#I’m just overthinking my ENTIRE fucking personality and life in general and right now I just

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Astrology Observations 07/30/2024

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Sign Parings That Annoy, Irritate, or Eaisly Upset Each Other

Aries — Scorpio

Taurus—Pisces

Gemini— Capricorn

Cancer — Libra

Leo—Virgo

Virgo— Gemini

Libra— Taurus

Scorpio— Gemini

Sagittarius— Capricorn

Capricorn— Pisces

Aquarius—Pisces

Pisces — Capricorn

A Sentence To Describe Your Moon Sign

Aries: This too shall pass, but when it’s here I’m going to act-up.

Taurus: I don’t feel like doing that, sorry.

Gemini: Hey everyone, this is my newest fascination.

Cancer: I want to eat my favorite food and scroll through my phone.

Leo: I need as much validation as possible right now.

Virgo: Let me do it my way or I’ll have a breakdown. 

Libra: I just want to go out and have a good time, let’s vibe.

Scorpio: I’m going to sit in the dark and overthink my entire life until I feel terrible.

Sagittarius: Fuck this, I’m going to go somewhere else where I’m appreciated.

Capricorn: I don’t even feel that way. You are the problem.

Aquarius: If I was to breakdown what I feel it would be that I’m just way too smart and people can’t understand me.

Pisces: Wait, what’s going on?

Signs That Have An Instant Connection

Aries & Leo

Taurus & Sagittarius

Gemini & Sagittarius

Cancer & Pisces

Leo & Pisces

Virgo & Aquarius

Libra & Pisces

Scorpio & Leo

Sagittarius & Aquarius

Capricorn & Scorpio

Aquarius & Scorpio

Pisces & Libra

Ascendant ( Rising Sign) & How It Relates To Your Personality

Aries Ascendant: Dare-devils, risk-takers, blunt. These people are easily noticed because they always have a unique or distinctive feature to their look. Loners. In a rush type of energy. Changes hair and looks a lot.

Taurus Ascendant: Chill, nonchalant, nature-oriented, needs to be in places with nice vibes. Luxury people. Quality oriented. Into their looks and will keep up on them. Can have really soothing or nice voices to hear.

Gemini Ascendant: Talkative and chatty, great at talking to others, feels the vibe of the room before interacting. Funny and loves to laugh and make others laugh. Thoughtful in their perspectives and mindful of how they come across. Can talk with their hands a lot.

Cancer Ascendant: Reserved, polite, funny, and has a lot of stories to tell. They can take time to warm up to others but are actually very talkative. Great story tellers and generous. Sensitive, but can reserve their tenderness for people in their close circles. If they gain weight it can be in their upper body.

Leo Ascendant: Talkative, always need a friend beside them or a main person, charismatic, funny, always knows how to put that shit on ( dress well), draws attention easily ( positive or negative), think of themselves well and really enjoy compliments ( changes their whole day). People with big hearts.

Virgo Ascendant: Simple dressers, nit-picky with a lot of things ( food, hygiene, looks, items). They can look/smell something and know if they like it or not. They can be super sensitive physically and enjoy alone time. Loners as well. If they’re interested in something they really are into learning everything about it. Great talkers and can capture people’s attention when they do open their mouth and talk. They can have either defined eyes or unique ears. They also might get an upset stomach faster than others.

Libra Ascendant: Alluring, has a striking beauty about them ( usually stand out beautiful features), these are the people who will strike up a conversation with anyone, they love flirting and love getting attention. Social chameleons they can blend in many environments, a lot of people tend to like them. Sensitive and easily offended, will strive to always have good relationships with others. May be prone to getting stressed easily.

Scorpio Ascendant: Observant, fascinated, obsessive, sensitive, private, sexual, jealous. They prefer to get to know people and build unbreakable bonds. They can be very stubborn to what people say about them, refuse to give people power over their own minds and self. Chooses what to share and usually shares information when they decide. Anything can hurt their feelings but they won’t tell you that. Has a super kinky mind and can be possessive over those in their lives. Can masturbate or enjoy it a lot.

Sagittarius Ascendant: The person who always seems positive and upbeat, a pronounced smile, talkative, expressive, always down for an adventure, open-minded, loves learning and always learning something new, a huge flirt, sexual, and says things that others won’t dare to say. They can be unpredictable and tend to try new things. Strong legs or a nice ass. They can be strong physically.

Capricorn Ascendant: They can be the type of person who follows rules and behaves well publicly and get wild in their private space. Brags a lot and likes to talk about what they have or do. Always having to look out for someone else either a sibling, a friend, or family member. They can mature fast physically and look older than their age or mentally mature fast. Tend to respect their parents a lot or at least can hold their parents dear to their heart. May feel like things take more effort in their life to get or that they have to work hard for all they get. Can have very nice skin or skin issues. Serious look when not smiling.

Aquarius Ascendant: Loves to stand out, the friend who works at a non-profit, social justice warrior, or goes to protests. Scattered brain with so many ideas. They are into unconventional ways of living. Probably interested in human psychology. Probably goes through many phases with their aesthetic and interests, depending on who they’re around. Whatever race or background they’re from they may not follow their tradition/culture. They are the type to find interest in unique people and niche groups.

Pisces Ascendant: The artist, poet, spiritual person. Sensitive, understanding, optimistic, loves being around others but always needs time for themselves. Can feel as if life is too much and prefers to escape into their own reality ( hobbies, having fun and pleasure, being apart of communities away from society, drugs). Loves so deeply and willing to sacrifice, friends with all different types of people. Naive and can fall into their own demise if not grounded. Can be eternally sleepy and ready for bed.

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[bylightofdawn]

Man, I hope people don’t mind random-ass perspective shifts in a chapter because this one has like swapping back and forth between Jaster and Myles pretty shamelessly. I tend to TRY and stick with one POV per chapter but if I can’t, I’ll generally try and swap it at like a major chapter break.

This chapter though it starts out very much from a Myles POV for like….a short bit and then I was like ‘whelp swapping to Jaster. -has him wander out of the room to make a phonecall to Plo- then have him wander back in, speak with Myles and now it’s swapping over to Myles POV for this next part for very important plot reasons.

I myself as a reader, I don’t really care. I DO notice when it’s like a co-written fic where I think people were pretty much just RP’ing and then they just altered it to be a fanfic after the fact. When you can see those major POV shifts from where one author hands off to another. And they don’t quite make the transition as smooth as it could be then I’ll notice cause it stands out sorta like a sore thumb. Again, it’s not anything I’m going to put down a fic for but I do notice those kinds of things.

And typically just for coherency’s sake, I’ll try and stick with one POV for a scene or even an entire chapter.

Then I get outlier chapters like this and get randomly paranoid people are going to notice and or care. And realistically? Who is REALLY going to care about that but me? The neurotic, chronic over-thinking self-catastrophizer that I am?

No one cares, Karen.

And sometimes, you just gotta tell yourself that over and over again until you either believe it or bully yourself into getting out of your own head. Or at times, make it worse and you get stymied cause that 1,000% can happen as well. Ask me how I know?

Seriously, the amount of needless self-doubting and overthinking I will do, ya’ll don’t even see a sliver of that shit show. I will grind to a FUCKING DEAD STOP mid-scene and spend an hour needlessly researching one little point that literally no one but I will notice or care. But can I stop myself from having that almost compulsive need to research and make sure I’m using the right medical term or describing something correctly in hopes one person who might work in that field will notice and appreciate my obsessive need for correctness? Or worse, they are in said field, I fucked it up and then it stands out to THEM as much as a sore thumb?

I cannot be the only person who does this, right?

EDIT: Also? Fanfic writing is not going great this morning, mainly because I am not a morning person so it's hard to fucking FOCUS especially when I'm going on life five hours of sleep to boot.

My brain is an ADHD dragonfly that flits from one topic to another seemingly on a whim. As anyone who looks at my blog and the random amount of reblogs and random bullshit I've been posting the past hour or two can attest.

I'm debating giving up and just taking a shower to try and fully wake up for work because I can barely keep my eyes open and I keep yawning like crazy.

Bleh, sometimes you just can't write and I am trying to get better about being kind to myself when ADHD brain kicks in and I cannot simply sit down and focus on my fic long enough to get more than a few words at a time written.

And that's perfectly okay. It does not make me bad a author or a failure as a writer. I just need to put the fic away and go do something else instead. The words will come eventually.

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

[duckymcdoorknob]

I Wonder Why

ITS ME, YA GIRL. BACK WITH ANOTHER LYRIC FIC!

This feels kinda rushed?? So it may not be the best.

Anyways Dion Dimucci is my fucking king so actually listen to the song I plug in.

This is lyric text, as per usual

No flashbacks this time!

Listen while you read!! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡♡´･ᴗ･`♡♡´･ᴗ･`♡︎

Enjoy!!

Ships: Asahi Azumane x gn!reader

Warnings: None!

Prompt: When Asahi begins to exhibit uncharacteristically ludicrous actions, his friends make him wonder why he suddenly had a change of heart.

Tags: General taglist! @lisiwalker, @rebloging-everything, @fushigum , @littlebbyleesfw, @rachi-roo

@asahisimpnation @screamin-abt-haikyuu fellow Asahi simps I think may enjoy this.

Don’t know why I love you like I do...

Asahi had never found himself having to defend his decisions before. He always made the right choices; no matter the time, place or circumstance. He wore the correct fashions, knew correct answers and seemingly made correct calls in volleyball.

He never had to defend his decisions.

He always knew just what to do.

He carefully planned his every move.

That is... until you came along.

You electrified his life. You sparked the vague tinge of adventure in him. Asahi used to map out and psychoanalyze every thing he ever did. Now? He simply rides the tide, not caring to overthink the consequences.

His friends and teammates noticed the sudden change in him. It was as if he had adopted an entirely new persona within a minute.

When Asahi was asked as to why he now just closes his eyes and leaps, he replied in one way:

“Don’t know why I do.”

“Well you’ve gotta have some kind of reason.” Daichi said in exasperation, sitting down at the library table and bringing two drinks with him.

Don't know why I love you.

“I really don’t know, Daichi.” He muttered in return, happily accepting the green tea he was handed.

“Something had to have brought it forth.” Suga replied nonchalantly, cautiously sipping the lemonade that Daichi had brought for him.

Don't know why I care.

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe I just matured. What if I wanna just be tough and wild for once?”

“Yeah no one who’s tough or wild would ever say that, dude.” Suga teased, chuckling softly as he turned the page in his book.

“Let me ask you this.” Daichi started, “What’s your goal here? What do you want?”

“What I want?”

“Yes. What do you gain from this change of heart?”

‘I just want your love to share…’

I wonder why, I love you like I do.

After that day, It didn’t take his friends long to realize why Asahi had changed. He wasn’t exactly hiding his adoration for you.

He was laughing a little too much at your stupid jokes, he was always walking you home after school so that you would “get home safely.”, he was bringing you a treat every Friday, because he knows that when your Chem teacher has your tests scheduled for.

Asahi was smitten with you. He loved you, point blank, period.

He’d known it for a while.

Is it because I think you love me too?

He’d known the day that you snorted when he made you laugh, he knew when you “fell” down with him when he slipped in the cafeteria, he knew when he first met your eye and you smiled at him.

I wonder why, I love you like I do, like I do.

All these little things.

What did they mean?

They’re just casual things that happen to people! You’re a kind person, you would’ve done it for anyone. But something within him still made his heart pound and his face heat up. What if you did like him?

I told my friends that we would never part.

As the three third years met once again, as they have every Friday, the Ace’s nerves seemed to be at an apex. He was going to ask for help with making you his partner, he just didn’t know where to start.

“Guys I got a confession to make.” Asahi said quietly, interrupting the absolute silence of the library.

Daichi and Suga looked up at him with just a tinge of anxiety in their minds.

Asahi sighed out a breath, “I’m-“

“Plotting against the vice principal?” Daichi asked in a teasing manner.

“What? No I’m-“

“Harboring a fugitive in your backyard?” Suga interrupted

“Suga no! I’m-“

“A secret agent?”

“Daichi!”

“Sorry, sorry.” The captain chuckled, “Go ahead.”

“I think I’m in love…” the ace sighed, “with (Y/N).”

The other two third years turned to each other and blinked slowly, smiles plastered across their features.

“Nooooo. Really?” Suga asked, feigning innocence.

“We never could’ve guessed.” Daichi teased, chuckling heartily.

“We’ll fine then!” Asahi pouted, sucking the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “I won’t tell you guys anything ever again.”

They often said that you would break my heart.

I wonder why they think that we will part, we will part.

“We’re only teasing you, Asahi.” Daichi replied with a small snort, “What’s your plan now?”

“What?”

“I mean where do you want to go from here?” The captain quirked a brow, staring at his spiker.

Asahi grew slightly agitated, “Stop asking me such open ended questions! You know how indecisive I am!”

“Hey, hey! Just think about it.” Daichi rose his hands in defense, “Are you really sure? I mean look at how much you’ve changed since you met them-“

“And I’ve only changed for the better!” Asahi replied matter-of-factly, “I know that you’re worried you’re gonna lose me, but I was friend married to both of you first so.”

Sugawara rose his hand to cover his mouth as giggles leaked out of it.

“I’m trying to be genuine here!”

Daichi soon followed as a strand of laughs fell from him too.

“You guys are assholes. This is spouse harassment.”

And after waiting for his friends to fall out of their fits of laughter, that were a bit too loud for the library, Asahi finally got the advice he wanted.

When you're with me, I'm sure you're always true.

When Asahi invited you to join him and the team on their weekly outing, you were delighted to be considered.

Unbeknownst to you, this was all an elaborate scheme among the third years to get the ace to confess to you.

“Okay but who even chose to go to the park?” Nishinoya whined, flopping dramatically against his bus seat partner, Tanaka.

“Relax, Noya. It’ll be fun!” You cooed, turning around and sticking your tongue out at him.

“Ehhh. Alright alright.” The libero replied in an amused tone, “oh look we’re here!”

The team all filed off of the bus and across the park, each member being engrossed in a new aspect of the nature, you decided to go off toward a sunflower field on a hill.

When I'm away, I wonder what you do.

“Guys this is it!” Asahi beamed, clearly giddy about his friends’ plan for success.

“Well, go catch up with them! We’ll be up in a few!” Suga replied, matching his excitement.

The ace ran happily up the hill, and through the field, scanning the area to find you.

You, however, had already taken heed to settle yourself among the flowers and in the field.

Asahi carefully trudged in the field, eager to find you and execute his plan.

There was no need to search, you had just been waiting to pounce on your friend.

I wonder why I'm sure you're always true.

Asahi broke into laughter, that was bright and bubbly, as you perked up behind two sunflowers, using them as googly eyes.

As you joined his laughter, the other third years watched in hopes of his wishes coming true.

“Haha! Geez, I love you.” Asahi says breathily, wiping a tear from his eye.

Always true…

Suga and Daichi almost physically facepalmed… nice going, Asahi.

“I- w- uh- i mean-“

“I- w- uh-“ you teased, grabbing both of his hands and planting a feather-light kiss on his lips.

“Well… he used the wrong method, but got the correct result.” Suga whispered to Daichi.

In which the captain replied, “S’like Hinata in math class.“

Suga’s eyes widened as he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing at the tender moment. He pushed Daichi along with him and made his way toward the second years.

As you broke apart from the heartfelt moment, you felt your cheeks heat up quickly.

Did you really just do that??

Before you knew it, Asahi was trying his best to keep himself from losing it. He was snickering visibly, chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut.

“To think I had this whole pick up line, that Daichi picked out for me, and you just kiss me right when I’m up at the bat.” The ace said with a bit of a struggle.

“Oh please, tell me the, most likely shitty, pickup line.”

“You’re under arrest!” He cooed, poking at your shoulder, “for stealing my heart.”

“Pffffff- oh…. oh god… that, that was awful.”

And soon enough, your lovely duo exploited into amused laughter, still holding each other’s hands.

It seemed that laughter was the thing that had brought you two the closest together.

Whether it was the secret chuckles between your overly comedic matchmakers, or your own loud and proud belly laughs at each others’ shenanigans.

He wondered why.

And it was always you…

——————✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞———————

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.

That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.

Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.

In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.

The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.

He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.

And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.

He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.

For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.

A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.

Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.

The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.

Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.

They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.

“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”

Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.

“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.

“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.

“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.

“Can I hear you, baby boy?”

He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.

He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.

“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.

“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.

Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.

So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.

It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.

As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.

So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.

He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.

He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.

Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.  

In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.

“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”

Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.

“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”

He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.  

“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”

“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”

“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.

“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”

“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.

“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.

“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.

“Good boy.”

“You know I am.”

“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”

MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game.  They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.

Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.  

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”

That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that?  The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?

He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.

That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–

Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing –  he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.

It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.

But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.

Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.

He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.

He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.

Well, none except for one.

“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.

“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.

“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”

He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.

“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”

Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:

“I need to see you.”

Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–

“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.

Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!

Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.

Right?

“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”

Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.

Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.

But.

Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.

“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”

That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.

Right?

“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.

“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–  

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”

Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.

Some other times, it felt good to forget.

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 2)

Chapter Summary: You did make a deal.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, sex deprived reader, boytoy!Bucky, mention to break ups, mention to bad sexual experiences, casual sex, opened relationship.

A/N: You guys and all the feedback you’re giving to this story are just my everything. Thank you for your patience, if you follow my stories for a while you all know I’m a slow writer and not even social distancing seems to be changing that. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. I was going to close the tag list for this series at 70, but you’ve been really amazing, so I’m extending it to 80 spots for now. All I ask of you is, if you’re tagged and liked what you read, please leave me a nice little comment.  Thank you, @lesqui​ 

 Saturday mornings have always been like any other morning to you. Waking up early, making some black coffee and fixing up something quick to eat . Then checking up on your schedule for the day, which more times than you dare to count consisted of working from home and that’s it. Nothing special.  

But this Saturday morning is nothing like the other ones, this morning has actually already passed since you wake up past noon, a lot later than you’re used to, take a long bath with all the pampering accessories you found in your bathroom - something you hadn’t done in a very long time- plaster your face with a moisturizing mask you’ve bought on a late night online shopping spree and has never used, wrap your body in a robe, your hair in a towel and go to the kitchen to make your usual black coffee but also a few chocolate pancakes as a treat to the atypical hunger making your stomach groan loudly.

ThisSaturday is nothing like the other ones because you have the memory, on your mind and your whole body, of three fantastic orgasms you were gifted with the night before. If it was up to you, Bucky Barnes and his sinful tongue would get all the awards in the world.

While you hum a soft tune and flip your pancakes, the night before replays like a movie on your mind, taking small giggles out of you and causing a warm rush to creep up your neck. The man sure knows his game, touching all the right places, playing with your body just perfectly, luring you into a very much needed and longed ecstasy.  On top of that, he was nothing but generous and seemed to get himself off by getting you off and, now that you’re thinking about it, a man acting that way in bed is something entirely new to you.

You have to send Natasha a present, maybe that expensive vodka she’s always drinking…

The memory of your friend quickly fades and the sinful picture of Bucky Barnes’s face between your legs pops back into your mind as you drop the pancakes on a plate and sit by the counter to devour them with your coffee. What a night you had. The whole no strings attached situation makes it even more… enjoyable, you dare say, much more than you thought it would be. There is no dwelling on whether you should text him to say hello, or call him, no need to hold back who you really are or what you really want in favor to make a good impression, nor to think about meeting friends, family, no fear of disappointments from both sides… it was just plain good old sex, which you’ve realized it’s all you need and are looking for.

