#I usually only have to scroll through the first three sites before getting a nice site with messed up ads but perfectly free streaming | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkedtae · 5 years ago

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starfruit ⇾ jhs. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ camboy!hoseok x curvy!reader

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, livecam au, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ one video is all it takes to realize you’re all he wants.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.2k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ camboy!hoseok, dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, ass enthusiast!hoseok, nose piercing!hoseok, curvy!reader, sub!reader, shy!reader, nipple piercing!reader, vague mention of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, tongue kink, lowkey corruption kink, dirty talk, creampie, double penetration, reverse cowgirl position, sixty-nine position, oral (m. and f. receiving), degradation, overstimulation, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of star shaped vibrator, multiple orgasms, body worshipping, cum-eating, face licking, choking, dry-humping, a lil hair-pulling, spanking, swearing, begging, biting, clit biting, motorboating, fingering, rimming, ass job, ass play, spit play, breast play, a tad bit of jealousy/possessiveness for the win, star sparkling filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ hobi thirst hours:open

✩ banner by ⇾ @dee-ehn (thank you again dear~)

✩ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes (darling luff~) and @moonmintrails (my luffly soulmate~)

✩ le playlist

Blinds shut, doors locked. The routine is second nature at this point. Hoseok dims his lights before checking his hair in the mirror. He sighs at his reflection, hoping this lazy look of his is good enough for tonight’s live. Already shirtless, Hoseok sports baggy, grey sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, while his semi-hard cock is just barely visible.

A good enough tease, he thinks after one last glance. Or at least let’s hope it is.

He can’t bring himself to care too much about what is or isn’t “properly shown.” Maybe a year ago, or even six months ago, he would’ve made sure he was completely hard, his bulge unmistakingly visible through his sweatpants, and not have dimmed the lights. Now, however, it seems as though all he wants to do is the bare minimum. He’ll show as much as he needs to, get off as well as he has to, put on a good enough show to keep his viewers satisfied… for now.

Still, even the bare minimum requires a certain degree of effort. Making his way to his desk, Hoseok scrolls through his phone and turns on his playlist for tonight. The first suggestive song tickles out of the speakers and softly fills the room. Getting off on camera is only half the job of being a camstreamer. Setting the tone, giving the audience an experience to crave, is the other half.

As The Weeknd’s melody continues to hop between the walls of his bedroom, Hoseok makes sure his camera is properly set. Usually, he’d be making himself comfortable on his bed, preparing a variety of toys by his side to play with. Tonight is different. Tonight, Hoseok lacks the motivation to play around for an audience. In fact, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been lacking that motivation for a while. Tonight, he wants nothing more than to sit at his desk and use his hand to get himself off. Back to the basics, the bare minimum.

He looks forward to reading comments while he searches for the courage to share his news. He’s been thinking about this for a while, thinking about retiring from this kind of work. After three years of being on this site, he has cultivated a good following of viewers, but now the entire ordeal just seems… tiring. He loves sharing parts of himself to the camera, some more than others, but it feels like a chapter of his life that he has somewhat outgrown. Now, the entire job feels more like a chore. Not much pleasure, besides the one he stimulates himself, can be found before a camera anymore.

There’s something about the distance between him and others that he somewhat loathes now. Before, Hoseok found the disconnect, the stringless affair of live after live to be a comfort. He believed he could come and go as he pleased. He’d have fun with others at a safe enough proximity to fool around without the fear of catching serious feelings. It was a solid plan, until it wasn’t. All Hoseok craves now is that spark between him and another. And the more time he spends live streaming, the more he realizes how lonely it is.

His camera starts to flash, signaling it’s going to start recording in about fifteen seconds. Hoseok lets the red gleam pull him out of his thoughts as he stands up. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tenses his stomach a bit. He doesn’t have ripped abs, but he’s fit enough to give off that impression. The light stops flashing, shining a bright red to let him know the live has started. Cutting just under his nose, the camera captures his entire torso and just a bit under his hips. Views immediately pour in as do comments and some cash.

Hoseok chuckles a bit, watching as viewers beg him to drop his pants. The attention is just enough to get him fully hard. That’s one crutch Hoseok seems to have trouble letting go of; the attention.

Licking his lips, he starts to palm himself through his pants. He lets out a shaky sigh then pulls his chair forward and takes a seat once again. He leaves some room between him and the desk though as he slouches a bit and makes sure that they can see his hard-on through his loose sweatpants. With the camera rolling, Hoseok has no other choice but to play along, one last time at least.

“Hey,” he forces a smile. “Everyone ready for a relaxed night?”

[agustwantsthatd] : no toys tonight?

He shakes his head. “No toys,” he replies, continuing to rub himself over his pants. “Nothing fancy tonight. I hope that’s alright.”

Hoseok laughs to himself a bit at the mixed reactions. His aim to have a relaxed evening costs him a couple thousand viewers. In the past, something like that would’ve scared him enough to make him immediately drop his pants and move the show to his bed. But, now, he really can’t bring himself to feel even the slightest bit worried.

Just a few less people to break the news to.

Comments begging him to just take his sweats off start to stack. Hoseok runs his tongue across his teeth, puffing his bottom lip out while glaring at the comment section. He doesn’t appreciate being told what to do very often. Most of the time, he just does what he wants while talking to some to his audience like he’s fucking them instead of whatever toy he usually goes for. His patience for their attitude is wearing thin. They almost don’t treat him like a real person sometimes, talking to him like an object. It may have been what he wanted before, the distance, the ability to keep himself unattainable, but now it’s becoming something of a pet peeve.

[starfruit340] : it’s only been a day, but i’ve missed you. Hope you’ve been well.

Hoseok only just catches the kind comment before it’s casted off by another pile of demands, smiling at his screen. That Starfruit is always too nice for her own good. All her comments are gentle requests, sometimes even sweet nothings. Once he even caught her asking him how his day was and if he’s eating well. He’s not sure what a sweet soul like that is doing on a site like this. He has realized, in the last six months or so, that she’s been the only viewer to remind him of his humanity. Her ability to look passed the charade of his has been refreshing. He wonders if she knows, if she can tell he hasn’t been his best.

“Starfruit,” he breathes as comments questioning his sudden smile flood in. “You’re too sweet for your own good, honey.”

[starfruit340] : did he just say starfruit?

Immediately, Hoseok regrets his words, realizing his mistake. Not even a rookie would call a user out by name. A few viewers have turned on the user, bashing her for the favouritism he just displayed. “No fighting or nothing comes off,” Hoseok threatens, raising a brow. A smile plays on his lips as some users scold each other to stay in line.

[agustwantsthatd] : let’s not forget the real fruit we all want.

Hoseok has to keep himself from laughing at the comment. He doesn’t want to start anything else and that comment seems to be enough to keep everyone focused on him, so he doesn’t want to ruin it’s progress.

“Since you’ve all behaved yourselves,” he starts, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats. “The pants are coming off.”

He pushes the sweats down, lifting his hips a bit. His huge cock slaps his stomach once exposed, then stands tall. Kicking the pants off his ankles under the desk, Hoseok returns his hand around his veiny member, storking himself a couple of times.

It seems like his remark to Starfruit has made some viewers adopt her sense of concern for him. They begin asking about his day and if he’s doing well. He bites back the sneer that wavers the smile on his face. Though he would like to believe that their concern for his well being is genuine, he knows they’re only saying that in hopes to get his attention.

Hoseok can’t play around it for much longer. He forces a smile, replying, “My day was fine, darling. How was yours?”

Slowly pumping himself, he reads a few more comments then lays back in his chair. His usual cocky expression falters, a fact he’s not very proud of. He replies to some more users to cover it up, plastering on a fake smile long enough to avoid any questions on “what’s wrong.”

Hoseok falls silent, squirting some lube into his hand to help get himself off. He lets a few good moans out, closing his eyes and getting lost in the pleasure rather than focusing on the broadcast. His cock’s getting needier as he just slightly tightens his grip and moves his hand faster over himself. Rolling his hips into his hand, he sucks in a sharp breath.

The void within him cannot be pleased with one lousy hand job. Hoseok tries to refocus his attention on the live stream, hoping he might rediscover that forgotten thrill of exposing himself to everyone. However, the closer he gets to his orgasm, the clearer Hoseok realizes that the only thrill lies merely in the pleasure of getting off rather than doing it for an audience.

He huffs under his breath and rests his head back against his chair. Forget the camera and the thousands of people watching him get himself closer to his high. Hoseok realizes that if he’s going to cum right now, he’s going to have to attach his loneliness to something, someone other than himself.

The first person in mind sparkles with kindness and Hoseok tells himself he’s only focusing his energy on her because he just wants to get all this over with already. But Hoseok can’t deny the swirl of excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of her. He wonders if her voice is just as sweet as her words, eyes just as innocent as her soul. Pumping himself faster, he can’t help but think about her smile. Is it as bright and full of hope as her comments? Or does it delicately twinkle like her personality?

A staggered moan tears through his throat, adam’s apple bouncing, as his brows come together. Jaw clenches, nostrils flare, and Hoseok groans his pleasure through gritted teeth. Suddenly sprouting out his release, he gasps and rolls his body into his hand. Usually, he’d make a show of this, but he can’t deny it’s truth right now. The shots of cum land over his legs, some even on the ground but for the first time in a long time, Hoseok can’t care less. Chest still heaving, he tries to dump all thoughts of her from his mind but she’s tethered deeper within now.

Stringing a few curses, Hoseok mentally scolds himself for his inability to think tonight. Any other night, he would’ve pulled up some porn on his phone way before the camera started rolling and hid the lewd video from the viewers’ sight. He would’ve continued on his efforts to carry out the bare minimum.

But, thinking of her, attaching himself to a user he’d never even properly talked to, only further proves to him how important it is for him to leave this life behind. He’s desperate to fill a void and acts recklessly. The determination to break the news hits anew. He’s sure this is it this time. He’s going to tell them.

That determination trickles the moment he returns his attention on the screen. The comment section is going wild. His words get caught in his throat. A rush of cash floods in the tune of clattering coins. Praises follow commands and Hoseok is not sure if he can even keep his screen persona up for much longer, let alone drop the ball about leaving.

Eyes growing heavier, exhaustion slowly overtakes him. “I’m sorry for the quiet show tonight,” he mumbles, cleaning himself up. “It’s just…”

He stares at the comments, the view count, the amount of cash he made tonight and sighs. His courage falters, so that happy, hopeful image resurfaces. He forces a wide smile and shrugs. “I had a bit of a rough day, but hopefully tomorrow makes up for it. I’ll catch you all in the next live. Sleep well.”

Hoseok leaves them with the image of his fakest smile as he turns the camera off. His entire mask crumbles when it’s over. After cleaning himself off, Hoseok pulls on his pants and tries to convince himself that it just wasn’t the right time. He just got off to one of the users. He’s clearly not in the right state of mind to announce this kind of decision.

With a sigh, he switches his computer off then the music and crawls into bed. Face buried in his pillow, Hoseok waits for sleep to wash over him and hopes, with every fibre of his being, that the fear of telling them the truth doesn’t follow him into tomorrow.

A loud yawn leaves Hoseok as he shuffles back into his room. He shuts the door while taking a quick sip of his morning— well, mid-morning coffee. He’s not used to sleeping in since it always happens to throw his entire day off. He would’ve been fast asleep by eleven, but a neighbour of his, a couple of doors down, seemed to have other plans for the night. With all her moaning, Hoseok was barely able to get a wink of sleep. She wasn’t up for long, but just the fact that she had interrupted him in the middle of drifting to sleep was enough to keep him wide awake. Once he’s up, he’s up. There’s not much he could do about it.

With a tired sigh, Hoseok sets his mug on his desk and logs onto his computer. He makes it a habit to check the live website for new donors and sometimes even replies to some comments left last night. He hovers the cursor over a new post, wondering if a quick broadcast would break the news better. At the chime of a new message, Hoseok’s attention darts to his inbox.

[from starfruit134] : so sorry to bother you

Hoseok brings his brows together. Heart thumping, he immediately recognizes the username. His mind reels to last night, trying to recall if he said your name again. Did he maybe mutter it again when he was caught up in the act of getting him off? His fears intensify as he wonders if any of those viewers followed you into your inbox last night to leave some nasty comments. Maybe some were so hurtful you needed to reach out to him.

Confusion riddles his face when you debunk all his theories with a simple string of texts.

[from starfruit134] : hope all is well.

Hoseok’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a second. Should he really be engaging in a conversation with you? After all that’s transpired last night, the idea of privately talking to you has his stomach flipping with the flutters of butterfly wings.

He doesn’t know when he last talked to a girl like you though. And the more he stares at your username, the more he craves the sincere interaction of simply one person getting to know another.

[to starfruit134] : could always be worse. are you alright? did anyone bother you last night?

[from starfruit134] : no, no one bothered me. i just came to thank you for getting them off my back actually

A little smile plays on his lips upon reading your message. His heart murmurs, stunting his breath a bit by how sweet you can be.

[to starfruit134] : no need to thank me.

Hoseok’s about to reassure you that the entire interaction was his fault when you suddenly hit him with a question he wasn’t expecting.

[from starfruit134] : have you really been alright? you didn’t seem like you were feeling well last night.

You noticed? Hoseok furrows his brows, sitting back in his seat. His fingers brush against the letters as he tries to come up with a good enough lie, but he really can’t bring himself to type one out. He wonders how much you’ve picked up on. Can you see through his entire persona or just the fact that he’s lost the motivation to put in the same effort?

Swallowing thickly, Hoseok hopes his reply is enough to keep your questions at bay.

[to starfruit134] : just an off day

[from starfruit134] : ahhh i see.

[from starfruit134] : well, i have something for you.

[from starfruit134] : has sent a video

Hoseok bites his lip, a single brow quirking at the thumbnail. The first thing he notices is ass. Curved so beautifully, your ass struggles to remain contained in your yellow panties. If he had known you were this thick, he would’ve thought of you sooner. With a tilt of his head, he stares at your plump cheeks, smirking at hints of cellulite and lining stretch marks. A light blush colours his face and he has to pull himself out of the trance of the picture to properly return his attention to your messages.

[from starfruit134] : you must get this a lot. these kinds of videos.

You aren’t wrong. He receives videos like this multiple times on a daily basis. However, not a single one of these people have ever been so… kind. Many of them demand that he watch them, which only turns him off. Yes, maybe once or twice, Hoseok appreciates a guiding hand in his sexual endeavours online. But, off camera, all he wants is to be spoken to with a bit more kindness. It’s for this reason that he usually deletes all those videos without a second thought.

[from starfruit 134] : i don’t mean to bother you with mine. but, you looked so exhausted last night and i wanted to show you how much i appreciate your dedication to still live stream.

[from starfruit134] : also i’d love it if you could tell me what you think? maybe even offer a few pointers? i’m thinking about starting one of my own lives and i just wanna make sure i’m good enough.

The first message has him smiling, but the second one fades any happiness he thought he held. Of course, you’re here for a favour. Were your previous messages about his well-being serious, or were you just buttering him up to get him to comment on your video? Do you even really appreciate his efforts to put on a show?

His mind laps around a million doubts, but his heart intercepts the discussion with the reminder of your usual attitude and presence. You’re considerate, that fact being clear in the way you’ve always put his needs before yours. And even though he really is just some guy online, you’ve always treated him with a degree of humanity that others lacked. He doesn’t blame them, as he’s admitted to himself that he’s the one provoking their feral reactions. But the fact that you can switch between the two so seamlessly means something to him. A little sigh pushes past his lips. You’ve always seemed sincere enough, so why shouldn’t he give you the benefit of the doubt?

Hoseok sits back in his chair and rubs his chin, staring at that thumbnail. Just from a first glance, he knows you’d do well. A lot of the cam business centres around superficial tendencies and he can’t deny your beauty. He could easily ignore your message, like he does with others, or pretend to have viewed it and reply with a single word, “good.” But, something within him can’t let you go that easily.

Licking his lips, Hoseok reaches for the lube. He’s getting hard anyways and there’s still a whole day before his next live. After putting on his headphones, Hoseok takes a deep breath and starts the video, full screening it to make sure he gets every angle of your ass.

Lights dimmed, you smile shyly at the camera. A string of star shaped lights twinkle behind you, illuminating your room with a sensual glow. The quiet beat of a suggestive song can only just be picked up by the camera as you run a hand through your hair and toss it to the other side of your head. You’ve created quite an ambiance for him, one he definitely finds himself craving.

“Hi,” you giggle, biting your lip nervously. “I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

Hoseok can’t help but smile with you, setting the lube down to just admire your cuteness for now. He just knew you had a stellar smile. Someone that nice has to have a cute smile to match it.

Fuck, she’s adorable.

He can’t keep his eyes off yours, even with your breasts squished in that tight shirt of yours. You have this endearing innocence that he’s not so used to. Dressed so slutty, looking so precious, you sit at your desk with your bed behind you. Hoseok is suddenly charged with the urge to ruin you, just laying you down on your bed and dicking you down so good, you’d never want to leave his side. He’s not really sure what you were so worried about. It’s rather obvious to him that you’d do great as a camgirl. Yet, the thought makes his heart twinge.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking up.

Hoseok can’t believe how cute you look even when you’re just thinking. He glances at the time of the video, cursing himself when he sees it's only been ten seconds and he’s already whipped for you. He wonders if this is an act, if you know exactly what you’re doing. One look into your nervous eyes let’s him know you’re clueless to your own charms.

“Well, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. You looked…” you trail off, chewing on your lip before slightly shaking your head and changing the course of your sentence. Still, Hoseok can fill in the blank you’ve left. You can tell he’s been off his game, he concludes. Now the question remains: how long have you known?

“I just wanted to know from the best if I’m cut out for this kind of…” Pausing, you search for the right word. “Fun.”

With a deep breath, you let your shoulders fall a bit and let your gaze wander only to look back at the camera like you just remembered something. “Oh, I guess I should show you what I’m wearing first, right? Why am I asking? He can’t reply.”

Hoseok chuckles a bit at your little rant. He licks his lips to whisper, “it’s okay, honey. Show me what you’ve got.”

As you get up, Hoseok shifts in his seat. Jaw going slack, he has to remind himself to breathe. You stand up and show off that tiny, little yellow crop top you’re wearing with those matching lace panties that hug your curves all too well. Fisting his hands, Hoseok lowly growls, wanting to rip them right off while he’s thrusting into you. He knows he’s barely seen anything yet, but he’s already nudging his underwear off. Inhaling a sharp breath, he watches his screen intently as you slowly show off your body. Giving your back to the camera, you cup the underside of your ass then use your fingers to shake each cheek. Your ass jiggles even though you’ve barely touched it.

“Oh, shit,” Hoseok sighs, melting back into his seat. How the fuck can it move like that? With each shake, your cheeks bounce up in waves. He rests a hand over his mouth, brows furrowing, as he watches you tease the fuck out of him. At least three new ways to fuck you come to mind every time you shyly look over your shoulder at the camera.

You give each cheek a good rub then stand with your legs hip length apart and lean forward enough to just stick your ass out. Hoseok’s just about to wonder what you’re up to when you start to bounce a bit on the balls of your feet. The waves return, ass clapping loudly, effortlessly with each jump. Hoseok has lost all ability to give a shit if his roommates are home or not. He groans out at the sight and tilts his head a bit, thinking it’s going to give him a better view.

You’ve perfected that move. Catching glimpses of cellulite, Hoseok smiles to himself at your natural beauty. He almost forgot you were a natural girl. He wonders how natural you’ve left your pussy for him.

As you continue to make a show of your ass, his hand hovers over the timeline of the video. He debates on whether or not he should just skip to the parts where you’re finally naked and pleasing yourself to the thought of him. But, with every second that you clap or shake your ass, Hoseok concludes that he really doesn’t want to miss a second of you. Moving his cursor to the side, Hoseok settles on letting you tease him for a little while longer.

You giggle as you look at the lens over your shoulder and stand up straight again, suddenly getting shy. Hoseok smiles and chuckles a bit with you, not able to resist how adorable you are. He lets out a hissing sigh, trying to figure out why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. The thought of you last night got him off, the sight of you this morning has transported him into uncharted grounds. He’s never sure what he should be doing. Sometimes, he’s too entranced by your beauty to do anything at all, and other times his hand acts on his own. Taking a deep breath, Hoseok decides to simply stroke himself a bit for now, watching as you pick up the camera and set it up just in front of your bed.

You crawl over the sheets, oblivious to how good of an angle the camera has of your ass. “I just finished watching your live and I didn’t touch myself just so I can show you how wet you get me,” you say as you seat yourself in front of your pillows and spread your legs.

Hoseok mutters a quiet, “oh god,” when his eyes fall on the big, dark wet patch between your legs. Even your inner thighs look slick and sticky. You pull the hem of your panties aside to show him the mess he’s made. Hoseok smiles when he sees that you’ve trimmed the hair up for the most part, leaving a little patch on the top part of your pussy. Fate is cruel to present his perfect girl yet keep her so far away. Hoseok can’t fight the frustration festering in his heart at the reality of your separate worlds.

But as you continue your discovery of pleasures, Hoseok can’t dwell on the misfortune of your shared distant fate. You’re too cute to deny attention, not like Hoseok has much of a choice to do so when you’re offering yourself up to him on a star speckled platter.

You tug on your folds with your other hand, fingers in the shape of a ‘V,’ to properly show him how ready you are. Swollen and sensitive, your pussy is drenched with your wetness.

His eyes twitch, roll back at the sight. Never has he been this fucking turned on before. He huffs a breath, trying to regain his composure as you further spread your legs. Biting on your lip, you look to be lost in thought, looking up at the camera in wonderment.

“Hmm,” you hum again, making Hoseok’s heart flutter. “I think I’ll just take this off. Might be easier to play that way,” you give him a single shoulder shrug.

Hoseok lowly moans and nods. His strokes become a bit fast as he watches you pull your panties off and toss them somewhere in your room. Keeping your legs spread, you pull up your shirt and expose your breasts. Hoseok pauses the video, removing his hand from his already twitching cock as he leans his elbows on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down because he knows that if he doesn’t he’s going to cum just from the sight of your duality.

Sneaking a glance at your frozen image on his screen, Hoseok quietly moans to himself. Your shirt is still on but rolled up to display your tits. He can’t believe that someone as shy and innocent as you also has a nipple piercing. He can definitely tell that you have a slutty side, but you don’t like showing it often. The fact that you’re even exposing yourself to him like this is enough to make him want to have you all for himself. He’s not usually possessive but he just can’t stand the thought of you posting videos like this for everyone else.

Playing the video again, Hoseok sits back up in his chair and just watches you for now. He decides he’s not going to touch himself yet until he sees you finally start to play with yourself. He wants to see you enjoy yourself first before indulging in his own pleasures. He also figures it might be the best way to hold off on his impending orgasm.

You shyly smile at the camera and pinch your nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers. Hoseok smiles, groaning to himself as you quietly giggle and bite your lip. He can see that, in this moment, you’re putting up an act, and he’s loving it. It’s not as adorable as when you’re unintentionally cute and nervous, but it’s just as sexy.

Nervously sliding a hand down to your pussy, you cup your pierced breast with your other hand and gently massage it. You land a few light slaps on your pussy, moaning louder with each hit. Hoseok’s drooling, though he doesn’t pay much mind to that. Completely enthralled by the sight of you looking so pleased, he doesn’t even realize he has leaned forward so close that his face is only a few inches away from the screen. All he can think about is burying himself between your legs and drowning in your pussy.

A high pitched moan escapes you as you start to lazily rub your clit with your fingers. Your other hand moves from your breast to rest behind you as you lean back and get yourself comfortable. Gazing down at your own work, you moan again, sighing contently as you gather more of your wetness and further rub it against your needy bud.

Pause.

Hoseok leans back in his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. If you were here right now, he’d seat you on his lap and help guide your bounces on his throbbing cock. What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You have to know how fucking hot you are. Hoseok begins to wonder if you’re even really looking to get pointers or if you’re just here to show off. You’ve already set the scene, and look the part. There’s not really much left to it. Maybe his use of your name last night switched something in you. However, judging by how nervous you are, he assumes you must really be looking for pointers and not just showing off because he noticed you. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re too fucking hot to not know it yourself.

He chews on his lower lip as he debates on what he should tell you. Just a couple of minutes in and Hoseok is willing to transfer all his funds to you if you were a live streamer like he was. But the idea of sharing you with everyone else is not something he’s particularly fond of. Pushing that thought aside, Hoseok ignores the disheartening feeling swimming in his chest from the mere thought of someone else witnessing your precious figure like that. He decides to simply focus on the video and not take you out of its context so much anymore. You’re just some hot girl on a screen, he tells himself, nothing to be overtaken by.

Play.

You slap your pussy again, squealing giggles then looking up at the camera shyly. Hoseok blushes, licking his lips at how fucking cute you are. With a gasp, you look between the camera and your pussy. Hoseok furrows his brows, wondering what’s got you all worked up now. You shift closer to the edge, grabbing the camera and bringing it down to your wet pussy.

Hoseok’s face flushes red as your entire wetness is in HD. He assumes this must be what his view would be like if you were here with him right now. However, that’s not what’s got him all choked up and breathless. You move your fingers up off your pussy and Hoseok growls loudly at the sticky string of juices that connects your pussy to your fingers. You giggle, in the process of placing the camera back in it’s spot when he pauses the video once more.

This can’t be real. No one this hot has ever even looked at him twice. Those other girls that flood his inbox are beautiful but you’re fucking enchanting. Fuck, not taking you out of context. You did that yourself when you sent him this video looking that cute and irresistible after a handful of messages worrying over his well being. You’ve made yourself more real than your video, obscured his senses with your endearing personality and beautiful body.

Minimizing the full screen for a second, Hoseok clicks back to his inbox in a different tab and deletes all the other videos from the other girls, even resorting to blocking them, leaving your messages behind. He clicks back to your video, full screening it again. He’s decided: you’re all he wants.

After playing the video again, Hoseok leans forward and watches as you reset the camera on your bed and lay back into your pillows.

“I’m wet enough for a toy,” you think out loud, making Hoseok smile. His cheeks hurt a bit from how much you’ve got him grinning throughout the first three minutes of your video.

You reach into your night table, grabbing a yellow star shaped toy, bulky with curved edges, from the first drawer. You show it to him with a smile, and he breaths a chuckle, completely taken by your charming antics. You shove the toy into your mouth, wetting it even more and lean back over to reach for something else. Legs still spread, pussy still glistening, you rummage through the drawer for a moment longer.

Though your cunt is on full display for him, Hoseok focuses his attention on your face, enchanted by how cute you look when you're focused on something. You have the long string of the yellow toy dangling out of your lips, looking like you’re sucking a lollipop as you finally find what you’re looking for and pull it out to show it to the camera. The long, golden cylinder remote operates the vibrator, Hoseok realizes.

Taking the vibrator out of your mouth, you set the remote down. You move the wet toy between your folds, drenching it in your juices before tugging on your pussy’s lips and shoving the toy in. Your brows furrow, mouth hangs open as you slowly slide it in, squealing in the process. You swallow thickly once it’s in, the rubber line hanging out of it just like it did in your mouth.

“If you were here,” you start as you pick up the remote again. “I’d let you control it.” Smiling to the camera, you flip your hair off your shoulder and suck on your bottom lip.

“Let me?” Hoseok questions under his breath. He can tell from the way your eyes sparkle with mischief that you’re choosing your words carefully. You’re egging him on, knowing he’s the dominant type. As you turn the vibrator on at its lowest setting, Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that you’d love the feeling of his tongue between your folds, maybe even a bit lower. Watching you make yourself comfortable, he scoffs, “Honey, I can ruin you.”

You keep the remote beside you as you close your eyes and enjoy the little stimulation. Hoseok pumps some lube in his hand and starts to stroke himself again, wanting to match the same level of stimulation you’re getting to feel as though he’s there with you. You must have been getting a bit impatient with yourself though, because not even seven seconds later, one hand is on your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it, while the other is on the remote, turning up the intensity of the vibrations.

Caught in the pleasure, your thumb trembles over the buttons, the vibrator suddenly being heard clearly over the camera. With the loud hum of your toy and the symphony of moans escaping you, the music can barely be heard. It’s just you, him and that star shaped vibrator you’ve seemed to lose all control over. A screech tumbles out of you as the remote falls out of your hand and onto the floor. You let out a moan of frustration while the vibrator goes crazy inside you.

Hoseok can’t help but smile at your horny, clumsy state. He’s so enraptured by your annoyed yet pleased sounds that he doesn’t even realize he’s been jerking his cock to a fast pace for the last little bit.

You lay back in your pillows, seemingly accepting your fate as your body jolts and eyes roll back with every buzz of pleasure. High moan after moan tears out of you. You beg him to never stop, grinding your hips up and Hoseok can’t help but wonder what he’s doing to you exactly in your mind that’s making you this needy.

“O-oh, fuck yee-eess,” you manage to whine. You have your arms framing your breasts, pushing them together for him to admire as you get yourself off. While one hand gingerly plays with one of your nipples, your other hand rests near your mouth, sucking on your trembling fingers like you’re trying to stay quiet.

“Fuck, just scream,” Hoseok whispers under his breath. What he’d give right now to have you scream his name. He moans loudly at the sight of your riling on your bed, so captivated by your pleasure, as he jacks himself off at a speed he never thought he could.

Your moans get higher pitched by the second and Hoseok realizes that you’re getting closer. Hips shooting up, you finally cry out all your moans and whines as you cum. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sight, breathlessly whining to himself as you roll your hips up to ride your orgasm out.

Face lost in the pile of pillows behind you as you throw your head back, all Hoseok can really see is your slick gleamed pussy. Hints of your orgasm leaks out of you before you flip to your side and pull your knees up to your chest. Whimpering quietly into your pillow, you bounce a bit on your bed.

Hoseok swallows hard. Going to lick his lips, he notices another trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t make an effort to wipe it away, one hand too busy pumping his needy cock while the other’s clutching onto the chair’s armrest. Knuckles whitening, he tightens his grip and lets out a dark moan at the sight of you overstimulating yourself because you’re just that needy.

Sitting up again, you run a hand through your hair and try to spread your legs. They’re still shaking; you’re still shaking. Eyes wet with horny tears, you let a few loud moans slip pass your pouty lips. “Fu-ck,” you stutter, eyes rolling back a bit as you hold onto the underside of your thighs. He can tell you’re doing your best to keep your pussy visible for the camera. You’re trying desperately to hold your legs apart, but with all that uninterrupted friction, you’re struggling. Knees knocking together, blocking your breasts and pussy from view, you can’t seem to keep your body under control.

All previous attempts to remain quiet have fully been discarded. As Hoseok previously requested, you start screaming out your pleasures. Falling back into your pillows, body shuddering, you put all your strength in pulling your legs apart and scream at the instant pleasure it provides. Hoseok furrows his brows, chest heaving as he watches you toe the line of your next orgasm.

You start to rile in place again, choking on a sob-like moan. Hoseok lets out a little sigh at the sound, swearing to himself that it sounds all too familiar. He doesn’t dwell too much on the familiarity, though, as you enjoy your next high.

Then you suddenly sit up, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” you practically sob, quickly pulling the vibrator out and letting all your juices squirt out of you. You hold the vibrator to your clit and cry out as your release sprays all over you, the bed and the camera. Shutting your eyes, you stick your tongue out to catch a quick taste of yourself before looking back at the camera and squealing.

