on some mission in Afghanistan. It was one of the things that bonded them aside from their love for fantasy and science fiction movies.

“Divorce has a tendency to do that. I would sing about losing that loving feeling Righteous Brothers style, but I’ve seen the amount of damage you can do when with just a hot cup of coffee,” Killian chuckled.

“Damn right, buster,” Emma smirked, bringing the aforementioned cup of coffee to her lips.

He had said it jokingly, but there was an incident in their past where Emma had used her coffee as a weapon when she had been unexpectedly surprised by a skip at a Starbucks. It had been surprisingly effective, however neither the police department nor the skip’s publicly appointed lawyer were impressed with the second-degree burns she had left behind. Though the incident had led to Killian complimenting her Macgyver-like tendencies of trying mundane daily life things into weapons.

Killian shook his head, leaning back in his seat and appraising her. “And I suppose there are worse things in the world to be than a crazy dog lady. You could be a crazy cat lady.”

“Yeah, no thank you,” Emma replied, making a small gagging noise. “I would die if I lived in a house that smelled of cat piss.”

“Quite right, Swan,” Killian laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between them as Killian dug into his sub and Emma sipped on her coffee. One of the things she loved about Killian was that he never felt the need to fill the quiet with unnecessary chatter.

“You’re a lucky woman, Swan,” Killian said as he finished the rest of the Italian sub. “I do have the weekend off, so I do have time to help you with your hunt for…the Incredible Hulk?”

“Just wait until you see the file then you won’t be questioning the nickname,” Emma replied, somewhat defensively. “The asshole looks like Lou Ferrigno.”

“Oh, you’re talking old school Hulk,” Killian nodded in realization. “I was thinking about the new one.”

Emma gave him a look like he had grown three heads.

“I wouldn’t be bothering you if he looked like Mark Ruffalo,” she scoffed. “Besides, if he looked like that, he wouldn’t have been able to put a cop through a window let alone attempt to lift an entirely filled safe out of a jewelry store.”

“For real? And Regina paid for his bail!?” Killian asked in disbelief.

Emma shrugged.

“I don’t make the decisions. I just pick up the trash regardless of how big. He might be big, but he’s a fucking idiot. Besides, this guy is like worth like $2,000 and Mama needs to pay rent and pay for some car repairs.”

“Maybe you should just buy a new car,” Killian replied with an arch of his eyebrow.

Emma scowled at him. He was constantly dissing her yellow bug. She loved that thing. It refused to die.

“I’m not responding to that slanderous suggestion,” Emma said, crossing arms in front of her chest.

“You kinda just did, love,” Killian snorted.

“That was an acknowledgement, not a response,” she argued.

“Whatever you say, counselor. I didn’t realize I was dealing with a lawyer, instead of a bailsbonds agent,” he chuckled.

Emma gave him a half-hearted swat as she hopped off his desk. Killian feigned injury, letting out an exaggerated “ouch” as she smacked him but his huge grin made it more than clear that he wasn’t really hurt.

“Quit being a baby,” she scolded. “I’ll see you Friday night. Seven sound good?”

“Eight might be best, love. I get off at seven and I’ll need a mo to shower, shit and shave,” Killian responded, chuckling.

Emma pulled a face.

“That’s more than I needed to know,” she responded, fishing out the keys to the bug.

“I’ve picked up your kid’s vomit, Swan, I can say whatever I want.”

The next time Emma saw Killian that week, it was to pick him up from his apartment. He came out the door before she even had the chance to knock. It’s fairly obvious that Killian’s just showered; his hair was still wet, dark strands plastered against his forehead while his black jeans and shirt clung to him in a fashion that told Emma he barely had time to towel off. (She wasn’t complaining.) He carried only an army duffle over his shoulder.

They made idle chatter as they walked towards Emma’s car.

“Where’s Henry this weekend?” he asked casually.

“With my brother and resenting every second of it,” Emma replied with a sigh.

“I thought David and Henry got on,” Killian frowned.

“They do, but everything is all about the baby lately so as you can imagine, my seven-year old isn’t so interested. Plus, he was really intent on joining me this weekend on this stake out. He doesn’t seem to get that my job isn’t as glamorous as the TV makes it out to be,” Emma sighed.

“Maybe you should let him ride along at least once, so he realizes that,” Killian advised.

Emma glared at him.

“I’m not taking my son with me when I’m taking down possible rapists, murderers and scumbags, Killian. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m not suggesting you do,” he responded with a roll of his eyes. “I meant taking him on the more boring ones, you know, like your tax evaders and absentee dads that don’t pay child support.”