You hum at the sweet taste of the pancake and take a sip from your coffee. There’s no worries in your mind, no regrets, nothing like that. Except for one thought: the fact you didn’t even get to see his cock. The bulge alone grinding against you was already impressive enough to make your mouth water… Everything was amazing, more than perfect, actually, and left you completely spent and utterly satisfied, more than you’ve been in a long time, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. But now you only get to imagine how it would be if you two had gotten to the whole package, the real deal…

Unless…

You had thought about that night as a one-time occurrence, something to take your edge off and move on, but...  He did propose a deal… And you did take said deal… to call him if you needed anything… You stare dreamily ahead as you take a fork filled with pancake to your mouth and flashes of the feeling of his bulge pressed against your back, grinding on your core take over your senses… it took your breath away then and just the memory is making a number on your lungs.

You sure have a need now.

Glimpsing your phone over the balcony, you reach for it, loving you don’t have to care whether it is too soon or not to do what you’re about to do…but a new message pops up on the screen as soon as you unlock it. Natasha letting you know she was sent away for a mission with Steve Rogers but should go back in a week and wanted to schedule dinner for you to tell her everything… You type her a quick answer, agreeing on dinner, before tapping on the brand new contact of your list, added by Natasha Romanoff herself.

Bucky “Soft Tongue” Barnes.  

You’ll change it. Eventually…

~~~

“So… my place this time, huh?”

The smirk on Bucky’s lips is cocksure enough to make you take a long sip of the beer he offered you, while he lazily leans his elbow on the backrest of his sofa, supporting his head on his hand. You're thankful for the alcohol and for the fact that, this time, he hasn’t gone straight to business. Yes, you’ve been feeling bold and excited in having those kinds of encounters with a - hot as fuck - guy you barely knew. But this is new, and you know you must be careful and gentle to yourself, so it doesn’t blow up in your face eventually. Thankfully, Bucky seems to read the situation just fine since he’s been in cue with your rhythm from the very first moment.  

“Did you have any other plans?” you ask, biting your lower lip and hoping your presence isn’t actually a bother.

“I was happy to see your text.” Even if his answer is kind of vague considering your question, it eases the tension on your shoulders at his wide and comforting smile, “We did make a deal…” His voice is a tone lower as he peeks at you from under his lashes, taking his beer to his lips.

You take in a deep breath as your gaze drops to his lips, “Yes, we did.” You gulp, as your body tightens, feeling the rise of the tension in the air, enhanced by flashes of last night when you two settled said deal. 

His chuckle is a tad dark and laced with mischief and oh, man it makes your skin tingles when he drags his body just an inch closer, his beautiful blue eyes fastened on you.

“Ahm, Bucky… can I ask you something?” You try not to let your voice come out too small, as the heat of his body rolls off to yours and makes your core flutter.

“Sure.”

“How does this work?”  

He frowns as his head tilts a bit sideward, “This what?”

“This… ahm,” you clear your throat, “Deal…  I mean, I’m pretty interested, pretty, pretty interested.” You stress the word and your eyes widen a bit at the honesty slipping out of your lips, but you realize that’s actually how being around Bucky has made you feel, giving his own honesty behavior with you, just like now when he expresses no kind of reaction that would make you feel embarrassed or anything of that nature, so you let yourself continue, “But you must know I’ve got out of a relationship recently. It was really serious …10 years.” You chuckle when he huffs and takes a sip of his beer, “Anyway, I’m not really sure how to handle this.” You gesture between you two, “Should we establish any sort of rules, or something?” You shrug questioningly. Every single movie you saw or book you read where the characters had a deal like that they ended up establishing some rules, you’re not sure if that’s what you’re supposed to do here, but…

“Rules?” His whole face scrunches up, “Let me tell you something, sweetheart,” he lets out a long exhale, “My entire life, all I did was to follow damn rules. Even to this day, I have to follow them all the time in my job, whether is from the fucking government, the pain in my ass which is Stark or Fury and, believe me, even from the giant asshole of my best friend who’s pretty jacked up now but was nothing than a skinny angry ass, like, yesterday… Yeah, you know the punk, don’t you?” He smiles when you hold back a laugh, “It’s all about rules, rules, rules… I have to endure them when it comes to work, but I don’t like them in my personal life.”

He smiles that dazzling smile and you can’t help to offer him a small one, too. You see where he’s coming from. Given what you know of his life, he lived a very strict, military life ever since an early age in the 30’s. You don’t even have to elaborate on what happened next and everything he endured… now he’s part of the damn Avengers… Just like that, you start to get a bit more of Bucky Barnes and why he seems to live his life so lightly and freely now…

“Listen…” he continues, after taking a sip from his beer, “Let’s just have some fun… I loved spending time with you last night, I love that you’re here now and I love even more the prospects of tonight…” He smirks and you gulp down at the promise that comes with it, “I just wanna enjoy our time together, I don’t need rules to do that.” He pauses, as his face turns a bit more serious, differing from the light demeanor he’s been showing so far, “Do you wanna set any rules, though?”

You ponder his question. You did bring the subject up, because that’s what you think you should’ve done, but, now that you think about it, nothing comes to your mind. You kinda love his philosophy. No overthinking, just fun and no rules… “No, actually. I can’t think of anything,’ you decide.

“Great.” He smiles and nods, before his face turns serious again, “There’s one thing I need to clear up, though.” He stops and looks deeply into your eyes, as waiting for your consent before continuing.

“Oh, alright.” You encourage him to elaborate.

“As much as I’m looking forward to getting to know you and spending time with you, there’s absolutely no prospect of this turning into some kind of romantic relationship. See, I like the way I live my life too much and chances are I won’t be exclusive to you,” he says fixing his gaze on yours as if gauging your reaction to what his words, “What I’m saying is if I feel like it, I’ll have sex with other people and I highly encourage you to do the same if that’s something you want. The serum made me immune to any disease, but I’m obviously not against protection,” he adds and you feel your cheeks burning, it still blows you away how comfortably he talks about sex and how blatantly honest he is. You like and are getting used to it, but you’re just not there yet, “We can be friends, or not, we can just fuck our brains out, but we won’t go further than that. I need to know you’re aware and consenting on this, I need to know you’re on the same vibe as mine before we continue… having fun together.” He speaks seriously, but you see the tiny and suggestive curl on his lips when he finishes and waits for your answer.

You let out a small laugh under your breath, “I wouldn’t stress about it… I’m still in love with my boyfriend, to be honest. So, don’t worry about me wanting to turn this into something ahm… romantical.” You wave your hand between the two of you.  

“Uh, ok,” He raises a brow and nods, pondering your response, “We’re cool then?” He checks again.

“We’re cool,” You nod and raise your beer.

He promptly bumps his bottle to yours as you seal your deal with a toast and a shared smile.

“So, still in love with him, huh?” He asks, absentmindedly, after you two take a sip from the beer, “Was it a bad break up?”

“Not really,” you answer, looking down at your finger circling the rim of the bottle, “I just wasn’t expecting it… I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him… it was settled.” You shrug, “And then, nothing was certain anymore. I’m sorry,” you quickly add, shaking your head with a tight smile on your lips. The last thing you want is to talk about Eddie. And you’re pretty sure that’s not what Bucky expects from the night, either.

“Hey.” He hooks his finger under your chin, lifting it up so you look back at him, “No rules remember? We can talk, we’re not sex robots or anything.”

Your head falls back when you laugh, “Alright.” You nod as he smiles at you, “But I don’t really want to talk about my breakup, now.”

He nods back, accepting your position, “Can I ask you something?” He’s the one to talk again after you two drink from the beer, “Last night,” he continues when you give him your consent, “When I went down on you. Was that the first time?”

There he goes again, talking so freely... You don’t feel your cheeks burning this time, though.

“No,” you answer, and he lifts his eyebrows, showing a bit of surprise at the answer, “It was the second, actually…” You’re quick to add, tightening your lips, “That obvious, huh?” You laugh quietly as your shoulders drop a bit.  

Bucky shrugs, “It’s just that you seemed a bit self-conscious about it…” He brings his bottle to his lips, but stops it midair, “At first…” he smirks at you once again and winks.  

You let out a small chuckle, looking down, playing with the almost empty bottle in your hands, “And I was…” You turn your body to face him, folding your legs on his sofa and leaning your arm on his backrest. It might be the alcohol, or just his laid-back and comforting presence that makes you want to share it with him, “You see, I’ve dated Eddie since college and he was my first…you know?” You bit on your lower lip as he nods at you to continue, nothing changing on his expression at the information, “And what happened was that he was never really a fan of that… we tried once, years ago and that was it… I knew he was grossed out by it, so I never asked him again.”

Clearing your throat, you look away, bringing you your beer to your lips to conceal any sign of embarrassment your face might indicate, you can’t believe you just shared that with him, you know how pitiful that sounds and what a turn off that must be. You’re there to have sex and are sharing how unexperienced you are? Not cool.

You feel his eyes fixed on you, and, when your gaze is attracted to his like a magnet, the pity you thought you would see on his face just isn’t there. Instead, it’s something entirely different you catch on his expression and his eyes. Never parting his focus from you, he puts his beer on the center table and reaches for yours, placing it next to his. He drags his body closer, and his smell – no cologne, just his own manly smell with a hint of what must be a fancy shampoo-  fills in your nostrils, making you breathe in deeply the inebriant scent, “You know what came to my mind while I was listening to you?”

The sultry tone in his voice is almost hypnotic as your lips part and your gaze drops to his, “What?” you murmur.

“Last night…” He licks his lips before drawing his lower one between his teeth, “Your taste…” He leans forward, brushing his lips on your earlobe, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, “Your shaky legs around my shoulders…” His flash hand finds your knee before sneaking up your thigh, carrying goosebumps on its way, “And those sinful sounds you made while I had your pussy in my mouth.” He grabs your earlobe in a gentle bite at the same time his wandering hand grabs harshly the flesh of your thigh underneath your dress, pulling a breathy whine out of you.

He drags his lips to yours and the kiss is sensual, slow moves of his tongue against yours as his lips are a soft and breathtaking caress. You realize you would be willing to spend the whole night just like that… kissing him, as your tongue laces around his and he lures you to melt into him… But he seems to have other plans in mind. You can’t help but seek his lips again as he parts them from yours.  

“And this is what thinking about all of that does to me…” Boring his blue, now darker than ever, eyes on yours he grabs your hand from your lap and brings it to the bulge in his pants.

You gasp at the sensation in your hand as he guides your hand with his to brush the firm and large hardness. Everything about the situation is sexy and makes you light in your head and hot in your body: the way he moans as you move your hand, his warm breath slipping from his parted lips and fanning over yours, how his eyes flutter for just a second before fixing on yours again, his scent, his shameless words… 

“Just to think about eating your pussy…the mere thought of it…. Fuck, it turns me on,” he whispers and lets go of your hand, allowing it to move on its own as he lunges at you again, kissing and nibbling your lips a lot harder than the first time

You kiss him back fiercely while keeping your hand on his cock, palming it through his jeans. You already can tell how thick he is and a fluttering sensation bubbles down your lower belly as the desire to feel his cock inside you takes over your senses and makes you weak in your legs.

“Shit, I can’t wait to do that again…” He drags his lips down your collarbone, whispering between kisses and licks on your skin, “But right now, what I want is to feel your pussy around my cock. Is that what you want, too?”

“Oh, yeah,” you promptly answer, eyelashes fluttering shut at the thought as you press your hand harder against his hardness and digs your finger on his loose locks, “I want it… I want this cock so bad.”

“Bedroom,” he announces, swiftly getting up and pulling you with him.

By the time you get to his bedroom, he already has his shirt off and you’re only in your set of black lingerie, discarded clothes and shoes left on the short way from the living room. Peppering kisses down his neck, you unbutton and unzips his jeans.  

“Holy fuck.” It slips out of you in a breath when you look down and takes sight of his cock bobbing between you two as you pull his pants along with his underwear down his legs.

It’s big… and thick… and beautiful, you dare say…"Wow," it slips out of you unannounced as you keep staring down and you hear a chuckle from him, a tad too smug chuckle, because he damn well knows… of course, he does.

As he proceeds to ravish your neck, grabbing two handfuls of your ass through your underwear, you can’t help but wrap your fingers around him. You can’t take your eyes off your hand playing slowly with it, entranced by how thick and hard he is, anticipating the feeling of him inside you as you swipe your thumb over the tip...

“Stop, stop.” The rasped plea takes you out of your reverie as his forehead falls on your shoulder and his hand stops yours, “I’ll come all over your hand if you keep that up,’ he explains, laying a kiss on the crook of your neck.

You chuckle and bring your arms to circle his broad shoulders instead, peppering kisses on his stubbled jaw.

“Let’s go to bed, or this will be over too soon.” You can hear the smile on his lips as he squeezes your ass and steps out of his bunched jeans and underwear, guiding you to his bed.

Through kisses, licks, bites, and wandering hands on each other, he lays you down and positions himself hovering you after unhooking and taking off your bra with the same expertise from the night before. He focuses on your breasts, sucking each one of them with intense hunger before shifting on his knees, leaving your breasts and whole body burning for his touch.

He moves towards the nightstand and opens the drawer to get a condom. The position gives you a prime view of his fully erected cock. The little dark path turning into the well-trimmed little hairs right above it shows you how careful he is with himself and the thought of your tongue running down on it pops into your mind and sparks the electricity running down your inside. On its own will, your hand snakes down your stomach till your clothed mound.   

A particularly loud sigh of you is what catches Bucky’s attention as he rips the package with his teeth. His eyes drop to where your hand rubs you covered pussy and his cock twitches at the vision.

“Shit… yeah, touch yourself….” He breathes, as he rolls off the latex around his cock.

You promptly slide your fingers under your underwear and find out how wet you are. You draw gentle circles on your clit, never taking your eyes off his burly and beautiful figure, the tightness in your core is a crescendo as you catch every little detail of his perfect body and his hooded eyes on you.

Still kneeling on the mattress, he positions himself in front of your opened legs, but just stays there, hypnotized by the spot where you touch yourself, placing his hands on your knees and spreading your legs wider for him, his pupils growing darker and darker with lust.

You sigh and moan at the pleasure brought by your fingers, but the exposed situation you are in and the sight of him staring down so hungrily at your pussy prompts the tight coils flaming inside you. Just a couple of days and you’re finding out a few things you had no idea about yourself. One of them is that you actually love that kind of filthy exposition. It feels wrong and intimate and fucking sexy.  

He grips his cock, giving it a few slow strokes and it’s all a sweet torture that you can’t take anymore.

“Bucky…Please, fuck me.” Your voice comes out laced in a mix of plea and guttural groan you didn’t know you had in you.

Dark eyes flick to yours. “Oh, yeah? Do you want me to fuck you?” he teases, showing no mercy to your desperation.

“Hard…” you correct him, gritting your teeth, “I want you to fuck me hard.”

His eyes widen and his chest moves up when he sucks in a breath. You’re really that eager that you can’t control your words anymore, but you love the effect it has on him. He pulls your fingers from under the lace of your underwear and leans down to bring them to his mouth. Your lips part at the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, his eyes fluttering shut as he moans sucking the two fingers clean. Your taste seems to stir something in him and the world around you spins when big strong hands turn you over roughly.

“On your fours,” he growls. The grasp of his hands on your ass tugs at your core.

You promptly comply, getting yourself in the position he wants you in as he keeps himself behind you. You yelp when he swiftly pulls your underwear down your knees, the lace stretching around them as he spreads your legs. Looking from over your shoulder you watch him cursing under his breath and gripping the base of his impossibly hard cock and guiding it to your slit, coating his hardness with your arousal.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as the hardness brushes against your clit.

“In a second…” He smirks when his gaze crosses yours.  He leans over and pushes your back down, positioning your ass in the air as you lay your head on his pillow. Bucky grabs your hand and guides it to your pussy.

He doesn’t need to say what he wants you to do as your fingers quickly start working on your clit and he aligns himself with your entrance. He pushes the tip in and it knocks the air out of your lungs as you brace yourself on his pillows with your unoccupied hand, speeding up the finger on your clit.  Bucky groans as he pushes himself in, inch by inch. You’re soaking wet and he doesn’t find much resistance, but it’s been a year for you, so you’re very aware of the stretch on his way in.

“Shit,” you wheeze, loving how full you feel when he’s all his way in, both of his hands grasping your hips tightly.  

“Oh, damn, you feel amazing.” He groans and you clench around him, “Oooo, someone has a praise kink, huh?” A teasing tone in his words.

Do you? You wouldn’t know… all you know is how your whole body and mind respond to having him inside you and how his sultry words make your head dizzy. It’s an aching and floating sensation all at once.  You feel light and heavy and hot and eager for him to move.

Like he’s reading your mind, he starts his pace. His fat cock stretches your walls at every jerk of his hips, increasing in rhythm as it feels easier for him to slide in and out of you. It doesn’t take long before he’s pounding into you, a punishing hold on your hips to keep you steady enough to him. Being the discoverer of your weakness, he punctuates every pound with grunted words of praise, telling how good and wet you feel around his cock. 

He feels good, too. He feels so damn good, his cock brushing and hitting all of the sweetest spots inside you, the sound of skin slapping against skin... Your mind is a fuzz and your head sinks into his pillow, muffling your moans as you just take it, your body moving along with his powerful thrusts. The coil that’s been twisting your lower belly getting tighter and tighter. You want to come on his cock so bad, you press your fingers hard against your sensitive numb.

“Fuck, yeah, work on that clit, I wanna feel you soaking that cock,” Bucky coos, curling an arm around your stomach and, when you notice, you’re on your knees with your back to his chest. Slick skin burns against slick skin as he drags his metal hand over yours on your pussy, guiding your finger in a different direction, making you gasp at the new sensation the subtle shift brings.

“Oh, God.” You can’t and don’t want to hold back anymore as it’s all more than you can handle and the tightness inside your belly washes over your core in sheer ecstasy. Your back arches and your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out a mindblowing orgasm.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear, slowing down his pace, “That’s it, oh fuck,” he curses at the feel of your cunt gripping his cock.

Your senses aren’t fully functioning yet when he pulls out, throws you back on the mattress and flips you over, swiftly taking off the underwear that was stretched around your knees. A delicious smile curls your lips at all the manhandling because you want more and he’s giving it to you, driving himself inside you again, lifting your legs with his forearms, resting them over his shoulders and not holding back on the almost inhuman speed as he thrusts his hips.

He leans over, captures your lips and you curl your arms around his neck as he fucks you. Hard. Just like you said you wanted him to. You had no idea you were so flexible but what a way to find out, having the hottest guy you’ve ever met balls deep -really deep - into you while his tongue curls around yours.

Parting his lips from yours he releases your legs and they promptly wrap them around his hips as he supports himself with his forearms on each side of you and arches his back and to allow him to drag his lips to ravish your breasts, which he seems pretty fond of already. You push his thrusts impossibly harder and deeper with your feet as he alternates from sucking one and the other, licking and grazing his teeth around your sensitive nipples, your vision blanking at the light pain mixed with the pleasure he’s giving to you with his mouth and his damn perfect cock inside you. He doesn't give you time to cool down from the last orgasm as your mind freezes, focusing solely on the dazzling sensations in your body.  

“So fucking sexy.” The praise reverberates through your skin and it really seems to be a kink of yours as, joined with the expert roll of his hips, he brings you to another orgasm. A smaller one compared to the first, but powerful enough to make your body shake and to coax a series of moans out of you.

Bucky lets your breast go with a popping sound after a particularly hard suck and shifts back to his knees. 

Still in the daze of your second orgasm, a weak sound leaves your lips through panting breathing as your hips leave the mattress when, pulling your legs straighten up together and keeping them securely against his chest with one arm, he pounds into you until an guttural grunt rolls from his lungs and his hips still. He shoves his hips into yours a couple of times, deep and powerful,, spilling his own pleasure into the condom, before letting your legs loose and pulling out. The sensitivity etches a hiss out of you before his body drops next to yours. 

For a while, all that fills the room is the sound of sharp pants from both of you. In the past year, you came to think to think that maybe sex wasn’t that important to you and that maybe it wouldn’t matter if it happened or not…What a damn fool. 

You do like sex. Love it, actually. And it is fucking amazing and important to you, no doubt of that, you realize while your eyes shut and you allow yourself to drown into the delicious ache that covers your muscles while aftershocks of your orgasms cause occasional spasms all over your body.

“Holy shit.” Bucky’s the first one to speak, still fighting to breathe, “That was-”

“Fucking amazing,” you complete, breathing hard, but with a blissful smile on your lips you tilt your head towards him, “Thank you, Bucky. You have no idea how much I needed this.” You add, too deep in your daze to care whether you sound pathetic or not.

He laughs loudly and the corner of his eyes crinkle with it, “My pleasure, beautiful, my pleasure.”

A few more moments pass with both of you laying there and enjoying the after state of what you just did until the mattress moves when he gets up.

You gather your strength to lift your head enough to watch him walking towards the bathroom, rolling off the condom out of his semi hard cock.

As you’re alone in his bed, that’s when an awkward feeling freezes up your chest in contrast to the heat you’ve surrendered to so far. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Do you leave? Do you stay? Can you take a shower? You could definitely use one… You know he said no rules and you agreed, but some guidance would suit you pretty well right now.  

“Hey,” his voice takes you out of your own mind puzzle, “Your turn.” A soft towel is thrown at your face.

You grab it in your hands and look up at him with a glare. He’s laughing as he walks towards you, still butt naked, and your glare quickly dissipates into a playful one. “The bathroom is all yours now. There is liquid soap, shampoo and other stuff there if you need them,” he offers casually, sitting by the corner of the bed, “I’m starving, Chinese sounds good?”

You sit, too, holding the towel in your hand, “Yeah,” you frown before nodding “Sure, Chinese sounds great, actually.”

“Alrighty, then.” He taps on the mattress and gets up. You gaze falls down to his perky butt cheeks moving as he walks towards the door. He stops by the frame and looks back at you with that mischievous look of his, “Then, I’ll be ready for dessert.” He darts out that sinful tongue of his and runs it over his lips.  

The brief awkward coldness you felt is replaced by a flush of a welcoming heat creeping up your body.

You smirk back at him, “Can’t wait.”  