Hoseok jumps back a bit, as if he too is getting squirted all over. His orgasm suddenly overtakes him just from the sight of you tasting yourself then trying to save the camera all while still holding the vibrator to your clit and squirting whatever you have to offer. The way you’re still desperate for stimulation even after possibly ruining your camera has him almost shaking. Ropes of his cum fall all over his desk, streaking his screen and keyboard, but he couldn’t care less. You’re both a fucking mess and he likes it that way.

You finally discard the vibrator, letting it continue to buzz on your bed and fall back. Your body shudders a bit and you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your orgasm course through you for a minute longer. “Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself. Slowly, you unfold yourself and sit up to wipe the camera off with the hem of your shirt. Laying back onto your pillows, you’re breathless, eyes heavy and breasts heaving as you giggle quietly at the lens. “I don’t know if you could tell, but that wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe I’m not cut out for this camgirl life afterall.”

You’ve got that shy look in your eyes again, and Hoseok only cleans his screen to get a better look at you. He’s still pumping himself, not completely drained and satisfied just yet. And though you look a bit fucked out, he can tell that you can definitely go for another round. But, you don’t. Instead, you brush the hair out of your face and pull your shirt down. He groans as your breasts disappear from view.

“I-I think I’ve kept the neighbours up for long enough,” you nervously giggle before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Hoseok huffs, sitting back in his seat. Another couple of rounds won’t make a difference then, will it? He thinks to himself as you wish him well and hope you’ve done a good job. A breathy chuckle escapes him at your words. He can’t believe you could be this clueless to your own charms. It’s clear to him, as it would be to anyone else who would watch your lives if you were to make them, that you’re absolutely perfect.

Glancing down at the throb between his legs, Hoseok finds himself hardening once again just from the thought of you. The last stilled image of you reaching back to turn the camera off, a clear shot to your breasts, nipple stud in full view, has him squirming in his seat a bit.

From the yellow glow of your username, Hoseok knows that you’re still online. But with his cock still craving another round of your beauty, he decides against giving you an answer yet. He tells himself he needs to watch your video one more time. Or maybe even three. Just to be sure.

After wiping his desk down from his last orgasm, Hoseok restarts the video. He pumps a bit more lube in his hand and smiles as you greet him through the camera.

“Hi. I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

You sit atop of the washing machine, your roommate, Minh, across from you. After how your night ended, you needed to wash your bedding. Upon hearing you mention leaving this morning, she decided it’s time to clean her laundry too and tagged along. You don’t really mind it. All you hope is that she doesn’t ask too many questions about why you’re washing your sheets earlier than usual.

You knock your feet against the washer window and try to soothe the quick beats of your anxious heart while she reads peacefully. It’s been exactly four hours since you’ve sent him the video you took of yourself last night. You know he’s online. The golden glow of his name tells you as much anyways. You’re not sure if he has looked at your message though. Maybe he’s ignoring you, or worse. He’s blocked you. You swallow back a nervous lump in your throat at the thought and tell yourself that you’re being ridiculous.

“Stop,” Minh sighs, looking up from her book.

You still your legs, muttering a quiet apology. As she turns back to her book, you wonder if it was your mention of last night that’s thrown him off. He did look uncomfortable, most of the time lost in his own world. But, maybe he didn’t want anyone else to know that. Maybe the fact that you brought it up has turned him off.

BUZZ!

Your heart nearly tumbles out of your chest at the sound. Hands darting to the phone, you quickly unlock it to look at your notifications. Your eyes light up when you see his username. Lips trembling, you tap the notification and wait anxiously for the app to load to his message.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i can’t imagine a moment of you like this being a bother

A little gasp escapes you at his response. You blink, once, twice, three times, trying to make sure that what you’re reading isn’t just some hopeful thinking you’re projecting simply because you find yourself completely and utterly infatuated by him. Reading the message over and over again, you try your best to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You know full well that you can’t come up with something witty to send back if you get all giddy.

His comment is cute but you got an earful from Mrs. Jiwoo across the hall asking that you bring men over at an earlier time to get that over with sooner. Minh was completely confused, having spent the night out with a few friends. You had to later explain to her that Mrs. Jiwoo has no idea what she’s talking about. And though both conversations were mortifying, you’re somewhat relieved Mrs. Jiwoo didn’t think you were alone, getting off to some guy on a screen, and that Minh bought your excuse.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i think this site would crash if you started up your own livestream honey

The pet name has your knees knocking just as it did last night. You still can’t believe he said your username and spoke to you through his live. Sure, it resulted in some backlash, but having his attention like that was like nothing you’ve experienced before.

Looking around, you make sure you haven’t caught Minh’s attention. She remains unbothered, flipping a page in her book. Glancing back down at your phone, you let out a little giggle. Is this really happening? This guy must get tons of videos like the one you just sent, tons of people must throw themselves at him like you indirectly did. With that thought suddenly in mind, you wonder if he’s merely telling you all this to be nice. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings and is talking you up just to keep you away.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : you really mean it?

You type and delete the message a couple of times before finally sending it. Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the three floating bubbles wave as he types out his reply. Did that sound too desperate? Your fingers tremble over the keyboard again as you let out a shaky deep breath. No. You mentally assert. Why would he lie? If he wanted to get you off his back he would have ignored your messages, maybe even deleted them all too. He has nothing to gain from lying to you.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : with all my heart

You bite back a giggle, in the middle of typing out a reply of gratitude when he sends another message that has you shaking again.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : but i don’t think you should host a livestream

Defeated, disheartened, disillusioned, you scoff at your phone. Is he playing games? Is that what he’s up to right now? Slouching, you knit your brows and glare down at your screen.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : thought you meant what you said?

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i did

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i do

[from hopeonthescreen340] : youre just a little too innocent for this kind of scene

You shake your head, dryly chuckling in disbelief. What kind of backhanded compliment is that? Too innocent? Yes, maybe you were nervous in the beginning but you thought that the rest of the video was pretty good. Heart sinking, you can only stare down at your phone.

How could you not see this coming? You sent your favourite camboy a video of yourself with only the best scenario in mind. How could you so easily disregard the possibility of being rejected like this? Running a hair through your hair, you type a quick, plain response.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : k. thanks.

Putting your phone away, you turn back to laundry. With a ding, you hop off the machine with Minh and get to drying. The warm, freshly cleaned sheets will probably be the new highlight of your day. So the sooner you finish cleaning them, the quicker this day will go by. Or, at least that’s what you hope.

A tired sigh fills the living room as you switch the channel again. Snacking on some cherries, you’ve taken to eating your feelings away. You’ve already gone through two packs of blueberries and a pack of strawberries. Your lips are smeared with the cherry juice and fingernails stained red.

As you change the channel once more, your mind wanders back to the messages. Maybe he’s right? Maybe you are too “innocent” or whatever to be a regular on a livestream. You roll your eyes at yourself, knowing that’s not what’s got you so tired of the day.

The truth is you never really had your heart set on being a livestreamer. You know deep down all you really wanted was some more attention from an online crush. You wanted to feel beautiful to him, wanted to know he was losing himself to the thought of you. To have him crave you like you crave him was your real intention behind that video. And now that you know that’s not the case, you can’t help but feel riddled with regret and stupidity. You should’ve taken what you could, taken the use of your username as the flirty, casual comment it was meant to be. You took him out of the context of the live stream too soon, too quick. You’ve got your hopes up and all you have left to show for it is cherry lips and fingertips.

The vibrating hum of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You grab a tissue and wipe as much of the fruit off your hands before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s busy here. I’m probably gonna be home late.”

You glance out the window, judging how dark it already is. The sun’s already setting, swirls of golden peach hues taking over the darkening sky. Minh’s not usually home before dark anyways, but you appreciate the call either way. “Alright. There’s some leftovers for you when you get here.”

“Great, I’m starved. Hey, did you check the mail?”

You bite on your lip to hold back a forgetful sigh. “Mhm,” you lie, slowly getting up from your spot. You tiptoe your way to the door and try to pick up your keys as quietly as possible.

Minh must’ve heard the lie in the sudden high tone of your voice or the jingle of the keys because her scoldings soon followed. “I told you to check it four times before I left. It’s probably full now. You know I’m waiting on a package. How is it supposed to fit if mail from a week ago is still in there?”

“I’m getting it right now. I promise!” you reassure.

Minh sighs and mutters a “you better” before hanging up.

You sigh and toss your phone on the table by the door, heading out to get Minh’s precious mail. You were going to suggest that she just pick it up on her way to the apartment once she’s off her shift, but the last time you did that, she scolded you for not doing your half of the chores. You figured it’s better to just go do it yourself.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve left barefoot. And, to top that embarrassing realization, you also left behind a sweater, cardigan, something to cover yourself with as all you have on is a pastel yellow tank top and a pair of matching lounge shorts. Annoyed with yourself, you figure it's much easier to just quickly go grab your mail now instead of riding the elevator up and down.

You pad the cold ground of the building’s lobby, rushing to the foyer before someone can see you. After fumbling with the keys for a couple of seconds, you finally find the right one and unlock your mailbox.

“‘Scuse me,” a voice mutters to your left.

You keep your eyes locked on your mail. For some reason, you figure that if you don’t make eye contact with the other tenant, then you’d face less embarrassment. So, you mumble an apology and side stepping to the right all while keeping your head low. Your plan seems foolproof until he quietly thanks you in a deep voice all too familiar to ignore. That lively tone laced in a tired voice tickles the curve of your spine, making you roll your shoulders back.

Curiosity always seems to get the best of you. Trailing your gaze up his frame, you think he doesn’t look that familiar until-

“Oh god,” you whisper.

He turns to face you, face dropping when he recognizes you as well. You bring your letters up to your face, shielding yourself from the shame and embarrassment of coming face to face with the man that subvertly rejected you online. Peeking above them, however, you can’t resist the urge to check him out. You tell yourself it’s to make sure it’s really him, but you know full well that you just want to get a good look at him.

Loose grey sweatpants, baggy white shirt, black hair in its usual middle part, exposing just the right amount of forehead to get you wet from just one glance. Oh, and that little, silver hoop pierced into his nostril. It looks even more heavenly in person, as does he. Yeah, it’s definitely him. You can feel your heart taking residence in your throat as you meet his dazed gaze.

“Oh my god,” you repeat to yourself in a whisper. Glancing between him and the key in his mailbox, you can’t believe he lives in the same building as you. You’ve been watching his videos for about six months now. Never had you seen him around your building before, not even a bump in the elevator.

“Starfruit,” he mutters, sounding surprised himself.

For some reason, the nod to your username draws a little mewl out of you. Your eyes widen the moment you realize what you’ve just done. His brows shoot up, the tips of his ears tinting red.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I, um, I didn’t mean to do any of that.”

His expression immediately softens, a little smirk gracing his lips as he scans your figure. You shift your weight from foot to foot, eyes averting to the mailboxes as his eyes lock on your hips, drinking in the way your shorts sit on your curves. You can feel his eyes soon trail up and linger on your breasts. You internally scold yourself for resting your shoulders back and puffing out your chest so he can get a better view. Even after all that’s transpired, you still can’t help but throw yourself at him.

He doesn’t seem to mind that, however, shamelessly staring at how your cleavage peeks out of your pastel yellow tank top. Clearing his throat, he snaps his gaze back to your face as if just remembering that you’re watching him stare at you. “Uh, there’s no need to apologize,” he shrugs before turning to grab his mail too.

“I didn’t know you lived-”

“Me either,” he cuts you off, biting his lip when he realizes what he did. He lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. “Uh-”

“I wouldn’t have sent anything if I’d known,” you explain. Shutting your mailbox, you lock it once more and remove your key all while continuing to hold your mail over your face to hide your shame.

His smile somewhat wavers as he tilts his head to get a better look at your face despite the presence of your mail in front of it. “Why?”

You clutch onto your keys, avoiding his gaze as you reply, “well, um, it’s just a bit embarrassing to send that kind of thing to someone in your building.”

“And it wouldn’t be to a stranger?”

You sigh and finally meet his eyes. “For all I knew, you were on the other side of the world. I didn’t risk much when you rejec-” You cut yourself off, clearing your throat. “It’s just different when it’s to a stranger.”

He shuts his mailbox too, dryly chuckling at you. He gives you one last once over, licking his lips, before walking past you. You furrow your brows, confused eyes following his tall frame back to the building’s lobby. You can’t help but wonder what the look was for. Did you say something wrong? Maybe that whole thing about strangers was offensive?

“Wait,” you call after him, following his steps to the elevator.

He pushes the button then spares you a side glance as he shifts through his mail. You curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly grabbing his attention. His eyes lock on the simple action, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

You hold your mail to your chest, letting out a little sigh, then muster the courage to say. “Look, I’m just sorry I sexualized you.” The honest confession has you gulping, looking at the floor in the hopes that it will open up and swallow you whole just to get you out of this humiliation fest you’ve got yourself lost in. “It’s just easier to feel less guilt about it through a stranger’s live stream rather than a neighbour’s.”

The elevator rings, signalling it’s arrival and you wait for him to make a move to enter. Only when he nods towards the door, urging you to go in first, do you step onto the elevator.

“Floor?”

“Tenth,” you mutter, regretting every word you’ve spoken since running into him.

He remains silent for a second before clearing his throat. Glancing at him, you raise a brow. “I sexualized myself, so there’s no need to blame yourself for anything. And, for the record, I’m not sorry about that video at all.” A blush creeps up his neck at his own confession.

Licking your lips, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it. Not much of his reply makes sense. For one, it goes against whatever you thought he meant in his messages earlier today. You want to believe he rejected you since he already said that in so many words but his sincerity makes you question your interpretation.

“So you actually…” you trail off, reading his expression carefully. “You actually liked the video?”

His entire face reddens. You’ve never seen him this shy before. He’s usually so cocky, so controlled. Not a lot can faze him. In fact, now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him fazed by any sexual things his viewers have commented. Yet, here he is. Looking flushed and, dare you even think, embarrassed, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It was amazing,” he whispers, looking over to you. “I watched it more than once actually.”

Your jaw falls, eyes widen. Is that why it took him so long to reply? The air in your lungs thickens as you realize that he probably got off to your video. The thought alone has you shivering in place with lustful pride.

“Really?”

He nods.

“How many times?”

DING!

The elevator signals the floor arrival and it’s only now that you realize he only hit the button to the tenth floor. He nods for you to step out first and you obey, eyes aimlessly staring at the floor as you try to make sense of the fact that the two of you not only live in the same building, but on the same floor as well.

With all that has come to light in the last few moments, you realize you can’t get lost in your worries anymore. Turning to face him, you offer a shy smile and say, “I’m-”

“Starfruit,” he finishes with a smirk. “I know.”

You raise your brows in question. His grin only widens, lighting up the dim hallway like the rays of a morning sun. But it doesn’t distract you from wondering why he doesn’t want to know your real name. “I think ‘hope on the screen’ is a bit of a mouth full,” you joke.

He chuckles, looking to the side a bit before turning back to you. “What’s wrong, honey? Not used to having your mouth full?”

You freeze, breath hitching. Goosebumps prickle your skin as you try to settle your ramming heart with sad excuses that brush off his statement to be anything but sexual. However, with just one look at his smug features, you know full well that’s exactly what he meant.

“Not usually by a name, no.”

Lust clouds his eyes. He sets his jaw, gaze hardening. Quirking a brow, he asks, “Is that right?” When you nod, he sighs. “Just Hope will do then.”

“Hopie,” you somewhat slur with a smile.

A little smirk tugs on his lips and he nods. “Sure, Hobi is fine.”

You don’t bother correcting him, liking his version of the name better anyways. For a moment, you both stand inches apart, staring at each other. He then suddenly blinks and clears his throat. Looking down the right side of the hall, he bites his lip and turns back to face you. You pick up on his hint to go your separate ways and nod, walking ahead of him back to your own apartment. You’re convinced this will be your first and last meeting, in which he will call you Starfruit everytime he sees you and you will reply with Hobi and convince yourself that you’re okay with that. However, his footsteps only follow after you.

You make it to your door before turning to face him. He stops an arm’s length away, features clueless and eyes confused.

“Looking for an invite to come in?” you tease, hoping to fluster him.

“You offering one?” he smirks.

Mouth gaping, you look between him and the door. How is it that you’re the one flustered? That was not the plan. Hobi’s smirk only widens. You suddenly wonder if he’s bluffing, that cocky look starting to irritate your wettening core.

You turn to your door, unlock it then push it open. Leaning your back against the doorframe, you reply, “You tell me.”

Hobi swipes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth, eyes darkening once more. “You sure about this, Starfruit?” He asks as he takes a step closer.

“What’s not to be sure about?” You question. “I’m just inviting a neighbour over for a drink. It’s an innocent offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Hobi?”

A low growl tears through his throat before he dips his head and catches your lips in his. You kiss him back with very little hesitance. His lips taste of lemon and cream, sweet and citrusy like he just had dessert. Moaning into his mouth, you hear his mail spill in your apartment somewhere to your left. He then grabs the stack of letters in your hands and repeats the same action, tossing the mail into your apartment.

His hands are free to roam around your body but immediately settle on your ass. Hips pinning you against the doorframe, Hobi grabs handfuls of each asscheek. Groaning and groping, he doesn’t miss a chance to make you wetter than you already feel yourself getting.

You don’t hesitate to get your hands on him either. Clutching onto his shoulders, you chase after his lips as he pulls away. Nudging you back with his nose, Hobi then dips his face in the crook of your neck. His tongue darts out, hot breath fanning over your goosebump prickled skin. Warm and wet, his tongue swirls around your collarbone then up to your jawline. Meanwhile, his greedy hands are working fast to pull your shorts to the side, exposing your panty-less pussy.

You don’t give him a chance to see that, wanting him to feel it instead. You spread your legs and hold his thigh between them. Pressing your clit to his dampening sweatpants, you roll your hips onto his leg.

Hobi stills for a second, only just pulling his face away from yours to watch your body move against his. A giddy grin plays on his lips, his hands returning to your ass to help guide your thrusts against him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his cheek. Never did you think you’d find yourself in this position. Last night, you imagined him fucking you against the wall to get yourself off, but never pictured that wall to be in the hallway. Standing in the middle of your doorway, one foot in the apartment and the other out, the two of you risk being caught in a compromising position by the entire floor. And yet, neither of you seem to care. With his body so close that his heat warms you, you find very little interest in anything else. His racing heart against yours and that excited gleam in his eyes is all you can focus on. He looks a bit happier than he did last night and that alone has you moving your hips a bit faster against him.

“Mhm, honey,” he hums before pressing his lips against your forehead. “Just like that.”

To unknowing eyes, the two of you might look like a long time couple, horny and adventurous in your intimate endeavours just from the way he holds and expresses his interest in you. You even find yourself indulging in that daydream for a second, giving into your delusions and pretending that Hobi is your boyfriend and the two of you are that adventurous couple. Whines leave you as he digs his fingers into your ass. It somewhat pulls you out of that daydream.

His grip then circles around to your hips, stilling your thrusts and holding your against the doorframe. He flashes a cocky smile at your sad mewls from the loss of friction. “Don’t pout,” he whispers. You further draw your bottom lip and test his grip on your hips as you try to continue your movements.

Hobi chuckles darkly, tightening his hold on you. “I know you’re needy, honey,” he purrs. “But if you don’t behave soon, you won’t get to cum at all. Do I make myself clear?” He questions before licking your pout away.

It takes everything in you not to squirm. His voice is enough to make you needy, but his words make you desperate. You nod and pull your bottom lip into your mouth, sucking on the strip of saliva his tongue left behind. Hobi raises a brow at your actions. Gathering some spit in his mouth, he mutters, “pout,” then drops the stringy liquid over your lips. Some of it slides down your chin to your neck but, once he’s done, you part your lips. And as you drink in his saliva, Hobi licks up the trail of spit from your cleavage to your chin. He places a wet kiss to your lips once he reaches them.

Pulling away, he peppers your cheeks with soft kisses while one of his hands tugs the hem of your shorts aside once more. The cool air hits your wet folds. You whine against him and try to fight against the hold on your hips against. The longer he delays getting to your clit, the needier you get.

“Patience, Starfruit,” he mumbles against your cheek.

The soft pad of his thumb brushes up against the short hair upon your pussy a couple of times, filling the pit of your stomach with a growing restless desire to just be filled and fucked. He’s teasing because he can, because he loves the way you squirm against his hold and pout for his tongue. You know this; he knows this. Catching the other’s eye, both of you share a knowing smile.

Holding your gaze, his thumb finally nudges its way between your folds and grazes your swollen bud. You instantly shudder, breasts heaving from the excitement. He smirks, dragging his thumb back and forth on your clit as he watches you slowly come undone.

His head lowers again, lips latching onto your neck. He nibbles and sucks on your skin. You can only tangle your fingers in his hair and moan. As your eyes flutter shut, Hobi fully removes his right hand from your hip, and devotes it to your pussy. He runs two long, slender fingers between your folds, instantly drenching them, and chuckles against your neck, “what’s got you this wet, Starfruit?”

A gasp escapes you as he circles his fingers around your clit. Your mind’s a foggy mess, focused only on his pretty face and how easily his fingers can have you shaking. There’s not much attention spared on anything else, so you answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Eyes hooded, you reply, “Just a little hope.”

He likes it- loves it, fingers slipping into your pussy in an instant. A growl rumbles upon your skin in the process and you can’t fight the shivers that dance along your spine. You whimper his name, resting your forehead on his shoulder. The hand previously holding your hips still wraps around your waist. He’s somewhat cradling you against his chest as his fingers unforgivingly thrust in and out of you. Movements harsh but touches so gentle; Hobi is a god of duality. Just another fact you can’t deny.

Your orgasm knots in the pit of your stomach, only just satisfying that boundless crave for him. His body is all but pressed against yours. Cheek to cheek, your lips are merely inches away from his ear, while his kisses yours. You untangle your fingers from his hair, gently tugging on it as you do just because you can, and you wrap your arms around his shoulder in a tight, desperate embrace. Still, you need more of him, need him closer, so you hook a leg around his waist too.

Hobi growls a chuckle against the shell of your ear as he gives into your silent, needy request and slides his hand from your waist to your ass. He lands a light spank, as if testing your limits, drawing a loud squeal out of you.

“F-fuck,” you whine. “Again?” you ask, pushing your ass back into his hand. “Please! Pl-ease, Hobi.”

He groans, whispering, “Already begging, honey?”

Before you can reply, he spanks you again. The smack is harder, clap louder and you can’t help but match the volume of your moans to it. Your pussy tightens, hips roll uncontrollably against his fingers. You're reaching your peak; the both of you can feel it. Hobi grips onto your ass, and it’s only now that you also realize you’re clinging onto him not just because you want him, but to keep from falling. Your knees have gone weak awhile ago, but you were so enthralled by the pleasure to fully register it.

You’re squealing, screeching your moans against his shoulder with every wet slouch that echoes from your core. “Oh, god! Yes, yes, yes, Hobi! I’m- I’m-”

His little eager chuckles, the kind where his voice rumbles into your ear and echoes within your soul, are the force that push you off the edge… until the door across the hall opens.

Mrs. Jiwoo screams at the pornographic sight in front of her. You quickly shoot a hand to his wrist, holding it still in you the moment you realize you’ve provoked an audience. Though you’ve kept his hand still from the embarrassment your mind’s telling you you’re supposed to have, your hips continue their lifts against his hand. The act of getting caught has you shaking with the wash of a harsh orgasm that you can’t seem to stop yourself. Hobi peppers your face with kisses, unfazed by the interruption as well. Within seconds, you flood his fingers with your release.

The older woman is beside herself. She rushes back into her apartment as you throw your head back and moan a giggle of delight. “When I said during the day, this is not what I meant!” She shouts from the other side of the door.

You don’t care. You can barely even hear her with how powerful your high hits you. Your ears feel as though they’re submerged underwater, mind fogging with light-headedness and body shuddering as it struggles to stay upright.

“You fucking slut,” Hobi seethes, gently sinking his teething into your neck.

You whimper in response, hips jolting in an attempt to escape the overstimulation of his ruthless fingers pushing in and out of you.

“That got you off, huh slut? Getting caught by the neighbours?”

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

The growl that echoes in his chest is enough to make you cum a bit more. And the fact that you know that response wasn’t what he was expecting has a smile playing on your trembling lips. A few strands of his hair fall over his eyes as he scans your face. He looks as though he’s trying to place you, confused by your words and actions. A smile suddenly stretches upon his lips, that tongue of his cockily pushing out.

You can’t quite think straight with his fingers still deep in you, holding still while your hips jolt against his hands. But, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s amused, perhaps even obsessed with the way you discard your inhibitions for him. The reality of the matter is, that if any other partner had wanted you against the doorframe of your apartment, fingering you in the hall for all to see, you wouldn’t have allowed it. But Hobi is different. He provokes recklessness and abandons fears so effortlessly that you can’t help but follow.

Fingers withdrawing from your pussy and into your mouth, Hobi lifts your ass so that your bodies are completely flushed against each other. You suck without much of a command, quietly mewling at the taste of yourself on his fingers. You try to hold his gaze, but his eyes travel to something over your shoulder. He smirks as he guides you inside, the grip on your ass strengthening. Curious as to what’s got him so possessive, you spare a quick glance over your shoulder. Another set of neighbours, Jin and Jimin, stare at the two of you, jaws slack and eyes wide. When you meet their gaze, Jimin quickly looks away, fumbling with his keys then struggling to unlock the door. But Jin only continues to stare, his eyes dropping down to Hobi’s fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass.

An embarrassed squeal escapes you before Hobi pulls your attention away from the guys by curling his fingers in your mouth and tugging your jaw towards him. His eyes darken, face hovering inches away from yours, but all you register is the bulging veins in his neck. Kicking the door close, he whispers, “I don't share, Starfruit.”

Ceasing all sharp suckling and swirls of your tongue, you freeze at his words. His eyes soften and flash with worry, fingers uncurl and withdraw from your mouth. He parts his lips to speak but you only smash yours against his and clutch onto his thick biceps. He kisses back in an instant, cupping the underside of your asscheeks to give them a good shake. He seems to have some sort of infatuation with your ass. His hands have barely wandered far from your backside, as at least one hand has been groping and gripping it. You smirk against his lips and arch your back so that your ass further pushes into his palm. He smacks it, tongue attacking yours all the while.

He breaks the kiss to ask against your lips, “bedroom?”

You moan in response and push him back in the general direction you think your room is in. You don’t realize you’ve terribly misjudged your placement in the room until you push him into the door. He grunts upon impact, pulling his lips from yours with a little laugh. You nervously giggle with him, convinced he’s going to tease you, maybe even open the door again and give all peering eyes an encore, but instead he smiles and leads you down the hall.

Bodies collided, all you can do is move with him, timidly peppering his chin with little kisses. For some reason, you only feel shy in his presence when he’s not overtaken by lust. It makes the interaction more real when he just flashes that bright smile at you and continues to hold you close against him. Lips dragging under his chin, teeth grazing the soft skin, you take a moment to admire his beauty up close. The camera doesn’t do him justice. He glows. Skin, smile, eyes, everything about him gleams, glitters, glistens of beauty. And when lacking a dose of lust, his features shine into something pure. You can’t quite tether the purity to a source, and you aren’t granted the time to as he finds your bedroom.

In mere seconds, that bright sunshine gleam in his eyes flashes into a dark moonlight glow. He’s lust driven, sex crazed. And suddenly you’re no exception. Following his every silent command, you let him shove you onto your bed. You land with a soft grunt, fumbling with your skirt. He’s so eager to be all over you, he doesn’t even take a moment to flick on your lights. No, Hobi has different plans. His infatuation with you and that video seem to go to lengths you didn’t think were possible.

“Turn on those lights from last night,” he orders while making his way over to the curtains and draws them shut.

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

“Why not, Starfruit?”

He must know the effect of using your screen name, must see the way you chew on your lips and absentmindedly puff your breasts out. In that fruity voice of his, he really can coax you in and out of your thoughts.

Hobi pulls his shirt off as he makes his way over to you. Gulping, you take a moment to admire his tan torso. You’ve been thinking about it since his last live, thinking about scratching your nails down his chest then cat-licking the faint marks up. You wonder if he’d let you do that now.

But, as he crawls onto your bed, his eyes flash a silent warning to do as you’re told. You lean back and switch on the twinkling starlights tangled around your room. The quiet room mirrors the production you set up for him last night, once again reflecting the ambiance of a midnight showing. Despite the sunset peachy swirls, Hobi has recreated the set for your video. Actually, with the presence of his grey sweatpants and the little yellow outfit you have on, he has somehow merged your two videos together, transporting the two of you into your own private live stream setting.

“I don’t suppose you’d want me in lace too?” you tease as his lean body hovers over your curves.

He breathes a chuckle, placing a soft kiss over your lips before replying, “I don’t want you in anything at all.”

Your legs have a mind of their own, adjusting apart to give him some room to lay between them. Your trembling breath fans over his lips, hesitant hands rest on his bare shoulders. He picks up on your anxiety and nudges his nose against yours, the cool edge of that hoop piercing refreshing your skin.

Delicately, he whispers, “Lemme know if it’s too much, Starfruit. It’s never too late to change your mind.”

His reassurance is enough to have you arching your body into his. Based on the concern swimming in his eyes, you can tell that he’s waiting for some verbal confirmation. But you, instead, put your mouth into different use. As his tongue reappears to graze the gaps of his teeth, a brow raising in question, you catch it. Hooking your tongue around his, you pull it into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. His eyes widen with every suck, warm breath heating your face as it fans over you. A chuckle or two escapes him as he watches you hold his gaze shamelessly while playing with his tongue in ways you’ve only ever thought of.

Hobi drops to his elbows, arms on either side of your head, and presses his body against yours. The shift of his position further pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your previous sucking fest turns into a wet, sloppy makeout session. He rolls his clothed hips into yours with each swirl of his tongue, groaning as you mewl from the subtle friction.

He seems to be losing patience, breaking the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your tongues, to trail kisses down your neck. You think he’s going to stop in the dip of your collarbone, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leads the sloppy trail of kisses down your cleavage. Before you can even register it, Hobi has his teeth locked on the neckband of your tank top. He pulls it down to expose your breasts. Locking eyes, you find something animalistic swimming within his gaze. Unbounded, uncontrolled, it seems as though every minute spent with you has unleashed yet another layer of primal lust ready to take over every inch of you. Never have you seen such passion in those eyes before, even on his best days, his best lives. You start to wonder if maybe it’s the presence of another that has him all worked up.

Hobi lures you out of your thoughts as he leans back and rests his weight back up on his hands again. Looking down at you, he admires your chest. His eyes bounce between your pierced and bare nipples, as if deciding which one he’s in the mood for. You take a deep breath and arch your back to push your breasts up towards him, urging him to just pick one already and devour you.

A little breathy chuckle escapes him once he picks up on your hints. The pad of his thumb brushes over your pierced nipple. Slow, quiet, steady. He remains still, lost in thought before his eyes find yours again. That primal instinct that was previously unleashed has somewhat tamed itself. A little smile tugs on a corner of his lip, dimples only just visible.

Something endearing lies behind his eyes. Something… pure. You lay flat on the bed again as you stare up at him. Quirking a brow, you silently question his motionless frame. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even seem to notice your subtle change of expression. He simply stares, admires.

“Hobi?”

Your quiet voice lulls him back to you. He blinks, shakes his head then snaps his gaze back down to your chest, that little smile of his widening. Before you can question him again, both his hands cup your breasts. You gasp a moan, pushing your chest up against him again.