Emma continued to glare him, not bothering to respond. She climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The last example hit a little too close to home, bringing to mind her first husband Neal, who originally identified himself as an antique collector when they first met. The descriptor wasn’t necessarily a lie, but Neal’s choice of collection was a little less than legal and he had tried to take her down with him in hopes of a lesser prison sentence towards the end of their marriage. The three months after he got out of prison, he went AWOL and currently owed Emma $12,850 in child support; not that she expected to ever see a cent of it.

Their four-hour drive to Bandon was less tense as they move to lighter conversations like their disappointment in Peter Jackson’s adaptation of The Hobbit and whether or not they considered Deep Space Nine to be a rip off of Babylon Five or not. Despite their easy rapport, they’re bone tired by the time they reach their destination and roll into the nearest motel they could find with a vacancy sign. Emma was dead on her feet when she went to the reception desk. Killian was even worn out, leaning against Emma’s side as she approached the desk.

“Two doubles,” she asked, stifling a yawn.

The moment the old woman behind the desk gave her a sympathetic look, Emma knew something was wrong.

“I’m sorry, young lady, but all I have left is a room and that’s with a single queen. It’s wedding season, you see, and I’m nearly all booked up,” she informed her.

“Wedding season,” Emma repeated, blinking.

“Wedding season,” she affirmed. “All those young kids don’t want to get married in a church anymore. They all want seashore weddings. So, like I said, I’ve got a room with just a queen and I’m willing to give you a discount. Ten percent for the inconvenience.”

Emma glanced in Killian’s direction. His eyelids were drooping and he didn’t seem to be understanding what the old woman was saying, not that Emma blamed him. He just got off a long shift, which was followed by a long drive no matter how entertaining the company was.

“What are you thinking, Kil?” she asked gently.

“That I just want to sleep, Swan and it’s one in the morning and I don’t care if I have to bunk on the floor. Slept in worse conditions, remember?” he muttered against her shoulder.

Emma sighed. She wasn’t necessarily comfortable with the idea of Killian sleeping on the floor, especially since he was doing her a favor. However, she was exhausted and didn’t feel like driving any more if she didn’t have to.

“We’ll take it,” Emma replied.

The room they get was tired and in desperate need of a remodel. The bed didn’t look too terrible but the rug was positively disgusting, patched with suspicious dark stains. There was no way that Emma could let him sleep on the floor in good conscience. She didn’t care if he was used to sleeping in dirt holes from his time in the Middle East, he was now back in the States and deserved to sleep in a bed.

“No,” she said aloud in a firm tone.

Killian looked at her in bleary eyed confusion.

“No?” he echoed questioningly.

“There is no way I’m letting you sleep on that floor, Killian Brennan Jones,” Emma stated, placing her hands on her hips.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Emma,” Killian replied, irritation in his tone.

“Better me than you,” she replied.

“Emma, you paid for the room and I know you hate the argument, but I’m a gentleman, love, and there’s no way I’m letting a lady sleep on the floor,” he argued.

“I’m hardly a lady and Killian, it’s your weekend off and you’re spending it with me,” Emma shot back, frustration coloring her tone.

“I was going to spend it with you anyway,” he scoffed. “But the point still stands that I refuse to let you sleep on the floor.”

“Then we’ll just have to share then,” she snapped without thinking.

Killian looked her in bewilderment, jaw dropping slightly.

“Share?” he repeated. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“It’s a queen size bed so it’s not like we’d be on top of each other,” Emma reasoned. “I mean, we’re both adults here. What? You think just because I’m sharing a bed with you that it will automatically lead to sex? News flash, Jones, you might be attractive, but you’re not so attractive that I’m just going to start molesting you the second we hit the sheets. Get over yourself.”

Killian’s jaw clenched and Emma watched as a muscle jumped. He was as pissed off as a man could be when he was bone tired. She knew in any other situation that this would have blown into a fight of epic proportions, but neither of them had the energy to put the effort in.

“Fine,” he replied tightly, grabbing his pack and heading towards the bathroom. Emma nearly jumped when the door slammed angrily behind him.

Emma took advantage of his absence, changing into a pair of candy cane stripped pajama bottoms and an Army shirt that had once been Killian’s, but had long since been pilfered by Emma and become a permanent resident in her closet. She hopped on the bed, choosing the side closest to the nightstand rather than the door. Killian emerged from the bathroom not to long after, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and a shirt advertising Mills’ Bailbonds. Emma quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Nice t-shirt there, Jones,” she replied, biting her lip to hide her smirk.