~~~

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k 

… 

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

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It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

.

.

.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

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It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

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[closetedotaku01]

can i rq for insecure s/o that have a beautiful body but she recently gained weight and kept overthinks it, but none of her friends are helping her out cause they think her body is nice and keeps taking her insecurities lightly.. for kuroo and oikawa pls

Imagine for Kuroo & Oikawa with insecure FEM S/O lacking a support system.

A/N: Wow I love this ask with my whole heart. Even chose two of my favorite characters. And may I just say these two might be the best in this situation, given that they’re captains, and aside from Bokuto captains are very aware of their teams and the general mental state and morale of every person on their team, so they might be the best people for this situation.

TW: Body image issues, self-esteem issues

Now: Imagine time!!! 

Kuroo Tetsurō

-Kuroo would notice you spending more time in the bathroom. More time picking out outfits. And your generally more disgruntled demeanor

-He can tell you’re unhappy, but he cannot tell what about. As far as he knows there’s nothing that’s happened. But he figures you’ll tell him in time whatever is bothering you.

-And then one day he’s out with you and your friends and one of them compliments your outfit and your body.

-He sees the way you immediately flush and reject the compliment. It’s not a humility thing or a simple deflection out of embarrassment, he can see you wholly and fully rejecting the compliment. You don’t even look like it made you feel good.

-He takes your hand in his and is about to ask you if everything’s okay when one of your friends whines about how pretty girls always fish for compliments

-He notices how your chuckle is feigned and your eyes look beyond hurt, watering a bit. How you squeeze his hand slightly.

-Your mutter out something he can’t quite make out over the sound of everyone else talking, but it’s something along the lines of you mentioning your weight gain. And it clicks for him.

-One of your friends talks about how you still look “fine” and he can’t take it anymore. You’re far from fine. As far from fine as it gets. You’re magnificent, an absolute treasure, and fuck them for not noticing that the most beautiful girl in the entire world is not happy

-Fuck them for not seeing it. Fuck them for hurting you. He is not having it.

- “I’m sorry everyone, we’re headed home now,” he says, already standing up and grabbing your purse to hand to you.

-You follow his lead solely because you’re scared if you don’t you might burst into tears in front of everyone and you don’t want to cause a scene.

- “Awww come on where’re you going? Why can’t you guys stay?”

- Kuroo doesn’t miss a beat, “I need some alone time with my gorgeous girlfriend.” He turns to you, speaking barely above a whisper, “You ready to go, love?”

-You nod at his gentle words and head back to your apartment together.

~~~~

When you enter your apartment, Kuroo immediately pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to you, tucking his body into yours, head into your neck, arms wrapped tight around you.

The tears you’d been holding back fall freely from your eyes and into his shirt, “I’m sorry, Tetsu I--”

He pushes you back, holding your shoulder at an arm’s length, “What are you apologizing for, love? You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.” You can’t meet his eyes, forcing yourself to stare down at the visible extra weight you’ve put on.

“For… not looking like the girl you fell in love with,” it’s all you can say before the sobs start pouring out. Hating your body. Hating yourself. Hating yourself for putting the most caring man you’ve ever known through this with you. 

The sobs tear through your body leaving an aching wreckage in your chest and your stomach and your back and your throat. There’s nothing left undamaged. Every bit of you is in so much pain and is shaking, like the pain you’ve been feeling finally exploded and is trying to escape by any means it can, fighting to escape even through your shaking fingertips. 

Kuroo puts his hand to one cheek and wipes the tears on that side, he bends down so his face is in front of yours, “Look at me.” His voice is soft and comforting filled with the love, care, and respect you had grown used to, but these words were packed full of them. Even when you knew you didn’t deserve all the affection.

He inhales deeply, “Deep breath in through your nose,” he exhales softly, smiling with his eyes as he blows lightly on your tears sending coolness into your burning cheeks, “And out through your mouth.”

You copy him as he repeats this until your breathing steadies. Until your heart has stopped slamming against your chest. Until the pain in your body is reduced to a dull ache.

Your eyes are still on his, and he’s looking at you with passionate love and fierce compassion, “There she is. There’s my beautiful girlfriend,” he says with a shy smile.

“I’m not---” a sob threatens to reappear, but you catch it in your throat.

“Love, you are beyond gorgeous. Your body is so sexy and still so adorable and pretty. I don’t know how you do it,” he kisses the crown of your head, “you mean the world to me,” a kiss to your forehead, “and if you call my world anything less than a goddess, anything less than perfection,” he kisses both of your eyelids and the tip of your nose in quick succession, “I will have to fight you.” He punctuates his sentence by planting a kiss on your lips.

“Tetsu, just because you’re my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you have to lie to me. It actually means you shouldn’t lie to me. And I know I don’t look good like this.”

His shoulders fall. And he has a sad expression on his face, but his eyes are still happy and you can see the smile tugging on his lips as he looks down, “Oh I get it,” he takes a long pause, “you think I have bad taste.”

You hit his arm playfully, “Tetsu, I’m serious!”

“So am I!” he shoots back, chuckling lightly.

“Okay, love, I know you don’t believe me. But you are seriously gorgeous. Completely, out of this world gorgeous. Beyond any person, place, or thing I have ever seen. The whole cosmos comes together to make the Earth and everything in it and around it, and the only part of any of it that’s worth seeing is you.”

His words feel raw and sincere, but you’re about to reject his kindness when he says the words you’ve been waiting for, “But you don’t see yourself that way. And that means you’re wrong…. But you do deserve to feel as beautiful as you are. And to feel as happy as you always make me. So if you want to come with me on my runs or if you want me to help you with anything let me know. I think you’re gorgeous but more than anything you deserve to be happy with how you look. So I’ll be right there by your side to get you there safely and healthily.”

You start to tear up again, your chest welling with love for the man before you. You collapse into his hold, and he holds you tight. He pulls away slightly to get a look at your face, “On one condition.”

You nod.

“I disagree, but I still believe that you don’t see yourself as beautiful. So even if you disagree ... can you please believe me when I say I know you’re absolutely bewitching.”

You nod again, and he pulls you in close to his body, happy to have brought you peace. 

Oikawa Tōru

-It wasn’t intended to wound you. In full honesty, it wasn’t intended for you. But you’d heard it nonetheless and it was roaring through your mind.

- “Pretty people never date down.”

-You’d heard in passing as you walked down the street. But the words bounced around, rattling everything in your mind.

-You never thought of yourself as particularly pretty, but you’d certainly done yourself no favors by putting on a healthy amount of “relationship weight”.

-You tried going to your friends, desperately craving some semblance of comfort or hope for your relationship with THE universally recognized pretty boy Oikawa Tōru.

-They shot back sarcastic comments about your “pretty girl problems”

- “Former pretty girl problems" was the only thing your brain could shoot back, determined to push you into a hole with the crushing anxieties you had about your body now doubled up with losing the person you loved and trusted most in your life.

-You walked into your apartment, your boyfriend on his laptop watching and rewatching one of his games, taking notes on his performance as well as the performance of each of his peers.

~~~~

“Hey baby how was your day?” his words are unfocused. Almost like he’s reading from a script as he jots down more notes and rewinds to rewatch the same play again.

“Terrible,” you say, honestly believing he’d be too caught up in his game to care. Who’d care for the ugly girl they were stuck with anyway? He probably stuck with you out of sheer pity.

He immediately paused the game and turned back to face you, “Aww no, what happened, baby? Come here.” his arms were open wide for you on the couch. 

“You know you can leave,” you said before you could think better of it. You regretted it. You didn’t want him to know that. You selfishly wanted him to stay with you forever, even if only out of pity. But… he did deserve better.

“What?” he asks quirking a brow, aware of how serious you sound, “I don’t want to… leave. Do you just need some alone time, Y/N? I can go on a run or something if you need some time to clear your head.”

“I meant ... leave me,” you say, your voice weaker and higher this time as tears that you hadn’t even felt forming started blurring your vision threatening to spill any moment.

He was in front of you in a heartbeat, “I’m sorry. I’ve been focusing too much on other things, haven’t I? I promise I don’t wan--”

“No the problem is you’re focusing too much on me!” your voice comes out as a yell and you see the half-step he takes, backing away from you, “you deserve better Tōru. You should want to leave.” With that, the tears spill over and your legs give in as you fall pathetically to the ground.

This moment is the very reason he should leave. You can’t even hold yourself together. You’re not pretty, you’re not strong, you’ve yelled at him when he’s done nothing wrong… you hardly deserve him.

You feel his hand meet your cheek and you flinch slightly at the contact, but neither of you move. His hand drifts down to your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes meet his. Your anger and sadness triple down on you when you see he’s got a fake smile on, his eyes rimmed red, tears forming because of you.

“I love you. I am not leaving you. Full stop. So please tell me what’s bothering you, baby.”

You want to ignore him. You want to grab your things and leave so he can get started on finding a better match so he wasn’t stuck dating down. With his body and mind and humor and kindness, he’d have no trouble. He had a million fans on standby at any given moment anyway.

But you don’t. You don’t pack. You don’t leave. You instead, pull his body into yours, desperately clutching his shirt with whitened knuckles, sobbing into him. 

With time you let his strong arms bring you peace. With your body molded tight against his, you eventually match his breathing, steadying yourself. His smell grounds you, the feeling of his hand in your hair calms you, and the soft, gentle praises he coos into your ear center you. Effectively, he slays every intrusive thought in your mind.

“You’re so perfect for me.”

“I never want to leave you.”

“You’ve made me the man I am today. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“I know the path to being my best self, is a path I’ll only be able to walk with you by my side.”

“You’re my whole world, baby. Please stop discounting yourself.”

“I wouldn’t change one thing about you, baby. Not even your stupid jokes. Not even the way you tease me.”

“I love your mind and the way you think. How kind and passionate you are. How you support me through everything. How you take such good care of me and everyone you love. God, I love the way you love. I love how wholly and completely you give love. And I love your body, baby. I love how pretty your face is, how perfectly your body fits with mine, how completely, mind-blowingly sexy you are. All of you. There’s not one part of you I am not head over heels in love with. We’re an absolute knockout of a couple, but you are by far the better half. Baby, please believe that because it is the truth.”

Every word is woven between kisses and touches and the easing of your whole body and mind. There was no way these words were planned. They were genuine. You could hear the authenticity in his voice, even though the unpleasant raspiness that had formed as he desperately tried to hold back his own tears. He had you whipped. Completely convinced.

You belonged here right in his arms. Right up next to him. As close as the world would allow any two people to get.

After you’d calmed down completely he asked without looking at you so he could keep you close, “What happened?”

You told him everything. The words you heard. How they beat around in your head, leaving a cold thunderous ache throughout your body. How your support system had failed you. How he had saved you from the treacherous thoughts that were certain to continue sending you spiraling downward if he hadn’t fixed everything simply by being him. And how much you treasure him.

He let out a breathy laugh, that soon grew into a full-on laugh as the tears finally left his eyes.

“It’s not funny Tōru!” you pout, basking in the sweet sound of his deep laughter.

“I know,” he says, still laughing. He clears his throat and does his best to stifle down the laughter, but it keeps bubbling up, “I know, baby. I know. But you know how I feel and you know that’s not going to change.”

“Then why are you laughing,” you ask, giggling as you wipe the last of your tears from your face and wipe the ones from his. 

“All I can think of,” the laughter breaks through his sentence, but he regains his composure, “is that you think I’m the prettier one.”