Hobi just pushes you back down. He squeezes your tits together then dips his head between them. His wet lips push their way through only to blow and vibrate. He blubbers, babbles, saliva drenching your tits as he shakes his head between them.

Never has a man been so obsessed, memorized by your body enough to motorboat you. Most of the time, your interaction with others lasts shorter than this. But here Hobi lays, shoving his face between your breasts. He’s infatuated with you enough to take his time.

Moaning, rolling your hips up into his, you close your eyes and enjoy his little treat. Your hands slide from his shoulders to his back, hugging him closer to you. You feel that sinful tongue of his dart out again, licking a trail up to your pierced nipple only to envelop it in his mouth. Hands lost in his hair, you push his face further against you. You know full well that he can’t get any closer, but you try anyways.

His teeth graze the silver stud, a quiet clatter of metal on teeth meeting your ears. Hobi looks up at you, holding your gaze, and gently tugs on your hardened nipple. In a pout, you mewl at the sight, the stinging, blissful sensation. A smirk graces his lips when he lets go.

“You sound so fucking cute,” he chuckles, dipping his head to give your nipple a little kiss.

He’s sweet and kind and you want to get lost in his eyes and honey voice. But, with his bulge rubbing against your shorts, all you can think about is how well he’d fit in your mouth. Using your feet, you push his sweatpants down his frame.

Hobi chuckles under his breath before helping you out a bit and kicking his pants off. He dips his head back to your breasts, this time focusing his attention on your bare nipple. He gives it the same treat as the studded one, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mid tug, he trails a hand down your body, resting it upon your drenched center and asks, “when are these coming off?”

“When I get to suck you off.”

Your words leave you fast, unexpectedly. You’ve never been this unaware of yourself, uncomposed. Even in your most submissive moments, you’ve maintained a certain amount of control. However, with Hobi, it’s almost as though all that control becomes his.

He quirks a brow up at you, releasing your nipple. Scanning your features, he judges how serious you are. With your chest heaving and gaze unwavering, he seems to conclude that you really mean it.

“Want me to come up there?”

You fight off a smile and shake your head. Nudging his shoulder, you have him fall beside you, laying on his back. “I’ll come down to you,” you tell him as you sit on your knees and push your shorts off.

Hobi’s brows shoot up at your actions. He chews on his lips, eyes devouring every exposed inch of you. As his hand rests on your ass, gently rubbing it, you let your gaze traill down his chest to his tall, thick cock. It’s bigger than you thought it was. You know he’s big after watching his live streams, but you didn’t think he’d be this massive. Vein laced, precum smeared, pink tipped, his huge cock begs for your attention. You gulp now wondering if he’d fit in your mouth at all.

“You don’t have to,” Hobi whispers. You snap your gaze to his and you can see the concern that swims in his eyes. Is he worried that he won’t fit or that he’ll hurt you?

Licking your lips, you collect any drool about to fall from the sight of his dick and shake your head. “No, I really want to.” Your tone is steady but voice breathless. Pressing your legs together, you can’t fight your need for him any longer. Without much thought, you throw your leg over his chest, straddling his torso as you position yourself in front of his dick.

A gasp meets your wet folds and you freeze for a second, thinking that you may have acted out of pure greed. You’re about to move off him when his hands smack down on your thighs and slide up to your ass. He pushes your plump cheeks up and digs his fingertips into your little dimples. As you cat-lick his precum oozing tip, he runs the bridge of his nose through your folds.

You moan loudly, his bold move provoking you to engulf his tip and then some into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and it’s only now that you realize, with your tongue sliding and looping around him, how thick he really is. It only makes you want more of him.

While you attempt to shove in another inch or two down your throat, Hobi laps his tongue over your pussy, favouring your clit over your entrance. After flicking it with the tip of his tongue, he purses his lips around your clit and sucks harshly.

Through a gag, you moan around his length. Only half of him is lodged in your throat, and you thought you might be ready to take a bit more until he began to focus all his energy on your clit. You shudder against his lips. Closing your eyes, you try to recompose yourself. You have a job to do as well and you know you won't be able to do it right if all you focus on is how well he can work his mouth. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you continue your bobs up and down his length, working your hand on the last few inches you haven’t found the courage to shove in your mouth yet.

Hobi can’t seem to keep his volume down. Every one of your harsh sucks and slurps has him crumbling into more of a moaning mess. Your jaw aches, eyes water but you work through it, living for every moan and groan that vibrates over your needy core. And though he continues to play around with your clit, the sounds you've sucked out of him have sprinkled a bit of hesitance in his approach. His previously sharp licks and suctions over your pussy have somewhat stuttered the faster your bounce your head up and down his length.

He composes himself quicker than you do, however. Tongue poking in and out of your entrance, his thumb slides over to your clit and rubs hard circles around it. You squeal, choking on his cock at the sudden switch. However, that’s not what forces you to pull him out of your mouth. That thumb of his drenches itself in your juices and trails up the curve of your ass to smear your juices all over your asshole. As his mouth returns to your clit, he pushes his thumb into your ass, making you pull his cock out and throw our head back.

You’re so lost in that new wave of pleasure, all attention on his cock falters. You grip onto his thighs and grind your hips into his mouth. Hobi smirks, but he’s not happy with your actions. His free hand comes down on your ass as a silent warning. You want to take it as such but with his thumb moving in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, you can’t find it in you to do anything else but whine and push your weight down on his face.

Hobi growls against your wetness, teeth grazing your bud. Your eyes widen, and a loud moan pours out of you. He breaths a chuckle over your clit all while continuing to nibble on it. Lips still pressed against your aching heat, he questions, “who the fuck told you to stop?”

You wrap a hand back around cock, pumping him at a fast pace. Still, Hobi doesn’t think it’s enough. He withdraws his thumb from your ass and takes to fingering your instead. With two fingers thrusting in and out of you again, his mouth is free to latch onto your asshole. He licks and pokes his tongue in and out your tiniest hole while your body shakes over his.

“Suck my dick, slut,” he orders with a growl, spanking you just to grab and grope you all over again.

You don’t dare disobey a direct order. Wrapping your lips around his length, you immediately pick up where you left off and shove his thick cock down your throat. Ignoring every gag instinct, every urge to pull him out and take a proper breath before taking him in again. But, when he’s shaking his face between your cheeks, swirling his tongue around your hole and pushing his fingers in and out of you at an incomprehensible pace, you can’t focus, let alone think, about anything else. His cock falls out of your mouth once more. You don’t want to disappoint him, but how can he expect you to do anything when he’s making you feel so good?

“Oh my god!” You scream. Sitting up on his face, you all but force him to take his fingers out of you and relatch his lips over your folds once more. You ride his face as your orgasm nears, a variety of curses pouring out of you in desperate moans. “Ahh, fuck yes! H-Hobi!”

He groans in response, smacking his pussy slick hands over your ass. He grips onto your supple flesh, pushing your ass up to get a better hold on your pussy.

Your hips jolt over his mouth, eyes roll back. There’s not much more you can take. Body quaking, you warn, “I’m go-nna cum!”

“Do it!” Hobi rasps, sounding hungry and deprived.

Your jaw falls open, high pitched moans tumbling out as your release gushes into his mouth. Hobi flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. You circle your hips around his face, mewling and whining as you grind out your orgasm. Hearing Hobi’s slurps and laps over your pussy only makes your body shudder and jolt all the more.

His mouth suddenly escapes your needy hips. You huff a whine, looking over your shoulder at him. Hobi has his jaw pushed out and lips purses like he’s holding onto something in his mouth. You furrow your brows, about to question him when he pushes your body into the bed between his legs.

Sitting up, Hobi leers over your ass while you’re left in suspense with your face buried in the sheets. He pulls your cheeks apart and drops a warm, thick dollop of saliva mixed cum. He uses his forefinger to rub it around your hole, catching any leaking streaks that rush back to your pussy. You shudder as a string of mewls muffles into the bed.

“Where’s your vibrator?”

You turn your head to the side, smushing your cheek into the mattress instead and ask, “Which one?”

Hobi chuckles at your words. As he pushes his finger into your ass, he replies, “How many do you have?”

Gasping from the blissful sensation, you try to focus on the question. You only really have two. The yellow star-shaped one and that dildo you use when you really need a good fucking. But judging by the tone of his voice, he seems to be expecting a lot. You chew on your lip and debate on inflating that number. But what will you do if he asks to see them all?

“I-I’m not sure.”

“Take a guess.”

You pause. Balling the sheets into your hands, you swallow thickly. You know you should just be honest, but after that mediocre blow-job, you don’t think you can handle disappointing him any further. Still, it’s better and safer to tell the truth. Besides, you know full well that you can’t lie to him. It would break your heart more than his.

“Just two,” you finally reply. “They’re at the table by the bed, first drawer.”

Hobi places a sweet kiss on each cheek before he shifts a bit behind you. The drawer opens and closes, Hobi shifting back in place again. “Is there something wrong with having just two?” He asks as he runs the curved edges of the star vibrator up and down your folds.

Your pussy quivers at the sensation, hips greedily grinding against it. So needy for more, one would think you didn’t just cum a minute ago. “You tell me,” you whisper. After swallowing your moans, you ask, “Doesn’t two seem innocent?”

The toy stops mid stroke and you stiffen up with it. Maybe you’ve taken the comment too far, but you can’t deny the gnawing voice in your heart telling you he’s just here for a quick fuck. You’ve raised your hopes up too high, romanticized him too often not to take what he had said to heart. Chewing on your lip, you wonder if you should apologize for your tone and suggest to just continue all this without another word. You’re about to voice your idea when you feel his lips on your curves of your ass again, the wet toy moving once more.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little innocence, Starfruit,” he mutters against your cheek. Trailing that toy up to your asshole, he grazes his teeth over your cheek and says, “It’s what makes you so sweet.”

As his teeth nibble on your skin, you quietly whine into the bed. Hobi holds you in place as you squirm, sensing your impatience to be played with again. “Deep breath,” he mutters against the curve of your ass.

You inhale deeply and brace yourself for what you think might be coming next. Hearing your intake, and catching the way your shoulders rise, Hobi pushes the wet toy into your tight hole. There’s a bit of resistance, as you're not used to more than two fingers in there usually. However, the toy enters just fine. It stretches you so fucking well, making your left eye twitch the way it always does when you’ve reached pure bliss.

“Besides,” Hobi suddenly continues. He shifts under you again, reaching back into the drawer. “You’re hardly innocent around me.”

The star buzzes to life in you. You gasp and sit up as your body shudders from the sudden jolt of pleasure. From your new position, you feel his tip poke at your clit and you can’t stop the squeal that escapes you then. Hobi wraps his arms around your waist, kissing the curve of your spine and igniting your lust frenzied nerves.

“I gotta be in you, honey,” he mutters between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

With a chuckle, Hobi nuzzles his face into your back. The gesture is so sincere, so casual that for a second you let yourself believe this is a usual occurrence. You let yourself believe that you and Hobi always find each other like this because you’re dating. You let yourself indulge in the fantasy that you belong to Hobi and he belongs to you. The second comes and goes, but you’re still left with his warm breath fanning on your back and sweet kisses trailing up your spine.

Hobi lifts your leg, muttering, “Under mine.” He positions both calves under his thigh and sits you on his lower stomach. His hands retreat off your body and you shiver from the loss of warmth his touch always brings.

You look over your shoulder, curious, and find him lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He’s eyes lock on your ass. He admires it, studies it’s curves and the way it sits on his abdomen. Meeting your gaze, Hobi smirks.

“Make it clap for me.”

The request has you breathless. It sparks the memory of your question all those moments ago, before things go so hot and heavy. How many times? How many times did he watch that video?

With a shy smile, you turn back around and lean forward, resting your hands on the mattress between his legs. You take a deep breath then shake your ass, the claps subsequently following. Hobi groans behind you. You moan in response. The slow buzzes of the vibrator only heighten the act of shaking your ass over his abs.

With that extra little treat for you, you feel a bit guilty. He’d been showering you with attention and affection. He’s made you cum twice already and all you’ve offered was a sloppy blowjob you couldn’t even follow through with. You want to give him that little extra bit of attention he never forgets to offer you. Ceasing you movements for a second, earning a light spank to continue, you lift your hips.

“I don’t remember you asking for my cock, Starfruit.” His tone is heavy with authority. It only makes it harder to ignore him. “And I sure as hell don’t remember telling you to stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass. This one is harder, stronger and you whimper at the warning. You can’t bear to ignore him any longer, knowing his patience will soon run out. “I just wanted to try something, Hobi.”

He grunts, but doesn’t say much more. You take this as approval to continue and sit your ass just before his cock, pussy resting on his heavy balls. His hands find your hips again, but they don’t grope you like they usually do. Instead, they simply rest there. You interpret this as a precautionary measure, in case you try anything without permission again.

“Do you wanna watch it clap?”

Hobi hums in reponses, thumbs gently rubbing your skin. Leaning forward again, you push your ass back so his cock slips between your cheeks. The gasp that escapes him fills your chest with pride. A smile plays on your lips and you shake your ass once more, cheeks now clapping around his length.

“Innocent, my ass,” you giggle.

Hobi fills the room with that dark chuckle of his. You can hear the amusement of the joke and pleasure of the display from the tone of his voice. He smacks his hands down on your cheeks, helping them move fast around his cock.

“Fucking slut,” he hisses as he tightens his grip. His hips suddenly jolt upwards causing you to almost fall over his lap. Hobi catches you before you slip off his lap, however, and holds you back in place.

He huffs and hisses, moans and groans. You’re sure he’s about to cum, can even feel his cock twitching, but he stops you just before he lets himself go. “I just need to be inside you.”

The desperation in his voice has you giggling. Hobi spanks the laughter out of you, grumbling, “Behave or you won’t cum for the rest of the night.”

You bite back a whine. Shyly looking over your shoulder, you find that wild urge resurface in his gaze again. He must’ve been really close to cumming. Hobi catches your gaze, a wicked smirk tugging on his lips. He reaches for the vibrator’s remote and turns the intensity up. You whimper and pull on the sheets in front of you.

Lifting your hips, you nod at his warning and turn back around. You are met with your reflection from the full-length mirror by your closet. It’s parallel to your bed so you can see yourself sink down on Hobi’s massive cock and watch as well as feel your pussy stretch so fucking well from his girth. “H-Hobi,” you squeal as he guides your hips further down his shaft.

“Hoseok,” he corrects.

You cease all movement, already halfway down his length. The vibrator is still humming loudly in you, only just distracting you from what you’ve just heard. Did he just tell you his real name? He’d been so adamant on keeping it to himself, even refusing to know yours. Yet, here he lies. With his hands secured on your hips and cock ruining you for all other men, perhaps even toys, he tells you his name.

“Is it too much?” He suddenly asks while adjusting his hold on your hips.

You shake your head, breathlessly muttering, “No, it’s perfect.”

It’s not until he’s guiding you back down on him do you realize he was talking about his cock. You suck in a breath and wait until you’ve completely taken in him before whimpering your name. He grips onto your hips tighter and growls. The reaction is enough to fill you with worry. You fear he may not have wanted to know your name, that he only wanted you to scream his.

“(Y/N)”

His moans carry on as you circle your hips around his cock. Each syllable of your name sounds more desperate and greedy than the last. And when you finally switch to bouncing, ass clapping down on his thighs in loud smacks, he growls your name. Over and over again, you’re dripping off the tip of his tongue. All he thinks about is you, all he says is you, all he sees is you.

Ass in bliss, pussy in pleasure, your body meets heaven and your mind overflows with everything Hoseok. You can’t get enough of him or the way he utters your name in that fruity, lively voice of his.

You think this is all the pleasure you need when he sits himself up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand sliding down from your hips to rub your clit while the other slides up. You catch his gaze in the reflection and offer a shy smile before you feel him yank your tank top down once more and expose your breasts.

Bouncing uncontrollably, your tits are all his attention can focus on now. He doesn’t even make a move to grope one of them, too consumed by the way they move to disturb their rhythm. The mere sight of him continuously being mesmerized by you only brings you closer to your high. Your pussy tightens around him again and you can’t ignore the twitch of his cock this time. You giggle at his reflection, drawing his attention away from your tits.

“You’re ready to cum again, Starfruit?”

The smirk he wears is just as deadly as the size of his cock.

You crumble beneath it, whimpering a tiny, “Yes, please, Hobi.”

He kisses your shoulder and nods, as if giving you the approval to cum whenever. Your eyes roll back, moans intensify and body seems to be losing all composure for the third time tonight. You screw your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm nearing but Hoseok replaces his kisses for a little bite on your shoulder. Gasping a moan, you snap your eyes open and meet his gaze once more.

“Look at me,” he orders in a hushed tone. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

You expected to find that untamed animalistic look in his eyes, or maybe even a barrier of distance to remind you that this is just a one time thing. Instead, you find affection. Within those lust-blown pupils, you find that glowing sunshine-like sparkle of sincerity.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

Just like that, while holding his gaze and getting lost in his eyes, your ograsm overtakes the entirety of your body. Grounding your ass into hips, you shudder, whimper and tear your sheets out from under his legs. You’ve lost the ability to hold that honest gaze of his and completely shatter from the force of your orgasm. Mind whirling, ears ringing, you feel like the wind has got knocked out of you too. Seeing stars, you can’t think straight. All you can feel is him.

And while you’re losing yourself, gushing and convulsing all over him, Hoseok continues to rub harsh circles around your clit and rolls his hips up into yours. He further gets himself off all while helping you ride out your high as well. He groans in your ear as it rings and finally takes to groping your breast again. He grabs at anything, wanting to feel all of you as his dick twitches once more. With your warm cum coating his cock, Hoseok can’t hold himself back any longer. He locks his arms around your waist, holds you still over his hips and releases a heavy load of his cum.

“(Y/N)” he growls as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

You lean your head back against his shoulder. Eyes closed, mouth pouring moans, you revel in the ropes of cum he shoots in you. He fills you up all too well that you know you’ll cry if this is a first and last time occurrence. Your pussy quivers from the nonstop friction, that vibrator in your ass not doing you any favours to slow the process of overstimulation. You tell yourself that the moment Hoseok is done, you’re going to demand that he take that vibrator out and give you a moment to collect yourself before even thinking about another round.

But then he nuzzles his face into your skin and you melt into his frame. You feel him inhale your scent and smile against you. Biting your lip, you force yourself to endure another moment or two of overstimulation if it means he can stay this happy for a little bit longer.

“Ah, shit,” he suddenly mutters into the nape of your neck. “You alright, honey?”

You open your eyes and find him staring at your fucked out reflection with a look of concern. Meekly, you nod but he doesn’t buy it. He unwraps his arms around you and pushes your body forward. You whine and whimper, wanting to fight against it since that angle seems to give a whole new wave of pleasure you’re certain you cannot handle right now.

“Bend over, honey,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”

You moan out of frustration, your ass starting to become just as sensitive to the touch as your pussy is. Still, you know you can trust him, and bend over. “Careful.”

Hoseok kisses your asscheek and mutters, “always,” before gently tugging on the yellow rubber line to pull the star out. He sighs at whatever sight rests in front of him, but you’re all too consumed with recovering from such a hard orgasm. The ringing in your ears has barely stopped and you keep telling yourself that if you keep taking deep breaths you just might be about to settle your heart down and regain your sense of sound.

The buzzing suddenly ceases, a little clatter on your night table momentarily filling the silence. Hoseok then slowly pushes your hips off his softening cock, rubbing your ass in hopes of soothing all those little mewls that leave you.

He then gasps and you can already tell that you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next.

“I know you’re sensitive,” he starts. You whine, already knowing where this is leading. “But, you need to get cleaned up somehow.”

You shudder and grip onto the sheets as a precaution. The ringing in your ears has somewhat settled, but you don’t get comfortable with that fact just yet. After a long whine, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Hoseok breaths a chuckle and you hear him pat a spot next to him. Heaving, you look over your shoulder at the vacant space beside him. You sigh and crawl over there, lying on your back and spreading your legs immediately. Hoseok runs a hands down your torso, watching as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. The two of you work around each other like this is a nightly routine, and you’re not mad about that.

Once you’re settled, he positions himself between your legs and dips his head down to your pussy. You close your legs around his face in an instant, the sensitivity being too much to handle too soon. Hoseok doesn’t care; he works through it. He laps and licks up every part of your mixed cum. Soon, however, his hands get a hold of your thighs and he pulls them apart. He shakes his head as he devours your pussy once more and you find yourself having to tug on his hair to get him off you.

“Hoseok, pl-please!” You whine, attempting to close your legs once more.

Unlatching his lips from your overstimulated pussy with a little wet pop, he sits up and smirks down at your fucked out state. You bring your legs together, cross your ankles and pull your knees into your chest as the last remnants of your orgasm shudders through you.

The bed dips beside you. Hoseok makes himself comfortable. He lies next to you, chest heaving and eyes locked on the ceiling. And once you feel your orgasm finally pass through, you unfold yourself. Your nakedness has never been more apparent to you until now. With lustful desires trickling away, all that remains is the bareness of your bodies and the hovering reality of your emotions.

You shift your weight and pull your comforter over your curves, quickly shielding yourself before he can look over and get another look at you. You freeze all over when he spares you a glance, curious as to what you’re doing. It’s like you didn't just spend the better part of an hour or so screaming his name.

Hoseok smirks, gaze wandering down your covered frame anyways. His eyes don’t need to undress you, knowing exactly what you look like from what angle, yet they still do. He finds your gaze again, breath stabilizing, and mimics your actions. Shifting to get under the sheets, Hoseok asks, “Are you okay?”

The question stunts you. Actually, the fact that he’s still here and not halfway through getting dressed stunts you. You can only stare at him for a moment, your ears regaining full ability and chest ceasing its full rises and falls.

He furrows his brows. Taking your silence as avoidance from the truth, he says, “You can tell me if I hurt you. I’m sorr-”

“Aren’t you leaving?” Your question sounds colder than intended. And the fact that you cut him off to ask it, is not doing you any favours.

Hoseok can only stare back at you, speechless. He chews on his lip and scoffs a dry sigh before you quickly correct your intentions.

“Not that I want you to leave.” A brow of his quirks in interest. “It’s just… I thought that’s what you’d want to do.”

He must see the fear in your eyes, must hear the earnest plea to stay in your voice as he shifts closer to you and tucks an arm under your head. You scoot closer to him too, sweaty bodies colliding once more. Your arms draped over the other’s waist, you pull each other closer. His breath fans over your hot face and you slowly trail your gaze up from his neck to his eyes.

Lips less than an inch apart, Hoseok mutters, “If it’s up to me, neither one of us would ever leave.” He nudges your nose with his, brushing that hoop piercing against your skin.

Your hand slides up to his face, caressing his cheek while your thumb rubs his chin. You want to tell him you feel the same way, that you’d want to be in any moment as long as he’s there with you. But, he seems to read that in your eyes, in the way you hold his gaze shamelessly and flash that shy smile.

Your lips are so close now, you’re exchanging breaths, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. Instead he whispers, “Thirteen.”

You knit your brows as confusion riddles your face.

“You asked how many times I’ve watched your video; thirteen.”

Thirteen. Your mind struggles to comprehend that reality, eyes searching his face for signs of dishonesty. You only find genuineness and a hint of admiration in his eyes and the way he says, “Starfruit; (Y/N).”

“You couldn’t have gotten off that many times,” you scoff.

“I didn’t.”

Your nerves jolt into another heartwarming frenzy as your body freezes over with realization. It’s never been about just sex, it’s never been about cameras and live streams. It’s only ever been about finding the one on the screen, finding the hope you’ve been searching for every time either one of you logs on and scrolls through comments.

“I just came back from an errand. Jin wanted cake and Jimin was too tired to get out.” He suddenly starts, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pause for a moment, realizing that Jin and Jimin have a third roommate. “I was about to go inside when I saw you walk out of your apartment. I honestly couldn’t believe it was you. But I knew it the moment I saw those yellow shorts.”

Your breath hitches and he smiles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You walked so fast,” he chuckles. “And by the time I figured out what I wanted to say, you were already on the elevator. I was honestly about to just go back inside and forget the entire thing. I even opened the door. I couldn’t go in, though. I just needed to see you one last time.”

He pauses to press a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. You flutter your eyes shut, melting into his existence. He continues, “I ran down the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. When I saw you checking the mail, I'm not sure what came over me. I pretended to be doing the same thing. I didn’t think you’d be that embarrassed about the video.”

Slowly, you open your eyes and meet his apologetic gaze. Heart swooning, you let out a shaky breath and confess in a quiet mutter, “I don’t want to be a camgirl.”

“What?”

“I sent you that video because I wanted you to notice me again. And you’ve been looking so sad and tired during your lives, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit.”

Hoseok stares, brows knitted, lips parted. You open your mouth to apologize when he presses his lips to yours, engulfing you in a whirlwind of soft gold emotions. You drink in every breath, curling your tongue around his.

“I lied about you being innocent.”

You blink.

“Well, you are innocent but that’s not the reason why I told you not to live stream. I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not very happy with the idea of sharing you either.”

“I really like your ass.”

You pause. Your war of confessions hovers over your tangled bodies but all you can do is laugh at his words. He can’t hold back the laughter bubbling from his chest either, and you feel the sweet rumble of his chuckles before you hear them. He gingerly leans in for another kiss but it seems to be more teeth than lips as you two try to laugh through the kiss.

The hand resting on your waist trails down to your ass, rubbing gentle circles around it as your laughter trickles out. You kiss him again, properly and with little tongue so you can focus on the way his lips move against yours.

When he pulls away, he shares his last confession. “I hate streaming.”

You bite back a gasp, chewing on your lips. He takes this as a sign to continue. “I mean, I used to love it. It just seems like more work than it’s worth now. And I want moments like this more often.”

“You’re quitting,” you whisper in realization.

He nods.

You hum, nodding along as everything begins to make sense. You conclude that he must’ve felt this way for a while and that’s why there was a sudden shift in his demeanour.

Pushing his hair back, you softly kiss his cheek and mutter against his skin, “I started watching for Hobi. But, I sent that video to Hoseok.”

Bodies flushed, Hoseok shudders against you. Eyes flutter shut, hearts beat in sync, and as you drift further into this daydream, you hear the lingering words he breathes into your hair.

“You’re an angel, (Y/N). Sweeter than Starfruit.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtanfairygarden #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #btsguild #bangtanhq #btsgoldnet #houseofddaeng #jhope smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok smut #hoseok smut #hobi smut #jhope x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #magicshopnet

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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago

Text

In the Stars (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request: So, first of all, I love your writing so much. I've just finished reading "In the stars" and I've loved it! Idk if you're taking requests but I was wondering if maybe you could do a part 2?

A/N: You guys… I had so many fucking requests for part two of this, I love you. I'm honestly overwhelmed by how much you guys engage with my work on here.

Side note; I don't actually know much about astrology so take anything I say with a pinch of salt since it's done with surface level research for this. I'm more of a tarot girl myself and originally I was gonna switch the astrology to tarot since I know all about that. But I didn't wanna deviate from the request too much so I stuck with astrology.

Warnings: cursing, bit of fluff, idk flirting? Talk of sex but no actual sex?

If you guys want a part three to this which would mostly be smut then hit me up lmaoooo

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You were lounging on a beat up sofa that was in the greenhouse at the back of the flower shop. The plants were watered and it was a nice day. You were taking a moment to relax and let the sun come through the glass above you like a cat basking in the warm glow. You knew a customer had come in a little bit a go. You'd heard a gruff voice ask Gemma for advice on flowers for his girl. But since you were never needed in the front, you just chilled out for a bit after popping some headphones in and vibing in the sun as you leisurely scrolled on an astrology site you were on.

Maybe, just maybe, you'd been thinking about Mr Fancy Coffee man in the past three days since you ran right into him. You'd been sure you'd see him again at the time but it hadn't happened so far. Either way, you kept thinking back to his smile and his obsidian eyes and you smirked as you read what you'd already known when you'd called back after him to give him your own sign.

'Aries and Scorpio Sex:

Aries and Scorpio like to turn the heat up with everything they do! So, you can imagine the bedroom as being one feisty! Aries is a fire sign, and Scorpio is a water sign. Mix fire and water and what do you get? Yes, it is steam! With this duo between the sheets, we pray the wallpaper can withstand the steam-effect! Aries and Scorpio are the same when it comes to an intense libido. They are energetic with enough energy to keep each other up all night long.'

You ripped your headphones out, tossing your phone on the worn out faded pink cushions as you bounded to the door to the main shop.

"Hey, Gem! Did you know that Aries and Scorpio are like hella compatible for sex? I mean we'd just be riding each other all ni-" your words died on your lips as you slipped through the beaded curtain to find the man from earlier who hadn't actually left yet. He was a little rough looking but he wore a look of shock and thorough amusement at your words as you smacked a hand over your mouth with a laugh. It wasn't really appropriate talk in front of a customer but even Gemma bit her lip to stifle her incredulous laughter.

"I uh… I'm sorry," you murmured, a sly smirk on your face that said you weren't really sorry but said it anyway to be polite. He barked out a laugh and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. Sounds like a hell of a time," he replied with a chuckle. It put you at ease that he wasn't going to start something about your behaviour, threaten to take his business elsewhere. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done that.

"Don't mind her. She's the crazy plant lady," Gemma grinned as she continued adding flowers to the bouquet on the counter. Some pretty forget-me-nots.

"Hey! I'm not crazy just because I talk and sing to them. It's science! If I didn't do that then all these beauties would be withering away in misery," you pouted playfully, earning another laugh from your best friend and chuckle from the man.

You looked at him then and he was already looking at you. His gaze wandered your face and hair like you held the secrets to the universe and you quirked a brow curiously. Knowing he was caught out, he glanced away and cleared his throat but his eyes flit back to you. It wasn't like you weren't used to looks since you were anything but ordinary, but he looked almost like he knew you or something.

"Sorry… just… thought I recognised you," he muttered apologetically.

"Oh trust me, you'd know if you'd met her before. She leaves quite the impression," Gemma snorted.

"I bet she does," the man said with a small smile as he looked at you again like he knew something you didn't. Or maybe you were imagining it.

You grinned as you walked towards the counter, leaning your arms on it as you admired her work. The bouquet was filled with purples and blues and it was breathtaking.

"Serious relationship?" You asked casually. The man looked slightly taken aback by your bold question and Gemma swatted your arm as you gave her a look.

"What?" You asked with a huff. The man smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It is. Been together for a little over a year now," he had a lovesick look on his face and you found yourself smiling back at him.

"You love her?" You asked softly. He rubbed the scruff on his chin with a bashful look that looked at odds with the rest of him as he nodded.

"That I do," he murmured fondly.

You pushed up and leaned your hands on the counter as you glanced from the flowers back to him.

"You should get her a succulent," you declared. Gemma snorted again as she trimmed the ends off some roses and the man quirked his brow.

"You mean like… a cactus or some shit?" He asked, sounding confused and amused.

You rolled your eyes, whizzing into the back and grabbing a small terracotta pot with a baby succulent in it. It looked almost like a flower with how it's leaves were arranged. You bought it back out to the front and back to him as you set it down on the counter.

"Meet Emily. She's cute and sweet and she says forever," you shot him a cheeky grin and he snorted, eyes darting from the plant to you.