Killian blinked before glancing down at his shirt as if just realizing which one he was wearing. He gave a shrug then realized that Emma was wearing something of his own collection.

“Same to you, Swan,” he nodded, all the fire and frustration from before erased.

He hopped onto his side of the bed without further comment, immediately seeking refuge under the covers and turning with his back facing her. Emma understood the sentiment and unfolded her own side, ready to go to sleep herself.

“Mind turning down the light, Swan?” Killian asked gently.

“Sure,” Emma replied, leaning up to turn off all the lights before snuggling into the sheets. There’s a reasonable amount of room between them without her feeling she’s hanging to the edge of the bed.

“Night, Swan,” Killian muttered so quietly that Emma almost didn’t hear him.

“Night Kil,” she murmured back, nuzzling her pillow.

Emma was tired enough that she didn’t remember falling asleep. She would, however, never forget waking up. Somehow over the course of the night, they both had gravitated towards the middle of the bed. Emma awoke the next morning, warm despite the fact both she and Killian had kicked the sheets to the bottom of the bed. Killian had molded himself against her back, seeking the warmth of her body underneath her shirt. She was somewhat mortified to note that his hands on curled itself around her breast and both of their legs were tangled together. Killian was still asleep, his even breaths puffing against the base of her neck, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

She immediately removed herself from the situation as carefully as she could, ignoring the hammering of her heart. Killian let out a small whine of protest, but didn’t wake. Feeling slightly bad, she gathered the neglected sheets and covered him, in hopes of keeping him asleep just awhile longer. He deserved it.

Emma gave the ancient alarm clock a quick glance. It was roughly eight in the morning and she wanted to stake out the sister’s house by nine-thirty. She could take a shower and get dressed at her leisure. If Killian was sleeping when she was done, she would give him a jostle and some space while she got some coffee. Satisfied with her plan, Emma went to work and tried to ignore the events of the morning.

As she predicted, Killian was still asleep when she was done getting dressed. He wasn’t particularly pleased to be woken up, but she had mollified him with the promise of coffee. There was a Starbucks not too far from where their motel, located on Virginia Ave. She ordered herself a large iced caramel macchiato and a large dark roast coffee with a shot of espresso for Killian. After a near three years of friendship, she knew his coffee order by heart, not that it was a particularly hard one to remember.

When she arrived back at the hotel, Killian was dressed albeit still on the sleepy side. He had a tendency to be barely coherent and irritable without his coffee, so before he even said a word she shoved his dark roast in his hands without comment. He raised the to-go cup in silent thanks before taking a sip.

The majority of their day was rather uneventful. They sat in Emma’s yellow bug two blocks from her skip’s sister’s house the entire morning and mid-afternoon without so much of a hint of movement. When it came around to four-thirty, they got a bit testy with each other.

“We haven’t seen a lick of anyone. You sure, they’re home, Swan?” Killian asked, drumming his fingers against the dashboard.

“Her car is parked in the driveway,” she replied flatly.

“Doesn’t mean she’s home or he’s here,” he responded, raising his eyebrows.

“I know, but I have a feeling in my gut.”

If it were possible, Killian’s eyebrows would have risen past his hairline.

“We’ve been sitting here for the past six hours based on a feeling in your gut?” he asked incredulously.

Emma gave him an annoyed look.

“You’ve always trusted my gut before,” she snapped, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Yeah, but before now, your gut hadn’t gotten me leg cramps from being awkwardly folded up in your small ass car.”

“Don’t insult my bug,” Emma snapped, pointing a finger in his face.

“Your bug is an old rust bucket in dire need of being replaced, love,” Killian replied matter-of-factly.

Emma was about to yell at him when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. As if he had sensed their argument, Emma’s skip of the week emerged from the barely there raised ranch, tossing a pair of keys leisurely into the air.

“Son of a bitch,” Killian muttered, pulling out his gun.

“I told you he was here,” Emma replied smugly as she pulled out her taser.

Killian gave no verbal reply, but rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the car. Emma followed in suit, quietly snickering to herself. As could be imagined, Emma’s skip was not happy to see them and immediately tried to bolt, only pausing when Killian fired a warning shot. When the asshole thought it was a cute idea to try and charge them, Emma hit him with her taser. It took two jolts to take him down, but all in all it wasn’t the worst take down in Emma’s experience. The only thing that royally sucked about it was that it took nearly two hours to fill out all the necessary paper work in order for Emma’s bounty to be processed properly. By the time, they left the station, it was nearly eight-thirty at night and neither was in the mood for a long drive.