You hit his arm as you two laugh on the floor behind the couch, perfectly at ease with the man who you adore, and who adores you.

~~~~

Also just a reminder: Weight =/= beauty. So whether you are plus-sized, or thin, curvy, or flat, your body is perfect as it is. Just please stay healthy and happy and that’s all it takes. “Fat” does not mean ugly. “Skinny” does not mean ugly. Please stop associating these words. They’re not the same.

Beauty is your kindness and your compassion and your integrity. Your will to fight another day, your will to stand up for others, your will to give voice to the voiceless. It’s the way you look when you’re passionate and the way you constantly bring joy to others. So while I personally do understand associating my worth and my beauty with my weight, we all know that it’s just incorrect. Beauty does not fall into any physical mold, so please don’t try to hold yourself to a mold that was created by people who profit off your insecurity. You are you, and that is a goddamn blessing. You are you and that is more than enough. Your body is perfect. Please be kind. 

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

Hey Jealousy – Part One.

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Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Summary: The reader and Charlie grew up together, were the best of friends. It didn’t work well for her having boyfriends until she goes to college. Is her best friend jealous, or is everyone imagining things?

Requested: Yes / No

TW: Swearing, implies sexual intercourse, swearing, drinking Author’s notes: I had a weird dream (non-sexual) about an ex of mine and trying to make Charlie jealous (as you do), and this idea came from that. Whether it makes any sense at all remains to be seen.

Acknowledgements: The gorgeous @dream-a-little-bigger-x listened to me waffle on about this and read through most of it for me. Thank you my love.

Pairing: Fem Reader x Charlie Gillespie (eventually)

Words: 10,076

I have no idea when I’ll be posting Part Two as I am yet to write it... but I was way too impatient to sit on this. 

Growing up being the best friend of Charles Gillespie was equal parts the best and worst thing. The best because he was genuinely the nicest guy, ever. He was outgoing, inclusive of everyone, and so much fun to be around. Charlie never sat still, didn’t do well with being bored, so it meant we made a lot of memories together along with our other friends.

The worst because for some reason, being best friends with a guy was off putting to other guys. Hanging out with Charlie ninety percent of the time seemed to prevent them approaching me. Even when I made it obvious I liked them, they seemed too scared to speak to you beyond a ‘hi’ or a ‘how you doin’?’. Charlie never seemed to notice how frustrated I was.

When Charlie moved to Toronto to follow his dreams of becoming an actor, it felt as if I’d lost a limb. I’d known him my entire life, had been friends for the whole time, had gone through all our firsts together, and with him not around, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Admittedly, I was starting college just over the border in the US so there was that to keep me busy, but it wasn’t the same. Moving away from home, not having him with me, laughing at the other freshmen to help relieve my nerves. But I was alone and had no idea what I was doing.

Once I’d found my dorm room, I sat on the bed, surrounded by bags and boxes, and pulled my phone out of my bag. I needed my best friend right now, despite knowing he was probably out at auditions. I pull up my favorite contacts and tap on Charlie’s name, hoping he’ll be able to answer.

“Hey. I only have five minutes. How did the move go? Is your roommate cool? Any guys took your fancy? Have you had a chance to look around yet?” Eventually he stopped asking questions long enough to take a breath, letting me finally cut in to speak.

“Jesus Christ, Gillespie. I know you don’t have long, but do you really need to pepper me with so many questions? Don’t answer that otherwise I’ll never get to say anything.” I take a shaky breath and slowly start answering his questions. By the time I finish filling him on my day so far, he’s grinning at me.

“Sounds great, Trouble. I’m really pleased for you.” I rolled my eyes at his use of the nickname he gave me when we were seven and I punched a boy in the nose for tripping Charlie over and laughing at him cutting his chin on a small rock. “So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“I have some orientation thing, then I don’t know. Maybe just chill in my room, get to know my roommate when they finally get here.”

“Hey, listen. I gotta go. But I’ll call you when I get back to the apartment so you can tell me more. Especially if your roommate’s pretty.”

“You’re such a fucking horndog, Gillespie. Love you.”

“Love you too, Trouble.”

My ‘don’t call me that’ died on my lips as the call ended and the photo of Charlie and me camping at the Bay of Fundy a couple years back that had been my wallpaper since his sister took it filled the screen. My happiness of speaking to him faded as I realized I was alone, again.

:: ::

I had been at college for three months, and I was almost at the end of my first semester. Charlie was busy with filming a show he’d booked. I knew nothing about 2nd generation, but he was so excited, I couldn’t help but be so happy for him. We spoke most days and texted so much that all my friends thought we were dating. No matter how much I told them we were only friends, no one ever believed me.

The wall above my desk was covered in photos of the two of us and our other friends, and your roommate, Lena, was obsessed with him.

“Honey, if you ain’t tapping that, if he ever comes to visit, I’m stepping up.” She’d told me the first time she looked at a photo of Charlie. Every time the two of us facetimed, and she was in the room with me, she would butt in and flirt outrageously with him. I would laugh at him flirting back, enjoying the fact my two closest friends, one old and one new, got along.

I’d found it easier to settle into college life than I expected without having him with me. Maybe, if I was honest, him not being around was possibly the reason I was finding it easier. As much as I loved him and having him around, having something that was just for me meant something special.

I’d just finished a class and was walking across the quad when my phone rang in my bag, Charlie’s ringtone blared out. He’d picked En Vogue’s Whatta Man when we were about thirteen because ‘Trouble, it just describes me perfectly’. I’d just never got around to changing it, and now it always made me smile whenever I heard it.

“Hey, Trouble.” A groan and an eyeroll. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I just finished my classes for the day. I’m going for coffee with Lena. How’s things over there?”

“Yeah, we’re going strong.” There was a lot of indistinct background noise I couldn’t identify behind him, and it was hard to hear him. He hadn’t facetimed, which was strange, but it was probably a flyby call while he was waiting for a scene to be set up, or whatever actors did. I had no clue despite him telling me multiple times.

“That’s great.” As I walked beside Lena who was making kissy faces at me as Charlie and I spoke, I couldn’t help but smile at hearing his voice. It wasn’t the same as having him with me in person, but it was the best we’d have until Christmas break.

“Look, give me five and call me back. I just gotta speak to someone real quick.” Before I could answer, he cut the call.

“Well, that was the quickest call I’ve ever seen you two have.” Lena commented, a small smile on her face.

“He wants me to call him back in five.” It was typical Charlie, start something, then expect me to finish it.

“I swear, you speak to him more than your family.” She wasn’t wrong.

“He’s kind of like my security blanket. He talks me off the edge whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed and stuff. He’s never judged me for the way I overthink, and he’s so easy to be with.”

“I swear, if I didn’t know better, I would think you’re in love with him.”

“I do love him. He’s like the brother I never wanted and often get frustrated with, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him.”

“Uh huh…” She didn’t need to elaborate. She’d been saying the same thing since our first day. She was insistent that there was more to mine and Charlie’s relationship than there was. I was used to her by now and was able to ignore it now. “You better phone him back.” She reminded me as we neared the campus coffee shop. With a smile, I hit call on his contact.

Behind me, the sound of P!nk’s Trouble, my ringtone on Charlie’s phone rang out. Confusion washed over me as Lena started laughing. I spun round to see Charlie leaning up against a tree, a wide smile on his face.

I cut the call and ran over to him, throwing myself at him. As always, he caught me, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me in tight against his body.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked when he finally placed my feet back on the ground below me.

“I have the weekend off, so I drove down to see my best girl,” he looked at Lena with a smile, “and you, Trouble.” I punched him in the arm as he pulled my roommate into a hug.

“Remind me why I keep you around?” I asked him as the three of us entered the coffee shop.

“Because you adore this pretty face.” I rolled my eyes as we found a table after making our orders.

“You keep telling yourself that, Gillespie.”

:: ::

For the entire weekend, I showed Charlie around the campus and took him to parties. We got wasted, he enjoyed meeting my friends, but my favorite moment was on the Sunday when it was just the two of us, about a half hour outside of town, walking along a hidden trail.

“Trust you to find this place. I never even knew it was here.”

“You need to take more time for yourself, away from campus. Remember what it’s like to just be.”

“Do you get much of a chance to do that?” I asked as we walked, our arms brushing together the way they always did whenever we spent time together.

“Not as much as I like, but I try to get out at least once a week. It’s not the same though, not without you.” I looked up at him and saw a softness to his face not many people got to see.

“I’ve missed you, you big goof.”

“I’ve missed you too, Trouble.”

“You gotta stop calling me that.” I rolled my eyes, making him laugh and nudge at me with his shoulder.

“Never gonna happen, kiddo.”

“Kiddo? For fuck’s sake, Gillespie. You’re like two months older than me. You’re not exactly drawing your pension just yet.”

“It all counts.” He lifted his wrist and looked at his watch. “I better head back to my car and start heading back. I’ve got an early call in the morning.”

My heart sank at his words. I’d known the entire weekend he couldn’t stay forever and as we turned around to walk back the way we came, I felt a feeling of sadness wash over me.

“Hey, don’t do that.” He scolded me.

“Do what?”

“Fold in on yourself. We’ll both be home for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just enjoyed having your ugly face around.”

“Ugly? You wound me.”

“Whatever.”

Silence fell over us as we continued walking, and the closer we got to the parking lot, the sadder I became at having to say goodbye to him again. He took hold of my hand, interlinking our fingers the way we always did.

Finally, we reached his car and came to a standstill next to it.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I needed this weekend.”

“I’ll always be there when you need me.” I knew he meant it too. He always did.

“I know. It’s one of the main reasons I adore you.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. I wasn’t ready to let him go, but knew I had to. Knew I had to carry on with this new chapter of my life that didn’t revolve around our friendship, knew he needed to get back to work and forge his way in his chosen career.

“Love you, Trouble.” He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before pulling away from our hug and unlocking his car. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you more. Let me know when you’re back, so I don’t worry.”

“I promise.”

Lena walked to stand beside me as I watched Charlie climb into his car and pull away. We stood and watched him drive away until I couldn’t see his car anymore.

“That boy is in love with you.” I ignored her as I turned to walk back to our dorm. “Just as much as you are with him.”

:: ::

Christmas break had been crazy. My large family and the Gillespie family always mixed for the holiday, and it was always loud, full of laughter, and more than a little raucous. It was my favorite time of the year.

This year was no different, but it was over all too soon, and I barely saw Charlie. He got back home on Christmas Eve, and had to leave again the day after Christmas Day thanks to reshoots and stuff I didn’t really understand. Most of my time had been spent with his sister, Megan, but there was a hole in my celebrations. A Charlie-sized hole.

He didn’t even make it back home for New Year, and I saw in midnight on the back porch of my parent’s house alone, a glass of champagne untouched next to me. I’d tried facetiming him, but my calls had gone unanswered.

Arriving back at college was a relief, and the holiday period had made me realize I’d become so co-dependent on my best friend, I was holding myself back from living my life.

“Hey bitch, how was Mr. Tallish, dark, and gorgeous?” Lena asked as we both unpacked from our vacations.

“Busy. I hardly saw or spoke to him.” I could hear the bitterness in my own voice and hated it, but I also kind of didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, babe. How about we head out to a ‘welcome back’ party, get dressed up, and break some hearts?”

After thinking about it for a split second, I grinned and agreed.

“Fuck it. Why not?”

Usually, campus parties were casual affairs; sweats and tank tops, but the flyers about this one was emblazoned with the words ‘dress to impress’, so Lena and I went all out.

Walking across campus in my favorite LBD and a pair of amazing stiletto pumps, I felt like I could conquer the world. I’d made an effort with my hair and makeup, and when Lena was ready, we’d taken a shit ton of selfies, posting them on Instagram. It was amazing what getting dressed up did for a girl’s self-esteem.

“Honey, when Charlie sees those photos on insta, he’s gonna be calling you like crazy.”

“Well, it’s a shame my phone is on silent in my purse, then. Tonight is for me and you to have a great time.”

“And maybe try and get over one guy with another?”

“Lena, I don’t need to get over Charlie. He’s my best friend, and I adore him. But that’s all it is.”

As we entered the party – in a frat house, naturally – I couldn’t help but be impressed with how dressed up everyone was. I followed Lena through the crowd into the kitchen where we managed to grab some drinks.

“Yeah, okay. You keep telling yourself that. I can only go by what my eyes show me, and there is more going on between you two than either of you want to admit.” I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off. “I’ll shut up now. Let’s go, Momma’s in the mood for dancin’.”

I didn’t see Lena for three days after the party. She’d met some guy and had spent the entire time in his bed. It had been nice to have the room to myself as I caught up with movies and TV shows on Netflix I had missed over the holiday period. By the time classes started back up, she was back and seriously study mode.

“John was asking after you again today.” She told me two weeks back into classes as we walked in the wintery sunshine to get some lunch.

“Oh.” I had no idea who John was, but I was going along with it.

“You don’t remember him, do you?”

“No clue, sorry.”

After gasping, she proceeded to fill me on John. Apparently, I’d danced with him a lot at the frat party. He was six feet tall, well built, but not huge, and had a hint of red hair. None of it was ringing any bells, but seeing as she was sleeping with his roommate, she saw him regularly.

“How can you not remember him? you were all over him.”

“Lena, I’d almost drank my weight in tequila, I would have been impressed if I’d remembered my own name, never mind someone else’s.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. After tapping on the screen for a couple of minutes, she turned it so I could see.

The guy on screen was gorgeous. Piercing green eyes that reminded me of the forest near my house, and a wide, friendly smile.

“Judging by that reaction, you’d have no problems coming out with us tonight? Nothing heavy, just a few drinks and some food.”

“I wouldn’t be averse to food and drinks.” Laughing at my answer, she linked our arms and steered me into our favorite sandwich bar.

:: ::

The first meeting turned into a first date, then a second, a third, and before I’d even realized, John and I were dating, and it had been three months since that first meeting that I could remember. He was easy going and fun to be around, plus he loved being outside rather than cooped up in a room with another person. Especially when that person was his roommate who was often making out for hours with my roommate. We spent a lot of time on the hidden trail I’d discovered with Charlie, often taking a blanket so we could have a picnic under the lush canopy of trees.

John was a photography major, and never went anywhere without his camera – unless there was going to be alcohol – and my photo wall in my room was soon full of photos of the two of us, of me and Lena, and random things he saw that made him think of me. I had never been tagged in so many photos of me sober on Instagram in my life, and I loved every minute of our time together, but while I was happy, and living my best life there was still something missing. A 5,8” dark haired something.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to Charlie for longer than five minutes, and never mind an actual facetime call. He’d finished up with 2nd Generation and had gone back home for a few weeks. I’d seen photos of him and his family, mostly his cousin Madi, doing the things I would usually be doing with them. Spring break was coming up, and while most of my friends were planning crazy trips down to Florida or Mexico, all I wanted to do was to go home.

“Hey, what are you doing for Spring Break?” I asked John as we lay tangled together in my bed, a sheen of sweat on both of our skin.

“I haven’t made any plans yet, why?”

“Fancy coming to Canada?”

:: ::

Pulling up in the drive outside my parent’s house, I look over at John in the passenger seat. He looked nervous as hell which made me chuckle. I unclipped my belt and leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Stop panicking. It’s going to be fine.” I told him. My parents were looking forward to meeting him. “I should be the nervous one. I’ve never brought a guy home before.”

“What? Never? Not even in high school?” I shook my head. “What about your prom date?”

“Me and Charlie went to prom together. We did everything together, and it stopped guys asking me out and stuff. So yeah…” I drifted off, realizing that this was my first relationship, my first boyfriend.

“That’s cool. Come one, let’s get this over with so we can both calm down.” He gave me another kiss before getting out of the car, retrieving our bags from the trunk. By the time I’d got out, he was standing beside me, holding out his hand. I took hold of it and led him to the house.

“Mom, dad? Anyone?” The house was silent when I let us in, John dropping our bags on the floor in the entry. “Hello? Favorite daughter is home for a week.”

“Only daughter you mean.” My younger brother, Tyler came bounding down the stairs, skidding to a stop when he saw John standing next to me.

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.” I glared at him. “I mean, I’ve seen photos and shit, but I didn’t expect you to be so big. Nice to meet you, man.” Tyler held out his hand for John to shake, which he did, chuckling at my brother’s lack of brain to mouth filter.

“Ty, where is everyone?”

“Out in the yard. Dad’s cleaning off the barbecue and mom’s making sure he does it right.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Not that I expected it to, but nothing had changed. Tyler took off through the house out into the back yard where my family were waiting.

“Ready for a trial by fire?” I asked John, looking up at him, smiling.

“Best to get it over and done with.”

Turning my whole body so I was fully facing him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.” I murmured against his plump lips. He took a deep breath, gave me another quick kiss, and untangle me from him.

“Let’s do this.”

Once again, with our hands linked, I led the way, this time through the house I’d grown up in and out into the large back yard. Which was full of people, not just my family. Of course, the Gillespies were here too.

As John and I came to a stop on the ack porch, I cast my eyes across the space before me, looking for Charlie. It was a mixture of habit and wanting to see him, but I couldn’t find him.

“He’s not here.” Megan had jogged over and pulled me into a hug so she could whisper into my ear. Her words caused a wave of sadness to wash over me. “And we finally get to meet this guy who is all over your insta?” She grinned at John; her smile achingly similar to that of her brother.

“John, this is Megan, the little sister I never wanted, but got stuck with anyway.” As the two of the chatted, the three of us moved down into the garden so I could introduce my boyfriend to everyone.

:: ::

John had been stolen away by my dad, Tyler, and Charlie’s dad, leaving me to spend time with my mom. We sat on her favorite garden seat, watching everyone in silence for a few minutes before she turned to me.

“He’s nice. I can see why you like him so much.” I looked at her, waiting. Eventually, I realized she wasn’t going to say it.

“But? I know there’s a but in there somewhere.”

“No, no but.” She was lying, I could tell by the way her voice was at least an octave higher than usual.

“Mom. You can be honest with me, I’m not gonna bite your head off.”

“I just worry you’re rushing things. At college everything so… intense, and you’re constantly aware of it ending, that you’ll be leaving that part of your life behind you one day. What then?”

“I-we-I…” I didn’t have a coherent answer for her. She wasn’t wrong, but she’d also always told me that college was supposed to be the best time of my life, so why wouldn’t I spend it with someone I not only enjoyed being with, but who I was attracted too at the same time?

“Honey, I’m not trying to make you question things, I just want you to remember who you are and what you want in life.”

“Well, I want to be with John for now. Isn’t that enough?”

“If it is for you, it is for me.” She pulled me in for a hug. I loved my mom, but she’d confused me with our conversation. “You do realize your dad’s going to pitch a fit when he realizes you’re sharing a room.”

I stared at her. I’d assumed my parents would make him sleep in the spare room.

“Wait, what?”

“Sweetheart, neither of us are stupid. We know how things are at college, and as long as you’re being safe, I can’t tell you what to do anymore.”

Before I could say anything, Megan came over to pull me away. Arm in arm, we walked to the end of the garden, away from the house. Well, she led me, I merely went along with it.

“What’s up?” I asked her. Usually, she was a lot like her brother, constantly moving and talking, but now she was quiet and subdued. “Meg, seriously. You’re making me worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to get you on your own so we can talk about that gorgeous hunk you brought home.” Relief flooded through me and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” We sat down on an old swing my dad had made when I was a kid and talked. She peppered me with questions about college, the guys, the parties, and most of all, about John. She was a senior in high school and couldn’t wait for her own college experience. She’d chosen to stay in Canada to study.

I answered all of her questions, but we were soon interrupted by our being called to finally get some food. I was starving and practically sprinted over to where my dad was piling food on a table laden with salad, fried, and all kinds of family favorites. As I loaded up my plate, John hovered next to me, doing the same.

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in.” Megan’s voice was loud, making me turn my head. Charlie was walking toward us, wearing his hiking gear grinning at us all. I put my plate down and ran at him, our usual greeting.

“Trust you to show when the food’s ready.” I grinned at him as we broke apart and went back to the table to retrieve my plate, pulling it out of Charlie’s reach as he tried to steal a rib. “Get your own, there’s plenty.”

“But we always share, Trouble.” I rolled my eyes.

“Not today, Gillespie. This is all mine, and I may even have seconds.” I stuck my tongue out at him. A throat clearing behind me reminded me John was still with me. “Oh hey, you can finally meet John.”

“Yeah, great to finally meet you, man.” Charlie shook my boyfriend’s hand, his smile still on his face, but I noticed it didn’t completely reach his eyes.

“You too.”

“Well, I’m hungry, catch up later?” As Charlie nodded, I led John away so others could help themselves, over to a table with my parents. Why had that been more awkward than I’d expected? As I sat down, I caught Megan watching me, a strange look on her face.

:: ::

As the sun began to set, and things began to wind down, I decided to take John for a walk around the neighborhood I grew up in. We left the house, hand in hand, and walked along the street, passing Charlie’s house. I averted my eyes from the building, not wanting to make John think my attention wasn’t all on him.

“It’s nice here, very calm.” He commented as we reached the end of the street. “I grew up in the city, and it never got this quiet.” When I looked up at him, he was smiling softly.

“Come on, there’s a great playground just up the road.” I led the way, tugging on his hand as a laugh escaped me.