"I'm sorry… Emily?" He asked with a smirk

"Hey, she's a living thing like you and me, why shouldn't she have a name? And don't tell the others but… she's my favourite," you whispered the last part, eyes darting to the beaded curtain like you didn't want the others to hear and when you looked back at him he was smiling and shaking his head at you.

"Look… flowers are great and all, a nice gesture and pretty to look at, but they wither and die. They go from pretty to morbid which is why they're great for special occasions but they don't last. But these cuties… they don't take much maintenance, it's hard to kill them and they're more… permanent. Flowers are a great way to say 'I love you' in a shorter sense, but nothing says 'I'll love you forever' more than one of these," you mused with a fond look at the plant.

The man stared at the plant for a moment appearing deep in thought and when you glanced to Gemma, she was grinning from ear to ear as she wrapped up the arrangement in pretty pale purple paper. A similar shade to your current hair color.

"Fuck it. I'll take… Emily, too," he declared after a moment. You beamed and slid the pot over to Gemma so she could pack her up with the rest of the goods and ring him up.

"You're good at this," the man said after a moment. You flushed a little at his words and snorted.

"I just care about the plants," you shrugged with a smile.

Gemma finished the wrapping and started ringing up the purchases as the man's eyes darted between you both.

"So… you two ladies got any plans later?" He asked casually. He didn't seem the type to make unnecessary small talk but Gemma opened her mouth to indulge him anyway.

"A few of us are going out later to the bar down the street. The Lizard? It's not been open that long but it's pretty chill. It's nothing fancy though," Gemma smiled softly as she accepted the money from him, opening the register.

"Fancy places wouldn't let us in," you snorted with a smirk, toying with one of the many rings on your fingers.

"They wouldn't let you in. Besides, they have good music there and they don't mind when we let loose and get a little weird," Gemma laughed. The man chuckled with a nod before glancing back at you. He still had that look of recognition in his eyes and you tried to think if you'd ever seen him before.

"Sounds like my kinda place. I might have to go with Karen and some friends sometime," he mused with a nod.

"You should, if you run into us let me know if she loves Emily. You've basically both adopted a cute earthy child so…" you grinned mischievously. He snorted, seemingly unaffected by you being yourself and you liked it. It wasn't often you got to talk to customers like this which is why you often stayed hidden in the back.

"I will. Have fun ladies and thanks for these," with that he was off and you and Gemma grinned at each other. It was nice to have a customer like that man, even if he did look completely out of place in a flower shop. You had a feeling he'd come back for more things for this Karen woman he was smitten with.

---------

Billy sipped his beer, dark gaze flitting around the bar before he settled on his best friend. Karen was leaning on his shoulder and the pair had been nauseatingly close since they got here. Curtis and David were also at the table relaxing and talking to one another.

"Is there a reason we're here?" Billy drawled as he sat back in his chair a little more. This wasn't their usual haunt and they didn't normally deviate from it. It wasn't so much that he didn't like the place. It was relaxed and quite similar to where they usually ended up. But it was a break in routine and he wasn't sure why.

Frank shot him a sly smirk as he sipped his beer and it made Billy narrow his eyes a little.

"Well… I have it on good authority that little Ms Aries is gonna be here," he said smugly. Billy hated himself the moment he sat up straighter like an eager schoolgirl, especially when his friends all cheered and laughed at the news. He'd only told Frank about her, but Frank being Frank… well he'd told Karen and Karen told Curtis and David and in three short days it had become a running joke that he was hung up on a girl he hadn't even been able to get the name of.

Billy tilted his head, long fingers tapping on the beer bottle as he levelled his gaze at Frank.

"And how would you know that when we don't even know who she is?" He asked with a raised brow. Frank had a shit eating grin on his face as he leaned forward on the table a bit.

"Because I found her at her work earlier," he grinned. Billy blinked at him for a moment, mouth floundering as he tried to absorb that tidbit.

"Okay… so as my best friend and therefore wingman, is there a reason you didn't mention it until now?" He asked dryly.

"Nah, I thought it would be a nice surprise and I didn't want you to talk yourself outta comin' here. Never seen you hung up on a girl before and I gotta say, she's a fuckin' riot," Frank snorted. Billy felt an unnecessary pang of envy at him then. Envy that his best friend managed to find her, spend some time with her maybe more than he had in the street. He knew it was stupid. His best friend was head over heels for Karen after all, but it was there all the same.

"She works at the flower shop," Karen supplied with a soft smile as she looped her arms around Frank's larger one. Great, so Frank told her before he told him. Did everyone but him know? Why he was feeling like a petulant child, he didn't know, but before he could open his mouth to no doubt say something ridiculous, Frank's sly grin widened as he inclined his head to the door.

Billy would lie until the day he took his last breath about how fast his head whipped to the door. He almost broke his damn neck. But there she was in all her purple haired glory and Jesus fuck was she the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. How did she get even more attractive in three days? Shit was ridiculous. But not as ridiculous at the nerves that bloomed in his belly at the sight of her. He was Billy Russo. Ex Spec Ops sniper. Former marine. CEO of Anvil. Serial womaniser. But now he was just Billy. Dumbfounded, actually kind of nervous and moon-eyed Billy.

He watched as she and another girl she came in with walked over to the table with a few people and hugged them. Her smile was radiant and his eye twitched when she hugged the guys at her table. He kept waiting like she'd lean in and kiss one of them. To feel that crushing blow. But it never happened. In fact, the girl she'd come in with snuggled up to the one of the guys and the other had his arm wrapped around another girl at the table.

"Well… you gonna go and get her name or what, Bill?" Frank asked with a snort. Billy cleared his throat, rolling his shoulder and glancing back to his beer before he shrugged.

"After my drink," he tried to sound casual but Frank's gaze softened a little and he hated that his best friend knew him better than anyone. He was just thankful Frank didn't call him out for it.

---------

You and Gemma had gotten to the bar a little later than usual because Gemma's cat snuck out the apartment and you'd had to hunt him down. He was cute but a menace but once he was back safe at home you'd both made a beeline for the bar. You had a few shots in quick succession to make up for the lost time and you weren't drunk but you felt the pleasant warmth spreading through you as you laughed and joked with your friends.

"Oh, I love this song, dance with me," you beamed, not giving Gemma a chance to protest as you grabbed her hand and moved a little from the table. It wasn't a club and there wasn't a dance floor but there was adequate space between the tables to dance. No one else was dancing but it was hardly the first time you and Gemma did this. It was always fun and amusing.

You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and hers went around your waist as the pair of you giggled and swayed your hips. There were a few cat calls but it was all in jest. It was obvious you two were joking around by your over exaggerated movements and Gemma singing loudly and very off key, with your friends joining in the chorus. You loved your group of little weirdos.

You turned around in her arms, hands still around her neck from behind as you swung your hips, eyes closed and a smile on your face. But when you opened them, they landed right on Mr Handsome himself who was at a table with some others and he was staring at you with wide eyes and a small smile. A grin spread across your face as you continued to dance. You knew you'd see him again. You paid little attention to anyone else as your eyes locked with his and he sat up a little straighter as he noticed he had your attention.

You smirked, flashing him a cheeky wink as a call back to when you last met before you spun back around to face Gemma.

"So… the super hot guy over there in a maroon sweater? Looks like he's stepped right off of vogue? He's Coffee guy," you murmured giddily. Gemma didn't even hide the look she shot him before she laughed and looked back at you.

"First of all… wow. And second, he's like legit staring at you so hard right now," Gemma smirked.

You bit your lip with a smile as the song ended. Gemma gave you a hug before returning to her seat and then you made your way over to the bar and waited for the bartender so you could grab a beer.

"Can I get you a drink, astrology girl?" His smooth voice sent a shiver down your spine and you glanced over to where he was now standing next to you.

"Of course. Beer please, Coffee boy," you grinned cheekily at him. He chuckled, ducking his head as he waved over the bartender and asked for two beers.

"I told you we'd meet again," you murmured with a smirk, sipping the beer once it was placed in front of you.

"You did. Although I think my friend Frank had somethin' to do with that," he replied with a smile as he glanced over his shoulder. You followed his gaze to his table and saw the man from the flower shop. Your eyes widened as an incredulous laugh left your lips and you gave him a thumbs up. You heard his laugh from across the bar. The woman with him was smiling wide and also watching you both, as were the other two men at his table. You had a feeling if you glanced over at your own friends they'd be doing the same thing.

"So… do I get your name yet?" He asked, leaning his forearms on the bar. His shoulder brushed yours and it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through you. You glanced at him, a coy smile on your lips as you took another sip of beer. Your tongue darted out and swiped over your lower lip to catch a drop and you didn't miss how his dark eyes were drawn to the motion. It made your stomach clench.

"Y/N," you smiled softly. You couldn't help it, you'd have given him anything he asked right then with the way he was looking at you. His face brightened when you relinquished your name, his eyes crinkling a little as he grinned. His teeth are perfect. I want him to bite every inch of me with those things.

"Billy," he offered, raising his beer bottle. You grinned as you clinked yours with his and you both took a drink.

"I read some pretty interesting things about the sexual compatibility of an Aries and Scorpio," you murmured with a wry grin, nibbling your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes. He was so close to you and you could feel his warmth through the layers of both of your clothes. And he smelt good. It almost made you dizzy.

"Is that so?" He asked, dark eyes intent on you and only you. His voice was lower than before and you fought the urge to jump him right there. You flashed him a toothy grin, a mix of flirtatious and just plain impish that made him smile.

"Apparently we're a match made in sexual heaven," you teased softly.

You watched as he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. His almost black eyes felt like they were setting you on fire from the inside out with how heated his gaze was.

"Well now I gotta problem. Because I wanted to ask you on a date first but you're makin' it really hard for me to have any restraint," he purred. Shiiiiit. That tone alone would have you needing to change your panties when you got home.

You smirked, all sinful as you leaned into his ear, your hand going to his firm forearm. You heard his breathing hitch before you even said anything as your hot breath landed on his ear.

"I'd really like that date," you whispered with a saccharine smile. Honestly, you weren't known for your patience and you wanted nothing more than to drag him back to your place and fuck him until neither of you could walk again. But the idea of a date, of dragging it out a bit, it intrigued you. The man had lived rent free in your brain since you both collided three days ago and as much as it would kill you, you knew the wait would be worth it and only make it better.

You moved back a bit, your face still ridiculously close to his and he flashed you a devilish smile all of his own before he leaned down and kissed you. It was an intense kiss. Full of hunger and passion you'd never felt before and you didn't hesitate to kiss him back eagerly. There were some cat calls and you had a feeling a few came from your friends but you were hardly fazed by your brazen kiss with the most handsome man in the world.

When you broke away, you were both panting and you felt your cheeks flush a little at how he looked at you. There was definitely arousal there but he also looked slightly awestruck. You flashed him another grin before slurping some of your beer and he chuckled as he did the same.

You spent the next few hours sitting beside Billy at the bar as you got to know one another, all the little mundane details that really made up a person. You felt like you'd never get tired of looking at him, of hearing that smooth as silk voice or watching how expressive his face and eyes could be. And no matter what you said, whether it was embarrassing stories about your friends or about the plants at work, he acted like you'd just told him the best story ever. He was attentive and soaked up all of your words greedily. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel like this.

You left the bar that night after agreeing for him to pick you up at 8 the next night and exchanging numbers. You'd kissed him that time and it was full of as many promises as his kiss had been. And you didn't miss the way Frank clapped his back once he returned to his seat either. The wait would definitely be worth it.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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werenotadulting · 4 years ago

Text

Routine Procedure - Finale

Author's note - Hope you enjoyed!

Part 7 - Kate

If you'd asked her, Kate wouldn't have been able to tell what exactly had gotten her interested in it.

Maybe it was the idea of the power dynamic. She had always been one of those girls labeled as 'bossy' growing up, which was a misogynistic way of saying that she wasn't afraid to speak up and speak her mind.

Or maybe it was the subversion of expectations of a traditional relationship that did it for her. The idea that she was the one in control, the one making all the decisions.

Maybe it was the fact that it was so taboo and kinky that appealed to her. It didnt really matter, whatever the reason.

Kate was into being a Mommy Domme, and Kate found nothing hotter than having a diapered little bitch boy to call her own.

The ultimate fantasy was teaching the boy to love and trust his diapers. Make him associate orgasming with wet diapers and diaper changes. Create a leaking "accident" in public so he learns that while thicker diapers might increase the risk of being noticed, they save you from the embarrassment of wet pants.

Of course, she had considered bringing up her desires to Mike, but based off of past experiences, she didn't want to chance it. Mike was just too perfect of a guy to risk blowing it like that.

She had always been the dominant one in bed, with Mike eagerly submitting to her every whim, so she knew they were sexually compatible. It had never gone past light bondage though, and Kate was starting to get an itch that handcuffs and blindfolds just wouldn't scratch.

────────

It had come up entirely by chance, one day while she was scrolling through an obscure ABDL forum.

The post read: "Biomedical engineer here, and I think I've figured out a way to induce instant, semi-permanent incontinence."

The post was over 3 days old, and only had two comments on it. The first was from a mod, basically saying to take everyone's posts with a grain of salt. The second was from the OP, about 24 hours after the original post.

"I know it sounds like a fantasy, but I'm pretty confident it will work. I've had a career in medical devices for the last 8 years, specializing in the urology space. I don't want to get too deep into the details on here, so just PM me of you're interested."

Kate rolled her eyes.

Everyone in this community is so hooked on the 'I want to be instantly incontinent' thing, and all it ever ends up being is some silly fap content, she thought to herself.

"You know what, let's feed the troll and see what bites," she muttered.

Liv2DomU: ok spill, what's your magical method?

PrinceOfPadding: this for you, or someone else?

Liv: hypothetically, let's say it's for a boyfriend

Prince: Ahh okay. Very interesting. Well, like I said, I've worked in med device for awhile, and I've recently started my own company. I primarily work in the urology space, catheters, scopes, that kind of stuff.

Liv: hmm hate to break it to u bud, but catheters kinda already exist

Prince: oh sure, catheters exist, but my idea is to bridge the catheter world with the stent world

Liv: sounds idk...sketchy? illegal?

As she read more, Kate was beginning to think that this guy might not be as full of crap as she had initially thought. He had his own start-up, which had already launched a Foley catheter to the market. It was all above-board and legit.

Prince: so, for the aspiring incontinent-person-to-be, the ring is positioned with a catheter, and stays in place once the Foley is removed. Then overtime, probably a month at minimum, depending on the chemical makeup and customer desire, the ring breaks down and is naturally absorbed into the body. And they all sign a consent form saying they accept the risks of such a procedure.

Liv: so then once it's dissolved they are back to being being able to control their bladder?

Prince: that's the theory, yes

Liv: theory?

Prince: well, dissolvable stent technology present state takes like 18 months to break down, and the manufacturing of it is patented and kept under lock and key

Liv: so basically all you have to offer is a catheter lol

Prince: well no. I've got some good leads on dissolvable compounds, but I've got to do trials of the rings first to see if it would even work. I've promised free diapers for the first few months if people sign up, but it's been hard to get subjects

Liv: so these trial rings wouldn't dissolve?

Prince: nope

Liv: meaning my hypothetical boyfriend would be....?

Prince: permanently diaper dependent, yeah

────────

In the end Kate was curious enough that she was willing to hear the guy out.

He'd asked for a mailing address and her phone number. The first was to send proof that his company was real, and the second was just to keep in contact should she decide to proceed.

It all made sense, at least in theory. Foley catheters were safe, provided they were inserted by a trained healthcare professional. A normal person would get a normal catheter just like everyone else. But an ABDL would be signing up for what was essentially an intentionally faulty catheter.

Assuming they knew they were willingly signing up for it.

When asked about 'accidental' ring implants, Prince had basically said, hey, people really need to learn to read the fine print.

────────

I walked out to the mailbox. I've been expecting test results back from the scan I'd had a few weeks back. Opening up the box, I noticed a large envelope with my hospital's address on the front.

About time, I thought, grabbing the envelope and the rest of the mail.

I walked back into the house, where Kate was making herself a cup of tea.

"Anything good in the mail?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug.

I listed them aloud as I started to flip though the mail, "Looks like some junk mail, an internet bill, a brochure for some UroVention medical thing, and last but not least, my test results."

I dropped the rest of the mail on the counter and started to open up my scan results. As I was reading, Kate walked over and began sorting through the other mail.

"Oh good, they said it's benign, but they're still worried about the location. They're recommending removal, just to be on the safe side."

"Removal for something benign? That sounds odd, but whatever," Kate said, tucking something into her back pocket.

"I'm not too worried. It sounds like it should be a pretty routine procedure."

────────

Part 8 - Mike

I sat down on the couch, my diaper squishing underneath me. Kate had taken to putting two stuffers in my diaper, even though these Tykables could already hold a lot. The warm, comforting feeling of my wet diaper started to turn me on, just like it did every time I realized how wet I was or if I was about to get a change. Not that I could do anything about it, though.

I flipped open the laptop and signed in. It would probably be a good hour before Kate got back from the store. Apparently I was being downgraded from sippy cups to bottles.

Once logged in, I noticed that the screen was still up to the site where Kate had last been. It was another diaper order, this time a case of Megamaxes. I felt my cheeks start to heat up, seeing that Kate had chosen the pink color for the whole case.

I opened up a private window, and navigated to KinkLink. My profile on here was pretty bare. It always had been, just containing my age, gender, and some basic interests. I hadn't even bothered to post a picture when I set it up. I preferred to look at other people's profiles rather than post things of my own.

I was always intrigued by people's locations and how close they were to where I lived. One such person who I came back to check the posts of daily was a mommy domme, who it happened lived in my town. Her first posts, from nearly three years ago, were what had first caught my attention.

'Every night I dream about finding my perfect diaper slut. He will wake up to me rubbing his thick, soggy padding, the little bedwetter that I turned him into.'

'Picture this: You, in a wet diaper and nothing else. Me, in my black lingerie with a strap on. Do I have any volunteers?'

'Have no doubt, if you date me, it's diapers forever. There's no "only at home" or "but my parents are coming over". Maybe I'll just find a way to make you incontinent. Then you won't have an excuse.'

And then there were the pictures. She never would show her face, but she didn't need to.. She wasn't lying about the black lingerie. It left very little to the imagination. Then the next picture, where the bra came off, and she was just in her lacy panties, her pierced nipples and tattoos on display. Maybe it was the octopus tattoo on her arm, my favorite animal, that made her stick out to me.

But there was one post that I always came back to and was entranced by. It was a picture of her holding an ABU Kiddo, right below her breasts. She wasn't wearing any clothing.

'Aww baby, did you wet the bed? I think we should probably put you in some protection.'

────────

I stood in line at the coffee shop. It wasn't too busy for a Tuesday at 9 a.m., only two people were ahead of me. As the first person in line got her coffee and the second lady stepped up to place her order, I checked my phone. Still a half hour before I needed to be at work, I had some time to sit and enjoy my drink. I got my usual and went off to a booth in the corner.

"Excuse me, but do you happen to know what the Wi-Fi password is here?"

I looked up to see the woman who had been in front of me in line.

"Oh um, yeah it's....oh I think they just changed it. Try 'PINTO'. They always pick some sort of bean, I think they find it amusing, but it's never a coffee bean..." I trailed off.

She smiled, "Oh thank you so much, yeah I'll try that."

My mouth fell open is shock.

"I uhhh...I like your tattoo," I said. "They're my, um, favorite animal."

"Oh mine too! Isn't the octopus, like, the coolest animal?"

"D-definitely. Hey, would you like to sit with me? I'm just hanging out while I wait for work. My name is Mike by the way."

"That sounds really nice. Thank you, Mike. I'm Kate."

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago

Text

Study Session

A/N: I had a little chat earlier this week (I think it was this week) with @raspberrydreamclouds about the voice in my head being a southern male accent and this is what it produced. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind (sadly no smut this time) but it is cute and definitley will be something I need to do again in the future. Here is my masterlist and here is the link to go to if you want to be on any of my taglists.

Warnings: none, well reader is a bit h*rny and tries to get Sy to be h*rny too but there’s no smut, we’ve got lots of supportive Syverson and patient Syverson and I’m soft

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: You struggle with homework. Syverson encourages you to continue.

***

You absentmindedly scrolled through tik tok, getting lost in yet another video as you were laying on your stomach on your bed. You had your school work spread out on half of the bed and your laptop was open, though the screen had gone to sleep from lack of use. Taking up the other half of the bed was Aika. The German Shepherd was snoring quietly while you stared at your phone screen.

You didn’t even notice when she woke up, having heard the front door open. Her ears perked up and she listened intently. Then she looked at you, wondering if you’d react to noise. When you didn’t, Aika got up to investigate, padding downstairs.

A few moments later, Syverson appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. Blue eyes flickered around the room, surveying the scene.

You were still scrolling through that dumb social media site he didn’t understand. You often showed him videos you thought were funny or cute, but he didn’t get the point of the site.

Your laptop was open but the screen was black. A notebook was open right next to it and there was a pen resting on top of it, but the paper was blank. A textbook rested next to the laptop, but it wasn’t opened.

You were on your stomach propped up on your elbows. Your back was to him, so it was no surprise that you didn’t hear him.

“How’s your homework comin’ along, angel?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, rolling over on to your side so that you could see him.

“Sy.” You smiled at him. You placed your phone down and sat up. “What time is it? You’re home early.”

“Not exactly.”

You tapped the mouse pad on your laptop and read the time. It was six o’clock. That was around the time he said he’d be home. He’d gone out to a buddy’s house for a couple hours and you were going to spend that time working on homework so that whenever he came back, you could spend time together.

“Shit. I…. I lost track of time.” You rubbed your face.

“How much have of your studyin’ have ya gotten done?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

You looked down at the notebook, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. A few moments of silence passed before your eyes flickered over to him. You said nothing in reply, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You’re jokin’, angel.” Syverson moved into the room to look at the notebook. “I was gone nearly four hours.”

“I know.” You muttered, crossing your arms. A sinking feeling found its way to your stomach. “I-I just…. No matter how much I looked at the fucking words, I can’t remember any of them. Nothing is sticking.”

Syverson sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes gliding over the blank notebook.

“When are ya tested on it?”

“Monday. So three days.”

He nodded.

“I just-I can’t do it, Logan.” You brushed your hair back out of your face then rubbed your eyes. “I sat here for I don’t even know how long just reading and reading over the stupid words and I can’t fucking make it stick in my head. I can’t understand them and I get them mixed up.”

“Have ya tried flashcards?” He suggested.

“I can’t do it by myself.” You shook your head, frowning.

“Why didn’t you just ask, angel? I’ll do them with you.” He rubbed Aika’s head as he stood up.

“Sy, you don’t have to. It’s your weekend off base. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“I don’t care” He spoke over his shoulder. He left the room momentarily, going over to your study.

He returned a few moments later with a pack of index cards and a sharpie.

“Sy, I don’t want to do this.” You whined. “I just want to spend time with you. Like we planned, remember?”

“That was if you had gotten all your studyin’ done, angel. You didn’t do that though, did ya?” He raised his brows.

“No.”

“You wanna write these out, or do you want my shitty handwritin’ instead?”

You threw yourself back on the bed, groaning loudly.

“Sy! I don’t want to!”

Ignoring your little tantrum, Syverson sat back down on the edge of the bed and took your notebook and your laptop. He began to write out the words you needed to learn on one side and their definition on the other.

You pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and put it over your face, letting out another rather dramatic groan.

“I even put on a cute pair of panties for you underneath this shirt of yours I’m wearing, Syverson!”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you stole another one of my Metallica shirts.” Syverson glanced up at you. You were peeking out from underneath the pillow at him. Just as your eyes met, you smashed the pillow over your face again. “Come on, angel. Don’t be so dramatic. Let’s spend an hour or so on this and then we’ll call it a night. We can work more on it tomorrow.”

You were silent.

Syverson finished up writing the words, which took a little more than five minutes, and looked at you.

You were still laying on your back with your knees bent and a pillow over your face.

“Angel.”

He received no answer. He let out a little sigh and reached over to tap the outside of your thigh.

“Angel, come on.”

You sniffled and you trembled as you took in a couple quick breaths. Syverson furrowed his brows together. Were you crying?

He reached up to take ahold of the pillow and tried to tug it away gently, but you had a firm grip on it.

“No.” Your voice was shaky. You were crying.

“Y/N, why are you cryin’?”

“No.”

Syverson’s eyes glided over you for a few moments, debating on what to do.

“Angel, I can’t do anything for ya if your face is stuffed in that pillow and your voice is all muffled. When you’re ready, I’ll be sittin’ here and we can talk. Okay?”

A few minutes passed before your grip on the pillow loosened and you pulled it away from your face. Your eyes were red and glossy and tears trailed down your cheeks. You sat up and folded your legs so you were sitting criss-cross.

“Why are you cryin’?” He asked softly.

You shrugged your shoulders.

“‘Cause I ruined our night.” You rubbed your nose on the back of your hand. “We both have three day weekends and-and that’s so hard to come by. We’re usually so busy with work. If I would’ve just…. If I would’ve just put in more effort and tried harder…. We wouldn’t have to sit here and do this. We could be watching a movie or literally be doing anything else.”

“Angel, you didn’t ruin a damn thing.” Syverson assured you. “Yes, we had plans. But plans fall through. It happens. It’s okay. Look at how many times we’ve made plans and my work has changed them.”

“That’s different, Sy.” You muttered, picking at your nails.

“No, it ain’t. You’re tryin’ your hardest to get an education, Y/N. And you are doin’ a damn good job at it. You’re just too hard on yourself.”

You rubbed your hands together, unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“You aren’t…. You’re not mad at me?”

Syverson frowned.

“Angel, come here.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes. You wiped your cheeks before clambering across the bed and getting into his lap.

His arms wrapped around you, rubbing your back. He kissed your head.

“I ain’t mad at you, silly girl. The only reason I got after you for not studyin’ is ‘cause I want you to be successful. I want you goin’ places. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“M’not crying because of you. Just…. Just upset ‘cause I don’t want to do this.” You tucked your head into the front of his neck.

“I know. But I’m just askin’ for an hour, angel. Just one. Then I can run you a bath and maybe even rub your back if you want. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He kissed your hair once more, slipping his hand underneath the shirt of his you wore so that he could rub the small of your back for a few moments. “Go wash those tears off your face, then come right back here. We got work to do.”

You climbed out of his lap, sighing heavily.

As your feet touched the floor, Syverson gave your ass a nice smack. You squeaked, turning to look at him. A wide grin was spread across his lips.

“Go on, angel.” He encouraged, leaning back on the pillows.

“You know, we could just forget about the studying. I did have other plans for tonight too.” You put one hand on your hip, using the pose to pull up the oversized shirt you wore to reveal your lacy panties. They were dark red, Sy’s favorite color on you.

The grin left his lips as his eyes darkened at the sight of you standing in those panties with one of his black Metallica shirts.

“Woman, I ain’t gonna tell you again. We’re doin’ your homework first.”

You groaned and stomped to the bathroom.

***

A few minutes later, you returned to the bedroom. Sy was flipping through the index cards, trying to get a feel for what the words were that you had to learn. He glanced up at you for a moment and his eyes widened.

You no longer wore his shirt. Instead, you were in a silky nightgown that matched your red panties. The nightgown loosely hugged your curve and showed off your cleavage.

“Angel.” He said your petname as if he was warning you.

“What?” You feigned innocence, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him.

“Where’d the shirt go?”

“I was hot.” You explained as you climbed on to the bed, not shying away from swaying your hips a little more than necessary. Anything to get out of school working, right?

He grumbled under his breath, blue eyes flickering back down to the index cards in his hands.

You settled with sitting right beside him, your bare thigh brushing up against his. He was in jeans- thank goodness. If he had changed into something more comfortable, he risked being able to feel you better. And you needed to do this. You didn’t need distractions or to be a distraction to yourself.

“Have you, uh, Have you had a chance to look over the words at all?”

“A little.” You nodded. “Earlier.”

“How well do you think you know them?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hummed softly, placing your hand on his knee.

Syverson immediately took your hand in his grip and pulled it away. You frowned, hurt by his action.

“Angel-,”

“Logan-,”

“Y/N.” He said your name firmly. “You know damn well that if I let you start gettin’ handsy with me, we aren’t gonna get very far.”

“I don’t even care about the damn words, Logan! Just pay attention to me!” You whined. You knew you were behaving like an unruly child, but you had spent so long earlier that day trying and trying to study and to do your work that the thought of even looking at another word made you want to rip your hair out. “I-I can’t do it, Logan. I’m-I’m too…. My brain doesn’t work enough for this.”

Your words were quiet and hushed as you dropped your gaze to your lap. He released your hand. You folded your hands together on your thighs, biting your bottom lip nervously as you waited for him to say something.

“What do ya mean, angel?”

“I-I….” You paused for a moment to think about how you wanted to word your answer. “I read things, but none of it processes. It doesn’t sink into my head. I can’t focus. I can’t do it. It’s so hard and it makes me want to cry but I-I won’t because I don’t want to do that again but I can’t…. It’s so hard, Logan. I just don’t know why it can’t be a little bit easier.”

He stayed quiet in case your brief pause was just you trying to think of what else you wanted to say.

“And-And I just…. I don’t know. I don’t even want to do it half the time.” You shrugged your shoulders. “The whole ‘go to school’ thing. It’s not…. I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

Syverson nodded softly, looking down at the index cards.

“Angel, we knew about your ADHD when you decided that you wanted to go to school-,”

“I know, Sy!” You cut him off unintentionally. “I-I know. I just…. I didn’t think it would be this hard. I don’t remember high school being this bad.”

“Things can change. That’s what your doctor said. College brings out a whole bunch of new shit and problems that some people didn’t know they had. But angel, you know I’m here for you.” Syverson reached over to place his hand on yours. “I’m here for you no matter what. Thick and thin. That’s what we agreed to when we took our vows. Remember?”

“I remember.” You nodded, smiling at the memories.

“That means that if you need a little extra help, don’t hesitate to mention it to me. I’ll change my plans for you in an instant, you know that.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“I want to.” He noticed the way you frowned and the furrow between your brows as you looked down. He hooked one finger beneath your chin and turned your head so you had no choice but to look at him. “You’re a strong woman, Y/N. I’m damn proud to be your husband.”

A smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

“How about we do thirty minutes today and thirty tomorrow?” He suggested. You nodded, the twisted knot in your stomach dissipating a little. “Every time you get a word right, you can get a kiss. Does that sound good?”

“Yes.” You answered a little too quickly. “And if I get three in a row right, I get a little something extra.”

Syverson chuckled.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You take off something.”

“Deal.”