“Want to find a new hotel so you can have your own bed?” Emma asked lightly.

Killian made a noncommittal grunt.

“That wasn’t answer,” Emma said, raising her eyebrow.

“I don’t see the point. We’re not paying that much at the place we’re at now and it’s not like last night was a complete disaster. Like you said, Swan, it’s not like you molested me once we hit the sheets.”

Emma bit back the snarky reply about him molesting her in his sleep that was laying on the tip of her tongue. She refrained however because she was pretty sure Killian wasn’t aware of what had happened and she didn’t feel like hashing out that can of worms.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian replied, clapping her on the back. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

They ended up at a small bar across the street from the motel they were staying at. As with how things usually were with Killian and Emma, they stayed for more than a drink. They drained three beers each and shared a plate of onion rings. Killian insisted on paying the bill since Emma was paying for the motel room, but she refused to let him pay the tip and threw ten dollars on the table while ignoring the disapproval in his gaze. Emma couldn’t bring herself to care too much however, she was feeling slightly buzzed and giggly.

They were halfway to the motel when the heavens decided to open up and a heavy rain fell. Emma let out a loud shriek of surprise and immediately jumped to Killian’s side for warmth. He grumbled in irritation, taking off his leather jacket and hauling over their bodies in a haphazard way of shielding them from the sudden shower.

“Get a little closer, love, or you’re going to get drenched,” Killian grumbled, pulling her towards him.

Emma let out a shuddered breath as his fingers unknowingly brushed against her breast, bringing back thoughts of this morning. He immediately caught the sound however as his eyes zeroed in on her lips and held their gaze there longer than was entirely appropriate for platonic friends; not that Emma had much of a leg to stand on, she had been unabashedly checking him out for the past three years.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his hold growing tighter.

When he spoke, she couldn’t help but focus on his mouth. It was only fair that she got to look as well. Unconsciously, she licked the corner of lips and despite her near hyper focus on the lower half of his face, she caught his eyes zeroing in on the action.

What happened next was an impulsive decision on Emma’s part that was no doubt fueled by a combination of liquid courage and her long-held desire to resolve the sexual tension that had been lingering between them ever since she found him teaching her son how to play air hockey. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and immediately tugged him down for a hard and unyielding kiss. Their teeth clashed together, the angle was more than a little awkward and Emma was pretty sure her lip was split from the roughness of her actions, but that didn’t seem to matter. Killian immediately dropped his jacket, letting it plop wetly onto the cement as his arms curled around her back in a vice grip to pull her closer.

She broke a way for a moment to take a quick breath before diving back in for another kiss. Killian let out a pleased noise from the back of his throat that Emma was pretty sure she wanted to hear on repeat for the rest of her life. She awarded him with affectionate nip of his lower lip before deepening the kiss. If she had been soberer, she would have been a bit mortified with how liberal she was being with her hands.

Emma made a noise that sounded embarrassingly like a whine when he pulled away. However, embarrassment soon turned to pride when she realized how heavy he was breathing.

“Emma…” he whispered. “Please tell me you’re not drunk.”

“I had only three beers,” she scoffed. “You know as well as I do that it takes more than three beers to knock me on my ass.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, though the sound was a bit strangled. “I…I just don’t want this to be a mistake.”

“This isn’t a mistake,” she whispered. “This…this is long overdue.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

Killian laughed as well before hauling her over his shoulder and marching determinedly back to their hotel room, leaving his leather jacket behind in the rain without much thought as he made his single-minded trek. Emma let out a peel of laughter, pounding her fists against his back half-heartedly.

“What are you doing!? Put me down!” Her demands lost held no heat as she couldn’t stop giggling.

“Doing something I should have done a long time ago,” Killian replied. “And I’m not wasting any more time than I already have.”

When they finally got to their room, he immediately pressed her against the door and lifted her drenched shirt over her head, flipping it across the room without much thought. After such a caveman-like display, Emma had expected him to be rough but she was surprised by the softness of the kiss he placed on her lips.

“This is okay, right?” he murmured quietly.

���It’s more than okay,” she said, her hands absently soothing over his back as she rose on her toes to silence him with a kiss.