As we sat on the swings, both of us swaying back and forth as the sun set around us, bathing the sky with a vibrant orange. It was my favorite part of the day, one that made me think back over what had happened and made me realize that a new day was coming, a new chance to experience life. Charlie and I had spent so much time as kids on these very swings at this time, reflecting on choices we’d made throughout the day.

At the thought of my best friend, a slight movement caught my eye. When I looked at the path leading to the gate of the play park, I could see a figure retreating. Despite not being able to see the person’s face, I knew it was him. His shoulders were hunched, and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his shorts. The sound of John’s camera taking photos distracted me and I looked away for a minute. When I looked back, my best friend was nowhere to be seen.

“Stop taking photos of me.” I groaned, knowing he wouldn’t.

“How can I? you’re the most beautiful thing around.” Standing, John walked over to me and took hold of the chains with side of me to still the movement of the swing. He stood between my legs and bent his head and captured my lips in a kiss that started off slow and soft, but soon turned heated.

Letting go of the chains, John managed to lift me off the swing, holding me against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck. Slowly, he began to walk across the playground, only stopping when he reached the large wooden playhouse I’d played in as a kid.

Putting me on my feet and letting go, he removed the camera from around his neck and placed it in a safe place before climbing into the playhouse, removing his shirt and placing it on the wooden boards. When he looked over at me, his green eyes which were usually the color of spring grass were now the color of a lush, dark forest.

“What? Here? Are you trying to soil my childhood memories?”

“Totally, now come here before I have to take matters into my own hands.” He palmed the bulge in his shorts, locking eyes with me. With a laugh that was huskier than I’d ever sounded, I climbed in after him and straddled his thighs.

:: ::

Waking up at the crack of dawn, wrapped in John’s strong arms, in my childhood bedroom should have felt weird. But it didn’t. I was warm and content, but as we had a busy day planned, I couldn’t stay in our little cocoon. We had a camping trip to get ready for.

I crawled out of his arms and dived into the bathroom for a quick shower. By the time I emerged wrapped in a towel, John was sat up in my bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Come on you, we’re going camping. Up and at ‘em.” I was excited. It had been far too long since I’d been down to Fundy and I couldn’t wait to get on the road.

“Babe, it’s not even 6a.m.” He groaned.

“Yeah, and? Come on. Need to fuel up with a good breakfast.” I pulled on some clothes and left the room, skipping down the stairs. ‘My dad had always been an early riser, so it was no surprise to find him in the kitchen holding a steaming cup of coffee as he read a book at the breakfast bar.

“Morning daddy.” I kissed his cheek as I passed him to get to the coffee pot.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” I could hear the unasked question behind his actual question.

“Yes, like a log. Stop worrying about me, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“Don’t I know it. Please, just tell-”

“Dad. Nothing happened last night. And even if it had, I would be careful. I’m not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me.” Tyler interrupted us, grinning when I gave him the finger.

“Stop picking on your sister. And you,” he looked at me, “put that finger down.”

I laughed as I sipped at my coffee before telling them I was going out to grab the camping gear.

“I’ll go and make sure Charlie and Megan are up and ready.” Tyle put his own cup down and left the kitchen. I froze on the spot I stood in

Shit. I didn’t realize he’d invited them.

“Everything okay?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, just trying to work out what we need.” I lied before flashing him a quick smile. I could hear John coming downstairs. “Please, no interrogation.” I hissed at my dad. He drew a cross over his heart as my boyfriend entered the kitchen, his hair damp from the shower.

“Morning, sir.” He greeted my dad.

“Please, John. Sir was my father. Call me Frank like everyone else.”

After giving John a quick kiss, I went out to the shed to gather up everything we’d need for a couple of days down in Fundy.

An hour later, Tyler and I had expertly packed up the trunk of my car and were just about to climb in when Charlie and Megan pulled up in Charlie’s car.

“Ready to rock and roll?” He called out of his window, a wide grin on his face.

“You know it. Last one there buys lunch.” I called out our usual challenge as I jumped into the driver’s seat, Tyler urging John in as Charlie pulled away with a screech. Within minutes, the doors were closed, the engine started, and we were on our way.

“Is she always this competitive?” John turned to face my brother in the back seat as I turned the radio on, looking for something to sing along to.

“Only with Charlie, so yes. Constantly. They can make a contest out of everything.” I rolled my eyes.

“No I don’t.”

“Sis, I love you, but you do. You and Charlie are a fucking nightmare at times.”

“You’re talking bullshit.” I tried to change the subject, but Tyler was on a roll.

“Remember that time you two tried to eat more popping candy than the other and you ended up barfing all over yourself?”

“Really? You bring that up? I was fifteen, Ty. And I’d drank about a gallon of soda. It was the gas.”

“Whatever. What about the time when you-” I cut him off.

“That’s enough. Babe, did you go camping much growing up?” I looked at John who had gone quiet. He was looking out of the window, and it took me tapping him on the knee to get his attention.

“Nah, not really. I’m a city boy, so we didn’t really do the whole ‘great outdoors’ thing.”

“Not even on vacation?” Tyler asked.

“Nah, we did Disney and Universal, stuff like that.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat. This is our favorite place on Earth and your camera’s gonna get a good workout.” I smiled at him as I intertwined our fingers as I drove.

:: ::

Thanks to my brother have the bladder the size of a pea and three cans of soda, we arrived at our usual camping ground over half an hour after Charlie and Megan. They’d already set up their tent and were waiting for us as if they didn’t have a care in the world, music drifting softly from the stereo in his car.

“Tyler potty breaks, again?” Charlie asked, laughing.

“He travels back with you.” I grumbled as I opened the trunk and began to drag our gear out. Instantly, Charlie was on his feet, unfolding the tents to put them up with Tyler’s help.

“What do you need me to do?” John asked me.

“Take those coolers of food and drinks over to Megan. She’s always in charge of that stuff, makes sure we don’t live off candy and chips.”

I couldn’t help but watch the muscles in his back as he lifted the two coolers out of the trunk. He wasn’t overly muscly, but his form was impressive. I stood back and admired him for a minute.

“Hey, Trouble. Give me a hand with this. Your brother’s still useless.” Charlie called out.

By the time the tents were all up, one for Tyler, and one for me and John, we were all starving.

“Hey, losers. You owe us lunch.” Charlie called out, giving his sister a high five.

“Let me just get changed, and we’ll go.” In the middle of the camping ground was a café that served some of the best food. I ducked into the tent and changed my shirt and jeans for a bikini top and denim shorts. As I emerged from the small space, I pulled one of Charlie’s old cut off shirts over my head. “Right, let’s go and introduce John to poutine.

“What?”

“Oh, man. It’s the best.” Tyler slapped him on the back as he led the way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie watch as John took hold of my hand.

:: ::

The sun was setting and the five of us were sitting around a campfire. Charlie had his guitar and he and Megan were singing some of their favorite songs. As always, I was blown away by their talent and how well their voices blended together. I’d always been a bit jealous of how musical the Gillespie family was. All of them sang, played instruments, and dance – well Charlie didn’t that well, but he always gave his all when his sister dragged him into it.

John sat next to me, his camera lifted up to his face as he took photo after photo, something he’d been doing all day. He’d told me he’d been blown away by the beauty of the place and that gave me a warm feeling, being able to share one of my favorite places with him.

“Hey, Trouble. Your turn.” Charlie handed me the guitar.

“Not tonight, Gillespie.” I was exhausted and it had been far too long since I’d played or sang. I knew I was never going to sound as good as him and Megan; I rarely did.

“Nope, you’re not getting out of it. Come on, you know you wanna.” He was egging me on, and knew I’d give in eventually.

“Come on, it’s tradition.” Megan joined in with the cajoling as Tyler called out his two cents worth. With a sigh, I took the guitar from Charlie and propped it on my knee.

“Any requests?” I asked.

“Under the Bridge.” The Red Hot Chili Peppers song was one of my favorites and I loved singing it.

“I didn’t know you played.” John sounded surprised.

“Yeah, Charlie taught me a few years ago. It’s been a while though and I’m rusty as hell because I never got my own guitar.” I ran my fingers down the strings before making myself a bit more comfortable. “Hey, you got a spare pick?” I asked Charlie. He reached into the pocket on the front of his soft guitar case before leaning over to hand me the small piece of plastic. I couldn’t help but laugh at the poop emoji design on it. I’d ordered him a bunch of them as part of his birthday present the previous year.

I ran through the song in my mind reminding me of the lyrics and chords before I began to play.

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner

Sometimes I feel like my only friend

Is the city I live in, the city of angels

Lonely as I am, together we cry

I drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion

I walk through her hills 'cause she knows who I am

She sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy

Well, I never worry, now that is a lie

As I expected, Charlie joined in on the bridge, harmonizing with me. We’d always sang this song together. It had become a bit of a tradition at gatherings with our families and friends. As always when we sang together, Charlie and I locked eyes, a small smile on his face made me smile back as we sang. There was a connection between us when we sang, one that had been there from the day we became friends.

I don't ever wanna feel

Like I did that day

Take me to the place I love

Take me all the way

I don't ever wanna feel

Like I did that day

Take me to the place I love

Take me all the way

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Finally, the song came to an end and silence filled the air around us. Without saying anything, I handed the guitar and pick back to Charlie without looking at him. I leaned over, picked up my bottle of beer, and drained the last of it. For some reason, a weird feeling had come over me while we’d sung, and I didn’t know how to read it. In the end, I decided to ignore it and escape into my tent.

“I’m tired guys. I’m gonna turn in.” As I faked a yawn, I didn’t bother waiting for a response as I stood up, dropped the bottle in a trash bag, gave John a quick kiss, and crawled into my tent. As I stripped out of my hoodie and sweats and crawled into my sleep bag, Megan stuck her head through the flap.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.” It hadn’t really, and she knew it hadn’t. We hadn’t done anything different to what we would normally in Fundy.

“Okay…”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure. Night.” With a small smile she disappeared from the opening of the tent, leaving me to settle down and try to get to sleep.

I was still wide awake when John crawled into the tent an hour or so later. He tried not to make too much noise as he stripped down to his boxers before getting into his own sleeping bag. The lamp hanging from the tent roof was turned on low, just about lighting up the space around us.

“Hey.” I kept my voice low, knowing from experience how the sound travelled at night.

“Hey.” He repeated as I turned to face him, propping myself up on one elbow.

“Have you had a good day?”

“It’s been great. I can see why you guys love it out here.

“Yeah, it’s great. We’re lucky having all this pretty much on our doorstep. I couldn’t imagine not being able to get out here. I bet you got some great shots.”

���I did. I can’t wait to get back and start editing them. Some should work well for school too.”

“Hey,” I dropped my voice even lower. “Wanna join the bags together and… snuggle?” I waggled my eyebrows at him in the dim lighting, making him smile softly.

“Not tonight. I’m so tired after all the hiking and swimming you guys made me do today.” He turned his head to look at me. “That okay?”

“Of course.” I leaned over and kissed him before getting comfortable again against his solid form. This time, I did fall asleep.

:: ::

When I woke up, the light was bright around me, despite being inside the tent. I was also alone. Sitting up, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and crawled out of the tent. John was sitting on his own, a cup of coffee cradled between his hands.

“Morning.” I press a kiss to his cheek as I sit down.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks, looking at my bare legs. I’m still only in t-shirt I slept in.

“Not at all. It’s not that cold.” I chuckle as I pour myself a coffee. There’s a slight hint of steam in front of my face as I speak.

“It’s freezing, babe.”

“I’m Canadian, remember. This is a gorgeous spring morning.” I lean over and give him another kiss, this time it’s more than a simple and perfunctory peck. John’s hand cups the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. When we pull apart, I notice he’s breathing a little heavier than he was before and it makes me grin.

“You’re crazy.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Tyler’s voice surprises the both of us. When I turn, he’s standing over us, smirking at me.

“Uh… why am I suddenly nervous?” John asks my brother. They seem to have gotten on really well which pleases me. Tyler tipped me out of my seat before making himself comfortable in my place. Glaring at him, I moved around and sat on John’s lap.

“How are you with heights?” Tyler asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“How do you feel about deep water?”

I knew where this was going, so I decided to go and grab a shower in the shower block. As I ducked into the tent, I heard John exclaim.

“She does what?”

“Yeah, she and Charlie cliff dive.” I turned to look at John and laughed at the look of horror on his face. “It started out as a dare, of course, and now they do it every time we’re here.”

Leaving the two of them talking, I grab my washbag and take a walk over to the block of showers. Thankfully, there isn’t much of a queue and I’m able to snag one pretty quickly. The water’s not exactly hot, which means I don’t dawdle as I wash. Eventually, I emerge fully dressed, a towel wrapped around my hair and almost bump into Charlie.

“Woah, hey. You’re up late.” He commented, steadying me so I wouldn’t fall over.

“Not really.” It was barely 8 a.m., which to Charlie was practically a lie in. “I was up before you.”

“Nope. I was up at sunrise and went for a walk.” I rolled my eyes.

“Of course you were.”

“Are you heading back?”

“Yeah, I want to get ready for the cliffs.” I grinned at him. He fell into step beside me, and we walked back to the tents together.

“Remember that time you pushed me before I was ready, and I belly flopped so hard?”

“Oh my God, you screamed like a little girl who got a pony for her birthday. It was hilarious.”

“It also hurt like a fucking bitch.”

Charlie and I approached our tents, laughing to find John, Tyler, and Megan watching us as if we’d lost our minds.

“Who’s ready for the cliffs?” I asked, wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes. The memory of Charlie screaming lived in my head, rent free, and I couldn’t not laugh about it.

“Uh…” John looked nervous. After throwing my washbag into the tent, I bounced over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie turn his back and crawl into the tent he shared with his sister.

“No need to be nervous. You don’t have to dive if you don’t want to, just stay near the top, take photos, and enjoy the view. It’s all Megan and Ty do, because they’re both massive chickens.” As I spoke, I looked over at my brother who was flipping me off. “Don’t decide now. See how you feel nearer the time.”

Once we were at the cliffs, Megan spread out a blanket and sat down, a book in her hand. Tyler joined her, scrolling through his phone. John and I stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the ocean. We were nowhere near the top, as over the years we’d worked out this was the best place for jumping into the water without it taking an age to get back, but it was high enough to get my blood pumping.

“Yeah… I think I’ll sit this one out.” Moving back, John joined Tyler and Meghan, but remained standing, his camera at the ready. I moved back a little but stayed fairly close to the edge so I could get ready.

“Gillespie?” I called out my challenge as I stripped out of my shorts and tank tops, kicking my sandals off, revealing a mismatched bikini. Behind me, I heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to grin at John, but he had his back to me and was taking photos of the view.

A roar sounded and Charlie ran past me, launching himself off the edge of the cliffs. He ‘battle cry’ could be heard the entire way down until it was broken off by a splash.

With a grin on my face, I followed, dipping myself forward into a dive. I cut through the water, plunging deep before arcing up to break the surface.

“Show off.” Charlie called out as he tread the water.

“Of course. I need to make you look bad at something.” I swam over to him, taking hold of his hand and pulling him back to shore so we could start the climb back to where the others waited. There was a lot of pushing and shoving between the two of us as we made out way, and when we finally reached them, I was out of breath from laughing so much. Charlie’s arm was slung over my shoulder as he struggled to keep himself upright.

“Then you just whipped your top off and jumped.” He was howling with laughter. “That’s why we’ve never given you tequila since.”

I gave him a friendly shove.

“It wasn’t just the tequila, and you know it Gillespie. We hadn’t eaten all day, then you pulled out Jose and it was game over.” He grabbed me around the waits and walked toward the edge, as if he was going to throw me. Admittedly, if he did, it wouldn’t have been the first time. I screamed at him to put me down, hearing my brother and Megan laughing. Eventually, he did as I asked before diving off the edge again, this time executing an almost perfect dive. “Asshole.” I muttered as I grabbed a towel to wrap around my waist.

It wasn’t until I sat down next to him, that I realized John was very quiet and was scrolling through his phone.

:: ::

Arriving back at my house early evening, I was ready for a hot shower and my own bed. Tyler ducked into the house while John and I unloaded the trunk and stored the camping gear back where it belonged. He’d slept for most of the trip back, and I could tell something was bothering him.

After having dinner with my parents, John excused himself to try and get some sleep. It had been a pretty full on couple of days, but not enough to wipe him out. After a few minutes, I decided to go and check on him. I didn’t want him getting sick or something.

When I got to my room, I was surprised to find him packing his stuff into his bag.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to come upstairs and my voice made him jump even though I hadn’t spoken particularly loudly.

“I’m heading back to my dorm.” I moved into my room, closing the door behind me. When I reached up to touch his shoulder, he flinched away from me.

“Woah. Why?”

“Look, I can’t play second best. I really like you, but it’s very clear that your heart lies elsewhere.”

“John, babe. I have no idea what you’re talking about here.” I put my hand on his arm, trying to get him to turn and face me. Eventually he did, sinking onto the edge of my bed.

“Look, we’ve been having fun, right?” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. “Neither of us expected anything serious, and while I thought I might have been falling for you, the past few days have made me realize you could never feel the same way about me.”

“W-w-what?”

When John looked up at me, meeting my eyes with his gorgeous green ones, there was no sadness in them. There was only what I could describe as an acceptance of some sort. It confused the hell out of me.

“I know you tell everyone he’s your best friend, but it’s obvious to everyone who spends any kind of time with the two of you that you’re both head over heels for the other.”

I couldn’t help it, but I burst out laughing.

“Me and Charlie? No way. You’ve got it all wrong, believe me.”

“See, you say that, and I think on the surface that you believe it, but deep down… I’m a photographer. I literally look at details of the things around me all the time, and there’s no mistaking there’s something going on between the two of you. It’s just taking both of you some time to realize it; although, I think Charlie might be there already. He’s crazy jealous of me.” A snort escaped me before I could stop it. “I’m serious. Whenever we were together the past few days, he either turned his back, walked away, or interrupted us. You may see him as your best friend, but he’s in love with you. And I can’t compete with that.”

Standing back up, John finished packing his stuff, telling me he had a train booked in an hour. Knowing I wasn’t going to change his mind, I offered him a ride to the station, but he refused saying he’d book an uber.

Rather than watch him leave, I went out into the garden and sat on the swing. I’d never had a breakup, so I had nothing to compare it to, but I didn’t feel as sad as I expected to. In the movies, girls lay in their beds for days on end with messy hair and mascara running down their faces until their friends ran an intervention. Yeah, I was sad that John had broken up with me, but it felt like I was losing a friend more than a boyfriend. Even if the reasoning was ludicrous. There was no way on Earth Charlie Gillespie, the guy all the girls wanted, was in love with me. Sure, I knew he loved me – we were best friends, but that was it.

As the sun set around me, I finally made my way inside. I could hear the TV playing in the lounge, but didn’t feel like being pitied by my family, so I made my way up to my bedroom. When I was there, it felt empty without John’s big, solid frame. He’d only been here two days, but he’d made an impression on my space.

Not sure what to do with myself, I sat on my bed, hearing a crinkle. There was an envelope on my pillow.

I’m sorry it ended like this, but you need to know and understand that I don’t hate you – just in case you were wondering. Yeah, I’m upset, but I’m a big boy and I’ll get over it, and when I do, I hope we can still be friends. I honestly love spending time with you, and meeting your family was great.

I know you didn’t believe me when I told you about Charlie, but I hope these prove it to you.

See you soon, John.

Inside the envelopes were a couple of polaroid photos. I’d forgotten he’d brought his along with his big one. We’d all taken turns taking silly shots of one another, shaking them as they developed around the campfire we’d had.

The first was me holding Charlie’s guitar. I was clearly singing, looking at him, but there was something in the way I looked at my best friend. A softness to my face that could only be interpreted as affection – unsurprising, considering how much he meant to me, how much we meant to one another.

The second, was after our first jump at the cliffs. We were walking toward the camera, arms wrapped around one another, laughing. If it was anyone else, I would say it was quite an intimate photo, but it was me and Charlie. We were always like that, always touching, always laughing.

Putting the letter and photos on my desk, I lay back on my bed. I was confused as hell and didn’t know what to think or who to talk to.

As if summoned, my phone began to ring, Lena’s name flashing on the screen. When I answered, she didn’t bother with a greeting.

“So, when are you and pretty boy getting it on?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“John text me, told me what happened, said you might need someone to talk to. He finally saw what I saw.”

“And what did you see?”

“You and Charlie boy. All the feels.”

“Lena, there are no feels. We’re friends, best friends.”

“Honey, I know you’re a bit blind to the fact that that boy is crazy in love with you, probably has been for years, and you…”

“I what?”

“You look at him like he hung the moon. I don’t look at my best friend like that. I know it’s a lot to take in, but think about it, logically. Try to look at your relationship the way an outsider would, then tell me you’re not gonna end up ridiculously happy, living in some gorgeous apartment somewhere, surrounded by gorgeous babies.”

“And what if I come to the realization he’s just my friend?”

“Then I would say you’re blind as fuck. Look, I gotta go, my nanna’s lethal at dominoes, so I gotta make sure she doesn’t cheat. I’ll see you in a few days.” Lena ended the call. I was no clearer on the situation I had been before we’d spoken, but I least I had something to do.

Could everyone be right, and I was wrong? I loved Charlie, adored him, but I wasn’t in love with him. We were friends, the best, and that was all. Wasn’t it? I was pretty sure it was for me.

I needed air. I made my way back downstairs, grabbing my car keys from the side unit and went outside. It was late, but maybe a drive would help. As I unlocked my car, I heard my name being called. Turning, I saw Charlie jogging over to me.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I just need to clear my head.”