Taglist: @whitewolfandthefox @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @wolfyland07 @persephonehemingway @raspberrydreamclouds @onlyhenrys @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @scarlettwitcher @runawayolives @summersong69 @omgkatinka @crazybutconfidentaf @hell1129-blog @harrysthiccthighss @maan24 @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @henrythickcavill @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @lharrietg @creatingstuffinpeace @thefirelordm

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fluff #syverson #syverson x reader #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill #oneshot #sandcastle #ask queenxxxsupreme

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shijiujun · 4 years ago

Note

I noticed that you've done Chinese calligraphy (very pretty btw) and I wanted to ask if you know of any good resources for beginners?

heya!!!! thanks for that!! this is a timely ask because i was thinking i’d do a round-up anyway some time down the road so this is good XD

firstly tho, i’d like to put out a disclaimer that i’m no expert at this and am pretty much an amateur. so i took calligraphy classes for three years at a national calligraphy center (not that it made me a pro or shite because i don’t one bit have a natural affinity for it). if there are any calligraphy experts on this site, please feel free to add to this or correct me.

once again, i’m not claiming that everything i know is super accurate, all my basics were taught by a teacher so i’m not super sure where to go for self-learning but here’s what i know in brief for an unreliable, personal crash course:

↳ there are a lot of types of calligraphy, but i’ll just simply go on two types for now:

(1) normal calligraphy 书法 with a 毛笔 (calligraphy brush)

(2) contemporary calligraphy 硬笔书法 that’s done with a pen (can be 0.7/1.0 ball point or fountain pens with thin/thick nibs etc., although using fountain pens is considered something influenced by the west, and a lot of people prefer to use inky ball points instead for better flexibility)

↳ in terms of font/style there are five main groups (of which examples i will give in calligraphy brush, not a normal pen), and the first two are the most commonly used ones:

(1) 行书 - semi-cursive script

(2) 楷书 - regular script

(3) 草书 - cursive script

(4) 篆书 - seal script

(5) 隶书 - clerical script

↳ what are the differences and how do you pick a style to begin with?

in general people start with either 行书 or 楷书 especially for young adults these days because honestly, these are the more clearly visible forms that most of us that read chinese can decipher, as you can probably tell from the above differences. it’s literally chinese as most of us know it.

even those who’ve practiced calligraphy for a really long time are still kind of arguing on whether beginners should start with 行书 or 楷书, and the 楷书 camp advocates for the learning of regular script before they start inventing with semi-cursive 行书, which has its own merits. after all, with 楷书 you do learn the basics of how to start a stroke, end a stroke, the structure of characters split for the best composition (that’s why a lot of people practice on grid paper), but there are those who started with 行书 that say it’s easier to go to 楷书 after you learn semi-cursive.

the rule of thumb is, learn the style you like best and you think you can follow best. i began with 楷书 and honestly haven’t figure out 行书 much i have to say. although personally, if you are not familiar with chinese characters in general, i’d recommend going with 楷书 first. only because you know exactly how many strokes there are etc., whereas with semi-cursive there are some tricks to it that you might not need to know right now.

篆书 is considered like an ancient form of writing font and was used in certain periods and dynasties not that i know which ones, but if you watch certain cdramas, you’ll definitely have seen this font - this font is also commonly used to make stamping seals (i’ll explain what’s written on seals below)

隶书 was invented sometime after that for, as the name suggests, administrative purposes where clerics required a faster font to write with. lastly, there’s 草书, which as you can tell, is a hell lot harder to decipher! this is because this font was created more as an aesthetic, art form than actual like reading. there are some that are of course written clearly, but the extreme curves and like sometimes even thicker brushes are used for aesthetics/style sake like this one:

↳ some general advice when you’re practicing

(1) this is a time-intensive practice and requires a lot of patience but is incredibly rewarding - it’s not something that will come immediately even if you watch tutorials and practice a single word for like a week. just like english calligraphy, you’ll probably have to practice for months/years depending on how much you can practice BUT it’s not as if you need to put up��‘perfect’ work each time, and it’s more important to find your own style after getting the basics right

(2) my teacher and a lot of calligraphy enthusiasts always nag and say: chinese calligraphy is not about just technique, you need to write with the heart - [练字重在热情, 只要能坚持就好] this sound incredibly philosophical but is pretty much the old adage of if you like something and have passion for it, keep at it and you’ll get it eventually

↳ brushes

okay, here’s where it might get a little complicated - the type of brush you need depends on the type of font you’re going for, and of course if you don’t have that many choices, just go for whatever you have as long as the ends of the brush aren’t split [cr: https://www.sohu.com/a/343812958_161249]

(1) 硬毫笔 (hard): made of wolf, horse, rabbit, deer hair etc.

(2) 软毫笔 (soft): made of sheep hair etc.

(3) 兼毫笔 (medium): mixed with hair used to make both hard and soft brushes

(4) i think there are now brushes made of synthetic hair as well now #technology especially if it’s a cheap brush, also there are only so many animal hairs you can grab XD

obviously, is it more difficult to start with (2), the soft brush - it is said that once you begin with the soft brush and master it, you can use any brush. i started with a hard brush, especially for 楷书 because you need a hard brush to help you end the strokes precisely but that’s because i’m half a noob

for 行书 and 草书, because it’s cursive right and requires flexibility, of course a soft brush works better!

length of the brush matters as well - it is easier to control a shorter and slightly thicker brush than it is to control a lengthier and thinner brush - i’ve tried both, and i died with the second one, you can see the different varieties here:

*most calligraphy brushes for daily normal practice have pointed tips, the one you see on the far left is obviously a wide tip and this is only used for larger or huge pieces, those with four characters, and typically used with 草书

size of your desired font matters too - if you’re going for a dainty size, do use smaller, shorter and thinner brushes like these:

regular sized fonts would do well with brushes like these:

↳ paper

(1) print

square paper is your best friend - beginners should honestly start with grid paper and the type that sections the square nicely for you here, but once you’re familiar, any square/grid paper will do for practice, any size works as well, depends on what size font you’re trying to go for

square/columned/blank paper for final product

(2) paper types

yellow or white thin calligraphy practice paper, made of rice or normal paper - usually comes in a huge stack, feels a little like felted paper - they’re also usually folded into huge scroll-like stacks

normal A4 grid or column foolscap/paper - this list is not exhaustive, you can technically use any type of paper as long as it helps you to space out the words nicely

↳ miscellaneous accessories

(1) ink and ink holder - there is a special kind of ink for calligraphy called 墨 and people usually just buy it in bottles these days. in ancient times you had to 研墨 rub/scrape the ink out (which you can see with the rectangular pieces below). it honestly has a really pungent smell in my opinion for certain brands especially the cheaper ones, but that’s the authentic type i guess!

as for ink holders, just use a tiny plate or a tiny sauce plate (i stole one from my grandma XD)

(2) brush holder － not really necessary unless you have a lot of brushes and need a place to hold them. the reason to have one of these is also because it’ll help the brush keep its shape and will help it last longer as well

(3) stamps - for a final product, you should end it with a stamp! there are different types of stamps and different types of fonts, you can use the seal font for this as well, or just usual regular script this is your watermark/signature for calligraphy pieces

shapes come in ovals, squares, circles

characters in the stamp - it can be your surname, your full name, or even like a full poem for a huge stamp

ink - usually when you purchase a stamp and have it carved, it comes also with a red ink stamp pad, traditionally, stamps on calligraphy pieces are stamped in red

(4) felt base - we use felt bases so that when you write the ink doesn’t seep through the paper! but honestly newspaper works as well, but i bought it for real cheap on taobao

(5) paper weights - buy some nice chinese-style paperweight or just use whatever you have on hand because the papers are REALLY THIN and always end up flying somewhere

(1) get your strokes right first

honestly, get all your single/compound strokes right first! which means starting with words such as 一，二，三 and others

some videos:

youtube

(2) move onto other more complex words, one at a time

youtube

(3) print practice papers, get tracing paper and trace over each

here’s one but any works: https://kuaibao.qq.com/s/20191230AZP1AK00?refer=spider

---

so that’s all i have!! let me know if you’ve got any other questions or need some other resources for me to point you to!

#calligraphy #chinese calligraphy #chinese #calligraphy 101 #毛笔 #书法 #also i'm trying to put the read more button i cannot #i literally can't edit this

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copias-thrall · 4 years ago

Text

Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a…waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

#mary goore #longfic #gender neutral insert #aurelio voltaire

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xofanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Selfish - Part 14

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Pairing: Jun x Reader / Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.3k

Summary: You love them both and you’re torn. But…what if you didn’t have to choose? Jun was scrolling through hotel listings on Jeju Island. He’d decided to surprise you with a trip to Jeju Island. What better way to prove himself to you than to spoil you a little bit? As the holidays came and went, February was here before he knew it. It was the perfect time to go on a trip. And he knew that you could use a little rest and relaxation.

Jun bought two plane tickets that night, as the prices went down a bit. He was excited to spend some time away and alone with you. You’d forgiven him but he knew that he was still sort of on your shit list. If something else went wrong, he wasn’t sure what you’d do. After all the two of you had been through with Malai and the arguing with Chan and all, things had been a little rocky.

He’d spend the next couple of days planning the trip, deciding some fun things to do while you were there. He wanted things to be perfect and he had all these ideas. He wanted to take you to see all the sites—the waterfalls, the beaches, all the beautiful things nature had to offer. You’d forget about all the stress of being at home and just enjoy the vacation with him.

As he scrolled through hotel listings, you called him. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe,” you said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just on the computer browsing. You?”

“I just got out of the shower...”

“Oh really? What are you wearing?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Wanna see?”

He smirked. “I can’t say no to that.” A moment later, he got a notification on his phone that you’d sent him a photo. You were nude, laying on your towel. You took the picture in the mirror above your dresser, across from your bed. “Wow. You look amazing, baby. I can’t wait to get my hands on you…”

He spent almost an hour on the phone with you and in that time, he found the perfect hotel. It wasn’t a huge suite like he would’ve wanted but it had a king sized bed, a loveseat, desk, and a huge flat screen tv. Not to mention the beautiful view. And even though it wasn’t summertime, it had a really nice pool outside. Luckily though, there was an indoor pool and a spa that you could take advantage of. He’d definitely book a couples’ massage with you, so you could both get all those knots of tension out of your systems.

Jun was getting excited just thinking of all the fun you could have together. Lately, there hadn’t been much to look forward to so this trip was just what he needed. He was pumped to spend some time with you and get you all to himself. It had been a long time since he’d been on vacation and you hadn’t been on one either. So, he was more than happy to solve that problem.

As Jun went up the train station escalator, he could hardly contain his excitement. Everyone had a long weekend due to the Korean New Year. Jun was glad because he planned to tell you the surprise today. The two of you had planned to have dinner together tonight and it gave him the perfect opportunity to tell you about his surprise.

You were waiting for him in the lobby of the building you worked in when he walked in. He figured that you must’ve gotten off a little early. As he walked toward you, you didn’t see him. He smiled at the sight of you in the lounge chair, smiling at whatever you were looking at on your phone.

“Hi beautiful,” he said, taking you by surprise. “Did you get out a little early?”

You smiled, grabbing your bag and standing up to greet him. “Hey babe. Yeah, honestly everyone was ready to have a head start to this weekend. Everyone practically ran out of the office once our boss said we could leave.”

He kissed you on your forehead. “Nice.”

The two of you walked out of the building together, starting toward the restaurant that you wanted to go to nearby. On the walk there, you told him about your day and how the restaurant had really good steak and that it comes out perfect every time. He loved how animated you got when you spoke and how your eyes lit up with excitement.

You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later and were seated right away. It was more crowded than it would usually be on a Thursday evening because it was more like a Friday evening since everyone would be off of work tomorrow.

“I come here with my coworkers sometimes for their lunch special,” you said, flipping through the menu.

Your order was taken and you had your drinks within five minutes. Over the red wine, Jun said, “I have a surprise for you, babe.”

Your eyes lit up again, turning from your drink. “What is it?”

“We’re going to Jeju tomorrow morning,” he said. “I wanted to take you on a trip since we have off.”

“Wow,” you said, smiling even wider, “that sounds amazing. Are you serious?”

“Believe it, baby,” he said, reaching for your hand.

You looked down at the table for a few seconds before you said, “I have an idea, but it’s kind of crazy.”

“How crazy?”

“Well do you think that we could ever spend time together? Like the three of us?”

Jun nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“Well, what if he came with us?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said. You cleared your throat. “I mean, we can wait another time if you want, of course...but I just wanted to put the idea out there. It could be good for us.”

To be honest, Jun wanted this trip to just be for the two of you, without Chan tagging along. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he had a problem with this arrangement or that he was being greedy. Even though he didn’t want to, he said, “Yeah, that’s fine with me,” because he didn’t want you to be disappointed. The reality was that his reply was the furthest thing from the truth.

And it brought a smile to your face. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna give him a call and see if he can still get a flight. Can you forward me the flight info?”

He pursed his lips together as he went into his email and forwarded the flight itinerary to you. With a quick “Thanks, babe,” you were gone. You went into the hallway outside of the bathrooms and took out your phone.

“Hello?” Chan answered.

“Hey,” you said, “I have good news and bad news.”

“Okay, what’s the bad news?”

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to have our sleepover this weekend…”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to Jeju with Jun this weekend and I wanted to know if you wanted to...come with us.”

Chan paused for a moment; you didn’t blame him. The three of you had been through a lot in this relationship and you wondered if it was too soon to be together like this. Finally, he said, “That sounds like fun...”

“Do you really think you two can be in the same room together...with me?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean, it’s bound to happen eventually, right?”

You gave him the flight number and, thankfully, he was able to book the flight. And from the looks of it, he was a couple rows behind where you and Jun would be sitting.

“I’m all booked,” he said, after checking and re-checking the reservation. He chuckled. “I should get packing.”

Chan heard a knock at the door, interrupting him from his packing. It was Jason, who had arrived with a box of pizza. He sighed and went back over to his luggage. Confused, Jason sat down on the floor, putting the pizza on the table.

“What’s with you?” he said. He pointed to the luggage. “Are you going somewhere?”

“To Jeju,” Chan replied.

“Ooh that sounds like fun. I wish I was going somewhere. My family is right here in Seoul so there’s not really anywhere to go.”

“There’s only but so much fun I can have,” he said, rolling his eyes, as he threw socks into his suitcase. “Jun booked a trip for them this weekend and Y/N invited me along but it feels like it was more pity than anything else…”

Jason cursed under his breath as he opened the pizza box. “Maybe he wants to make peace. Maybe this is him putting his foot forward and trying to make things better.”

“On my weekend? The bastard had the nerve to book this trip when I was supposed to spend the weekend with Y/N! He would do something like this! He had her to himself last week!”

He kicked the suitcase out of frustration, startling his friend. Just when things seemed like they were looking up, Jun just had to do something to sabotage what they had.

“Well, Y/N will be there. She won’t let him get carried away.”

Chan sighed and sat down, grabbing a slice of pizza. “I don’t know, maybe I should’ve thought this over more. It feels like I’m third wheeling with my own girlfriend.”

Chan loved the idea of going on a trip with you. Since he was always busy with work and school, he rarely had enough time for the two of you to have a weekend getaway. But, for once, he was free all weekend and the cafe was closed for the holiday. And even better, his boss still paid him for the days he had off. He’d dubbed it a “New Year’s gift.” For once, things had been aligned so perfectly that it was hard to believe. And he planned on spending it with you since it was, in fact, his weekend to spend with you.

But now the plans had been rearranged. You called him asking if he wanted to go and he didn’t want to disappoint you, so he agreed to the plan before thinking it through. Would it be a good time? He was struggling to trust Jun in the first place; he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool if he hurt you again. On the other hand, it was something that would have to happen sooner or later. In this polyamorous relationship, the three of you would eventually have to come together sometime. It couldn’t always be separate relationships that were somehow still one.

“Is she usually fair though? Does it seem like she favors him over you?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, mouth full. He swallowed and added, “I just gotta make it until Sunday. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Chan sure as hell hoped so.

The three of you arrived at the airport a little sooner than expected. You checked in your bags and went through security with no issues. You arrived at the designated gate with an hour to spare. Chan sat down, leaning against his neck pillow. He looked tired; he’d mentioned how he stayed up a bit late trying to finish one of his assignments so that he wouldn’t have to stress about it on Sunday before classes started back up again on Monday.

You went to the bathroom briefly and, when you came back, Chan was fast asleep. You smiled at the sight of him and the fact that his mouth was slightly ajar.

Jun chuckled and said, “He passed out right away. Do you wanna get something to eat since we have time?”

You nodded and went to shake Chan. “Babe, do you want to eat?” Chan opened his eyes ever so slightly before groaning and turning his head away from you.

Jun said, “Just leave him. He’s pretty tired, isn’t he? We can just get a sandwich for him or something.” You nodded, figuring that you should probably let him catch up on his sleep. It was early and you’d get to Jeju a little after one o’clock. If the three of you were going to do anything fun, he’d need to save his energy.

As you walked to the toast stall you passed earlier, you said, “So what did you have planned for us?”

“Well, I was thinking today since we’re getting there a little later, we could take it easy and explore the city a little. There was a teahouse I wanted to visit. Then we can relax a little and get dinner together. How does that sound?”

“It sounds good...and thank you for planning all of this.”

“Anything for you,” he said.

You arrived at the toast stall and ordered toast for the three of you. Jun was surprised that you knew exactly what he would want and Chan, too. He loved that about you—you paid close attention to details. Even when he thought you weren’t listening or paying attention, you were. He loved you so much and he wished that this trip could be for just the two of you, but he also remembered that he signed up for this. He was the one that agreed to this and, while he had the right to change his mind, he didn’t want to lose you. He figured that this was better than nothing and he wanted to keep you in his life in whatever way he could.

When you got back to the gate, Chan was awake and playing a game on his phone. He smiled upon seeing you walking toward him.

“We got breakfast,” you said, handing him his bag. “Toast with extra egg.”

He smiled. “You’re amazing, you know that...”

“I would’ve ordered you extra egg, too,” mumbled Jun as he sat down in his seat next to you.

The three of you just laughed. You were grateful. Maybe things were looking up for the relationship. There wasn’t as much tension between Jun and Chan today. You didn’t know if it was because they’d both matured a lot within the last couple weeks or if it was just because it was early in the morning. Either way, you were grateful and you hoped that the rest of the trip would go this smoothly.

Before you knew it, it was time to board. As the three of you inched along in the aisle, Jun turned to you and said, “Okay. Row twenty-one is right there.”

You said, “Why don’t you and Chan sit together? You could get to know each other a little better. I don’t mind sitting by myself. I can just sit where Chan was going to sit.”

Jun started, “B-”

Chan smiled. “Yeah, we should get to know each other better.”

Jun wasn’t thrilled to be sitting next to Chan on the flight but thankfully it was only for about an hour. But over the course of the hour, things weren’t bad. There would probably always be at least a little tension between the two of them, since the relationship started out in a strange way. But things were actually okay.

Chan carried the conversation, at first. He asked Jun about the kinds of music he liked and then they talked about their families and some childhood memories and Chan told him about his life growing up in Jeju on a tangerine farm. Jun was almost surprised at how down to earth he was. He wasn’t snobby or any of the things that he’d assumed about him. He almost felt bad for thinking those things about him. The reality was that Chan was a good guy and he could see why you liked him in the first place.

Chan said, “I told my mom that I was coming for the weekend. I was thinking that maybe tomorrow, if we have time, we could have dinner with my family.”

Jun nodded. “By chance, do they know...about us?”

Chan paused. To be honest, he’d only told his friends about the true relationship they were in. Of course, he’d told his parents that you were back together with him but he hadn’t told them that you were also dating Jun. How could he tell his parents something like that? They definitely wouldn’t approve and he had no idea how complicated it would be for them to understand something that was so complicated in itself.

“Not exactly,” he answered.

Jun knew what that meant before Chan needed to explain further. Jun knew that he wouldn’t be able to go to have dinner with Chan’s family as your boyfriend. In this situation, Chan would be your boyfriend and Jun would be stuck playing the role of a friend, whether it was your friend or Chan’s. Either way, it was like playing pretend.

Jun had no right to feel upset by it because he was in the same predicament with his own family. They knew that you’d hit a rough patch and got back together, but they had no idea that you’d picked up an additional partner on the way back to each other. He hadn’t even told his older sister despite the fact that they were pretty close.

Was this something to be ashamed of? Would this be something that could ever be accepted? Even though no one was exactly lying, there was a lot of information being withheld. Jun had no idea how the three of you could keep this up. For how much longer, realistically, could you keep it up?

You pushed open the hotel room door, exhausted from the walk you’d gone on. You got to see the surrounding areas near your hotel and went to the teahouse that Jun wanted to go to, trying and even buying some of the teas. And Chan showed you some of the places he liked to go as a kid. And you had some street foods and tried fresh grilled mackerel, which Jun enjoyed so much he got seconds. It had been a while since Chan had been able to come to Jeju and he had never gone with you before; you had broken up with him before he had the chance to bring you to his hometown. You watched him as his eyes lit up, picking up memories from his childhood.

So far, you liked Jeju a lot and the scenery was so beautiful and you got a lot of pictures. From what you could tell, Jun had a good time too. And he took a bunch of pictures with his new camera. And your boyfriends were also cordial in taking separate pictures with you, too. And then you asked a kind stranger to take pictures of the three of you, together.

“I’m exhausted,” Jun said, plopping down on the couch.

“That was fun,” you said, putting down your purse. “Thanks for showing us around, Chan.”

“Of course,” he said.

“I made a reservation at the steakhouse for seven. We have about two and a half hours until then,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah, we can just hang out around here for a while.”

Chan said, “I could use a warm cup of tea,” poking around the kitchenette. There were two packets of instant coffee and two tea bags, clearly not enough for the three of you. “Actually, I’ll go to the cafe downstairs. Y/N? Jun? Do you want something?”

Jun said, “Can you get me a matcha latte?”

You said, “Me too.”

Chan nodded and grabbed a key card. “Be back in a couple minutes.”

As Jun heard the door shut, he was relieved. Finally, he’d have a moment alone with you. You smiled before he had a chance to say anything and you sat next to him on the couch before he had a chance to call you over. He sat up, pulling you into his arms. You snuggled into his shoulder. You said, “Thank you for planning this trip. I can’t wait to get cute for dinner.”

“You always look cute, my love. Which dress did you bring?”

“I got this long sleeved black one,” you said. “I’d gotten it awhile ago but didn’t have a chance to wear it.”

“I’m sure you’ll look great,” he said, planting a kiss on your lips.

You stood up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom…”

A few minutes later, Chan returned with the drinks. Jun was fast asleep on the couch, his legs sprawled out and his mouth slightly open. He heard water running in the bathroom and assumed that you were in there. He set Jun’s drink on the coffee table next to the couch, assuming he’d probably wake up in a few minutes.

When you came out, Chan was sitting on the bed sipping on his tea. You sat next to him and he handed you your drink. “Thanks, baby.”

“No problem. Jun must be really tired, huh?”

You rested your head on Chan’s shoulder with a yawn. “Yeah. The first day of vacation always seems to be the hardest.” You glanced up at him. “Are you okay?”

He looked down at you, meeting your eyes. “Of course. I’m here with you.”

Jun’s eyes fluttered open about a half hour later. The room was darker than he remembered and as he glanced over to the window. The setting sun peeked through, shining on you and Chan asleep in the bed together. His heart dropped at the sight and jealousy pumped through his veins.

He looked at the matcha latte, grabbing it and taking a sip. He was so annoyed he didn’t know what to do. What he really wanted to do was go over there, drag Chan out of the bed and possibly punch him in his stupid face. But this was his own fault. He had opened the door that allowed him to come on this trip with you anyway. He should’ve put his foot down when he had the chance. He’d just wanted the trip to be for the two of you and he didn’t have a problem with Chan doing the same in the future.

Was this selfish of him? Was this something he’d have to deal with for the duration of this relationship? Would the pangs of jealousy and frustration go away?

Matcha latte in hand, he decided to take a walk so that he could calm down a little. He knew that his anger and frustration would only boil over and spill into the relationship. The last thing he wanted was to upset you and especially not on a trip that was supposed to be relaxing for everyone. Although Jun felt anything but relaxed so far.

He went outside and started walking around aimlessly, no clear destination in sight. He just needed some air. He needed some time to himself, just to take a few deep breaths.

Eventually, he started feeling more and more anxious as he walked back toward the hotel a few minutes later. His mind raced with irrational thoughts of the two of you in bed together. What if you were having sex right now, making a mess on the bed that the three of you were supposed to share tonight.

He took out his phone, hoping that Taesik was free to talk for a few minutes. The phone rang four times before he answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, how’s day one of vacation?”

“He’s all over her! How am I third wheeling on a trip that I planned?”

“Who are you more upset at, Jun?”

Jun sucked his teeth. He didn’t need his friend on the other end of the phone call being reasonable. He let out a sigh. “I don’t know...I just know that they fell asleep in the bed and her head is on his shoulder and he’s holding her hand.”

“I dunno what to say,” said Taesik. “Maybe this was a bad idea…”

Deep down, Jun knew that the three of you had issues that you hadn’t resolved. Jun knew there were issues but he couldn’t pinpoint the exact problems. He wasn’t a professional and neither were you or Chan. The three of you were just struggling through the whole thing. Should you invest in couples’ counseling? Was this normal? Jun hated this concept; he had no idea what was right and what was wrong. Was it normal to feel jealousy in a polyamorous relationship?

“Yeah,” he said, “maybe we’re not ready for this…” He heard the phone beep on the other end. Pulling his phone away from his ear, he saw that you were calling him. “She’s calling me…”

“Answer her,” said Taesik. “Call me if you need to vent. I hope everything goes okay tonight.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Talk to you later.”

He clicked over to the other line, answering your call. “Baby, where’d you go?”

“I just got bored and came outside to watch the sunset,” he lied.

“Come back,” you said. “We should start getting ready. Chan is still asleep, so I’ll shower first.”

Jun said, “Okay, I’ll see you in a minute,” and the call was over. He headed upstairs to the hotel room, bracing himself and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. There was no reason for him to be angry. He had agreed to this arrangement, after all. He was in a relationship with you but so was Chan. And they needed to find a way to deal with it all.

When he got back, he heard the sink water running. Glancing over at the bed, he saw Chan was still asleep. He knocked on the door and you opened it, still dressed. You hadn’t gotten in the shower yet; he caught you just as you were washing your face. Finally, even if it was in the bathroom, he could have a moment alone with you. He stood behind you as you pat your face dry with the towel.

“How was your walk?”

Jun nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. “It was good. I’m better now that I’m back here with you,” he said, kissing your neck. “Mind if I join you in the shower?”

You raised your eyebrows at the suggestion and it also made you excited. “Yeah, why not?”

Jun watched as you peeled your clothes off slowly, teasing him. He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t throbbing in his pants at the sight of you. Taking off his own clothes, he never took his eyes off of you. And when you were completely bare before him, he pulled you closer to him and kissed you, hard. Your tongue found his, your naked bodies pressed together against the glass of the shower door.

“I love you,” Jun mumbled against your lips.

“I love you, too,” you answered, planting one last kiss on his lips. You followed Jun into the shower and you didn’t hesitate to start washing him up first. You took care to be gentle with him, turning him on. His lips parted as you massaged his balls and he let out a groan as your hand went up and down his shaft. Now, he was completely hard and his dick was throbbing with desire to bend you over and pound your pussy until you were screaming for more.

He cursed under his breath as he got under the water and you helped him rinse the soap off of his body. He kissed you again and, as he did, he reached down to your clit. It caught you by surprise, making you gasp. He rubbed it harder and your lips parted with a moan.

“Quiet, baby,” he whispered. “You don’t want to wake Chan up, do you?” He spun you around so that you were facing away from him, reaching down to rub your clit from the front. With his left hand he covered your mouth and with his right, he rubbed your clit. Jun enjoyed fucking around in the shower, even on a regular day. He loved seeing your wet body and how your pussy would end up like a river, your wetness flowing out and onto his fingers.

He kept going and you squeezed your legs together as if you were trying to escape. Jun chuckled. “Don’t you want to come, baby?” With that, you parted your legs again, letting the pleasure take over. He felt the vibrations of your moans on his palm, but he held it there anyway. It turned him on to feel you struggling. He took your clit between his thumb and pointer finger, giving it a few light squeezes that drove you crazy. After, he dragged his fingers down your slit. Already, you were so wet. And he knew that it didn’t take you long to come like this.

He could feel you struggling, against his fingers. Your body was starting to twitch and he knew you were dangerously close to your orgasm.

“Come for me, Y/N,” Jun whispered in your ear.

Hearing his voice in your ear is what did it for you. You couldn’t take it anymore. You let go, trembling, shivering, and coming all over his fingers. And once you came down from your high, he kissed you once more.

“Are you almost ready to go?” Chan asked. His stomach was growling and you’d been prancing around the hotel room in your bra and underwear, scrambling to finish getting ready for the past ten minutes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, stepping into your dress. “My makeup didn’t come out like I expected...Can you zip me?” Chan nodded as you walked over toward him. He zipped you up quickly, hoping that this was the last thing you had to do before the three of you headed to dinner. Thankfully Jun had pushed the reservation to 7:45 rather than 7:30 because of the chance you might be late.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you said, placing your hands on Jun’s shoulders as he sat on the couch.

“Okay,” Jun said. “Let’s call a cab.”

Within fifteen minutes you arrived at the restaurant. Luckily, it wasn’t too far away from the hotel. Jun had chosen a nice restaurant because he wanted to treat you to a special dinner. Of course, he had to change the reservation to three people instead. And he’d be sharing dinner with not only you but with Chan too.

You entered the restaurant and your party was seated right away, in a booth. Thankfully it was one of those curved ones so that you didn’t have to choose who to sit next to or for the three of you to squeeze on one side. You sat in the middle, with a boyfriend at either side of you.

“This place is pretty nice,” said Jun, taking off his coat. “I know you don’t like restaurants that are too fancy, so this is a good in between.”

“Yeah,” you said. “This is perfect. I’m paying, by the way.”

“No,” Chan said. “You shouldn’t be the one to pay. I should pay, since there was this last minute change.”

Jun rolled his eyes when no one was looking. Jun had planned on paying and here Chan was being a goody-two shoes. He found himself becoming annoyed, even though he had been trying so hard not to act like this. While you were getting dressed earlier, he tried to push down feelings of jealousy as you walked back and forth from your suitcase to the bathroom half dressed. He tried not to feel jealous because obviously both he and Chan had seen you naked and both he and Chan had sex with you; everything was just separate.

Jun tried to push down those feelings of jealousy as he looked at the menu for the next few minutes. The waiter came and took everyone’s order. He said, “Wine, anyone?”

“Sure,” Jun answered. “What wines go well with steak?”

Jun was definitely going to need some alcohol in his system if he was going to get through the night without losing his cool. He didn’t mind Chan, in general, but he’d like him much better if he was back in Seoul instead of here with them.

For the most part, dinner went smoothly. The three of you had some pretty good conversation. Things between Jun and Chan weren’t explosive; neither men took petty jabs at each other and the three of you were able to laugh together. If anything, they were the ones poking fun at you, revealing a few of your embarrassing moments.

Jun chuckled. “Oh my god, did Y/N ever tell you about the first time she got blackout drunk?”

“No,” Chan said, “what happened?”

Jun cleared his throat. “She was at the karaoke bar getting drinks with Na-Ri and their other friends and she asked me to come get her. So, I get there and order more drinks. Next thing I know, we’re leaving and she fell into some garbage bags outside the bar. And when I got her back up again, she fell back down into them.”

As the guys started laughing again, you said, “Stop! That was so embarrassing. Everyone stopped to look and you know what the worst part of it was? There were police officers on duty and they walked by and they laughed! They fucking laughed at me! Can you believe that?”

And both Jun and Chan erupted into laughter. Jun picked up his wine glass, finishing what was left. He’d been the one to finish most of the wine, leaving little for you and Chan. He said, “Oh, did I finish most of it? Should I order another?”

You put your finger on your chin. “Actually...we should go out after this.”

Chan looked up, chewing on a piece of steak. “Where to?”

“I saw some bars a few doors down. Why don’t we check it out?”