The next morning, she awoke in the same fashion she had the previous one with Killian pressed up against her back, his breath curling on the base of her neck and his hand on her breast. However, incident was a bit as it also involved a lot less clothing than the day before and there was a pleasant ache between her thighs and more than a few love bites on Killian’s neck. Instead of removing herself from the situation, she merely cuddled closer and went back to sleep.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au week 2k17 #cs fanfic #cs au fic #trope challenge #my aesthetic #my fic #my shit #so many tropes #so many #not my usually ken but I hope you like it

[melpomine]

Calpurnia

Feb. 04 2018 2:30 PM  90 minutes no intermission Buddies in Bad Times Theatre A Nightwood Theatre and Sulong Theatre co-production Written and Directed by Audrey Dwyer

According to their program, this play is “A classic novel turned on its head. A dinner party gone wrong.” This is about as vague as preliminaries get, and I find out why as the play goes on--but more on that in a bit.

As we walk into the traverse space, patrons are aurally immersed into the soundscape of a gentle piano. The music captures the essence of the novel off of which the play is based--it is sweet and serious and tells a story. I settle into my front-row seat I feel excited and at-ease--a familiar sensation to anyone who has read and re-read the novel. 

The stage is built to look like a realistic, affluent living room, and it does this exceptionally well. It has a fully-equipped kitchen off to one side (SR from where I was sitting, SL from the opposite side) with a working refrigerator, countertops, cupboards, etc. Centre-stage there is a large dining table, and opposite to the kitchen is the front door from where characters enter and exit. Everything is just right. And then the play begins.

Julie, our lead (Meghan Swaby) is an aspiring writer attempting a screenplay spinoff about Calpurnia--the iconic black caregiver from Harper Lee’s novel, “To Kill A Mockingbird.” She is on a strict deadline and has gotten notes from her agent that the character is as too upper-class. From the get-go, Julie plays anger and frustration so well that one buys into it for the entire play, trusting that the reason for her anger will become apparent eventually. It doesn’t. This disposition is contrasted by Precy (Carolyn Fe) who is a jovial and maybe even submissive nanny. Of all the characters, Precy seems to be the most fully developed, and she is probably my favourite thing about the play. It makes a WOC maid (Precy) a lead. In this production, Precy is a middle-aged Filipino live-in nanny who defies stereotype. However, this segues into my least favourite thing about the play as well. Despite being a response to Harper Lee’s Calpurnia, wherein the playwright submits that she is undermined and overlooked, this play actively chooses to turn the upper-class black woman into a maid for the majority of the play. Contextually, she does this in efforts to research what it’s like to engage in maid-like duties. This is maddening to me.  The two black men (her father and her brother) get to keep their wits; the white woman gets to appear like the rational girl trying to calm a black woman. My qualm is not that Julie isn’t likeable; that’s a juvenile non-criticism which exists mainly for the commercial masses to pick at. It’s that her character misrepresents what so much of the black community faces. Julie represents the underdog, whereas her younger brother Mark, in dialogue, is an apologist with whom were a meant to vehemently disagree. Perhaps this is the art’s true mastery: it presents two very incorrect characters .

Dramaturgically:

At around the halfway point, there is a musical interlude to indicate the passage of time. It was quite long, and the lighting confusingly indicated that a lot more time passed than really did. 

I didn’t understand to place a fully-equipped kitchen so far SL/SR that at any given time, the majority of the audience would not be able to see what’s going on there. Much of the action unfolds there for strenuous periods of time, and we could only crane our necks for so long before giving up altogether. This choice was a result of making the space look as close to a real kitchen as possible. Well, it looks real, but it doesn’t work, and thus the important distinction between realism and naturalism emerges. 

To be frank, it seems like this play was riding off the coattails of a title which has now become a buzzword. (I mean, ditto: Go Set A Watchman.) The narrative would’ve stayed exactly the same were Julie working on a screenplay about a black maid--period. But would the show have sold as many tickets had it gone with the “unbranded” iteration of the same story? Isn’t the choice to link the tale to one of the most famous black nannies in our zeitgeist counter-productive to the dramaturgy? I know I would’ve been far more interested in the story about any black woman, but it seems the playwright didn’t believe this, and risked her story for it. Any references to the novel were inaccurate and contrived.

Atticus is said to have slut-shamed Mayella during the court scene, which, textually or sub-textually, just never, ever happens. I went back to those chapters and combed over them so I could contextualize whatever quote was being taken way out of context, but it doesn’t even exist. Atticus never mentions Mayella’s sex life, and he shouldn’t. The fact of the case is that her father rapes her and then they both choose to blame it on Tom Robinson. Atticus only ever asks Mayella whether her father beat her, or Tom; whether her father raped her, or Tom. In his closing statement he certainly goes on to shame the jury for hating Mayella’s for her desire to kiss a black man, and I just don’t see how that can be twisted into the man slut-shaming her.