“Where’s the big man.” Something flashed in his eyes as he asked about John. I tried not to read too much into it, but if I didn’t know better, it looked like jealousy. I gave myself a mental slap around the back of the head for projecting John and Lena’s words onto myself.

“He left. Went back to campus. We’re over.” Immediately, Charlie’s arms were wrapped around me and I was pulled in tight against his chest. My senses were overwhelmed by the feel of him, the sound of his heartbeat, and the scent of him. It was too much and I pulled away.

“Are you okay? I know you liked him.”

“Yeah, I’m good. It wasn’t that serious.”

“Serious enough to sleep with him.” An undertone of something I couldn’t work  out laced his voice.

“Charles. I wasn’t a virgin when I met John. I may not have had any serious relationships, or relationships in any capacity, but I wasn’t innocent. Just the way you’re not, so don’t pull that bullshit with me.”

Boys at high school may have been wary of Charlie, but he wasn’t around at college when I discovered meaningless one night stands weren’t for me.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see you hurting.”

“I’m not. Maybe I should be more upset, but I can’t fake it.”

“You sound upset.” I looked up at him, stepping back slightly to move closer to my car. “I don’t like it when you’re upset, even when you don’t think you are, like that time when-”

“Look, I’m not here for a trip down memory lane. I want to go for a drive. Talk tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He turned to walk away an I pulled open the driver’s side door. Before I could sink into the seat, I was spun around. Charlie had hold of my wrist in one hand, but it was a gentle hold. He slammed the door and walked toward me. Nerves took over me and I back away from him, my back hitting the car behind me.

When he let go of my wrist, he placed his hands either side of me, resting against the cool metal of my car. Swallowing, I locked eyes with him, feeling very unsure of myself. I opened my mouth to ask him what was happening but didn’t manage the words before he crashed his lips against mine.

.

.

.

.

.

Tagging: 

@dream-a-little-bigger-x @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @morganayennefertyrell​ @lovesanimals​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @echocharm17618 @kinda-really-lost @n0wornever @all-in-fangirl @kcd15 @charliesmountains @amazinggracy @happinessinthedarkesttimes @xplrreylo @5sosmukefan

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.28}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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It was the middle of March when a simple trip to Hogsmeade turned into the beginning of the very end.

Robin had let Cas and Jorien talk her into coming along to town this Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had used the opportunity to sell another batch of rare ingredients in the small dingy shop she had actually come to appreciate for just that at this point. After dropping the girls off at Honeydukes, she'd gone on to the potions shop by herself, scared the shop owner beyond reason yet again just for her own amusement, and left a little while later with an even larger sum of galleons in her bag than the previous time she had been there. Really, it was incredible for just how much some of the stuff she possessed sold even around here. Thus, content and smiling to herself for the well accomplished mission, she made her slow way back from the shady part of the village to where she was supposed to meet the girls on high street in twenty minutes. Hopefully time would pass quickly… it was terribly cold outside, even for March, and Robin couldn't wait for a nice hot cup of coffee in whatever cafe the girls would surely drag her into next.

When she crossed from one mud covered street into an even narrower alley of much the same sodden ground, her smile was wiped off her face however, in the very instant a repelling spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying backwards into the half frozen dirt of the larger road before she even had the time to register what was happening to her. Suddenly void of every air in her lungs, Robin gasped, then yelped when her back hit the hard ground and unruly stone, sending a hot searing pain up her spine that made her eyes water. Adrenaline rushed into her veins, as flooring as it was exhilarating, and while her mind was spinning as it tried to grasp for a sense of what was happening, she already had her wand in her hand only for it to be knocked straight out of there again by an Expelliarmus spoken by a very much familiar voice. Oh no…

"A path of shadows isn't a good place for my little songbird to dwell in… It isn't safe out here. The cats might come to prey on you." Damion Morgan sighed exaggeratedly, while he picked Robin's wand off the ground before she ever had the chance to reach for it. "Get up now dear, before you become as sodden as the ground."

Robin's mind spun in hazy circles of panic as she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Really, it was her bad luck that it was his turn to supervise this particular Hogsmeade weekend. And away from the school, away from anyone who would witness the incident, she was as good as doomed alone with him in this bloody back alley. For a second, her mind sped through her options. Apparating away? No, not without her wand. Wandless magic, perhaps? In the matter of a few seconds she tried every defensive spell she knew she could do without her wand, running a string of words through her mind with as much focus as she could fathom, but they all proved ineffective against the smug man in front of her. Fuck… he certainly wouldn't make it as easy for her as the last few times, he had already shown her glimpses of that back on new year's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as untalented in the dark arts as she had always tried to convince herself of.

"You needn't try, darling. After the little stunt you pulled on me on the night of the welcoming feast, I have seen to it that my own resistance to your admirable spellwork was fit to counter. And after years of studying you in my class, I know just what spells you have up your sleeve." He told her just in that moment with a disgustingly sweet smile. Dropping his arm with his wand to his side then, he took a step closer to Robin to be right in front of her now. "I had so hoped we could do this in another way. I had hoped it would never have to come this far, if only you had chosen me as I have chosen you. Now, all there is left for either of us is pain."

"Indeed." Robin replied in a breathless huff, and while she didn't understand a single thing of what he was saying with his many words, she knew that she wouldn't get a better chance than this. Without wasting any time overthinking for once, she curled her hand into a fist and punched Morgan straight in the face as strongly as she could. Magic was nice and all, but sometimes the muggle way to do things did work just as well. The blazing pain, the sting and burn that spread from her knuckles up into her entire arm in an instant was well worth it as she discovered, for Morgan dropped both Robin's wand and his own when he instinctively clutched his hands to his hurting face.

What followed then definitely followed too fast. Robin went to claw for her wand immediately, but so did Morgan with his own. Both reached theirs in a striking simultaneity, and in the very same they directed at each other their respectively chosen spells. It wasn't a matter of thought, of conscious action or strategy, but rather an adrenaline driven instinctive defense that made Robin send yet another stunning spell at Morgan. And it seemed no less instinctive for him to send a curse to her in return. Both spells hit their target, both too quick and intricate to deflect. Morgan once more landed on his behind in the offgoing alley, groaning but unfortunately still very much in consciousness. Robin on the other hand let out a bone chilling scream, then crippled into a heap on the very ground she had stood upon, ridden by such a sudden explosion of pain in every cell of her body that it replaced both sense of self and thought. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move… Her wand lay only inches from her hand, but she found the distance impossible to cross, impossible to think of fighting back at all. All she could do was to keep her eyes wide open as she lay curled up on her side in repeated shivers of pain that drowned out even the cold around her, beneath her, and to watch how Morgan came approaching her once again. His wand raised and pointed at her with a sneer on his face.

"You will have to be better than that, my dear…" He sighed in a raspy voice, then finally crouched down right in front of her and almost affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You will never succeed if you do not even try. The time has almost come, I'm afraid, and I can no longer hold it off. Neither can I resist you anymore. Oh, how I wish you just could've been mine."

All Robin could do in return was to whimper, as pathetic as it was, but she had no capacity left within her being to care about anything but the pain that was eating her up from the inside. Only in blurred lines above her in her quaking field of vision, Morgan's face twisted in as much agony as she felt, and yet he wore an expression of the utmost sympathy. Robin suddenly felt sick and terribly exposed, and she turned her face downward in a vain attempt to shield herself from the sight of him. Pressing herself into the mud and stone beneath her even if the rash pebbles cut into her skin like a million shards of cruel fate.

"I could end it right here, you know… I should end it here and in this instant." He spoke again, through a layer of sincere remorse. "But I cannot do it if you do not resist. I… I can't, Robin. Not like this. Please don't make me do it like this."

The pain in her body surged to new heights with every word he said, and she let out a strangled sob, a cry of sheer agony even, and perhaps an equal amount of fear. Every atom of her body was torn apart, stabbed with a million knives over and over again while her soul was split into a state between life and death. So much for fighting back… so much for doing anything to protect herself. There was nothing she could do now. She's had her chance, and she'd waisted it on the mildest repelling spell she knew. A bloody idiot, that she was, and nothing more. Perhaps, for that, she did deserve death after all.

No. She was better than that. Robin couldn't give in, not now, not like this, not ever. She had made a mistake by choosing the wrong spell, yes, but she had to work with the consequences now. She would not give up. Never. She couldn't do that to Snape… after all he had been through in his life, he deserved happiness that lasted longer than bloody two and a half months before the next tragedy came haunting him. So did she. They deserved better, and no bloody Damion Morgan could get in the way of that. With the most miserably shaking hand, she tried reaching for her wand, fingertips brushing against the dark wood after what seemed like eternities of pain. Do it do it do it do it do it… Her instincts begged her to finally make use of one of the thousands of horrible curses she had come across over the years, or even to just apparate away for good. But when her sight fell onto Morgan's highly expectant, almost begging expression, her reason won over the instinct. He wanted her to fight. Wanted her to try running. And she would not play this game by his rules anymore.

With another pained whine, Robin clasped her wand in her hand, holding both tightly pressed against her chest, then she rolled onto her back to look up at Morgan's twisted face above her, and even further up at the blindingly white sky. A new wave of maddening pain, she could hardly breathe. Hardly think.

"You really are quite beautiful, you know… Even now, like this." Morgan sighed sadly while his eyes traced the paths Robin's angry tears had painted on her muddied skin. "And while I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see. I must say though that the earrings are a nice addition. Very… modern."

His words still made no sense to Robin's mind, not now, not when the pain took away most of her thoughts in the first place. But she knew that she wanted him to stop playing with her. Think, idiot, through the bloody haze of pain! She'd done it before, pushing the pain away behind the walls in her mind… just enough to make room for reason. Just to focus, just for a moment.

He expected her to fight, or to run, to act in any way they had been taught in his very own class. Therefore he must be looking out for those spells, ready to stop her, ready to attack in return. He wanted her to resist, to fight back, that much had been clear for a long while now… and if she attacked him like that indeed, she very likely wouldn't survive the backlash he had probably been preparing for months now. At least not in her current state of painforced weakness. A state she had brought upon herself when she had let him put that curse on her. A curse of the kind he could only uphold if he put his entire focus on it. Gods! That was the flaw in his actions she had been looking for.

Still very much trembling, she lifted her hand to point her wand up at the sky, then closed her eyes when Morgan started to smile at her doings. He was still waiting for her to make the move that would finally allow him to murder her after all… but she wouldn't do him that favor. She had learned long ago to follow her reason, not her fight or flight instincts. This had to work, she had to be better. For herself, for Snape, for her friends. A faint Lux Obscurius left her lips in even less than a breath as her eyes flew open again, and a broken second later she could feel the earth beneath her vibrating when black lightnings hit the ground around her like a relentless hailstorm of her own fury.

It was enough. Enough to catch Morgan by surprise, to make him lose touch with his spellwork, his focus on Robin, and when the echo of soundless thunder overtook the air around them, the curse's pain was gone from Robin's mind, pushed out of her body by enough adrenaline that forced her onto her feet in an instant. Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she pointed it at Morgan who staggered to his feet a second later when sound returned to the world.

He tried throwing another curse at her, but Robin had no problem deflecting it even without a word now that she knew what to expect. He tried again and again, growing in desperation and anger while losing in focus and determination, which made it all the easier for Robin to counter while her body and mind slowly recovered from the horrible pain. Luckily the curse had only been on her for a mere few minutes. She was still hurting now… but more so from her hard landing on the ground and a few scratches than from any kind of magic. So far so good.

"Haven't you learned anything throughout the years?!" Morgan cried out at her after a moment, and the string of spells thrown at Robin stopped for the moment as he caught his breath. "You are supposed to fight me! I'm trying to kill you and you just stand there like it's none of your goddamn business! Defend yourself properly, for heaven's sake!!! Try at least! Please!"

"No." Robin got out more or less calmly, but she knew better than to let his talking distract her again. She had made the mistake of letting him catch her off guard once, of underestimating what he would do to her if he got the chance. She wouldn't do it a second time. Neither would she attack him though, even if she had in past times almost hoped for a situation like this. An opportunity to get rid of him. But now that it was here, right in front of her, she found that she couldn't even curse him. Leave alone kill him, like she had always thought she would want to if it came this far. But she simply couldn't bring herself to do either.

"You are just like her, you know that?!" He yelled across the short distance between them, half in laughter, half in despair. "You're too bloody perfect, too much of everything I need to live. I have never been one for irony, but you, love, you are perhaps fate's cruelest twist of bloody irony in existence!"

Robin didn't respond to that. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, not when he clearly was having a conversation with someone that wasn't her. Not really, anyway. He was just insane; only a madman talking nonsense who was trying to kill her for fun or his own delusional reasons whenever they met outside of class. That was all there was to it, all there could to be. Deep down however, Robin was starting to doubt just that more and more. He didn't seem insane… only caught up in a different reality than her. She was merely clinging onto her version of things for her own good at this point, and she would continue to do so until there was a more reasonable explanation. But for now, she stayed silent either way.

"You know that I will not stop trying, don't you? I cannot stop!" Morgan went on instead, loudly and unbothered in his desperation as if they weren't still in the middle of Hogsmeade. "And unless you kill me first, there is nothing you can do to change your fate!"

The loud banging of a wooden door to Robin's left suddenly caught both her and Morgan's attention then, as it flew open harshly before a bulky barrel of a man came stomping out with a deep frown on his face. Must be the backdoor to one of the taverns, Robin remembered just then. A truly lucky coincidence.

"What's all that shouting and yelling about now again?! Y'all be scaring my customers away!" The burly man bellowed in an instant, and his small angry eyes scanned Robin at first, then Morgan, and finally both their battered and dirty appearances. His anger turned into weariness in an instant, and he addressed Robin with an almost reluctant gaze and a motion towards Morgan. "Need any help dealing with that fellow?"

"Thank you…" Robin replied with a polite but very much feigned smile, then didn't even take her eyes off the barman while she sent a silent Stupefy at the still distracted Morgan, who registered her sudden attack only way too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw how the professor was thrown back and down the road by the spell, then stayed lying on the ground in a motionless heap. Truly unconscious, at long last. And yet, Robin's eyes did not once leave the flabbergasted bar owner who stared at her in return as she went on with her statement after a breath. "But I believe I am just fine."

"I, uh… Sorry, for… for interrupting." The man finally stammered out after a moment of taking in Robin's perfectly feigned calm and Morgan's unconscious body. "I'm just… gonna get back to my bar and leave you to your own business."

"Actually," Robin was quick to stop him from vanishing through the door, as she took a determined step towards him, "I would very much appreciate it if I could shortcut to high street through your… establishment."

… … …

Ten minutes later, Robin had almost reached the shop where she was supposed to meet Cas and Jorien. She'd gotten rid of the mud and water that had clung onto her in chunks before setting foot onto high street, which then had left her only with messy hair, a bleeding scratch over her eyebrow and too many thoughts yet to be dealt with. A look into one of the shop windows confirmed that she still looked quite as terrible as she felt; cold, confused, exhausted and anxious enough to burst. Putting her hair up into a bun and a stasis charm onto the scratch to provisionally keep it from bleeding did a good enough job at fixing the outside flaws, but her mind remained troubled as it could be when she finally went to seek out the girls. She was 10 minutes late anyway, no need to let them wait even longer than that.

But even when she slowly approached their meeting spot, she couldn't quite move past what had just happened. Sure, Morgan had hurt her before, had said things along the same lines of her belonging to him, but this just surpassed it all. She didn't doubt that he truly wanted to kill her, even if her refusal to fight back seemed to have hindered him in that today. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake another time, wouldn't hold back nor let his twisted emotions overcome him. His intention was more than clear at this point; his reasons were not. Because as much as Robin wanted to blame it all on insanity, the things he'd said and done, the sincere desperation and agony displayed on his face when he had begged her to fight back just didn't add up anymore. There was a reason to the things he did, a very much sane one, but it was yet veiled in darkness. He said he would try to end her again… So she would have to find out what the hell was going on before then. Why he had said those weird things that still kept nagging at her mind in the strangest way, ringing some distant bells she couldn't quite put her finger to. Gods, she felt exhausted enough for her hands to shake even beyond the cold… it was a miracle that her legs hadn't given out yet.

"Finally you grace us with your presence, Robin!!! Jorien and I have been freezing to death out here for the last ten minutes!" Cas' relieved and reproachful voice pulled Robin out of her thoughts, but it also made her jump in an instant. Visibly, for once. Great…

"Are you alright?" Jorien asked immediately with a big frown on her face, just when Robin came to stand in front of them. "You look-… There's really no nice way to say it. Tired and battered is the mildest one, probably."

"Oh, you know me… always running into one thing or another." She replied with a sigh and a half smile that was more feigned than sincere. "But yeah, I'm quite exhausted, and way too cold. I'm sorry I made you wait, I was held up and couldn't get away from the situation for the longest time."

"It's fine…" Cas sighed as well, a lot milder in her expression already. "We were late anyway, so we really only waited a couple minutes out here."

That finally brought a sincere smile to Robin's lips, even if a small one. Of course they'd been late as well… they always were. Well, thank Morgan for holding her up long enough to spare her the waiting time. Robin snorted at her own thought, and couldn't quite understand why almost dying was suddenly so amusing. Then again, Snape had always been saying that her humour could be quite morbid at times. He was right, as always. Gods, she just wanted to be back with him already, wrapped up in a tight hug, telling him all about what happened… but he was still stuck with the dunderheads who had earned themselves detention this week, and wouldn't be free until after dinnertime. Which was one of the main reasons why Robin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade today in the first place.

"If you're exhausted, we perhaps better skip the next part of our grandiose plans for the day…" Jorien said, thereby regaining Robin's attention in time for her to see the sheer disappointment on both girls' faces. "It probably was a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go to a cafe instead."

"No, it's alright! Don't worry about me." Robin replied in an instant, when her inability to bear seeing the girls sad got the better of her. Damn her empathy, a cozy cafe sounded nice right now… and whatever plans they had made surely wouldn't be nearly as relaxing. But as much as she annoyed herself by doing so, she couldn't help putting them and their happiness first. "We can do whatever you guys originally planned. It's fine!"

The smiles were back on their faces in an instant, as was the excitement and mischief, and while Robin didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, she was prone to find out when they immediately started dragging her off down the street. Two minutes later, they stepped through the door to one of the surprisingly many clothes shops in the small village, and this one obviously seemed to cater more to the younger generations. That was the only thing Robin could tell from the look around she had immediately upon their entrance. A nervous habit, really, that had only intensified now after getting so stupidly taken by surprise earlier.

"So…" Cas started with a grin while she walked ahead in obvious certainty where she wanted to go. "You know how in a week I'm going home with Simon for the easter holidays, right?"

"You mentioned it a couple million times, yes." Robin sassed in feigned annoyance, but her small smile was a sincere one yet again. How could she forget, when both Cas and Simon had been speaking of little else over the last few days. It was rather adorable, really, how excited both of them were to spend time together outside of school for once, at last, after over a year of dating. Robin had the utmost understanding for that, and for them in general.

"Funny." Cas rolled her eyes at Robin, but then went on while she slalomed around shelves and tables of clothes with the others in tow. "Anyway, I wanted to get some nicer things for the occasion. You know, like some pajamas and underwear and stuff… Everything I have is terribly childish or boring and just meh."

Oh dear… Robin could relate more to that than she wanted to admit, and that level of subtle embarrassment wasn't something she currently wanted to deal with. Nor did she want to discuss these matters with her roommates, even if they seemed to have no reluctance to do so the other way round. To her luck, they at least weren't here because of her. Or so she sincerely hoped.

"To shortcut Cas' elaborations, we picked out some stuff for her, but we couldn't really decide and weren't too sure if it was too much or too little, so we were hoping you could give your usual overly-rational evaluation." Jorien concluded factually, and Robin only nodded her agreement with a silent sigh.

This really was the most horrible timing; she had no room in her mind for insignificant matters like clothing! There was only fear and anxiety and concern… and Morgan's words still nagging at her. 'You are just like her', he'd said. Like who? Did Robin remind him of someone who all of his anger and affection likewise were actually directed at? 'While I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see.'... What the hell was that supposed to mean? Robin always made a conscious effort to avoid Morgan as much as possible, to the extent of almost hiding from him during mealtimes. They only really met in defense classes these days. So he really hardly got to see her indeed… but he looked at her being every day? One of the photos of her that had been in the paper, perhaps? But then he would see her as well, not her being. Ugh, this was just-...