In an ideal world, Chan wouldn’t be here. In an ideal world, it’d just be you and Jun. And in an ideal world Jun would go out with you to the bars knowing that he’d be taking you back to the hotel so that you could make love all night and fall asleep in each others’ arms. But that couldn’t happen tonight and it was frustrating. It’s not that his main goal was to have sex with you but having the option taken from him sucked. He just wanted some privacy and alone time with his girlfriend. But with Chan here, it was impossible and he’d just have to make the best of it. His goal was just for you to be happy and to enjoy yourself.

This lounge had a chill vibe. It was a little more upscale than the others in the area but, surprisingly, it wasn’t too crowded considering it was a Friday night. The three of you sat in a booth, complete with velvet couches and a menu perfectly aligned in the center of the table. You picked up the menu, wondering what their drinks were like.

“What are you thinking of getting babe?” asked Chan, looking at the menu with you.

Jun rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You nodded. “Want me to order you something?”

As Jun slid out of the booth, he said, “Yeah. You know what I like.” And with a wink, he was gone. Within five minutes, the drinks were ordered and Jun had come back to the table looking a little stressed out. You noticed because you knew him. There was something bothering him and you were just noticing. You felt a little guilty for not noticing sooner that is, if he’d been feeling stressed out earlier.

As the waiter placed your drinks on the table, you turned to Jun. “You okay?”

He gave you a nod as you slid him his drink. “Of course.”

A few sips into their drinks, you turned to Chan. “So did you talk to your mom?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah. I told her that I’m here and that I’m staying until Monday since I don’t have class.”

“I want to see her,” you said. “It’s been awhile.”

Chan cleared his throat. “I know. I thought about it and I’m not sure it’s a good idea if the three of us are together…It’s kind of complicated since they don’t know about Jun...”

You pouted, the realization setting in. “Oh…okay. I guess you’re right...”

Chan knew you were disappointed because you hadn’t seen his parents in awhile. He knew they’d be happy to see you and vice versa. Chan looked over at Jun, who seemed more concerned with his drink than the conversation the three of you were supposed to be having right now. Chan was annoyed. He was trying to be considerate of Jun’s feelings, since he was the one who brought up that their families don’t know the nature of the relationship they were in. He was the one who brought it up in the first place and he wasn’t even paying attention. And even worse, Chan was the only one who seemed to notice. Of course, he had no problem with bringing his girlfriend to meet his parents. But he didn’t want to make Jun uncomfortable.

“Jun,” called Chan.

Jun looked up from his drink. “Hm?”

“Y/N seems to really wanna meet my parents. Do you think we could maybe meet them at a restaurant? That way we won’t have to stay for too long…”

Jun wasn’t happy about it. If he was being honest, he wanted to suggest that he take her to dinner and for him to stay at the hotel. He didn’t want to meet Chan’s family as a friend. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be and it wasn’t fair that he had to suffer on his own vacation.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I guess that wouldn’t hurt.” He grit his teeth and tried to convince himself that this was normal. He knew that, at the end of the day, it would be the same if the roles were reversed. If it was Jun’s family here, the scenario would be the same. Chan wouldn’t be able to come in as your boyfriend either.

But you were smiling. You were happy and Jun supposed that that was more important.

“Okay,” said Chan. “I’ll call them in the morning.”

You turned, looking toward the dance floor. It was mostly empty; You saw one group dancing together. There was hip hop music playing and it was one of your favorite songs. Your body wanted to move. “Let’s dance.” As you scooted off of your seat, you looked at Jun expectantly.

“I’ll join in a minute. I’m just gonna finish this,” he said, pointing to the rest of his drink. In all honesty, Jun was frustrated. To be honest, he didn’t want to be here and he certainly wasn’t in the mood to dance. He watched you dance with Chan and you weren’t even dancing with him in a sexual or suggestive way. You weren’t grinding on him or anything like that but he still felt jealousy coursing through his veins. These feelings seemed unreasonable. Jun had been in this arrangement with you for a couple months now. He knew how things were supposed to be. So why was it that he still felt this ridiculous jealousy, still? Why was it that he couldn’t accept this relationship with you and with Chan?

With a sigh, he finished your drink in one gulp. But he needed more, especially to deal with the feelings and doubts that crossed his mind. He walked over to the bar, taking a seat at the bar.

“What can I get for you?” asked the female bartender.

“Something strong,” he replied. “How about whiskey? On the rocks.”

She smiled and a moment or two later, returned with his drink. A few sips in, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Jun turned and was faced with the person that he wanted to see the least. The alcohol was starting to hit him now and he was beginning to care less and less. He rolled his eyes and he didn’t care if Chan saw him. And Chan did see but decided to be the bigger person and brush it off.

What pissed him off is that Chan approached him with raised, concerned eyebrows. Glancing back over to the dance floor and table, you were nowhere in sight. He assumed that you must’ve gone to the bathroom.

“What’s up with you?”

Jun shrugged his shoulders, indifferent to Chan’s concern. “What does it look like? I’m having a drink, like everyone else here.” He took another sip. From Chan’s point of view, it seemed more like a gulp than anything else.

Chan looked back at the table and glanced at you. “Why don’t you come drink it at the table...with us? Y/N’s in the bathroom but she’ll be back in a second.”

Jun sighed, swirling the ice around in his glass. “I’m just having a good time over here. I’m enjoying the vibes and the scenery. I can’t even do that?”

Chan looked at the now empty glass Jun had in his hand. He scoffed as Jun ordered another. “Never mind…”

“Do you have a problem with me?”

“No,” said Chan. “If you weren’t in the mood to dance, I get it. But I don’t understand why you left the table to come over here and down a whole drink in two minutes...”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good glass of whiskey. You should try it. Don’t be so uptight.”

With that, Jun placed his new glass in Chan’s hands. “Here, have some.” Jun cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something?”

Chan raised his eyebrows, curious at the direction the conversation was going.“What?”

“Don’t you get jealous?”

“Sometimes...but I try not to let it get the best of me.”

Jun pouted. “You’re her favorite.”

Chan couldn’t believe his ears. Was Jun serious? Was he actually saying these words in all seriousness? “Are you fucking kidding, Junhee? She literally left me for you. What we had was perfect and she left me and went running back to you! Did you forget about that or do you have a selective memory? You're the favorite here!”

Jun pouted. “It just seems like she always gravitates to you...”

“All night she’s been checking on you and wondering if you’re okay. In fact, I haven’t even been able to enjoy myself tonight because she’s been so concerned about you and your shitty mood!”

“She would do the same for you because that’s how she is…”

Chan ignored him. “Why are you so insecure? Can't you see that she's been concerned about you this whole time?”

“I wanted to take this trip and make it special just for the two of us and you just had to come and mess it all up!”

“Stop yelling.”

“I’m not yelling!”

“Well you’re clearly upset with me. Honestly, if you wanted your own time why did you let me come? Why lie to her and act like you're okay with me showing up if that's not true? Were you just trying to make her happy?” he asked.

“Of course I was trying to make her happy. I’m always trying to make her happy…”

“And you thought you’d make her happy by lying to her and leading her on? Looks like you’re doing a great job.” Chan couldn’t help but to let out a deep sigh. “You know, I thought you agreed to this because you thought it would be good for the three of us. I thought you were finally coming to accept things and make this work. I thought we were finally getting somewhere. But now I see I was wrong...”

Chan would be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt. He thought that maybe he and Jun could be friends. He thought that after the plane ride and the conversation they’d had that they’d finally be able to get along, not only for your sake but because they genuinely wanted to. But it was becoming more and more clear that Chan was dreaming and he needed to wake up from this dream.

Wake up, Yuchan...

Tagged: @hxnsoliee

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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago

Text

Your Little Ritual

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X female reader

Summary: You and Bucky have started your own weird little ritual when it comes to being stuck in hotel rooms on missions. At first it’s fairly innocent. Until it isn’t.

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mutual masturbation

Author’s Note: Inspired by THIS audio because...damn. Listening to the audio with the story is advised!

I have no beta reader. So I apologize for any typos or grammatical errors. I didn’t go over this very in-depth. I just really wanted to get it out.

***

It had all started very innocently, this weird little ritual you and Bucky now shared. Never in your life did you think it would have propelled into what it was now. You swore by that. One night, after a complication with the mission plans had arisen, you found yourself in a hotel room with Bucky awaiting further orders. Steve had informed you that a response on how to proceed wouldn’t come until the next day. He had told you to head to the hotel and sit tight while they tried to work through the logistics. No big deal. Things like this happened all the time. In fact, only a few months prior you had gotten stranded in Belize with Sam and Wanda after you had discovered your intel was compromised. Seven days and nights in a bed bug ridden motel had put the three of you on such edge that you and Wanda had almost come to blows. And she was easily your best friend. A single night in a nice, clean hotel wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, it could have easily been considered a mini vacation as you and Bucky had raided the vending machines that night before jumping onto the big king size bed and flipping on the TV.

You were digging into the assortment of chips, candy, and soda when Bucky asked you what you would probably consider to this day to be the weirdest question anyone has ever asked you.

“Hey (Y/N), what’s Wetter the Better? I don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

You stopped, mid-bite into a twinkie, and looked over to him and then the TV. Sure enough, there on the channel guide was Wetter the Better playing from 9-10pm on channel 581. You couldn’t help but let a snort out through your nose as you bit down into the overly sweet cake and synthetic filling.

“That’s a porno Bucky Boy. I’d be more concerned if you had seen it. No one pays for porn anymore,” you stated bluntly, mouth full of twinkie.

“Seriously?” Bucky asked, looking at the television with a bewildered expression.

“Yea, with all the free sites online, why pay someone to watch people get it on?” you continued, taking another bite and picking out a bag of Doritos from the pile of junk.

“No. Not—I mean. You can get pornographic movies on TV? Can just anyone watch it or?” Bucky questioned, turning to you with a curious expression.

“Wait. How do you not know about porn Bucky? Haven’t you like…been around?” you asked, utterly confused by what was going on at that moment, “Like I understand why Steve might not know about it, but…”

“I know what porn is,” Bucky rolled his eyes, “Obviously I’ve heard of it. But I’ve never seen it. Most definitely didn’t know they’d just have it on the TV like this where anyone can see it. Children even!”

“Not everyone can see it. You have to pay for it. Here look,” you leaned over and grabbed the remote from his hand and clicked on the movie title. Up popped a screen asking if you’d like to purchase the channel for a flat rate of $20 a day. “I’m still confused. How do you not know about this? Porno channels have been around since before the 90’s and I’m pretty sure you were Winter Soldiering about the normal world then.”

“Well yea, but I spent half of it frozen and the other half well…let’s just say he didn’t have much of an interest in sex, let alone watching others have sex,” admitted Bucky, scratching his neck and discretely looking back at the television.

“Bucky…” you lingered, unsure if your assessment of the situation was correct or not, “do you want to watch the porno movie?”

Bucky blushed, looking away from you.

“Oh my god! You do!”

“(Y/N)…” whined Bucky, obviously embarrassed.

“We totally can if you want,” you said, smiling from ear to ear at the poor man sitting at the end of the bed.

“What?” Bucky turned to you, his voice dripping with surprise, “Won’t that be…I don’t know, weird?”

“Only if you make it weird,” you shrugged, “You’ve lived a deprived life Bucky Boy. I think if you want to buy a porno movie in a hotel, you should be able to. Plus, sometimes they’re really cheesy and funny. We might get a good laugh.”

“Okay…okay yea. Let’s do it,” decided Bucky, grabbing a Baby Ruth and scooting back to sit against the headboard. His body almost vibrated in excitement as you proceeded to buy porn on Tony Stark’s dime and clicked ‘Play’.

And so, the night had gone as such. In the beginning, Bucky was like a teenage boy seeing a Playboy in his dad’s basement for the first time. He stared in wide-eyed amazement as the music began to play and the camera focused on the overly done-up, but impressively attractive woman on screen. Then, as it played on, very quickly did you both realize how incredibly ridiculous the movie actually was. Between bad dialogue, poor acting, and the obviously fake moans, the two of you were in tears. You laughed and joked around as you continued to snack and watch. Near the end, however, the movie took a turn and the last scene had become a little more believable and a little less hilarious. By the end, Bucky had cleared his throat and made a casual comment about taking a shower. You nodded, telling him to take his time. It was very clear that you both needed a bit of private time.

And so, a ritual had been born.

Every time you and Bucky found yourselves spending an evening together in a hotel room, it was expected that you’d end up watching a porno, laughing your asses off and then occasionally parting ways to take care of certain needs if required. It should have felt weird. It should have been weird. You both knew that. It was the reason you didn’t tell anyone about it. But still, you both seemed to bond over the act. Inside jokes were formed, good times were had. You liked to think of it as the oddest coworker team building exercise in the world. And that’s all it was.

Until it wasn’t.

That particular night had started out like any other. You and Bucky were stuck in a grungy little motel somewhere in the Midwest. You had raided the vending machines, you were sitting on the bed, as Bucky scrolled through the TV guide to find the porn channel. The only difference this night was that the bed was smaller than usual. Often you and Bucky had to get rooms with only one bed. The guise of a couple staying the night on a road trip was much more believable and did well to cover your tracks. However, you usually tried to get rooms with at least a queen mattress. Bucky was a big guy and you liked to flop around in your sleep. Or so he told you. But, the motel in question only had rooms with doubles left. And that was fine. You could both deal with that no problem.

“What’s playing tonight at the Skinemax theatre Bucky Boy?” you asked, crossing one ankle over the other as you took a sip of orange soda. You placed in on the side table next to you and hugged a throw pillow close to your chest.

“Well, we have what appears to be a parody of The Wizard of Oz or The Sex Therapist.”

“My vote would be for the second one. I actually like The Wizard of Oz, I don’t think I need it ruined by a bad porn parody,” you confessed. Bucky nodded in agreement, pressing play on The Sex Therapist and popping an M&M into his mouth.

“I can’t wait to see how bad this is gonna’ be,” said Bucky, getting comfortable.

“I know right? Probably some guy in glasses telling a girl the only way to cure her mental issues is to fuck it out of her,” you snorted, exchanging a look with Bucky. You were both fairly familiar with the bad porn tropes at this point. In fact, one of your favorite parts of your ritual was trying to predict what was going to happen.

The screen changed from the title to the opening scene and what you saw took you by surprise for a second. The main actor happened to look a little like Bucky. Not exactly, but the resemblance was still enough to make you feel slightly awkward. He wasn’t as muscular as Bucky, but he shared the same shoulder length brown hair and rough stubble over his jaw.

“Awww Bucky Boy, why didn’t you tell me you stared in porn on the side?” you teased, hoping to distill any tension. You turned to look at him, titling your head to the side in a condescending manner.

“Shut up, I could say the same thing about you,” Bucky pointed to the screen and you turned back to see a woman who sure enough kind of resembled you. She was a little shorter than you, but you shared the same hair and eye color, as well as similar noses.

Very quickly, the two of you realized that this was unlike the porn movies you usually watched. It was…good. Really good. The acting was believable. The plot was well thought out. The actors shared a genuine chemistry and it was...hot. Very hot. Then of course to top it all off, it didn’t help that if you squinted it was almost like watching you and Bucky having hot and heavy sex right in front of you. A heat began to pool in your stomach that slowly swirled and coursed through your body. Hugging the pillow in your arms closer, you made the embarrassing realization that your nipples were rock hard. The friction of the pillow against them made you squirm in your spot on the bed. Suddenly, you were very aware of Bucky sitting next to you, close enough to touch. You glanced over, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He appeared to be just as uncomfortable as you were. An obvious bulge starting to form in his sweats.

You cleared your throat, “Wanna’ get under the covers? It’s a bit cold in here,” you said, hoping to give you both an excuse to hide. Him, to cover his budding erection, and you to conceal the way your thighs clenched together. He graciously took the excuse, agreeing and slipping under the covers with you.

The two of you continued to watch, both afraid to admit that either of you were turned on by the movie in front of you. A pool of arousal was beginning to form in your underwear, as a particularly intense scene play on where the man had the woman bent over a desk as he spanked her ass over and over again. Bucky coughed into his hand, shifting under the blankets, his elbow bumping yours. At the contact, you jumped away from each other, Bucky muttering a few nervous apologies. It was clear that you were both feeling the effects of the movie in full force.

“You’re fine, um, this is…something,” you commented, your face heating.

“Yea, uh, yea. Very…well done,” said Bucky, not looking away from the screen.

“You know…” you began the sentence not knowing where it was going and surprising even yourself when you finished it, “if you wanted to…you know. I wouldn’t, um, I wouldn’t mind.”

“You mean…” Bucky started, looking over at you skeptically.

“I just mean, this is pretty intense. I would understand if you needed to take care of…things.”

“You mean if I wanted to get myself off,” Bucky chuckled, “You don’t see anything weird with that?”

“Well when you say it like that it is,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I just go into the other room?”

“Because then you wouldn’t be able to watch the movie,” you responded, wanting to kick yourself. What were you saying? Why were you continuing to talk? It was like all the blood and common sense had left your brain and was now currently residing in your throbbing clit.

“You know what, never mind. It’s not like I was going to look or anything. Just a suggestion. Forget I—”

“Okay.”

“What?” It was your turn to look at the man beside you in surprise.

“Okay,” Bucky repeated himself resolutely before stammering on, “I guess, I wouldn’t mind either if you, ya know.”

You nodded, turning your attention back to the screen. Neither of you moved at first, almost as if you were both afraid to be the first to take the other up on their offer. But then, the ache and need deep in your core began to overtake you once again as you watched the way the Bucky look-alike entered the woman slowly from behind as he bit her shoulder animalistically. Slowly, you lowered your hand down your chest and into your sleep shorts. At first you merely rubbed yourself through your panties, allowing yourself to press against your palm, letting the pressure give you some relief. You struggled to keep your breathing even, as you watched the two on screen pant and moan as they clung to each other, sweaty and wrecked. Your arousal was becoming so great, that the cotton material under your fingers was damp, molding to the outline of your folds. Eyes glued to the two gorgeous actors, you slipped your fingers below your last barrier and made contact with your wet sex.

A gasp escaped your throat as the pads of your fingers grazed your clit, the small bud swollen and sensitive. Bucky inhaled sharply in response to your small outburst. You stilled, embarrassed by the noise you had made and glanced over at Bucky as discretely as possible. Some of your embarrassment was dissolved when you observed the subtle movement of the blankets near Bucky’s groin. With a deep and steady breath, you turned your attention back to the movie and began to explore your folds. Dipping a single finger down, you collected some of your moisture and brought it back up, circling around your clit but not making direct contact. You teased yourself, building yourself as if you had all the time in world. The whole while, the weight of what exactly you were doing hung heavy in the air. You were in a bed with James Buchanan Barnes, your coworker and friend, watching a porno and masturbating. You’d never done anything like it in your life. No one had ever been present when you touched yourself. Even when you were in relationships. Equally so, you’d never been present when someone else masturbated. At least, not to your knowledge. It was such an intimate act. Intimate and incredibly taboo.

Before you knew it, your eyes were closed, and you no longer cared about the television screen in front of you. No, instead you allowed yourself to get off to the erotic scene around you. Bucky’s heavy breathing filled your ears, the small catches and strained noises he made spurred you on. That combined with the wet sounds from your centered had you so hot that it felt like you could combust at any moment. Reaching further down, you slipped a single finger inside of you and moaned lightly at the feeling, unable to stop yourself and really not caring at this point. It’s not like he didn’t know what you were doing.

Out of instinct, your legs spread, knees pulling up as you fingered yourself. That’s when it happened, your left leg made contact with Bucky’s bare thigh. Without thinking, you reached out with your left hand towards him, apologizing as your palm landed on his hip. You both stilled. Opening your eyes, you turned your head and met Bucky’s eyes.

“I…I um,” you struggled for words as you took in what you had just done. God, you had ruined it, “Sorry, I’ll—”

You went to finally move your hand away but were surprised when a cold metal hand locked around your wrist. You stared into the depths of Bucky’s blue eyes. He looked hungry, desperate, pleading. Licking your lips, you followed his silent command, pressing your hand back and firmer against his hip right where the material of his boxers met the exposed skin of his midriff. He closed his eyes with a shuddered breath and let his head fall back against the pillow. You stared at him for a few moments more, watching the way the blankets shifted as his hand moved up and down over his length beneath them. Eyes tracing his profile, you realized just how good-looking Bucky was. His features were a delicate mix of hard and soft, feminine and masculine. His plump lips were parted in pleasure and heavy breaths passed his lips as he continued to pleasure himself. A few moments passed before you realized that you had resumed your ministrations under the blanket. You had been so swept up in watching Bucky that you hadn’t realized just how much of a mess you were. The slick between your legs was so great, your hand was soaked, slipping easily inside of you and throughout your folds. Bringing your hand up, you rubbed your clit lightly. Your left hand clenched, fingernails digging into Bucky’s hip.

“Fuck!” Bucky moaned, his head pressing into the pillow behind him, “Do that again,” he growled, his eyes closed tightly. You did as you were told, digging your nails into the exposed skin on his hip as you rubbed your clit. The sounds he made were so delectable, so erotic. They spurred you on, your own quiet moans falling from your lips. If you could make him moan like that from touching his hip, you couldn’t imagine the type of noises he’d make if you touched him. Actuallytouched him. Feeling bold, you slid your hand down until you reached him. Cautiously, you pushed his own hand away until it was only you wrapped around his hard length. The gorgeous man lying beside you gasped at the feel of your hand.

“Oh my god. Fuck, god!” he moaned, reaching out grasp your thigh in pleasure. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thigh, spurring on your own arousal. You now understood why the feeling of your hand on his hip had turned him on so much. The feeling of someone so close, but not quite there as you pleasured yourself was thrilling.

Bucky’s whines and moans filled the room, growing louder and more desperate as you continued to stroke him. Up and down. Up and down. You continued to pleasure yourself, your own orgasm rising and building. But it wasn’t nearly as important to you as getting Bucky there. You wanted to be the one to get him there. You wanted to hear the sweet noises he made when he finally toppled over the edge.

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” he growled out the last ‘yes’, the sound deep and guttural and oh so delicious. It pushed you further towards your own peak, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t finish until he did. You needed it. You released him, reaching your left hand in between your legs before returning it slick with your own arousal. Faster, you stroked him, twisting your wrist and swirling around the tip with just the right amount of pressure. The lubrication from your sex making it easier. Bucky seemed to agree as every muscle in his body seemed to tense. His fingernail dug into the delicate flesh of your thigh, sure to leave indentations later. But you didn’t care because with a few more harsh pulls, he was cumming. The warm wetness of his released covered your hand, dripping down your arm.

“Fuuuuuck yes! (Y/N) oh my god,” exclaimed Bucky.

The sensation of his warm seed mixed with the sound of his release sent you over the edge. You tensed, fingers stilling over your clit as you rode out your own orgasm. Electricity shooting throughout your whole body as you spasmed and shook.

The two of your lay there, catching your breath before you finally extricated your hand from Bucky’s softening erection. You let it fall onto the mattress beside you, your body heavy and satisfied. Bucky’s hand remained on your thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly. Turning your head, you found him already looking at you, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

“So, can we make that a regular part of hotel porno nights?” asked Bucky, causing you both to let out small chuckles.

“Yes. It’s definitely part of the ritual now.”

Everything Tag List:

@caffiend-queen

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #avengers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #smut

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falsegoodnight · 4 years ago

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Hi Ris! First of all, I want to tell you that you are such an incredibly talented author and I enjoy your works so much. I'm curious as to how could you write a lot in short amount of time? I mean, can you explain a bit about how do you plan your fics, if that makes sense? Sorry to bother you, have a nice day❣️

hi!! ahh thank you so much!! i’m so glad you enjoy my fics! <3

so for your question, i got a bit carried away so i’ll be adding a cut so you can read more!

just a quick ramble:

first of all, i just want to say that there’s going to be people that write really quickly and people who take more time to write but that difference doesn’t have any holding over one’s worth as a writer or anything like that! in other words, there’s nothing wrong with taking your time when writing a fic/story so i hope you keep that in mind and don’t be too hard on yourself when you’re struggling! every writer is different - it’s the same as how some writers have tons of ideas and some only get a good idea once in a blue moon or how some writers can write dialogue or a different element of a story easily and others can’t. it’s just a characteristic and not a representation of your success/achievement!!

that little bit is hopefully unneeded but i wanted to include it just in case!!

anyways, even though speed is relative to your own person and it’s different for everyone - there are factors you can control!! and you’re right in that planning is one of them!! if you have a detailed outline (or basis for how the story is going to begin, progress, and then resolve at the end then you’re going to have less struggle when it comes to writing the story because you know what you’re characters are striving towards!! obviously, some writers don’t use outlines and i can’t speak for anyone because this is what’s worked for me but it has helped me a lot so if you haven’t tried an outline before, i’d definitely recommend doing it at least once!

i’ve talked about it before but my outlines tend to be super detailed!! once i get a basic idea of a fic, i like to delve as deep as i can into the characters/plot/world. the first thing i’ll do is type out my idea in full detail so i don’t forget anything important and so i can see it all in print. then i’ll usually make some character profiles for each of the main characters (usually just louis and harry but sometimes i’ll include small ones for side characters!!)

an example format:

louis:

- age:

- job/career: (if they’re in school or it’s a fantasy/paranormal then this could be something like ‘student, english major’ or ‘witch’)

- background/history: (everything important to the story but also a lot that’s not dhjdk)

- positive traits:

- negative traits:

- character growth: (if i want to include character development, i always write that down!!)

then i begin my scene list which is basically a numbered list of every scene that takes place in the story!! it’ll usually start with a beginning scene, maybe a few scenes i know will take place somewhere in the middle, and also the ending scene (which is typically one of the first things i figure out when outlining the story!) and as i get more ideas and dive deeper and deeper into the story, this scene list grows longer and longer! some scenes are more outlined than others depend on how self-explanatory or complicated they are!

it’s also important to note that outlines are fluid, in that you can tweak/change them anytime you want! even when you’re 3/4ths of the way through a story and you decide you don’t like the ending you initially had and have a better idea! i can’t count how many times i’ve changed things in the middle of the story!!

having a super detailed scene list helps me know exactly what’s going to happen in a scene so i can just write it instead of spending time trying to figure out what’s going to happen in this scene while i’m in the middle of writing it!

and if i’m writing a fantastical/paranormal world, then i also always write down every detail of the worldbuilding that i want to include in the story - but also a whole lot of information i don’t end up including! knowing your story and your world is KEY to writing something quickly!!

i could go way more in detail if you wanted but i won’t ramble this time!! if you want more insight into outlining, i’d be happy to do a longer post one day (i already plan on it actually - i’m just lazy haha) but basically, planning has definitely had a huge impact on my writing productivity!

it doesn’t work for everyone though!! so here are some other things that contribute to my productivity:

- finding as much time as possible to write

as a full-time student with a part-time job and other responsibilities and just a life in general, it’s difficult to find time to write! but i try my best to carve out even just ten minutes per day to write and when i get that time, i take advantage of it. i think we all know that there’s time in our days that we usually just let get away from us - whether that means scrolling through social media without actually retaining anything, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, or just sitting around and doing nothing - i’m not saying that’s a bad thing or anything (i do all three all the time) but i am saying that it’s possible to stop yourself from letting that time slip away and instead choose to channel it into getting down a few words! even if you only write eleven words, that’s eleven more than you had before!

it sounds a bit obsessive but here’s what i’ve been doing when i wrote my last few fics: waking up thirty minutes earlier every morning before class so i can start my day by writing (honestly this is one of my favorite things to do because it helps wake me up and also gets me feeling productive when i’m usually just groaning and complaining about exhaustion - ofc not everyone will be the same), staying up late to write on my phone while in bed (again, i have unhealthy sleeping habits so maybe this isn’t a good tip but the point is that i take advantage of free time hdjkdk), and my favorite thing to do to get out words quickly:

- writing sprints

this is honestly one of my favorite things to do whether it’s a ten minute sprint or an hour long one! just setting aside a time dedicated to getting as many words as possible on paper (don’t focus on whether they’re perfect, just write - everything else comes later!) is always beneficial to me!! i do this frequently!!!

setting goals also helps for goal-oriented people like myself!! well, goal-oriented and competitive people such as myself haha. i love a good challenge to reach a certain word count (or even a goal like finishing a certain scene!) so if you’re like me, this could help a lot!

- accountability

this one can relate back to the writing sprint/competition thing if you do a sprint with someone else (super fun!) and keep each other accountable!! you can even just tell someone close to you that you’re aiming for a certain word count in a certain time and then tell them to check in with you! the satisfaction of being able to tell this person that you succeeded rather than didn’t (once again, not that that’s a bad thing!) can be particularly motivating!

- incentives

again, if you’re someone like me who works on reaching goals and reaping rewards, then this could be really beneficial! rewards can be anything from candy (i used to let myself eat a sour patch kid for every 100 words i write and let me tell you, that really helped hdjkd) or letting yourself watch an episode of a show you want to see!! they can be big prizes for smaller chunks of words or small prizes for bigger chunks of words - it doesn’t matter!! just do whatever gets you motivated!!!

also:

- get rid of distractions

i use sites like blocksite to keep myself from getting distracted by things like twitter/tumblr/youtube so i can focus!!! they have things like passwords so you can’t deactivate the block so if you have someone around you that can put in a password to make sure you don’t get tempted, taking advantage of that when you really want to get some work in is always good!

this is also something i do for assignments and other things in day to day life so just a helpful resource in general!

---

yeah so those are my main tips for writing a lot - do keep in mind that i’m naturally ambitious and also that i enjoy (or enjoy the results of) doing all of these things (even the harder ones!!!) but that may not be the same for everyone!! and not everyone writes as much or me, or even wants to in the first place! and that’s fine!

the most important thing to do is to cater to what you want. the goal you’re aiming for, the progress you want to make, etcetera.

at the end of the day, progress is progress - no matter how miniscule it may seem to you!! and also, quality is always better than quantity in my opinion!!!

this is way longer than i intended but i really hope it helps even in the slightest and if anyone else that’s a writer sees this and wants to rb with their own input (or comment!), feel free!! <3

#asks #:)#writing advice #writing tips #my writing tips #to save

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black-streak · 5 years ago

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Hey I love your writing!! For a prompt how about a Timmari story where they keep meeting at a coffee shop and start dating. Then Mari gets a job at WE and finds out that Tim is a Wayne.

Oh! I love seeing your comments on my works! (and your username is 👌) this prompt was extremely fun and I ended up with a really cool premise imo considering it's only around 1000 words. If I didn't already have a long wip, I'd probably expand this a ton, so thank you so much for sending it in. Hope you enjoy!

~---~

Marinette never meant to become employed at Wayne Enterprises. Honestly, she's not sure anyone ever did, based on the stories her new coworkers shared with her upon her revealing that working there had been an accident.

They'd welcome her and ask how she came to find herself working in the office. From the moment she opened her mouth, nods of understanding and small knowing smiles came flooding her way.

So many saying they were down on their luck, taking odd jobs, even working for criminals when times were tough, just to put food on the table. Suddenly, like an angel of good omens, a business card passed by steady promising hands and a call later, they were working a stable job in a reputable company without fear of being laid off.

That… Was not quite how she came to be here, but they never let her get past the, "Completely by accident, I'm still not sure what's happening," so apparently surprise jobs were common in Gotham.

They were, however, taken off guard and even applauded her upon finding out exactly where she was stationed. How did someone like her end up with this position? Good question. She wishes she knew.