The rest of the character flaws are speculative. Julie believes Atticus wouldn’t have paid Calpurnia “because some of them didn’t”--although the narrative explicitly states the opposite. She also thinks Atticus would’ve hit her “because some of them did”--the them being white slave-owners, of course. Julie believes it’s horrid that Scout, a six-year-old white girl teaches Calpurnia to “speak well” when the exact opposite is true. Calpurnia’s use of language in the novel is so eloquent that Scout is constantly asking her for the meanings of Atticus’ legal jargon, and is further confused when Calpurnia switches dialects during church. 

The one accurate and worthy criticism of the character in the story is that in advising his daughter, Scout, to not use the n-word, he uses the word himself. He could’ve quite easily avoided this, just as I have now. There is no justification for this, only a post script to say that he never uses that word in the presence of a black person, and when he does say it behind their backs it is not to degrade but to divert. 

To all this, the unsuspecting (mainly white) audience who can only faintly recall the narrative nods in enthusiastic ally-ship, ready to discard their beloved classic (much like the character of Christine) if it’s outdated now as the play claims it is. This is not sustainable viewership. A simple fact-check renders much of the novel’s criticism inaccurate. It would’ve been far more effective to go off of the iteration of Atticus published in Go Set A Watchman. The two versions could not be further apart. Both were a result of Lee’s fascination with her father, Amasa Coleman Lee. If we’re reading biographically (which I believe is an uninteresting way to read--well--anything) then the “real Atticus” was a white supremacist and a rampant segregationist. The venn-diagram of Lee’s Atticus’ and Dwyer’s Atticus are two repellant circles.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Although I have been enamoured with the character of Atticus for about seven years, now, I have since chronicled several flaws with our cultural admiration of his. At the end of the day he is still an old, white man, remembered and cherished over his black counterparts and betters.

I probably would’ve written a more satisfied review as someone who didn’t feel swindled by the classic bait ‘n’ switch. 

#theatre #Audrey Dwyer #Calpurnia #To Kill A Mockingbird #BuddiesInBadTimeTheatre

[pharmaphorumuk]

Life with multiple myeloma

Multiple myeloma patient Bob Munro (pictured below) explains what it’s like to live with the rare blood cancer and how his diagnosis led him on the journey of a lifetime – cycling from London to the Arc de Triomphe.

To describe yourself as lucky when you’ve been diagnosed as having a rare incurable bone marrow cancer could easily qualify you for a visit from the men in white coats, but then what’s another couple of white coats when you’ve been surrounded by them for more than seven years?

It certainly wasn’t my first reaction when the consultant treating me for pneumonia told me I had a tumour. “You mean cancer?” I interrupted, sensing that this wasn’t a word he wanted to use. “Yes, it’s in your bone marrow and it’s called myeloma”, which it turns out 97% of people, including me, have never heard of. I’ve had better news.​

As I dabbed away tears, I managed to take on board ‘rare, incurable, treatable, new drugs, great strides’ but the fact that it was in my bones strongly suggested to me that I was in big trouble. Surely once a cancer has migrated to your bones, you were finished? And his coup de grace “oh, and I strongly advise you not to Google it”, meaning you didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to know it wasn’t good.

It was no wonder he gave me that earnest but useless piece of advice; 25% of newly diagnosed patients die within the first year and only 46% live for five years. But, and here’s where I start to get lucky, my cup is resolutely half full. Some would say I’m foolishly optimistic.

Google also told me the average age at diagnosis is 69, and less than 35% of patients are under 65. I was 52 and still playing five-a-side football; surely youth and fitness must improve my chances of being in the 46%? It does, so does not having an aggressive strain.

What is multiple myeloma?

Myeloma crowds out the production of red and white blood cells in the bone marrow, leaving sufferers anaemic and with seriously compromised immune systems– hence my raging pneumonia and immediate blood transfusions. It also attacks bones, often resulting in catastrophic collapsed vertebra, and destroys the kidneys. My excessive tiredness –”Stop yawning Dad” – and stubborn infections, suggested I’d had myeloma for a couple of years, but I had neither serious vertebra or kidney damage. This could have been so different if I hadn’t recklessly gone skiing with what felt like flu and developed pneumonia, leading to a diagnosis which could otherwise have been delayed years. Oh yes, that was lucky.

“I’m living (cycling) proof of the strides being made in the development of myeloma drugs”

Didn’t he say there had been new drugs developed recently and it was treatable? Yes, and 20 years ago there was virtually nothing available. Since my diagnosis there have been an incredible number of new Myeloma treatments, the most for any cancer, so you could say I was lucky… you get the picture. Which is one of the reasons I’m such a, sometimes unfashionably, huge fan of Big Pharma, I literally wouldn’t be alive without it.