"Earth to Robin!" Cas snapped her fingers in front of Robin's face with raised eyebrows. They were standing in front of a line of changing cubicles now, or rather Jorien and Robin were, while Cas stood in the door of one and moved back towards the mirror inside where she looked at herself. Robin had to frown when her attention returned to the current moment. Cas was still wearing her own clothes, but in the mirror, her reflection wore the piece she was trying to show to her friends.

"Interesting spellwork with the mirrors…" Robin mused before she could help it. "Is that a common thing in clothes shops around here?"

"...yes?!" Cas scoffed incredulously at the –to her– obviously inane question. "You really don't go shopping often enough. The mirrors are charmed to show you what the pieces would look like on you. Then you only have to try on the things you actually like on yourself for the right size. We've done that already, so it's just deciding between the looks now. What do you think?"

With an almost impressed expression, Robin studied both the mirror and Cas' reflection for a moment to actually make an effort at last. Perhaps this wasn't quite as terrible as she'd thought… Sure, it seemed kind of ridiculous to be here shopping now after she'd had to fight for her life half an hour ago. But perhaps that was why it was a good idea after all; a remedy for all the ghosts in her head, the fear and anxiety in her body. It might do her good to get some distance to the events before trying to understand them.

Thus for the next forty minutes Robin did her best to actually focus on the girls and on helping Cas with her shopping. They really had picked some nice things that weren't too over the top, and after Robin had given her commentary and evaluation as well, the selection Cas was left with was well worth their efforts. Robin was almost led to believe that allowing them to drag her here hadn't been quite such a terrible idea as she'd originally thought.

That was until Jorien and Cas were fooled enough by Robin's desperate efforts to push through this endeavor with the very last of her energy and enthusiasm to try to make her try things on as well. And that Robin really didn't have the mindset for today. Being alive was currently a higher priority to her than being well dressed, which the two younger girls of course had no understanding for. They couldn't, really, and Robin wouldn't burden them with it either. Thus she agreed to let them pick whatever while she would patiently stand in front of the mirror to let them gawk at the reflection, as long as she wouldn't have to actually physically change. Or make an effort to show sincere interest in any of the pieces any longer.

For a while the girls picked all kinds of both horrendous and actually quite nice pieces just to giggle and fawn over and Robin simply let them. As long as they were having fun, she couldn't care less if they made her reflection look like a clown or a magazine model. And while her reflection's garments changed from t-shirts to dresses to pajamas to lingerie, she resumed her pondering of Morgan's words and actions as well as her own. Ignoring the outside world as successfully as ever for a good twenty minutes at least.

"How strange…" Cas' half humoured and half confused huff was what pulled Robin back into the reality around her at last, and she followed the girl's line of sight to her underwear-clad reflection. Good gods… she looked like the closest thing to a piece of pastry she'd ever seen. Or an 18th century mistress. Or both.

"What's so strange?" Jorien asked a short moment later, and frowned at Robin's ridiculous reflection as well.

"I haven't really noticed before either, because I was admittedly distracted by the fun pieces of clothing, but it's really quite obvious now." Cas replied and crossed her arms over her chest with an almost smug expression. "Tell me, what do you see?"

Jorien scoffed, then rolled her eyes, but went to answer nonetheless. "Well, I see Robin, looking like an ancient painting of some royal hooker. Don't tell me you see any more than that in the mirror…"

The words sent a surge of immediate anxiety and adrenaline through Robin, and while she thought that it was due to the discomfort upon looking like a tart at first, the impression soon was replaced by the nagging in the back of her mind that picked up stronger than ever. Her mind started spinning too fast, thoughts tumbling over each other in both panic and reason. Gods, she could almost grasp the thought, the words that were haunting her now.

"Well duh…" Cas rolled her eyes, then tapped against the glass on the height of Robin's ribs. "There's no scar, idiots! As far as I remember, Robin has a rather visible scar on her rib cage, while the reflection doesn't. Isn't that odd? As if the reflection isn't even you."

A wall inside Robin's mind collapsed in that instant, and buried her under the impossible weight of its ashes. Its implications. She could hardly breathe. Paintings… Reflections… Scars… Earrings. A wild rush of adrenaline. Panic. She felt sick as soon as she finally understood.

"Robin, are you alright? You look terrible again… Did we say something wrong?" Jorien inquired instead of reacting to Cas' explanation, and half a second later both girls were gazing at her in concern. Robin had no capacity left to care that she worried them. She had no capacity for anything outside of her own mind.

"I need to get back to the castle. Now." She said in a quiet voice, staring at her own eyes in the mirror for just a moment longer before spinning on her heels and making for the shop's exit. Every cell in her body stood on edge, every emotion locked away behind the thickest walls she could muster up to cope with reality. Right now, she only needed reason, as much of it as she could get. And in a spurt of just that she looked over her shoulder at the two confused girls once more before she reached the door. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something very important that I have forgotten about for far too long. Do go on shopping without me though, and be sure to tell me all about it at dinner, yes?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, she was out of the door and on her way back to the castle. Her lungs hurt, heart racing, head spinning, and her eyes stung terribly from both the wind and unshed tears of raw anxiety. Perhaps it was only the shock of realisation hitting her, or perhaps she was really quite so scared. She didn't know if she hoped to be right or wrong in the unnerving suspicion that had fallen upon her like the darkest of night. Because frankly, either way would end in a nightmare.

______________________________

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[sapiowoman28]

Try (Chapter 6): Madam's Party

Pairing: Mark x Y/N x Johnny

Genre: smut, fluff, undercover au with cranky undercover agents

Warnings: mentions of Mark's mental health issues, brief mention of bathroom sex, drug use, Jaehyun is miserable, Doyoung is back, Taeyong saves the day, mentions of a fight. Oh, and Ten doesn't like women hitting on him.

Note: the next few chapters after this one and the next will focus more on the relationship between Johnny and Y/N as well as the dynamic between Doyoung and Y/N.

Mark watched the screen as his online payment went through. He had just booked his tickets for his trip to London. This time he planned to stay 2 weeks.

He had learned his lesson. That one time a year or two ago he stayed there for a month, and it was a total disaster. He came back with his head all messed up, panicking about life in general.

Then both Taeyong and Y/N convinced him to do some online therapy thing and things got better. He was in a better head space now. He was no longer a nervous wreck, overthinking his life and his future. But he kept his trips short. The London weather just didn't agree with him, and he didn't really enjoy the vibe there.

His phone beeped. He picked it up to see who had texted.

"Hey." it was Y/N. He missed his best friend terribly. But he wasn't sure if he was ready to talk.

"Hi." he replied after 2 minutes of staring at the message.

"You going for the party?"

"Yeah. With Kun and Lucas."

"I'm going too."

"With Doyoung?" he smiled to himself. "I heard he's going."

"Mark Lee! You never change do you?" he could imagine her looking exasperated. He giggled to himself.

Silence. He put his phone back down.

It dinged again a minute later. It was her.

"I should have used the safe word when you did what you did. Instead i just continued and got resentful. And made you leave after that."

"I should have been gentle.... I'm sorry Y/N."

"Maybe we need to talk about no go areas. Johnny thinks three of us should have dinner next week and talk. We're all new to this you know."

"I'm going to London next week. For two weeks."

"Can I go too? I really want to meet that weird uncle of yours who believes in aliens."

They ended up talking on the phone, catching up about life the past 2 weeks. Neither of them mentioned the incident again. The discomfort was still a little too fresh in their minds. But they were glad they were talking again.

The party was in full swing when Y/N arrived at half past 11. Yuta had indeed booked the entire VIP section and just about everyone was there. A small group of people had formed around Doyoung, fussing over him and his crutches and he was enjoying every bit of attention he was given. She rolled her eyes.

She wasnt sure if she was ready to face him yet. Their relationship had been terse since that incident where she punched him in the face during a heated argument. in the middle of an operation. in fact when Doyoung got into an accident during the next operation she was a little relieved he would be out for a while to recover. Now he was a little more mobile, it sure looked like he would be back sooner rather than later.

But having to deal with Taeyoung was worse. At least Doyoung recognised she was the best person to get advice on technology matters, and respected her recommendations. So maybe Doyoung being back would be a good thing. She decided to walk over. Doyoung had spotted her, and there was no escape now anyway.

"DDDDDDD!!!!!!" she shrieked excitedly hoping she was at least a little convincing.

"Oh my! Y/N! You are looking good! Must be the glow of love?" Doyoung winked as they hugged.

Stupid Taeyong. He couldn't ever stop talking about Johnny to everyone.

"I see Taeyong's told you."

"Yes, of course, he really really approves." Doyoung whispered. "I just hope you're behaving?"

Y/N sighed. The legacy of her and Mark was always going to be there. No escape. She wished they'd get over it for once. It only happened the first 6 months of her joining the unit. They had already declared each other as best friends a year ago. But everyone still insisted they had a thing for each other.

Some other person faked shrieked at Doyoung and she left as soon as she could, taking a seat at the bar to people watch, ordering a drink. She scanned the room, cursing silently as she saw Ten approaching.

She wasn't in the mood to talk about work now. He wasn't pleased with the first draft of her report, and wanted to make changes she didn't approve of. The guy had something stuck up his ass. It always had to be done his way, but it just wasn't always the best way to go about things.

"Hi my dear!" Ten gave her a kiss on both her cheeks. "Looking good! Heard from Taeyong you have a boyfriend now."

She was going to kill Taeyong.

"You look hot, Ten. I love your shirt! Are the girls throwing themselves at you again?" she grinned.

Ten grimaced. "I seriously don't want to talk about it."

"You're so handsome, I don't blame them you know." she pinched his cheek. He laughed.

"About the report you emailed me." he started.

"I saw your email. But i don't wanna talk about work tonight, Ten. Can we just have fun?" she pouted.

"Fine. I'll call you on Monday. Anyway i just came over to say hi and tell you how good you're looking. I've to go back to the guys. I've been tasked to keep an eye on Jaehyun tonight. He's being a little heavy with the drinking."

"I'm sorry, is this seat taken?" they turned to look. Mark.

"Hello stranger." Y/N grinned. Mark looked adoringly at her.

"I promise I won't tell anyone." said Ten, slipping away. "Your boyfriend won't ever find out!"

"What's wrong with him?" mark asked.

"He's been tasked with babysitting Jae."

"Oh man. Dude must be in a totally angsty mood now."

"Yeah this party isn't helping, you know. It's like Yuta rubbing in his face, 'I got a promotion, Jaehyun! I got a promotion! Yay!!!'"

"And you're drinking?" he tasted her gin and tonic. "You can't even handle the alcoholic content of Kombucha."

"Mark Lee! I swear to god! I was not tipsy on Kombucha that time. You need to stop telling that story to everyone. I can hold my liquor!" Y/N faked strangled him as he giggled.

Their eyes met. And the laughing stopped.

"I missed you." he said.

"You were the one who refused to talk to me. For two fucking weeks, Mark Lee! Two weeks!" she chided.

"You didn't talk to me either."

"I wanted to give you space."

"Thanks. I needed time to think."

"Are you done thinking?"

"Yeah.

"What's the conclusion."

"I agree with you guys that we need to discuss no-go areas. We can do that when I'm back."

"Ok. As long as your mind is not fucked up like that time... "

"It was just one time, Y/N! Just one time!"

"I'm just teasing you baby. Im glad therapy has helped you feel more grounded." She smiled. "I'm proud of your progress you know."

"I miss you calling me baby." he grabbed her hand.

"Mark, people are watching. I bet Kun's watching us now." she scanned the room, catching Kun's eye at the other side of the bar where he was with Lucas and Doyoung. Kun, realising he had been caught watching, looked away after shaking his head.

"Idiot." she cursed. "Maybe we should put on a show to irritate him."

Mark giggled.

"I can't believe Lucas and Doyoung are hanging out." Y/N nudged Mark, whose eyes grew huge upon realising that they were indeed siting together.

"Lucas fucking hates him, yo!"

"Well Doyoung doesn't like Lucas much either. Which makes this funny."

"Half the people here don't like the other half. They're all pretending."

"So are you pretending to like me too Mark Lee?"

"What do you think, Y/N?"

"You love me." she grinned.

"Well you love me too." he winked then stiffened. This conversation was getting odd. Y/N looked away.

They spent the evening in a comfortable silence, watching the party get rowdier and rowdier as more people joined. Some people started to bring out the magical stuff and it was downhill from there.

Y/N knew she was done for the night when she needed the rest room, only to enter it and find Yuta with his lady bent over the sink, him screwing her. She froze, they stopped to look at her, eyes dilated from whatever drug they had taken.

"Er. Hi guys!" she chirped awkwardly.

"Y/N!!!" Yuta exclaimed excitedly as Madam giggled. "Hi Y/N!"

"Bye!" she grinned.

she turned around stomping off. She needed to pee. Badly. There was only one person who could help her.

"Taeyong!" She yelled as she stomped towards him. He was talking to Mark and Taeil. All three of them looked at her.

"Hmm. Someone looks crossed." Taeyong teased. She wasn't in the mood for teasing.

"I need to pee urgently, but your two best friends are in there screwing. You're the only person who can sort this out, Tae! Please, put your tyrant nature to good use?"

Mark laughed hysterically as Taeil shook his head and smiled.

"Your wish is my command, Miss Y/N" Taeyong laughed before strding to the female restroom to scare them out.

"And you thought your unit was dysfunctional." Taeil said to Y/N who burst out laughing.

Taeyong came back after completing his task, and Y/N raced to the washroom, glad to finally be able to pee. She washed her hands, and was touching up her lipstick when she heard Mark's voice.

"Er. Y/N?" He stood at the door awkwardly.

"Mark, what the heck?"

"I think we should leave. A fight broke out."

"what happened?"

"I think Jaehyun challenged Yuta to a fist fight."

Y/N sighed. Maybe Taeil was right about his unit. And yes, it was time to call it a night. But she was hungry.

"Supper?" she asked Mark. His eyes lit up as he nodded his head.

[sadaveniren]

🎄31 Days of Recs - @comebackassholes 🎄

Crave

“Hello, I’m Louis Tomlinson, it’s nice to meet you.” There’s a little bit of shakiness to his voice, but Louis is still proud he didn’t lose his cool right then and there.

The other man grins, his dimple poking out in the most beautiful way, stretching his own hand out to shake Louis’. It’s warm and inviting, just like Louis remembers the rest of his body being. Louis swallows hard.

“I’m Harry Styles. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Tomlinson.” And God. That voice. That deep, deep voice. Louis has to close his eyes for a second before his dick gets hard right in the middle of the conference room. The way Harry says Louis’ name, sort of teasing, like he knows exactly what he’s doing makes Louis want to put him over his lap and give him a good spanking for behaving that way.

*

All eyes are on Louis Tomlinson to bring new talent to save Hanover Records from the mess the previous executive left behind. His newest artist, Harry Styles, is charismatic and everything Louis needs to revive the label. It’s up to Louis and his team to make Harry the star he was born to be. When Harry and Louis come face to face, it isn’t the first time they’ve met, and their worlds are about to be turned upside down.

Until I Found You

Harry Styles is the popstar of the century, or so the media proclaims. He’s linked to every omega he’s seen with, donned as an alpha lothario who isn’t ready to settle down any time soon. His team works hard to publicise him as an alpha who can’t keep his knot in his pants, but not everything is as it seems.

Louis Tomlinson, an aspiring musician working as a porn star and camboy, is waiting for his big break. When he meets Harry Styles he can’t stand the alpha that only uses his power and fame to bed as many omegas as possible. He runs into him at a party and hopes to never see him again only to find that Harry’s assistant is dating Louis’ best friend. To make matters worse, Harry’s about to embark on a world tour and is in need of a guitarist at the last minute, an opportunity Zayn uses to put in a good word for Louis.

What happens when the opportunity that Louis has been waiting for finally comes, but at the price of having to share the stage with one Harry Styles?

Dom Louis Series

Dear Mr. Louis, Hello. I’m Harry. I got your contact from a good friend of mine and was wondering if I can get your services. My 30th birthday is coming up and all I’ve ever wanted is to get spanked, maybe more? If you’re interested, please contact me. I’d love to hear from you. Sincerely, Harry Marcel reads over the words. He guesses there isn’t a much better way to ask for what he needs. He almost changes the name again but decides Harry is fine. It’s generic and nothing that can be traced to him. At least he doesn’t think so. Okay, he’s overthinking again so he clicks the send button before he can talk himself out of it. His heart races as soon as he does. He almost wants to take it back, figure out a way to undo it, but he takes a big gulp of his wine to calm down. It’s fine. This is fine. He can do this.

In This Moment

A mix-up at the hospital causes Louis to reevaluate his life and he works on trying to fix his biggest mistake: letting Harry Styles walk out of his life two years ago.

Wait for It

A How I Met Your Mother au with a better ending. Louis is ready to find the love of his life and when he meets Harry he thinks he's finally found them. Liam and Zayn have been together since college and are ready to take the next step in their relationship, except Zayn might be having doubts. And Niall is happy with no strings attached dating until a new employee at the bar they frequent walks into his life and makes him question his entire existence.

Strawberries & Cigarettes

Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

And I want More

Hearing Harry talk about knotting dildos makes Louis’ cock twitch. And fuck did it get hotter in here? Wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand he pulls Harry’s drawer to retrieve said dildo. It’s pink and glittery and honestly, Louis would expect nothing less from his best friend. A dazed smile forms on Harry’s face as soon as he wraps his fingers around it.

“Alright well, I should leave you to it. I’ll hang around on campus until your heat passes,” Louis informs Harry.

Harry’s eyes are open now, but they’re not looking at Louis, instead, they’re focused somewhere further south. He follows his gaze and immediately blushes when he notices what has caught his best friend’s attention. Louis’ erection is tenting in his sweatpants, a wet spot of precome darkening the fabric of his pants.

“Oh fuck.” It’s all making more sense now. All the heat he’s been feeling, the sweat. Louis is going through heat too.

a/b/o series

It takes Louis' early heat for Harry and Louis to figure things out.

Falling All in You

Louis wins a contest to meet Harry Styles even though he doesn't consider himself a fan. What he doesn't expect is to win over the popstar's heart.

Feeling Hazy (in the ballroom of my mind)

The doors to the ballroom open and violin music fills Harry’s ears, his skin prickling as he tightens his hold on Liam’s arm. All eyes fall on him as he makes his grand entrance next to Lord Payne, Earl of Wolverhampton. According to the media, they’re the couple of the century, but little do they know they’re not really dating. Harry tugs on his collar, the tightness around his neck almost too much. He’ll never get used to being Prince of Cheshire. Not only are wearing his royal garments a pain in the arse, he also hates all of the attention it garners.

There’s only one person’s attention Harry really wants.

[suekre]

So ive followed you a VERY long time (like from the deviantart days lmao) and i only just realised that you were talking about ocd in that post. Just wanted to let you know that i have ocd as well and god it is exhausting and i know exactly how you feel! I finally start therapy for it in 2 weeks. Pls know that i love your art and you very much and appreciate everything you create and share with us. All the best!! X

Hey you, I know you! Thank you for coming to my inbox and sharing this with me, I appreciate that so much. :) I am SUPER happy for you that you are about to get the help you need, that is awesome. I wish I could have had it at the time!

(And oh boy, the good old deviantart days, haha! Always happy to have my longtime followers around! :D)

OCD is exhausting indeed. People who aren’t affected can’t imagine what a nightmare it is. I, personally, am more prone to intrusive thoughts than actual obsessive-compulsive behavior. When people hear „OCD“, they usually think of obsessive hand washing or „leaving out every black tile while walking through a kitchen“ or so, while it can manifest in other ways. I didn’t know back then. I just thought I was going completely crazy at the time. I think I mentioned my disorder at times but I never actually openly talked about my own experiences (where I come from, mental disorders are a big NO NO, because it’s all in your head, just pull yourself together, other people are ACTUALLY suffering, it’s just dumb thoughts, you just need to think positive, y’know).

I kinda feel like doing it now. Just to get it out, and also to occupy my brain and hands and hey, maybe someone else can pick this up and find themselves in my own experiences. I sure know how relieved I was when I found out I wasn’t alone with my what I thought was a ‚Very Weird, Unique and Niche Problem‘.  

I gotta admit first - I’m doing much better nowadays. Even my worst days, as horrible as they may feel at the time, do in no way compare to the hell I went through in the second half of 2015. I have come a long way since my last (and so far worst... omg, oof, I hope there won’t be another) episode of intrusive thoughts. But, oh boy, was it intense.  It was the absolute worst time of my life, ever. I’m not writing this to scare anyone. Anyone who is familiar with this, will know how bad it is and anyone who can’t relate at all won’t feel affected anyway and will maybe even think something along the lines of „What the fuck?!“. I get it. It DOES sound crazy.

I have always been an overthinker. I always needed more validation and reassurance than other people around me and for the longest time I had no idea why that was. It was usually subtle - always kinda there but never strong enough to actually affect my life in a negative way. I just felt off at times, and not always super good. But I was generally ok, I could always manage.

Until that one episode that changed my life forever. I know that sounds dramatic but, even though I am in a good place nowadays, it sure DID change my life. I was 31, I lived together with my then-boyfriend and I still remember the exact date. Friday, July 24th, 2015. I remember the exact moment when my entire mind collapsed. It’s so weird, it literally happened from one second to the other. I am not making this up to sound more dramatic, it was a matter of seconds.

I was on my way home after work and I felt… restless and stressed. It felt good to get off work (it was my first full time job and... it didn’t go well, to put it nicely) but I was no longer really looking forward to my week off, and our trip to our favorite Open Air the following week. I picked up some dinner on my way, I came home, and I saw my boyfriend in the middle of the living room, he was making some preparations for our upcoming trip. When I saw him, tall and handsome and smiling at me, I smiled back but inside I felt like crying. My smile was fake. Kissing him felt weird, and also fake. And all of a sudden, there it was. The life changing thought:

„I don’t love him anymore.“