Sighing softly, she took her time heading up towards the up most floors, on a mission from her new boss.

Waiting on the elevator, she reminisced on her time in this wretched city thus far, trying to figure out how she ended up here of all places. She moved from Paris out of sheer need for change, sick of the overly safe, villainless streets. How does one act as a hero when there is nothing to be heroic about? Add on the money Fu passed along to her in accordance with her gaining guardianship of the miracle box plus selling the massage parlor he no longer had need for and it left her… well enough.

Setting up shop, she settled in quickly before reopening her commissions page and began working once more. It was around this time she met Tim, her now boyfriend.

The two had bumped into each other in the coffee shop down the way from her place, her newest haunt for sketching. Well rather, they bumped into each other numerous times on multiple days always at the same time and murmured soft, embarrassed apologies with light blushes and avoided eye contact. The usual barista began setting their coffee orders on a little table off to the side before their arrival instead of waiting for them to order and handing it off to them separately. Something about "shipping it" and needing the two to just "get on with it already".

This led to having regular conversations over their preferred beverages until eventually one had to leave, usually Tim. After three months of this dance, Cathryn, their barista, took the steering wheel once again and wrote a little message on his cup to just ask her out already. Three weeks in and she could not thank the barista enough. Her boyfriend was amazing.

It was around the time she first visited that particular coffee shop that she picked up a new love for creating fabrics and materials to incorporate into clothing. She began to look further into organic chemistry, using the information to help formulate new fabrics that were more durable, yet light and flexible. They quickly became a feature amongst her commission prices, allowing the truly daring to strike out and debut her newest materials in her stead.

Finally reaching the office she needed, she spoke briefly to a nice woman named Tam, who promptly walked over to the CEO's door.

"Miss DC is here with files for review and sign off."

"Now?" A familiar voice spoke up.

"Considering she is behind me, I would presume so."

"Did she mention which department?"

"She didn't."

A soft sigh, "Let her in."

Tam gestured her in with an amused, "good luck," closing the door behind.

"One moment please," he spoke, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. She stared in surprise for a moment, not entirely processing the situation. Finally she just shook her head and accepted her reality.

This might as well happen. Adult life was already so god damn weird.

"Take your time," she shrugged, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

His eyebrow scrunched up for a second in concentration only for him to snap to attention, surprise splashed across his features, "Marinette?"

"Morning Tim!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I suppose. Working. Guess this is a bit of a conflict of interest, huh?"

With a blink, he turned back to his computer and clicked through a few files, eyes scrolling the pages only to come to realization.

"R&D division. Direct assistant and secretary to Mr. Lucius Fox. Hired one week ago."

"Yup," she popped, completely unsure how else to react.

"I thought you were a fashion designer?"

"I am. Have my own business and everything. You're as confused as I am."

"Did you apply?"

"Nope."

"Then how- nevermind. I know how. Same way everyone ends up here. By surprise and random happenstance."

"Well yes, though I was under the impression I was being asked to create a suit for someone considering the email came through my site and not my personals."

His eyes seemed to twitch just barely. She got the distinct feeling he knew something she didn't. That was fine. He didn't even know her designer pseudonym yet. Speaking of them not knowing things about each other.

"I thought you said you were in the family business?"

"I am. Bruce Wayne is my adoptive father."

"Well okay then. On that note, Mr. Fox has requested your immediate attention on these files. He expects them to be returned to his office within the hour. The project will be underway in the meantime." She stated, falling back into work mode and dropping the stack onto the desk in front of him with great pleasure as his eyes glared at the paperwork.

"Not going to wait approval?" Tim asked.

"I've been assured that will be unnecessary. I may be new, but it's been made very clear to me. I only answer to Mr. Fox. You're more of a formality in this instance and will have no effect on my work."

He gaped at her before shaking it off with a laugh, "I assume Lucius himself told you as much."

"Pretty much."

"Of course he did."

"Still on for tonight?"

"If I get through the mess you just left me."

"You will. Only have an hour, remember?"

"I suppose we are then."

"Wonderful! We have so many new things to talk about," she stated, leaning in with a sly look before turning on her heel and sashaying out of the room, "See you later, Boss!" She called cheerfully on her way, cackling at his choked off response and violently red face.

Closing the door behind her, she met Tam's unimpressed, yet curious look, "What was that about?"

"Just found out my boyfriend works here!" She grinned, heading back to her own division to the sound of the Tam's gleeful laugh.

#timari #timinette #maribat #ml x dc #working on prompts sent in before the cut off #last two? i think will be put up tomorrow #what are timelines?#screw it Mr Fox and Tim as CEO can coexist

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kustovshik · 4 years ago

Text

Talking.

This post is informative in connection with a dispute that one of the parties decided to make absurd. If you don't want to get involved, just skip it. I don't force anyone to look into it or read it.

Kust is in touch. As many people have noticed, there was a small(not small now) conflict between me and a couple of other people, which could have already been eliminated, but was brought to total clowning. Names/nicknames named in this post will not be in order to avoid any negative towards those people. Also, no correspondence will be shown here, although they will be mentioned. If someone asks , I'm ready to go and personally collect all the screenshots of the two conversations, without losing any moments.

As a person in some way responsible for the current situation, I have a desire to illuminate everything from the side of my vision of things.

The conflict conditionally began three days ago. Let's call the person who initially had a small argument with me a certain person "A".

Well. in March. March 24th. We can assume that almost 5 months ago I published a post: https://kustovshik.tumblr.com/post/613504425335586816/i-want-to-be-in-fiars-stomach-he-looks-like-a

Many people remember it, I hope. I'll attach an old screenshot here just in case.

The whole conflict initially started because of the double meaning of the context behind the work itself. The problem, I was told, was the tags. Namely, in the tag highlighted in the screenshot above: ‘safe vore(or is it?)’.

This tag was originally put up there not because I didn't know what type of vore to call it, but specifically so that people themselves would sit and think: what do they want to see in my drawing. Simply put, a drawing with an open context. And it seems like no one has had any problems with it for few months.

That's what person A didn't like. I was told in a very unpleasant way for me personally that the person was very offended by this use of tags. And other problems with how they don't like 'fatal vore'. It was also suggested to me that I don't know about how fatal can be quite a painful experience for some.

I admit. My answer was quite abrupt. I can't deny it, and I won't, because that's the kind of person I am. My language is harsh on words and expressions. Instead of a thousand words and a selection of expressions, I usually tell people everything openly, or I am ready to openly indicate that something is wrong. Also, I fully admit that I have problems controlling my emotions, which makes it difficult for me to establish contact with strangers. I grew up in a different mindset, which is why I have a different view of many things. It's like putting two people who know the same language, but from different parts of the world, next to each other and forcing them to express their position on some moral principles or other things, and then wonder why their answers are different. A very exaggerated and crude comparison, but that how it looks like.

Why did I respond harshly? I am a rather rude person, and I do not like when people come to me in private messages, starting to talk about how bad they are feeling, because of things that can be safely ignored or blocked by them, so that there are no problems.

My first fatal mistake was when I decided to answer to "A". Afterwards, I talked to a couple of my friends and got cold feet. And then I apologized, trying to come to some compromise, adding the tag 'open ending' so that no one would be confused. But it seems that this was not enough, because “A” continued to say how it’s bad from what she found, even if not quite fatal stuff. Refusing to compromise in any way, as I suggested.

After that, we parted with apologies to each other, and neither of us wrote to each other again. I honestly thought it was over.

Now, before I go on to the man who has been driving me mad for the past two days, I will make a pure assumption and try to explain my indignation in a different way...

Out of human interest, I went through the 'safe vore' tag. Noted an interesting feature. Both tags had quite a lot of posts there. Namely, tags are 'safe vore' AND 'fatal vore'. Why did my post cause the problem? Have no idea.

Then another point became incomprehensible to me. How did a person get to this post at all? It would be difficult to find it through search, but you can: there is a lot of content by tag. I flipped the feed down from the second account for a long time and didn't come across my own post.

Then, in my little investigation, I looked into Tumblr's alerts. Likes, reblogs, well, you understand in short. And noticed it.

This is the first appearance of "A" in my notifications.

Hence, I dare to assume that "A" came across one of the reblogs of this post: https://kustovshik.tumblr.com/post/616227708116025344/a-new-player-has-joined-the-game And then "A" went to my blog, along the way ignoring the description specially written for such people at the very top of the blog, and came across my two-meaning post.

But after that, I had a rhetorical question: Why go to the blog of a person who has this written in the description, and hope that there will not be a fatal vore?

Of course, this theory is based only on my assumptions. But I think this scenario is quite real.

Thus, we can say that I have every right to be angry at the indignation expressed in my direction, because it is not my fault that the person ignored my preferences, scrolled down my blog page and started complaining.

Back to reality.

As you can understand, " A " shared our conversation with their friend, who the next day suddenly came to me with a long message about his position, offering help that was not needed.

Even then, I began to suspect that this person(let's call him "B") was somehow connected with "A". Moreover, the reason for the visit was the same for both of them.

I have already mentioned that I am an irritable and rather rude person. I was already stressed enough by the appearance of "A" and the consequences of my reflections that occurred after what I thought was an end to the conflict. And the repeated mention of the situation has already infuriated me.

I fully admit that I reacted very sharply to the "B" message. I had reasons for this that the other side chose not to consider.

Well. After receiving the message I gave sharp response expressing extreme dissatisfaction, but without insults to "B". Was there passive-aggressive speech? Yes. Were words said that I am not obliged to monitor the health of people who do not concern me? Yes. Do I have the right to think so? Yes. Does this fall under the moral code? It depends on the person's personal worldview.

Yes, I was rude due to the fact that on the second day I was exhausted and angry about this situation. I wanted to end this conflict and repeatedly asked both of them to block me and remain neutral. In addition, I tried to somehow explain that we are people of different mentalities and grew up with different life standards, so in this situation we see this conflict differently. Yes, in a rough way, but I tried to explain it.

I received a ton of direct insults, was accused of narcissism and high self-esteem, as well as refusing to take care of other people's problems. In addition, I received lines like, quote: "...but let me see you talk like you did to me or anyone else simply trying to converse with you over a serious topic and I will not hesitate to have your content and eventually your account removed from this site.".

Isn't this a direct threat?

I understand that passive-aggressive speech itself can offend someone. But you can't call it an insult. Passive-aggression is a hidden way of expressing negative feelings and emotions to a person. This is not an insult. But, Yes, I admit that this is a very harsh and rude way of communicating.

That's just after such an exchange of pleasantries, I snapped. 3 days of unquenchable conflict, when one side refused to listen to the other, at the same time. There were attempts on my part to end the conflict. There was one repeated request to block and disperse, so as not to inflame everything to the point of absurdity.

"Want to stay safe with your own preferences? "Please, God, don't touch me, that's all. Block me already and we will live in peace. "- This was the message of my answers. It's sad, but instead of just ending the conflict, I got the brand of a person with a capitalist mindset, the brand of a bitch-whiner, and other other charms.

And I swear that I was ready to just leave all this and stop responding to such outbursts in my direction, banal blocking "B", if they can’t themselves do it.

As here I get a notification with a post where this person changed my art / tags and basically uploaded the changed image to his blog, hiding behind good intentions. "B" did not receive permission for such actions. Even with an indication of authorship. I am most outraged by such actions at the moment.

Better look on the two images compared to each other.

And after that, everyone wants me to try to understand how bad I was and how poor they are, that from a simple argument that could have ended without even starting, it turned into an absurd clowning with offended people, insults and changing someone else's drawings and whole character reaction. Just a note. Fiar is not so nice, he’s a wild monster leech and he just grumbles about everything as much as he don’t understands why some people willing to let him eat them. He’ll never say something as “I’ll keep you safe”.

There it is. The comedy of a three days.

This post is for informational purposes only. Namely, how I see this situation.

All I want now is for "B" to delete the post, and for both sides to banal block each other, so that we never meet again.

I refuse to apologize to "B" for their latest act of outraging my drawing by completely distorting the meaning from a neutral drawing to something that only "B" and their friend like. In conclusion I can say, that I do not call myself a good one in that confrontation. I did some terrible mistakes while talking to both of those people. But it’s not only I’m here being on the bad side. People are not black and white.

After this I’ll not respond to any of the continuation of that conflict anymore. I’m tired of this.

#long post #Kust talking #trigger warning

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honney-boy · 4 years ago

Text

Wonder (Prologue)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Short series summary: Rudy never thought that the one app he uses the least would turn out to the app where he meets the most down to earth and a fantastic person. What first started out as conversations over text turn into a full-blown out road trip where they get to know each other. What was supposed to be a simple trip between two strangers turned into a simple trip with two friends…then it got complicated.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans

Words: 989

A/N: Okay, okay, this is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. Plus, others on the site write a 1000 times better so I don't expect to be praised for this. Like seriously, I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :) (these notes will be shorter in the future)

taglist

Zero | “It’s A Dating App At This Point”

“Excuse my french, but you’re being a douchebaguette.”

A controlled laugh - snicker echoed through the dimly lit room. The snicker was short until all you heard was the deep intake of breath before it was no longer a snicker but a hidden smile behind a blanket. The only source of light was coming from the tv mounted to the wall and a phone. Nevaeh was aimlessly scrolling through videos. Those videos' sound was muted because her focus was supposed to be on the television watching the show her roommate put on for them. The two of them ordered in - Nevaeh ordering the food after getting into her pajamas, and Birdie was deciding on the show. They agreed on Brooklyn Nine-nine; it was a Hulu type of night instead of the usual Disney+.

Ping!

Nevaeh's phone chimed once, not surprising her, but then it sounded three more times in a row after that. The inbox tab lit up with numbers. Clicking on her activity feed, spam of likes rolled in like a soccer ball on the field. The noise pulled her roommate's attention next to her; Birdie squinted her eyes and sent her friend a glare.

"You're not even paying attention. I knew it after you didn't laugh at Peralta's tomfoolery; you always laugh at that," she says, but Nevaeh didn't pay her any mind. "Vae, hello. Are you even listening?" Birdie gave Nevaeh's shoulder a push - nothing too hard, just enough to grab her attention.

“Huh? Shoot, sorry, I’m paying attention now,” Nevaeh flicked the button on the side of her phone, silencing it, then clicked the power button and turned toward the tv. Birdie, who tended to be techy, didn’t make a move to unpause to the screen. Her friend noticed and faced her friend-raising an eyebrow at Birdie’s reluctance. “Are you going to unpause it?”

Huffing, the blonde turned her body and unpaused the tv like nothing happened. Nevaeh shook her head and let her attention become encased with the comedy series. Her phone screen lit up, and looking down at her lap, sure enough, it was Tik tok again.

Someone liked your video!

Someone commented on your video!

She read the notifications to herself, tempted to check the app but didn't budge.

rudeth started following you!

"Who's that?" Nevaeh jerked with the sudden sound of Birdie's voice next to her. When she looked over to her side, the blonde shrugged her shoulders and leaned over more. "What? Your phone kept lighting up, so I wanted to know what had your attention. Thought it was some boy that was blowing your phone up."

"Well, it's creepy when you're quiet about your snooping - then the hovering over the shoulder thing." The brown-haired girl shakes her head and grimaces.

Birdie cackles, "Get over it, that's the point of snooping, to be quiet about it," She got up from her spot on the couch, taking her blanket she had across her lap and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'm your personal stalker, you know this."

"I do; how could I forget about my own peeping tom?" Birdie carried herself into the kitchen. She laughed again; her laugh grew quieter the further she walked into the kitchen. Nevaeh took the opportunity to check her phone to check out who spammed her with likes and comments. Birdie was making a lot of noise as she moved about in the kitchen. Her friend wasn't too far off with Nevaeh's phone. There were a few likes and comments from different individuals when looking through her feed, but the spam was from one person. She didn't know who he was. His profile picture was warped - that didn't help. His profile consisted of only one video, it wouldn't load on her phone, and there wasn't anything in the bio. So, this stranger was a stranger, but she had the odd urge to follow him; out of curiosity.

“Who was the mystery spammer?” her roommate called out and asked from the doorway of the kitchen before walking back to get comfortable on the couch.

“Some random guy,”

“Well, why’d you follow him?” Birdie spoke over her shoulder, spooking the girl again.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, which was sort of right. She was curious but didn’t know. She did it to be nice but didn’t know. She wan-

You have a new message!

“Oh my god, did that weirdo message you?” At this point, Birdie climbed over the couch and scooted close to Nevaeh. It almost made her laugh, but she just smiled.

“We don’t know if he is a weirdo yet…”

“Well, he followed you, then sent a message right after you followed back - “

“That isn’t weird,”

“He followed your Instagram and is probably spamming you there.”

“Maybe he wants a friend.” Nevaeh offered, trying to stick up for the stranger. Maybe it was a little weird, but Nevaeh would do something like that. She’s the type that would tell a girl how beautiful she was, even if she didn’t know her. Or ask complete strangers if they might want to be a part of a project she’s working on. Quite honestly, the woman hates strangers; it can get real awkward fast, but she’s working on being more affable. Easy to talk to if need be.

“Maybe he wants your attention,”

“Nevaeh gasped as her mind came to a conclusion, one Birdie wanted to know; her eyes snapped up to Nevaeh as she also looked at her. “Maybe he’s flirting.” Birdie rolled her eyes.

"It's a dating app at this point - well, open the damn message so we can find out." So she did. She went to her inbox, what the stranger's said appeared at the top. She could only make out a little of what the message said, but it was too long to not read without clicking the conversation window.

rudeth: Hey! One of your videos popped up on my fyp and I think...

➣ End Note:

So, I think you guys will love the Nevaeh and Birdie friendship duo. But look at that theres a little of Rudy this chapter and Birdie calling him a weirdo :P Wonder if she’ll call him that to his face.

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

No one so far but tags are always open!

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow x oc #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow series #wonder series #rudy pankow au #Outer Banks #outer banks netflix #roadtrip story #tik tok dating

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woodstockbtswriter · 4 years ago

Text

Voyagers

Genre: Fluff/Headcanon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.

Author’s Note: All I have to say is... please enjoy! And, if you do, let me know! Thanks! 💕

GIF Credit: MONOSUGA

Part Fourteen

Goodnight?

You’d hoped Yoongi would stay and talk more, maybe even offer a more thorough explanation as to why he kissed you out of nowhere

But he seemed embarrassed and anxious to retreat

So after shyly bidding you goodnight, he quickly moved toward his tent

Leaving you standing outside the camper van, feeling stunned

Unsure what else to do, you opened the door and climbed in

It was dark in the camper, and the boys inside were already settled in bed

But Hoseok spoke up when you entered, asking if it was you

You responded automatically as you slumped onto your bed, still in a daze

You heard a rustle and could just make out Hoseok propping himself up on one elbow, looking down at you from his high bed

He inquired if you were okay, and you were about to answer him

But then you remembered there were several GoPro cameras tucked into the corners of the camper

You quietly asked if the cameras were off, looking around for any tiny recording lights

Namjoon’s voice sounded from the back, confirming that he turned them all off a few minutes ago

Then he asked if everything was alright, too

“Yoongi kissed me…” You breathed

And you felt a renewed sense of excitement saying it out loud

As soon as the words left you, you heard a bump in the dark, then Hoseok cried out in pain

Jungkook’s laugh rang out from beside him, and you realized Hoseok sat up reflexively and hit his head on the ceiling

You, Namjoon, and Taehyung laughed too, and you asked Hoseok if he was hurt

Hoseok dismissed the question, saying he was fine as he hurried to climb down the ladder

Reaching the floor, he quickly moved to sit cross-legged beside you, grabbing both of your hands and holding them in his lap

Hoseok beamed at you, practically giddy, and urged you to tell him everything

Spilling the Tea

Namjoon flipped a small light on, and you saw him, Taehyung, and Jungkook all sitting up in bed, their faces shining with interest

You suddenly felt a little shy, but you knew everyone there cared about you and Yoongi, and wanted both of you to be happy

And you trusted the boys to keep anything you told them confidential

So you opened up, and told them the whole story

How you and Yoongi had been getting to know each other, and growing close

How Yoongi held your hand at the observatory, and in the hot tub

How he let you sleep on his shoulder, and rested his head on yours

How you stayed up talking the night before, and really connected

How the producers had noticed you spending so much time together, and requested that you participate with the other members instead

How Yoongi got the wrong idea, and thought you were avoiding him because you like Namjoon

And how when you promised him there was no reason for him to be jealous, he unexpectedly kissed you

The boys all grinned as they listened, and when you finished describing everything that happened, you expected they’d be surprised

But Taehyung said he wasn’t

He knew his hyung liked you, and could see there was something happening between you

Hoseok and Jungkook agreed, though they hadn’t expected Yoongi to make the first move, especially so soon

Namjoon was a little surprised Yoongi had been jealous of him though, and reassured you that he knew you were just friends

But all of the boys were excited for you, and happy that their hyung had opened himself up to you

You thanked them, saying you were really happy and excited too

And you shyly admitted that you really like - maybe even love - Yoongi

When you said that, Hoseok pulled you into a crushing hug

But you had to ask them if they thought his intentions were serious, if they thought he actually wanted a relationship

After a moment’s consideration, Jungkook stated he’d never seen Yoongi with a girlfriend

And Namjoon explained that dating had been a low priority for him since their debut, because he’d been focused on his career

But he was sure that if Yoongi met someone he was truly interested in, someone he genuinely connected with, someone who could convince him that a relationship was worth it…

Someone like…

You

Then he would adjust his priorities accordingly

Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook agreed, adding that they’d never seen Yoongi so comfortable, so open, so affectionate with anyone so soon

And he wasn’t one to waste any time or energy on something he didn’t plan to see through

So, based on the evidence they’d seen and how well they knew their hyung...

They felt confident promising you that Yoongi was definitely serious about you

Hearing their affirmations brought happy tears to your eyes, and Hoseok “aww”ed when he noticed, giving you another tight hug

Real Talk

You were so relieved that the other members confirmed your hope that Yoongi liked you

But knowing how he felt about you was only one part of the equation

Because before you started a relationship, you knew you had to consider what dating an international idol would really be like

So you asked the boys, not knowing when you’d get another chance to talk with them so candidly

A relationship with one of them would be hard, all four boys concurred

Besides the hectic schedules, endless workload, and constant traveling, there was extremely limited privacy, constant scrutiny, and immense pressure to maintain the right image

Some of which you’d already experienced

But, Namjoon encouraged, it wasn’t impossible

And he knew that Yoongi would give his all to make things work, and would care for you deeply

As long as you did the same

You appreciated the honesty, and thanked the boys for their insight and encouragement

Hoseok squeezed your hand, swearing that he and his brothers would be there for you and help you in any way they could

Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook all nodded, and you felt your eyes start to water again

Hoseok wiped your tears, chuckling, and suggested that maybe it was time for you to go to sleep

You reluctantly agreed, and Namjoon turned out the light as soon as Hoseok climbed back into his own bed

Then, slipping under your covers, you whispered another “thank you” and a “goodnight” into the darkness, and four voices softly answered “goodnight” back

The Morning After

The heat of the bright sun shining directly in your face woke you in the morning

You burrowed beneath your pillow, attempting to block out the light, but it was too warm inside the camper

Giving up, you kicked off your blankets and opened your eyes

Namjoon was already sitting up, and Hoseok was stretching in bed, his shirt lifting to expose his tummy

You’d slept fitfully and were still tired, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep anymore, so you decided to get up, too

Hoseok headed to the public bathroom to shower, and Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook went outside to give you privacy while you used the camper shower

When you were clean and dressed, you went outside and found Jimin making friends with two friendly dogs that had wandered into your camp

You greeted Jimin and the sweet pups, then joined Jin who was lounging in a camp chair drinking pumpkin sikhye

Jin offered you some, and you enjoyed a sip of the sweet rice drink

It was another beautiful, peaceful morning in New Zealand, and it was nice to take a moment to just relax and enjoy it

Then Yoongi appeared, freshly showered and dressed for the day, and your heart gave its usual excited response

He really needed to stop being so cute

Not making eye contact, he casually sat next to Jin and asked to try his drink

You offered Yoongi a “good morning” and a smile as Jin passed him the bottle, but he only nodded, pulling out his phone and starting to idly scroll through it

Feeling unsure, you sat in silence, the three of you sharing sips of the sikhye until it was gone

Then Hoseok returned from the showers, and Yoongi joined him as he squeezed espresso packets into water bottles to make instant Americanos

As Yoongi walked away, Jin looked at you, an eyebrow raised

Even though he wasn’t yet privy to every detail, he knew enough to be curious about what he just witnessed

You gave Jin a weak smile, not knowing what to tell him

You weren’t sure what was up either

Maybe Yoongi just needed his morning caffeine fix

Maybe after his coffee he’d be more friendly, you told yourself

But before you could think too much about it, the rest of the group gathered around and began preparing to leave

The activity for the morning was a helicopter tour, and everyone needed to ride in the SUV to get to the pickup site

In typical fashion, the boys wanted to play rock-paper-scissors to determine seating order

Jin elected to drive and Namjoon won the front seat

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook lost and had to squeeze into the third row

Which left you, Yoongi, and Taehyung in the second row

Yoongi climbed in behind the passenger’s seat, and Taehyung nudged you to sit in the middle, barely concealing his conspiratorial smile

Giving Taehyung a look, you slid across the seat, settling next to Yoongi, your shoulders pressed together

But he kept his gaze fixed out the window

And you felt a tiny twinge of doubt

The car was packed with all eight of you, but as you rode along, Jimin said that it was fun to be together in one vehicle

Your group had been divided between the camper and the SUV the whole trip, and even back home the members rarely rode all together anymore

The other boys agreed, and began reminiscing about sharing vehicles while filming past music videos

You always enjoyed hearing them discuss their memories

But you were distracted as you sat between Yoongi and Taehyung, pulling your shoulders and knees together to make yourself as small as possible

Yoongi was acting normal with the others, talking and joking, but he’d yet to interact with you directly

And you couldn’t help but wonder why

Was Yoongi being shy and awkward because he kissed you last night and now he didn’t know how to act around you?

Or was he regretting kissing you…?

You forced the thought from your mind

No, you were probably reading too much into things

You were just letting your insecurities influence you

There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for his sudden change in behavior

You’d had a good reason for acting similarly the day before, afterall

But whatever it was that was inhibiting him, you hoped it wasn’t going to last all day

Because honestly…

You weren’t sure you could stand another day not being close to him

Previous - Next

Taglist: @bucky-thorin-winchester @yvemoon @serpentiinequeen @neilpoetssociety @narcissism-iskey

#bts #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #suganetwork #hyunglinenetwork #bts bon voyage #bts headcanons #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts suga #bts imagines suga #bts fluff #bts fics #bon voyage season 4

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nialledfromfics · 5 years ago

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The Dating Game | Chapter Nine

The door closed. Niall stood motionless, his blue eyes transfixed to the painted wood panelling half expecting it to open again and for her to rush back through and jump into his arms like she had many times before. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He knew that beautiful, wistful, carefree part of their story was over. More over than he had failed to realize. His chest rose high with his quickened breaths and he swallowed hard, not wanting the slow blink of his glassy stare to move off of the door. His mind tried to rattle around the single thing that sparked the very reaction he couldn’t escape from: the look on her face.

He didn’t understand why she had looked so defeated, so anguished upon seeing Lila, maybe she was just shocked. He would have been too, he decided. He had been, many times. But that still didn’t explain to him, why. Her gorgeous light brown eyes peering up at him, wide and with a hint of sadness that Niall had only seen one other time over the course of their friendship. It felt like his heart was breaking all over again.

“Are you ready to go?”

Breaking him from his thoughts, Lila ran her touch down the center of his back. “Uh...yeah,” he sputtered.

The girl smiled at him. “That was Joey, huh?”

Niall pulled in a sharp breath. “Yeah.” His stare hadn’t left his closed front door, his jaw clenching slightly as he felt Lila’s fingers intertwine with his.

“She’s pretty.”

His eyes snapped over to the girl standing next to him, his lips just barely falling to a part. “Yeah,” was all he could muster in response.

Lila huffed out a short chuckle. “So what did she want?”

With his stare sliding back over to the door, Niall briefly shook his head. “I...dunno, to be honest…”

“Hmm...weird,” Lila mumbled as she shifted her body to stand right in front of Niall. His blue eyes, their entanglement with the closed door interrupted, locked with hers. “We should get going now so we’re not late.”

He tipped his head down slightly, running his hand through his hair and down the side of his face in a faint sigh. “Yeah…” he mumbled, a half smile pulling at his lips before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth, “yeah, sorry, babe. Let’s go.”

•

Of course he would be dating her. She was exactly who Joey had always pictured as his type. Irritatingly gorgeous with perfect bone structure and pore-less skin, beamingly white teeth and that model-slim body shape. She was athletic and perky in all the right places with not one ounce of body fat to be seen. Her hair was perfect, her smile, her nails, her clothes…

She was blonde, stunning and looked like she had stepped straight out of a damn magazine centerfold.

Lila was everything Joey wasn’t. And on top of that, she had him.

If Joey hadn’t felt like the biggest fool to walk the earth before, she definitely did after meeting Niall’s new girlfriend. The entire following week was spent cursing herself out for being so deluded into thinking he had even a fraction of feelings for her, and trying her hardest not to stalk Lila’s Instagram every five minutes like some kind of masochist. She had called Alexis on her way home from Niall’s house, tears streaming down her face, her voice cracking with the inability to stop crying enough to choke out how dumb and ridiculous she had been to even show up to his place like that. By the time she arrived back to her usually empty and lowly apartment, she had her best friend, her brother and his girlfriend there waiting to cheer her up. It was an unexpected welcome, and they spent the evening drowning Joey’s problems in cheap beer and greasy pizza and laughing until their cheeks hurt and they could no longer breathe. It was a nice distraction.

But the next morning Joey woke up to a text from Niall. And another later that night. And then again the following morning. She received 10 texts from him within that week. And Joey ignored every single one. She felt stupid and embarrassed and even if she were to answer him, what was she going to say? She couldn’t pour her heart out to him like she had planned, she couldn’t tell him how the thoughts of him kept her up at night and how badly she wanted to kiss him over and over and how no matter what...she could not get him out of her head. Joey couldn’t do that, and it wouldn’t be fair if she did. He was obviously with someone else, he had feelings for someone that was not Joey and she just needed to accept that.

But that didn’t mean she had to like it. It also didn’t mean she had to talk to him. Or see him. Or be around him.

Joey wasn’t sure she could ever be around him as long as he was with Lila.

It took another few days for her to really get a footing on the situation, and to come to terms that Niall actually had a girlfriend, and that person wasn’t her. Joey was jealous, she was a big enough girl to admit that, and she was heartbroken but most of all, she was beyond humiliated. How on earth she could have thought that someone like Niall would ever be into or want to be with someone like her, was enough crazy to send her to the looney bin. She was, once again, right back to square one.

Alone.

Taking what had happened to her over the previous six weeks as a sign, Joey decided to just let Niall do his thing, and she would do hers. It was well into springtime and the summer season was quickly creeping up on everyone, school would soon be out, and Joey thought her best bet was to immerse herself into her work and her students for the last couple months, and forget about everything else.