My treatment journey

Now, in case you’re thinking this is a rather flippant recollection, coloured by successful treatment to a state of complete remission, think again. The first day’s treatment, a cocktail of 40+ chemotherapy tablets including the notorious, and previously banned thalidomide, left me hospitalised again for three weeks. After four months of treatment my response was ‘sub-optimal’ i.e: ‘it didn’t work’. It also left me blind in one eye as the blood thinners I self-injected every day sent blood gushing through my retina. “That was unlucky” said my Ophthalmist. I didn’t see it coming either.

The second treatment also failed to dent the myeloma and left me with permanent numbness in my feet. My consultant then suggested we “smash your myeloma” with two doses of a rather nasty cocktail of six chemotherapy drugs at once. Apart from losing my hair, I felt relatively unscathed, unfortunately so did the myeloma, in fact my biomarkers went up.

The aim had been to lower these biomarkers sufficiently to undergo a stem cell transplant – a huge chemo blast to the bone marrow followed by a transplant of the stem cells drawn from my blood. But with the biomarkers still high, this plan was shelved. So, after 12 months and 4 failed and pretty gruelling treatments, my myeloma was classed as refractory ‘resistant to treatment’ and relapsed – things were looking pretty grim. Was I worried? Would worrying help?

My consultant then prescribed the very latest maintenance therapy, and the results were almost immediate. My biomarkers began falling to manageable levels and the lower toxicity of the drug meant I started to feel more normal again. I resolved to do everything I could to improve my chances of surviving and started walking and improving my diet. During 2013, I recovered some fitness and shed the two stone in weight I had accumulated during treatment. It’s hard to resist chocolate when you might have already had your last beach holiday, but it’s easier when it might help prolong your life.

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[bronsonthurman]

Review: Netflix’s Death Note

Recently Netflix released its version of Death Note, one of several anime adaptations in the works by major American studio. While it credits the Weekly Shonen Jump manga series as its source, it likely benefits far more from awareness of the 2006 anime adaptation. American viewers of that series surely featured prominently in the calculus of producing this movie, providing a ready made market. Unfortunately this movie is a vapid attempt to exploit the premise as American teen horror and just looks that much worse for its comparison to the unique psychological thriller that was the anime.

Aside from the requisite spoiler alert, I would advise readers who haven’t seen either of these productions to immediately watch the anime. The Netflix adaptation will spoil its surprises without delivering any rewards. The anime is only 37 episodes in self-contained entirely and though it occasionally detours into the ridiculous and convoluted, as anime is wont to do, its characters and plot are fresh, engaging, and thought provoking..

If it were not for the superior source material the movie might have seemed like just more mediocre teen targeted commercialism instead of an outright dumpster fire. Protagonist Light Turner (Nat Wolff) is a troubled, brilliant teen making extra cash by selling homework and creepily staring--oops, I mean longing for--beautiful cheerleader Mia Sutton (Margaret Qualley). We are supposed to believe he is good at heart because he tries to defend her against a generic male bully, but the audience can’t help but notice he only gets involved after she has the courage to intervene; Light butts in with an outburst of machismo he tries to back up by being a ineffectual smart ass. All in all the introduction brings to mind school shooting tragedies in a manner that only adds ick, not substance. It preps the viewer to feel wary of what they’ve gotten into, and rightfully so.

Into the hands of this unfortunate protagonist falls the titular premise, the Death Note, really a Death Notebook wherein owners can write names, dates, and manners of death for people they wish to kill. Hot on its heels Light is visited by the prickly, hunched demon Ryuk, who is served well by darkly lit computer animation and proves that Willem Dafoe is enjoyable even when he’s taking it easy, if not exactly just phoning it in. Ryuk serves as an unpersuasive argument that the devil made Light do it. Luckily for the viewer there is only one bully ready to be a target of Light’s wrath, who is decapitated gruesomely. The two-dimensional cruelty presented as justification does nothing to avoid the disturbing appearance of a shitty person in desperate need of psychological help getting bloodily murdered instead.

In better hands Death Note could have been a shocking and significant co-option of the property to explore a decent-at-heart kid pushed to the edge of good and evil by youthful callousness and falling into an abyss of high school violence. Director Adam Windgard, perhaps recognizing his own limitations, giving us instead exactly what we should expect from a director of mediocre horror like the Blair Witch reboot, V/H/S, and You’re Next: more flimsy, forgettable horror. Windgard tries to make Death Note into Final Destination with a few improbable and modestly gory set pieces, strung together with music videos with terrible soundtracks, in between trying to establish conflict between mysterious FBI consultant L and a cringe inducing loser-gets-the-girl teen romance. Sad to say this sub-plot’s only redeeming quality is being perfunctory and it only gets worse when Mia’s motives take a sinister turn.

There is a meaningful discussion overdue on female capacity for vengeful judgmentalness, violence by proxy, and vileness typically relegated to men. These subjects are hinted at, but this film is no place for something so nuanced, so the betrayals and come uppance we are subjected to feel like the cinematic equivalent of a basic bro screaming “that’s what you get bitch!” Whether coming from the screenplay by Charley and Vlas Parlapanides or from director Wingard one of them should have realized how it would reflect on the men behind the film. It just feels gross.

Efforts to weave plots around the endless rules included in the Death Note may appeal to some devoted hobbyist geeks, but even a casual hobbyist geek like me was underwhelmed. The only respite comes from the fact that Dafoe has a great voice and Lakeith Stanfield gives a competent performance as L that seems aware of what made the anime equivalent of his character interesting. Mentioning the acting in this movie feels spiteful--the actors are hardly to blame, going through motions as they were surely expected and giving basically the appropriate emotional cues to support the dialog, such as it is. That Qualley’s flat performance as Mia seemed fitting is not so much a complement to her, but rather another strike for the subtle stink of chauvinism exuded by her role and plots.

Eventually there are confrontations, a chase action sequence that doesn’t contribute anything or know when to quit, something like a climax, and an attempt at a twist ending. Attempts to redeem Light Turner ring hollow and false. None of it matters or convinces, none of it draws the viewer in. Even the guilty pleasure of really tearing apart something awful wouldn’t have kept the movie on for its full running time if I weren’t penning an article--I walked away only minutes in before deciding I couldn’t suitably insult it if I hadn’t sat through it all.

The degree of animosity here is not entirely due to the film in isolation. Alone it wouldn’t merit a full viewing and I would have left feeling mildly resentful that I had wasted 15 minutes on a teen horror movie that really was intended for teens. It speaks to its target audience in a cynical, exploitative way, not in a Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer-will-appeal-to-your-inner-adolescent way. Sometimes that’s still passable, pressing the intended viewer’s buttons just how they want them to be pressed by a particular genre. But this movie takes deeply interesting source material and uses it to compel me and countless others to sit through it for 101 minutes. That it was free with my subscription makes it worse, not better, because if I had to pay for a theater ticket to see it, I wouldn’t have, just as I didn’t see Ghost in the Shell, an adaptation of a franchise I am much more personally attached to. This pops up on Netflix as if to say “you liked Death Note, right? We have more Death Note for you,” only to insult me by abusing its source so badly.

This is the cause of angry reddits, comment section tirades, bad user reviews, and poor returns. Hollywood doesn’t understand the genre. Whitewashing it a big part of it; stories are products of cultures, infused with those experiences and values. Its not just the race of the actor that matters, though racism under the guise as marketability is truly an ugly reality that deprives many fine actors of work and us of their performances. In the case of anime adaptations the whole story is being whitewashed to force it to fit Hollywood’s limited realm of cinematic experience. This robs of us of fine stories that are highly original, at least from our cultural norm.

This adaptation robs us of Light Yagami, a model Japanese youth with a bright future ahead of him, diligent, conscientious of his responsibilities in a distinctly Asian way. When this fine young man becomes convinced that he should use the Death Note to make the world better by eliminating criminals, we believe him, at least at first. He matches wits against his opposite, the misanthropic but just L, sacrificing his rationales of justness bit by bit along the way. The audience takes a gripping psychological trip to the realization that our protagonist is the villain. His crazy girlfriend isn’t just a bitch, she’s an outright obsessive who is perversely the subject of obsession herself as a teen idol. The police are bastions of mundanity, trying to bring sanity back to a world split by public knowledge that this grim god of vengeance exists. The chase alternates between methodical procedure and inspired drama. The series is anything but a formulaic rehash of a genre which American audiences already have in excess.

Ultimately that’s all Netflix’s Death Note is. It adds nothing, and it sacrifices much. It wastes the viewers time and insults fans drawn in by the licensed property. It subjects the viewer to some of the tackiest songs I’ve ever heard in a soundtrack. It’s sure to disappear from Netflix suggestions soon, in line with their strategy of producing as many things as possible by scatter shot and just being quiet about the failures. Don’t bother searching for it.

#film review #netflix #anime #critique