The following five weeks breezed by. Well, as much as it could breeze by when the only thing on Joey’s mind was the one thing she was trying not to think about. But she powered through, focusing on getting her kindergarteners ready for the first grade, spending some needed time with her bestie and giving her love to the only one who really deserved it; Sadie. Niall had stopped contacting her by the third week of Joey not responding to his texts and calls and while it did make her heart hurt to read over his pleas of wanting her to answer him, she knew it was for the best that she didn’t. At least not at that time. It was too fresh, like picking at an unhealed scab to just reopen the gnarly wound. Joey knew it was the right thing to do. But that didn’t mean it didn’t send her heart racing and make her knees weak and have that knot tie in her tummy every time she saw his name pop up on her screen. Because it did, every single time.

It was only a couple days later that Joey got hit with the most gut wrenching thing that could happen to her in this kind of situation: paparazzi pictures.

And not just any paparazzi pictures; lovey, cutesy, vomit-inducingly sweet kissing paparazzi pictures. Had she not been standing in the middle of the coffee shop’s line waiting to order, innocently scrolling through Instagram when she was assaulted with the shots of them, she probably would have screamed bloody murder and thrown her phone against the wall. But as she clicked on the post of some random celebrity gossip site, flicking through the two full sets of photos, she could feel the sweat beading up along her hairline and the heaviness invading her heart. Holding hands, his arm around her shoulders, his lips pressed to hers. Her hands on his face, on his chest, curling into the back of his dark hair.

Joey swallowed hard and she tried to resist, tried to tear her eyes away from the pictures, but she couldn’t. Her fingers were trembling, almost losing grip on her phone and the noisy space around her dissipated into a long drone of static as her mind jumped back to when she had felt Niall that way. Touching his pretty face, his toned chest. His arms around her, his big hands wrapped around her body as he held her tight. His warm breath against her ear, his soft skin pressed to hers. Easing her eyes closed, Joey quickly turned off her phone and dropped her arm down to her side. She could feel her chin start to wobble as the faint sound of her name being called out waved over her ears. It took another minute before Joey peeled her eyes open to see the barista repeatedly calling out her name, a puzzled look on her face.

Sucking in a jumbled breath, Joey threw her shoulders back and plastered on a smile, stepping up to the counter to retrieve her coffee order.

She didn’t mention the paparazzi pictures, or her reaction to them, to anyone. Not even Alexis. And her blonde friend knew better than to bring them up even if she had seen them. Joey was very grateful for that.

Not more than two weeks after Joey had been visually assaulted, she was curled up on her couch watching tv late one Saturday night with Sadie in her lap and her second glass of merlot, when a text came through her phone. Assuming it was Alexis sending her some useless Facebook link or her brother with another dumb meme, Joey mindlessly picked her phone up from the couch cushion beside her and glanced down at the screen.

N: Hey stranger

Her heart skipped three solid beats, her phone dropping into her lap and onto Sadie’s backend, making the little dog jump. “Sorry,” Joey managed to say, giving the pup a pet as she rested her head back down. Picking her phone back up, Joey pulled in a slow steadying breath, her hazelnut eyes flicking about her darkened living room for a moment before she decided to go ahead and shoot him a text back.

The first one in nearly 2 months.

J: Hey.

N: Holy Shit . . you answered me hahahaha

J: Lucky day, I guess.

There was a slight pause from Niall after Joey’s last text, and she thought maybe she was coming off a bit too harsh. She clearly didn’t hate Niall, in fact it was the total opposite, but it was like every time she even saw or heard his name, she pictured him with her. Him kissing her and touching her and it drove her absolutely insane. Joey swallowed hard as she stared down at the lit screen, watching those three little text bubbles flickering…

N: I miss you .

And there it was. Three words that Joey was dreading but also yearning to hear. She was so confused, so entirely fucked up from the entire situation, she wasn’t even sure what she was doing anymore. All she knew was that reading those words from him made her chest tighten and her fingers go numb and her skin bleed with a heat that could melt a glacier. Swallowing hard, Joey bit at her lip as she carefully constructed her next text.

J: Did you need something?

She was not about to let him know the hold he had on her.

N: uh haha yeah. . I just wanted to let ya know Im havin an album wrap party this Saturday and i really really want ya to be there .

N: Please , if you can

J: I don’t know. I might be busy.

N: Okay . Its at my place at 7 if you decide ya wanna stop by .

Joey thought for a moment, her teeth sinking further down into her bottom lip.

J: Can I bring someone?

There was another slight pause, almost as if Niall wasn’t sure how to answer or what she really meant by ‘someone’, and Joey’s stare drifted over the screen as she waited to see what he was going to say next.

N: Yeh , sure. Bring anyone ya want .

J: Okay. I’ll think about it.

And that was it. He didn’t respond, and Joey puffed out a long sigh and tossed her phone to the coffee table.

That was unexpected.

•

Joey immediately decided that there was no way she was going to go to Niall’s album wrap party. There was no way she was going to be able to hang around his house with people she barely knew, and watch him being lovey and cute with his perfect girlfriend. It sounded like pure torture to her.

But somehow, some way, Alexis had talked her into going. She promised that it would be good for Joey, it would help her heal and move on, confront the situation head on instead of hiding from it and pretending it didn’t exist. Joey knew she had a point. Alexis offered to go with her, to not once leave her side and if at any moment that things got too weird or too hard for Joey to deal with, they would leave. And Joey agreed.

That Saturday came without a hitch. The nerves surging through Joey, however, were as prominent and irritating as ever. It took her nearly two hours to just pick an outfit, something she usually had no issue with and it almost made her angry at herself for caring so much about what she looked like when obviously Niall didn’t care in the least. After applying her makeup, blow drying her hair into soft waves, and fussing endlessly with the tiny hairs that wouldn’t cooperate, Joey was finally ready to go.

Walking out into her living room where Alexis was waiting, Joey heard a low whistle come from the blonde. “Damn, girl,” she remarked, “you planning on sending this man to his grave?”

The girls both giggled and Joey looked down at her outfit. She didn’t seem to think she was that dressed up, but a pair of skin tight white ankle jeans, a low cut beige wrap blouse that showed off her ample cleavage and a bit of her midsection, finished with a pair of heels obviously was doing her lots of favors.

She smiled at the thought and peered back up at her friend, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Guess we should go get this party started, huh?”

•

Her anxiety only escalated the closer they got to Niall’s place. Her hands slowly rolled into tight fists in her lap as she stared out of the passenger side window of Alexis’ car. Her heart was pounding, like an annoying uneven beat of a drum in the back of her ears, as a dryness crept to the back of her throat. Joey nibbled at her lips, any trace of her lipstick long gone by the time they had pulled up to the front gate. There were at least two dozen cars parked along the main road, Alexis managing to squeeze her Toyota Corolla next to an old tree. Taking in a settling breath, the two friends climbed out of the car and started to make their way up the street to his house.

By the time they stepped into his kitchen, there were already at least forty other people spread throughout his house and outside, drinking and chatting and laughing. Music was blasting through the integrated speakers, Niall had his large patio doors swung all the way open onto his pool terrace and down by his grill and picnic area which was all perfectly aglow by hanging lights. There was wine, beer and liquor arranged along his kitchen table and the two young women had just shuffled over to help themselves to a beverage, when Niall walked up.

Joey didn’t even have to look up to know he was right beside her. She could sense him, and even though he wasn’t standing super close, she could feel the heat radiating from his body and the burn of his eyes on her, and the distinct scent of his skin. The air stuck thick to the back of her throat, trapping any kind of ability to function normally with it, as she slowly looked over at him.

“Hey, Jo,” he said, a sweet smile tugging at his lips. She hadn’t heard his voice in two months, but the low gritty baritone slid like warm caramel over her ears and made her knees just as weak as ever.

Joey breathed out a smile in return, lowering her stare for a moment as she nervously reached behind her neck to sweep her red hair over her one shoulder. It was Niall’s turn for his knees to go weak. “Hi, Niall,” Joey replied, glancing back at him.

“It’s been awhile,” he went on, clearing his throat as he dragged his stare down the length of Joey’s body. “You look...really good.”

She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “So do you.” His gaze was intoxicating, searing like lava into hers the longer they stood there, still and wordless. They just stared. Soaking each other in, relishing in the silent scorching heat that wafted between them, not sure what to say or what to do next. Alexis had grabbed a beer, quietly sipping on it as she stood off to the side of them and curiously darted her eyes back and forth between the two. Then Lila stepped up.

Swallowing hard as her stare shifted over to the blonde that was slipping her hand into Niall’s, Joey shook herself out of the trance she had succumbed to. “This is my best friend, Alexis, by the way,” she said, introducing her friend to Niall.

Niall looked over at Alexis and promptly stuck out his hand for her to shake. “Sick! I’ve heard a lot about ya,” he stated, “glad you could come.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” she replied with a smirk.

Niall pointed a finger at Lila. “Eh, this is my, uh...this is Lila.”

“Yeah,” Joey spoke up, “we’ve met.”

Lila nodded her head. “Yeah, we have.” The girl turned her attention to Niall, holding his hand in both of hers as she gently pulled on his arm. “Can you get me a drink, babe?”

“Sure,” Niall replied, tugging his hand away from her grasp as he stepped just past Joey and grabbed a stemmed glass from the table, pouring his girlfriend a drink. “Would you guys like a drink?”

Alexis held up her beer bottle and Niall glanced at Joey over his shoulder. She shook her head. “I’m okay for now, thanks,” she mumbled.

“Alright,” he said to Joey, stepping back over to hand Lila her glass of wine. “Well, there's plenty of stuff to drink as ya can see, and tons of food, we’re grilin’ out and shit so...please just have fun. Enjoy yourselves.”

Joey nodded lightly, giving him a soft smile. Niall reached out and gently rubbed over her upper arm. “It was good to see ya, Jo,” he went on softly, “I’m glad ya came.”

“Me too.”

Niall licked over his lips and stuffed his hands down into his shorts pockets, Lila whispering a whiny ‘babe, let’s go outside’ as she clutched his bicep and proceeded to pull him away.

The two friends watched as the blonde led Niall out to the open terrace, forcing him to engage in conversation with a small group of people. “Well, she's an insufferable bitch,” Alexis scoffed, taking a sip of her beer.

Joey pushed a shaky breath past her lips, and rolled her eyes as she twisted her head to the side, glancing at her friend. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.

Swinging her arm up around her friend's shoulders, Alexis leaned in slightly. “Just don’t let either of them see that it’s getting to you,” she said, her voice low as she held her beer bottle close to her lips, “let’s just…forget about them, get some drinks and have fun being in this big ass house with all these people who are way cooler than us.”

Joey chuckled, dropping her head in her hand for a moment. “You’re right,” she admitted, looking back over at the blonde who took another big swig of her beer, “let’s get wasted.”

“That’s my girl!” Alexis cooed, tugging her friend over towards the table full of alcohol.

•

After a couple of hours, and about three drinks in, mostly everyone had moved out onto the picnic patio area. Niall had hired a chef to grill and prepare a plethora of foods, while all the guests hung out and drank and had a good time. Joey tried to keep her mind open, she had tried to keep her eyes off of Niall and Lila but as the night drew on, it got harder and harder to ignore them. Alexis had taken off somewhere to converse with some partygoers, leaving Joey standing alone near the sliding doors and taking small sips of her expertly made margarita as her eyes stayed glued to the couple. Niall was sitting at the end of the cushioned bench of his huge patio table, his head tipping back in his loud but infectious laugh with a smile swept over his entire face as Lila sat perched happily in his lap.

Joey couldn’t help herself but to stare, wondering and wishing, the knot in her tummy clamping tighter every time Lila leaned in and brought Niall into a kiss. She watched as his big hand gripped around her hip, holding onto her so she wouldn’t fall, and by the fifth time Lila had her arms tangled around his neck, her tongue slipping past his lips, Joey just couldn’t deal with it anymore. The jealous heat had found its way to her cheeks, a sick feeling bubbling up from her stomach and she pushed out a groan, stomping her way inside.

Niall had heard her. Niall had seen her. He had peeked up at the red headed girl that was standing by herself near his sliding glass doors, more than once while he had been sitting there uncomfortably engaged with the girl in his lap. He could feel the undeniable tension in her gaze, the slight scowl that was sitting on her pretty face as her stare stayed focused on him and it wasn’t until he opened his eyes, Lila’s lips still pressed firmly to his, that he saw her storm off inside his house.

Excusing himself and leaving Lila sitting at the table, Niall made his way inside in search of Joey. She had found her way into the main living room, the only room that was quiet and a bit further off from the bustle of the party. Her eyes had eased closed as she frantically paced in front of the massive open windows by the end of his grand piano. She was trying to settle her breaths, trying to fight off the urge to want to vomit but also break down in tears and she was so overwhelmed and fixated on the thoughts whipping around in her mind that she didn’t even hear Niall walk in.

“Jo...what’s wrong?”

The sound of his voice ripped her from the jumbled mess inside her head and her feet halted on the wood floor. Looking over at him, she saw the concern written across his face. His brows pulled in, his lips parted slightly. He was standing but ten feet away from her, but it felt like he was so close that she couldn’t properly breathe. But there was no way Joey was about to tell him anything that she was feeling. “Nothing,” she blurted out, shaking her head as she began to pace again, “nothing, I’m perfectly fine.”

Niall chuckled. A more nervous reaction than not. “You don’t seem perfectly fine.”

Joey felt a piercing anger start to over take the misery. “Really, Niall?” she shouted, her feet once again coming to a stop as she darted her stare with his. “How would you even know how I seem? I haven’t even spoken to you in over two damn months.”

Niall was taken aback by her outburst, his face scrunching up at her words. “And whose fuckin’ fault is that?” he snapped back.

“Excuse me?”

“Give me a fuckin’ break, Jo, I have tried to call ya, to text ya, to fucking see ya and hang out and I got nothin’ back,” he told her, holding his palms up as he spoke. “You’ve been the one ignorin’ me every single time I’ve tried.”

“No, I haven’t.” She lied.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Jo? Jesus, I had to practically force ya to come tonight, to me own wrap party. I’m surprised ya even showed up at all.”

Joey crossed her arms over her chest in a huff. “As if it even matters that I came…”

“It does fuckin’ matter!” Niall yelled, his voice rising louder than Joey had ever heard from him. She lifted her eyes back to his, watching as he shook his head in disbelief at her. “This is a big deal for me, Jo and I wanted ya to be here, okay? I wanted to celebrate with ya.”

Joey flicked her eyes away from his, turning her head to rest her chin on the round of her shoulder. “You don’t need me here, Niall,” she said quietly.

Furrowing his brow, Niall pushed out a sigh. “What would ya say that?”

“Because you have Lila.”

“What?” Niall said, bowing his head to rake his fingers through his dark hair. His mind was reeling, any words that came to his head were instantly stuck on the tip of his tongue. “What-...what does Lila have to do with anythin’?”

Turning her face back to his, Joey caught his stare. Her brown eyes dragged over the gorgeous blue of his, and she stood silent, her jaw twisting as she pulled in a heavy breath. “Jo…” Niall desperately urged, his voice straining his throat and his brows raising as she remained quiet, “what the fuck does Lila have to do with us?”

“Nothing,” she finally said, fluttering back the wetness that was forcing its way to the brims of her eyes, “she has absolutely nothing to do with us.”

Her words spit out harsh, like rusty barbed wire cutting through exposed flesh and Niall was left stunned, his mouth hanging agape and his head ready to explode with confusion as Joey rushed past him and right out of his front door.

•

What in the hell was she thinking?

Alexis, who had caught the very last of their little argument, along with nearly everyone else at the party, ran after her friend, trying her very best to calm Joey down as they hopped into the car and drove back to Joey’s apartment. Dropping her off, Alexis was willing to stay with Joey, to talk or just hang out so she wouldn’t be alone, but the young woman told her good friend that she was okay, she just needed to be by herself that night. The past three months had been one humiliating disaster after another, and at that point, she didn’t even want to think about it anymore. Curling up in her bed with her little sidekick and a crappy tv show playing in the background to drown out the busy noises in her head, was all that she wanted.

An hour after Joey had changed into a pair of tiny cotton shorts and an oversized worn sweatshirt, she had settled down in her mound of cozy blankets with Sadie. She had dimmed all the lights and was flipping through the tv stations to find anything decent with just the flickering white glow of the screen glinting across her bedroom walls. A faint knocking sound made Sadie’s ears perk up, alerting Joey who, at first, brushed it off and assumed it was something on the tv that made the little dog react that way. But then there was another louder knock that made both of their heads turn towards Joey’s open bedroom door.

Creasing her brows, the redhead clambered out of her bed in an annoyed groan, Sadie right at her heels already barking as they both shuffled into the main living area over to the front door. She slowly eased it open, half expecting the person on the other side to be Aleixs coming back by to lovingly force company upon her, but it wasn’t.

It was Niall.

Her eyes met his, and for a moment she found it hard to breathe, hard to pull herself away, but then she remembered how upset she was, that she was hurt and mad at him. Mad at herself. He didn’t say a word, and Joey just watched as his heavy lidded stare dropped to the ground at their feet. His back swelled beneath his linen shirt as he pulled in a long breath, and for some reason it irritated Joey and she pushed out another groan, cocking a hip out. “What do you want?” she snipped.

Niall glanced up at her, his brows wrinkling slightly at her tone as he licked across his lips. “I wanna talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Niall.”

It was Niall’s turn to get irritated. “That’s some bullshit right there, Jo, and ya know it,” he grumbled, darting his stare over hers. The red haired girl rolled her eyes in haste and spun around, shuffling further into her apartment. Niall took the invitation and followed her inside, easing the door closed behind him. Sadie was already at his feet begging for a pet and Niall glanced down at the precocious little dog for a split second before he trailed after Joey into her semi-dark living room, only illuminated by a small lamp in the corner. “Why did ya have a go at me like that? And then storm outta me house all pissed off?”

Joey crossed her arms over her chest, peering down at her toes to watch as she curled them into the fibers of her living room carpet. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she quietly detested.

“I wanna talk about it, Jo.”

The frustration and pettiness was boiling inside her and it was as if she would implode at any second. She just didn’t see the point in having this conversation with him, it wouldn’t change anything. But she gave in. Because it was Niall, she gave in. And she was not happy about it. “Fine!” she fumed between slightly gritted teeth. “You wanna talk about it? Then tell me, why did you send me those flowers?”

Niall questioningly peered at her out of the corners of his eyes, his hands perching on his hips. “What?”

“The flowers, Niall,” Joey repeated, darting her light eyes over his, “like...two and a half months ago, you sent me flowers while you were in London.”

Niall’s face softened as he realized what she was referring to and he let out a long sigh, reaching up to comb his fingers through his hair. “I...I dunno,” he stuttered out, catching Joey’s stare again. “I was tryin’ to be nice. You’d just gone through hell with that fuckin’ idiot and I didnt like the thought of you feelin’...alone or-...or sad or whatever.”

“So they were pity flowers...” Joey scoffed, turning her head slightly to coax her eyes on anything but his. She fought to keep her chin steady as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“No,” Niall quickly argued, “no, I was tryin’ to show ya I was thinkin’ about you. That I-...I care.”

Glancing back over at him, Joey pursed her lips tight. “That you care…,” she mumbled with a shrug, “right, okay.”

Niall shook his head as he struggled to comprehend anything that was happening. He could tell that Joey was obviously upset with him, but he still had no clue as to why she was so upset. Taking a small step towards her, Joey averted her stare but Niall kept his eyes on her, his brows lightly wrinkling. “Now I’m really fuckin’ lost, Jo,” he said, his voice noticeably softer, “why are ya askin’ me about the flowers?” Joey remained quiet, lowering her head as she clamped her arms tighter across her chest. “Jo…” Niall went on, raising his brows at her demeanor, “why did you think I sent the flowers?”

Joey glanced up at Niall for a split second, enough to cause a rush of emotions to crash through her entire body before she eased her eyes closed and sunk her teeth down into her bottom lip. Really it was the only thing she could do to hold in the words that were sitting like a ticking time bomb on the tip of her tongue. She knew exactly why she thought he sent the flowers, she knew exactly what she wanted–needed–to say to Niall, and she struggled with wanting to let all the words flow like a burst dam that had been holding on with just a tiny crack in its foundation, or swallow it back down and keep it to herself forever. She wasn’t sure how he would react to any of it, and that was her fear, and what was holding her back.

Niall took another tiny step closer, the blue in his eyes becoming darker and filled with more perplexity the longer he stared at her. He swallowed hard. “Jo…”

“Because!” Joey snapped, finally meeting his gaze again as she held out her hands to him, “ ‘cause...I thought you liked me, okay?”

The words tumbled off her tongue like a slippery stone that you couldn’t get your grasp on, no way to control it and Joey’s eyes went big, her mouth hanging open as her outburst hung idly in the silent air between them. Her chest was heaving, her breaths so quick she had started to feel lightheaded and all she could do was dart her eyes over Niall’s as she forced herself to choke out the rest of what she needed to say. “And...and that day, the day that I stopped by your house and was going to tell you something?” she paused, looking for the change in Niall’s expression that confirmed to her that he remembered. “You were...you were there with her, this...perfect blonde gorgeous model who was fucking all over you, and of course I end up being the complete idiot that was going to run over there and confess all my feelings to you and pour my heart out like you would even care in the slightest–”

“...wait–”

“...but no, I’m just that big of a fucking dumbass to think you could ever have those kinds of feelings about me.”

Joey pushed out a long breath upon finishing her rant and she half expected Niall to start laughing, or even to say that she was being ridiculous and walk out. But he didn’t. Niall, instead, just stood there facing Joey, his eyes dragging over her features with his jaw hanging open as her words floated breezily through his ears like a lost melody he had been dying to hear his whole life. His heart was pounding in his chest and his knees nearly buckled under him as he tried to regain his sense of what had just flown out of her mouth. “Jo…” he whispered, his tongue shakily running across his lips, “you...had feelings for me?”

Joey rolled her eyes, a low breath hissing past her lips. “Niall, why do you think I’ve spent the last two months trying to avoid you?” she told him, furrowing her brow. “Because every time I see you, I see you with her and it fucking kills me, I just...I can’t do it. And I tried tonight, okay, I tried for you ‘cause I miss you and I really wanted to be there for you and I thought I’d be alright,...but...seeing her all over you, I–” Her voice waned as her words cut short and Joey peeked down at the floor as she carded her fingers through her red hair and swept it over her one shoulder.

Niall fell quiet again, his stare searching over her face, bathing himself in each beautiful little nuance of her that he could. But then it hit him, like a ton of bricks it hit him. Why she was so upset, why she had run off, why they were having that very conversation at that very moment and an alleviation instantly poured over him. “...you still have feelings for me.”

“Niall, even if I did,” Joey paused and shook her head, watching as she nervously picked at the edge of her fingernail. “What would it even matter?”

“It does matter.”

Joey shot her stare up to his, her head tipping to the side. “Why? Why would it matter if I still have feelings for you?”

A gentle smile tugged at the one corner of his mouth. “ ‘cause I still have feelings for you.”

Her heart stopped. Her chest tightening as her lungs twisted like rope around her breaths and it was all Joey could do but keep herself from succumbing to the dizziness that was filling her head. “What?” she sputtered, her brows folding in.

Niall pressed his eyes closed for a moment, taking a few steps closer to the girl standing before him. Gathering the words he wanted to say, he stuffed down the nerves that were raging through his body and finally peered back up at her, trapped by the sparkling light in her eyes. “Joey, I’ve had feelings for you since the first night we met. The second I laid eyes on ya...Jesus Christ,” Niall paused, rubbing over the back of his neck before he continued, “but I never thought ya saw me that way. You were always goin’ on all these dates, and even that night that I stayed over here with ya after your break up...you just kept tellin’ me how you felt so lucky to have me as a friend...and it broke me, Jo.” Niall swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly as he glanced down at the floor. “I knew after that, that I didn’t stand a chance to be with ya and it’s why I left. I couldn’t be where you were. I had to get away.”

Joey let her stare slide over Niall, every heartstring tugging inside her the longer she immersed herself in his words. “I-...Niall, I don’t even know what to say,” Joey finally spoke up, “this whole time you’ve had feelings for me and I’ve been...going on and on about my stupid love life and other guys with you...why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I gonna say, Jo?” Niall faintly chuckled, darting his eyes with hers, “I knew how you felt, or at least I thought I did, so I just...dealt with it ‘cause it was better bein’ your friend than nothin’ at all.”

Joey dropped her shoulders, bringing her fingernail up to her mouth as she peered down at Sadie, who was curled up on the couch behind Niall fast asleep. There were a million different thoughts crashing through her head, a million different feelings and just when she had decided that it was time to get over Niall, to move on and leave that part of her life behind...he was standing in front of her confessing the very same feelings that she had for him. It was startling, electrifying, overwhelming and frightening, all at once. Her heart was going wild in her chest, swelling with each tiny breath that left her lungs and she peeked up at Niall and a single, excruciating realization swiped all of it away. “But...you’re with her. You have a girlfriend.”

Niall sighed, lowering his head as Joey kept her stare glued to him. “Niall, do you know how fucked up I’ve been these last couple months watching you with her?” she softly confided, “I can’t even breathe when I’m around you…”

“Yeh, I do know,” Niall quipped with a brashness, his eyes rising up to look at her as he cocked his head back slightly. “I felt the exact same way, watchin’ ya go out with all those guys who weren’t even worthy of bein’ with ya.”

Joey pulled her face in. “So...what, you’re just dating Lila to be vindictive?”

“No! Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” Niall rolled his eyes as he ran his hand over his forehead in a sigh. “I was tryin’ to move on.”

“Move on from what? We weren’t even together.”

“From you, Jo, from my feelings for ya,” Niall paused, shaking his head as he held his palm to the front of his chest, “I didn’t date Lila to hurt ya or make ya jealous, I swear. I didn’t know ya felt that way about me.”

Joey bit at her bottom lip. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

Stuffing his hands down into the front pockets of his shorts, Niall’s shoulders bounced in a light chuckle. “Well, love, we proper fucked that up, didn’t we?”

She pushed out a faint giggle, shaking her head as she reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear. A soft quiet had fallen between them, Joey bringing her stare up to Niall’s. “So...what now?” she then asked him.

“Um...dunno really, though, I guess it’d be a good time to tell ya that I broke up with Lila,” Niall told her.

Joey’s brows pulled in. “What?” she questioned. “Wait-...when did you break up with her?”

“After ya left me house.”

Her hazelnut eyes darted over his, and Joey almost couldn’t believe what he was telling her. It seemed a little too good to be true. “You broke up with her after I stormed out of your house? Today? Why would you do that?”

Niall gave her a shrug. “ ‘Cause I knew in that moment, after seein’ how upset you were, that I had to tell ya how I felt.” He paused, licking across his lips as he pulled in a deep breath. “There was somethin’ in your eyes when ya looked at me, Jo. Somethin’ inside me just...I dunno. But I knew I was done pretendin’ that I didn’t feel nothin’ for ya. That what we have between us could be real, whether ya felt the same way or not.”

Joey felt a warmth pulse to the top of her skin, curling in her belly and whipping through her veins. Her stare flitted over his, almost helplessly as she fought off the smile that was trying to break across her mouth. “It was the way I looked at you?”

“It’s always the way ya look at me,” Niall said softly. “It makes me heart stop dead in me chest. You said before that ya can’t breathe when you’re around me? I can’t breathe when I’m around ya either…”

Joey bowed her head down, a sweet smile spreading over her lips and a ruddiness punching to her cheeks as the heat swam through her body. Niall caught a hint of her expression and it made the same befall him. He couldn’t help himself; this girl, this beautifully exquisite, smart and captivating girl in front of him, made something inside him come alive. It made him want to burst at the seams and never be whole again without her. His blue eyes fawned over the long strands of her red hair that fell down the side of her face, to the soft slope of her neck and with his heart practically thumping out his chest, he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and never let her go.

Easing in a breath, Joey caught his stare once more. “What’d you tell Lila?” she asked him, her curiosity taking over.

“I just told her it wasn’t workin’ out,” Niall admitted with a shrug.

“Did she believe you?”

Niall shook his head. “I don't think so. She heard us fightin’, so I think she knew the real reason I was breakin’ up with her.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Joey tipped her head to the side. “And what reason is that?”

“You.”

She lightly rolled her eyes in a tiny smile, the flutters in her tummy going wild. Niall smirked at her playfulness, overwhelmed by how damn cute she was and he slowly shuffled closer to her. Joey’s chin tipped up to meet his stare as Niall stood right in front of her. “I really like ya, Jo,” he breathed out, reaching up and using his fingers to delicately brush her hair away from the side of her face. “And I know ya really like me too…”

Her heart was racing, her legs nearly turning to Jello the longer they stared at one another and Joey could see the softness in his eyes, feel the heat penetrating from his body as his chest moved fast below the tan-colored buttons of his blue shirt. Her fingernails twisted into the material of her sweatshirt at her inner elbows, anticipating whatever was about to happen next as her eyes darted fast over his. The room was dead silent, burning and swirling around her ears like a tornado of fire and Joey tried to catch a decent breath, but all she wanted was one thing. One simple thing.

With her stare slowly moving down his features, over the prominent tip of his nose and the dusty shade of his grown-in beard, it settled on the one place that she had been dreaming of. His lips. Joey’s eyes fluttered and she anxiously shifted on her bare feet as she bit down on her bottom lip. “Niall?” she barely choked out.

“Yeah?”

His touch had fallen from her skin by then, his hands hanging down by his sides and Joey glanced back up to the darkening pupils of his eyes that were held steady on her. “Can you stop staring at me and just kiss me already?”

A short chuckle rumbled from his throat and he gave her a smirk. “Yeah, baby, I can do that…”

Hooking a finger underneath her chin, Niall slowly started to bring her mouth to his. Joey rushed to pull in a breath, her eyes easing closed as she felt Niall’s parted lips gently cradle around her own. With his hand moving from her chin to cup around her jaw, Joey fell into him; her hands pressed to the front of his chest, feeling the banging of his heart against her palms as his mouth slowly moved over hers.

His lips were soft, smooth and he had a hint of gin on his breath and as his head tipped further, Niall deepening the kiss, Joey felt as if the ground below her was fading away. She was floating, floating up and up, her hands slowly sliding over his shoulders to encircle his neck as his tongue slipped between her parted lips. Fireworks burst unstoppable in her tummy, sparking recklessly from her rising chest to the ends of her bare toes and Joey roughly tangled her fingers up into the back of his dark hair, not even willing to let him go if he tried.

She hummed against his open mouth, Niall tasting the sweetness of her breath on his tongue as he reached up with his other hand and curled it into the thick of her hair. He kissed her harder, not meaning to but not being able to hold back any longer. He wanted her; wanted her soft kisses and her fiery touch, he needed her; every bit of her trembling body and her enrapturing soul. Tiny whimpers edged from her throat, the feel of her fingers gently pulling at the ends of his hair every time his tongue swept over her own with the heat of her body pressed taut to the front of his, it was all more than he could have ever imagined.

It was only when Niall could feel himself fully reacting to her, that he was forced to pull away, their eyes slowly peeling open. Joey lightly ran her tongue over her lips as she rested her forehead against his to catch her breath, and just a few more heart-stopping moments passed before the young woman had urged him back into a kiss, peppering his lips with hers over and over.

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall fan fic #niall horan fan fic #niall fanfic #niall smut #ou #slowburn #tdg #chap 9 #YALL THIS MIGHT BE THE ONE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!!!!!#ahhhhhhh #okay pleas pleaseee read and SHARE!!!!#let me know what you think #i love hearing yall's thoughts or yells or whatever lol #enjoy!!

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