A simple thought. I had weird thoughts before, like anyone does, but they never had any greater impact on me. This time, though, that one thought knocked me off my feet. Not literally, I had turned into a pillar of salt somehow. This was the Perfect Man Of My Dreams (at least that was what I thought back then). The man I wanted to spend my life with, the man who made me happy every day! How could that even be, how could I even think something like that?

I felt even more restless. I didn’t tell him, of course. When he asked how my day was, I put on my fake smile again and said it was okay. We ate our dinner (although I had instantly lost any appetite), and I kept looking at him and the thoughts... just kept coming back.

You don’t love him anymore. What if you don’t love him anymore?

On repeat. It was awful. I just couldn’t shake them off.

It’s the stress, I tried to tell myself. You’re overworked. It’ll be good, you just need some rest.

But I couldn’t relax. My heart was racing, my blood was pumping. I didn’t know what was going on. I begged him to leave his work undone and take me out for an after work drink and he agreed. All the time, the thoughts wouldn’t leave my mind. I didn’t want to think them, but they were merciless, they just kept coming back. I felt so helpless.

A few drinks later, I had calmed down a bit, at least so much that I could stand to look at my BFs face again without feeling guilty. There you go, I said to myself, not quite convinced, you’ll be good. It’s already wearing off. When we crawled into bed later, I was tired and relaxed (and tipsy) enough to sleep and convinced that this was just a little glitch, that things would be just fine in the morning.

When I woke up, I felt exhausted. My heart was racing... and the thoughts came back IMMEDIATELY.

You don’t love him anymore. You gotta leave him.

What. The. HELL!? Why are these thoughts still a thing? Why are they still there? Why do they keep coming back?

I kept trying to push them away but the more I tried, the more intense they became. As if they tried to spite me. I started losing focus on everything else around me, the world slowly started to blur. It was just Me And My Thoughts from here. I tried my best to hide my state, and I think I managed for a while, but I felt like a robot any time I talked to someone. When people would pick up on my confusion, I usually brushed their concerns off. It’s nothing, I’m good.

I mean... how do you even tell someone that you just. can’t. stop. thinking. about whether you still love your boyfriend or not? According to the world, that is something you “just feel and know” after all. Except that I didn’t. I had no clue. I couldn’t feel anything. But, according to the world, that was perfectly normal, too. “Honeymoon phase is over at some point, babe. That’s everyday life, you grow comfy, it’s no longer a flash of feelings every day, you know that. You guys have been together for a while after all, what did you expect?!” ... what I felt didn’t feel like comfy everyday life either, though. Comfy everday life shouldn’t come with high key anxiety, sleepless nights and a loss of appetite at any lived second. If that was comfy everyday life, I sure didn’t want it.

So, what do you do when you have no clue about something? Right! Google! Go and ask the world! “How do you know that you still love your partner?”, “Is the love gone?” ... I spent hours, DAYS doing that, but no answer I found was remotely statisfying (or maybe it was for a minute, but the reassurance never lasted long) and I felt that those articles didn’t actually understand what I was asking in first place. I would spend every day like that. Permanently asking myself the same questions, analyzing myself, testing if the Big Feels for the man had decided to come back... nah, not really. Maybe NOW? If I just look at him close enough?! ... maybe if I squint a little?! Fuck, still nothing! Niente! Nada! I am a horrible person, aaah!

(Our open air trip was an emotional disaster by the way, I felt horrible all the time, and the permanent rain didn’t help. -3/10, do not recommend).

If I had known at the time that I wouldn’t spend just a few days but (more or less) six months with this shit... oof. I was already exhausted after those few days.

Over the course of the next weeks I stopped eating almost entirely. I just couldn’t. This permanent tight anxiety knot in my stomach made me want to throw up at the mere thought of food. At my worst point I weighed 138 lbs (63 kg), at 6 ft 1 (1,85 m). I often joked about how I had almost reached runway model standard. I was sick, I was weak, I was scared, but I just couldn’t eat and the bits I DID force myself to eat were burned almost right away by my crippling anxiety. (I still have clothes from that time, and I sometimes beat myself up for no longer fitting into them before I remember that I should NEVER fit into them EVER again.)

Instead I smoked a pack a day. I hardly got any sleep and when I did, it wasn’t relaxing. Always in Fight and Flight mode. My body was at alert level any minute, any day. I’m still asking myself how it could be that I never actually... collapsed. I was always tired, exhausted and malnourished... I dunno, you tell me.

The thoughts never really disappeared. They kept coming back in all variations. You don’t love him anymore. You have to leave him. You may not want to, but you have to. You don’t love him. I had very few “good moments” in between but in those good moments, my mind was usually frantically looking for explanations and reasons behind all this. For ways to improve my relationship, to feel better about my boyfriend. I came up with the WEIRDEST shit. Almost every day I found something new that bothered me. One day he was a little boring. That’s it! We gotta go out more, do more stuff, that’ll change everything. ... aaah, no. Guess not. The next day, it was something else. The day after THAT, it was something entirely different again.

I was suddenly prone to making some HELLA weird impulsive decisions, too. „I gotta break off contact to that one person RIGHT now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!“, “I gotta talk to my mom about THAT particular incident in my childhood right now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”, “I gotta make a trip to the mall JUST NOW, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”… the decisions made total sense to me the second I made them, for about ten minutes at most, but the initial rush of relief started to fade again quickly and I frantically started looking for new solutions. Google was my best friend. I couldn’t go a day without googling exessively. Overthinking, pacing, googling. Any day, any hour awake. Over weeks. A few months even. My mind was constantly reeling. It was a bottomless pit.  

I cannot put into words how exhausting that was. Sometimes the idea of throwing myself out of the next window seemed SO tempting, not because I wanted to die, but because I wanted the thoughts to stop tormenting me.

(I was out of regular therapy at the time, btw. I thought about calling my therapist about it but never did it. I felt isolated, I literally thought I had to do this all by myself.)

At some point, a few months into it, I somehow transferred to zombie mode. The thoughts became a little less intense over time. They were never gone but not quite as nagging anymore. But any time I wasn’t in alert mode, I felt just hollow instead. Sucked dry of any joy, of any emotion, of any sign of life. I just... functioned. Still tried to hide it. I dunno how well I did with that. Probably not at all well. I kept it all to myself, just because it felt that ridiculous. Tried to find excuses. “I’m just tired.”, “You know, there’s a lot going on in my head right now, but I’ll be good.” ... truth is that I don’t remember a whole lot of that time, it’s all blurry. There are just a few significant moments.

Such as that one evening, after work, when I left the building, made a few steps and stood five (or ten? fifteen??? who knows?! not me.) minutes on the spot, motionless, because I could no longer remember my way home.

I got fired from that job, by the way. I’m sure it was mostly due to low performance, I get it, but I can’t blame my poor state alone - they were also assholes.

Anyway.

I had, of course, never stopped the googling and one day, after hours of browsing any niche I hoped I hadn’t browsed yet, I somehow found a blog written by a young woman like me. The description tackled almost all of my thought patterns and I was blown. away. She asked herself the very same questions, with the very same twists, and... she even had a name for it.

ROCD. Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

I cried for what felt like hours. Out of relief. There was a person in this world who knew exactly what I was going through. And she even had tips how to overcome it. It wasn’t the first time I had heard about OCD, but as it had never affected me in any way before (I, too, associated it with compulsive hand washing and tile jumping), I wouldn’t have thought of it. After doing my own intense research on the subject, a huge part of me and my life finally started making sense to me. Not much was known about ROCD at the time, but it kinda didn’t matter anyway. What mattered was the OCD part. The subject of the thoughts is entirely interchangable. It’s the chain of thoughts itself that has to be broken. Don’t focus on the relationship. Break the chain instead.

The internet also recommended exposure therapy but as therapy wasn’t an option at the time (weird German laws... regular health insurance covers only a limited amount of therapy lessons within a certain span of time and I had used mine up and there was no way I could pay myself), I decided to try it myself, the key points being:

* No more googling, no more reassurance. Learn to live with the uncertainty, learn to live with Not Knowing.

* Let the thoughts happen. Watch them pass by. They’re just thoughts, they can’t harm you. Don’t fight them, just recognize them and let them stay, they’ll get less scary over time.

* Focus on other things, as hard as it is. Try to occupy your mind and your body. Any minute you spend doing something else but brooding is a win.

It all sounded so very abstract at the time, but I was determined to give it a try. Oh gosh, was it hard. After months of emotional torment and getting used to unhealthy ways of coping, it was SO DAMN FUCKING HARD to NOT google. To NOT think. It felt like torment all over again. How was I supposed to just let the thought sit with me!? It was scary, I didn’t want it! Just ONE little peek, only a second, come ON! I won’t do it again after that?!

Oh god, it was the worst, it really was. Trying to break the chain while I was so desperate to save my relationship was terrible. I honestly don’t remember HOW I made it... but I made it. I somehow... clawed and bit my way out of it. I went right through the pain and made it. It’s not actually a linear process but there comes this point (and I know a few people I met on online platforms who would back me up on this) when you know the worst is over. You just know it. Things weren’t exactly good by the time the thoughts were history but I had reign over my own head again, I could actually SEE the world again, and that was worth everything plus my body weight in gold.

I’ll stop right here because the following months weren’t about my OCD anymore, but about figuring out needs, figuring out myself and what I wanted from life and this particular relationship and it’s not quite relevant and another story. (I DID love my ex-BF but it turned out he wasn’t at all good for me, I had ignored all the red flags for too long, and it didn’t take long after this for us to go separate ways)

I hated this particular time in my life while it lasted but I have learned and taken so much from it. It has changed my life in so many ways. I learned that things are never set in stone, not for anyone. That there will always be uncertain times on our ways. That change is always scary. That it’s okay to be scared. That staying in crappy situations for the sake of it isn’t always the right thing to do. Sometimes, doing the right thing (aka leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you) can make you sad. Love does not equal compatibility.

Looking back, I am - in a very bizarre and twisted way - grateful for the experience. It was an incredibly important lesson for me that taught me to be kinder to myself, to look out for myself and to listen to my own needs. That I should put myself first at times. For the first time of my life, I really got in touch with myself and my own emotions. I learned to understand them, I learned where they come from. I learned to cut myself slack at times.

The list goes on and on, but you get my drift. I know myself inside and out at this point. That wasn’t always the case. Not until 2016.

It still comes back at times. Not with such full force, but it keeps creeping back in, pretty much any time I have to deal with uncertainty in my life. Bad news at work, not hearing from a friend for a while that I’m dying to hear from (inevitably thinking that they MUST be mad at me) or when I spot a few symptoms of sickness that I’m not familiar with (I practically never get sick). Not Knowing What Will Happen drives me CRAZY. I hate uncertainty, I need my life to be stable and calm to fully function.

Now, in COVID times, it’s mostly the fear of suffering from an incurable disease. AGAIN. I’m familiar with that, too. I’m not even scared of catching the virus, I just fell right back into overthinking any symptom I have, even if it’s just a short pain in the neck or whatever (you know, things that one usually brushes off). When my life was busier, I was MUCH better at handling those thoughts. Most of the time, they didn’t even come up in first place. Sitting inside and avoiding contact 99,9% of all times, and having little to no actual distraction („reading/watching movies“ doesn’t help me personally, it does’t occupy my mind enough, I usually just stare right through the pages/screen), however, leaves FAR too much time for the thoughts to unfold, once they come up.

This subtle but lingering concern for my health puts my body into a permanent state of anxiety once more. Fight and Flight mode. The pace of my heartbeat is always slightly, but perpetually, increased. It isn’t always outright panic attacks, it’s this constant state of having to be… alert. Something MIGHT happen, y’know. Be prepared. Relaxing and doing nice things becomes almost impossible. Instead, I get tired and exhausted. Depressed, even. It sucks the joy right out of me. I feel like living under a glass dome. I see what’s happening around me but I am unable to connect, emotionally. People keep living their lives and I can watch them, but I can’t be a part of it. It’s a deeply crushing feeling. I manage to somehow function but I don’t really feel alive. My abandonment issues and fear of „getting left behind“ kicked in again, too. I want to catch up and take part but can’t so I stress myself over THAT, too. This only adds to the exhaustion and makes me feel even more isolated.  

Hello, vicious circle, my old friend.

I didn’t even realize that I had such huge potential to fall right back into it. It all started… I dunno, by mid/end of January?? It’s a bit blurry this time. It is directly connected to Germany’s recent lockdown, though. A massive case of Not Knowing How Things Will Turn Out. I failed to take better care of myself in the past few weeks. And now I’m here. AGAIN. Ugh.

But well, as I said, it’s not as bad and, as I said, I have at least learned some important things over the years. In this particular case of intrusive thoughts, the first rule is: NEVER GOOGLE SYMPTOMS. And never google shit like „chances to survive (whatever illness think you have at the time)“, either. The mind longs for reassurance but googling symptoms is BAD, as we all know by now. It’s not even reassuring when you do it. Because you’ll inevitably end up diving through the vast internet for HOURS, picking up an entry that some person named Kevin made on a cancer forum way back in 2004, saying that his uncle died the next day after finding out he has cancer and that is, OF COURSE, what will happen to YOU, too. There is no other way. YOU WILL DIE.

Excuse the text walls. I took an opportunity to ramble about my own experience, for the first time ever since it happened (not including the few short talks I had with the few people I met on internet forums).

To anyone who made it this far: Thank you so much for reading. It sure felt good to write this down for once, even if it’s just a short summary (yes, really, I mean, we’re talking six-ish months here), and the descriptions fall woefully short. If anyone affected by the same happens to read this -  I am so, SO sorry you are suffering so much. You are NOT alone and you are NOT weird. Talk to someone. Open up. To your doctor, or you therapist, if you have one. To a person you trust. It is the worst but there are ways, there is help. I wish I had known at the time it started for me.

You know now. :)

P.S.: DON’T FUCKING GOOGLE:

[jalapeno-princess]

Broken-Hearted Girl

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 8.7K

Summary: After a petty argument escalates into Mark saying some things he didn’t mean, the two of you end up breaking up on your third anniversary. For the rest of the week, you find solace in your family and you learn how to live with a broken heart.

A/N: I don’t even remember how I stumbled upon this song but after listening to and falling in love with one of their other songs “Friend’s Don’t” by Maddie and Tae, I already knew I was going to like this one also. I recommend you listen to it while reading this imagine, the song really does tug on your heartstrings. I’ve been extremely busy for the last few weeks and so I wanted to put a hold on writing (even if just for a few days) but I’ve actually been staying up till the wee hours of the morning (I feel as if I might have insomnia but who knows) and I actually had a really bad mental breakdown earlier, so I needed something to help calm me down and take my mind off of my negative thoughts. Writing is my favorite escape from how cruel this world can be sometimes (although, my writing is literal shit haha) (and i really don’t care for how I ended this and I’m actually kind of unimpressed with this story) but I hope you guys enjoy it! (I have never been in a relationship before so I haven’t experienced the pain of a heartbreak (and I’m sure knowing my sensitive ass I would actually die)

Hey, mama, how do you get a red-wine stain Out of your favorite dress? Black mascara off a pillow case Cure a one-too-many headache Mama, can I come and maybe stay a few days? This weekend or next And hey, how do you get a red-wine stain Out of your favorite dress?

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright? I wanna kick myself for fallin' so hard Mama, can you die from a broken heart?

This was not how tonight was supposed to end. Usually, anniversaries were meant to be extremely romantic. They were meant to celebrate the amount of time you’ve been in a relationship with your significant other and to relish in the love that you had for one another; yet here you were, storming out of your boyfriend—well, now ex-boyfriend’s truck towards your apartment with tears streaming down your face. 

You were too focused on getting inside and just collapsing to the ground that you couldn’t even remember how the night ended so terribly. Just a few hours ago, Mark picked you up with the intentions on surprising you for your third anniversary together. 

The two of you practically couldn’t even keep your eyes, let alone your hands off of each other to the point where Mark was just going to say fuck it and show you just how much he loved you and how happy he was to be able to call you the love of his life with his head between your thighs. However, things didn’t go as planned. 

In fact, you had a hard time processing that he told you he planned on spending the rest of his life with you just a few moments before the argument broke out. As soon as you unlocked the door and stumbled inside, you immediately sank to your knees and let out the most heartbreaking cry you didn’t think you were capable of. Not once in your life did you ever cry as much as you were right now. 

Sure, you’ve lost a few loved ones, failed a couple of very important tests here and there and sometimes you and Mark would watch some of the saddest movies every now and then but nothing ever hurt you as much as Mark’s last words did. 

My life would’ve been so much easier if you weren’t in it. 

Each word felt like a stab in your gut. At the time, you knew you said some things that you didn’t mean and that you were sure had a negative effect on him; but nothing you said was even half as bad as hearing him practically say he regrets your entire relationship. 

It made you overthink the last three years of being with him. Mark was in more or less words, the perfect boyfriend. He was quite the gentleman; he always held doors open for you, pushed you on the inside whenever you’d be walking on sidewalks, pulled out chairs for you, always asked how your day was going and if you were eating all your meals on time. 

He knew your coffee order by heart, he’d buy you cute little things he would see that he thought you would like and he even made you a few playlists of songs that reminded him of you. He took care of you as if you were the most delicate little dandelion; but that didn’t mean he wasn’t rough or dominant behind closed doors. 

Mark knew you like the back of his hand. Three years would do that to someone; he knew each and every mole, freckle, beauty and birthmark on your body. He was well aware of the scar on your knee that was shaped like Texas and how you got it from playing football with your cousins. If perfect was a person, it would be him. 

Everyone who knew of him wanted to be his friend. Mark was a social butterfly; he had a tendency to be friendly and kind to whoever he encountered. His golden heart, extremely kind and generous personality was got you to fall in love with him; on top of his indescribable good looks and charismatic charm. After knowing each other for over seven years, you’ve grown accustomed to having Mark in your life. 

Even before the two of you started dating, he was there for almost every milestone in your life. He was there when you got accepted in to the college of your dreams, he was there when you got an internship with a company you’ve been wanting for a long time, he was there for your first time getting drunk at the young age of 16 and he was the one to rub your back as you threw up the following morning. 

With that being said, he was also there during some of the darkest times in your life. When your grandmother passed away from cancer, it felt as if your entire world fell apart. She was your best friend and you were completely devastated as soon as your mom called you and told you the news of her passing. Mark was at baseball practice around the time that you were heading to the hospital, but once he heard of what happened, he wasted no time in making his way to where you were and pulled you in to his chest the moment his eyes landed on your frail figure. 

It took months of grieving, crying over her absence and Mark constantly whispering sweet words of comfort for you to come to terms with her death and you were entirely grateful that you had someone so patient and understanding as Mark was to be there for you during such a traumatic time. What was going to happen now when he was the reason why you were so distraught? 

Losing your grandmother was extremely painful and even after all these years, you weren’t completely over her death. However, knowing that man you loved more than life itself no longer wanted anything to do with you was a different kind of pain. Although there were a few times in your relationship that you and Mark would disagree, not once did a fight escalate this badly before. 

Your relationship was one that everyone around you seemed to envy. Everyone and their mothers knew just how much Mark loved you and it was obvious by your words and actions that you felt the exact same way. His mom always used to tell you that your love was one for the ages; you both cared for one another in ways that only people who were genuinely in love could experience. For two people who’ve been in a relationship for as long as you and Mark have, you were still in the so called “honeymoon stage” where you constantly had to be around each other even if all you did was laze around all day doing nearly nothing. 

Just being in his presence always made you feel so at ease; so serene. Home wasn’t necessarily a place you lived in or just a roof above your head. Home wasn’t just a place that gave you shelter; home was where you felt the safest, the most comfortable and home was where you were happiest. For the last seven years, Mark Tuan was your home and now, you were homeless. You always felt so protected and loved whenever you were around him and you hated every moment spent away from him. 

The more time you spent crying on the floor, the more you came to the realization that tonight’s events actually happened and Mark was no longer your person. Although neither of you actually called it quits, you knew by the tone of his voice and in his facial expression that it was over. Even if he were to come back to you within the week begging you for forgiveness, you don’t think you could ever forget how his words screwed you up mentally and physically. 

When you decided that you had cried all the tears you had in your body and that you were wasting your time crying over someone who couldn’t give less of a shit about you, you got up from your spot right in front of the door and slowly sauntered off in to the kitchen. Anyone who knew you were aware of the fact that you hated alcohol. 

You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you were sure it’s because you spent your teenage years getting high and wasted to the point where it was no longer fun to do now that it was legal. The bottle of red wine that was in the back of your cupboard was a gift from Mark’s friend Jackson for your birthday a couple of months ago and you didn’t want to seem rude by not accepting it since you didn’t care for red wine or just wine in general. 

But now, you were extremely grateful for his choice in gifts and you made it your responsibility to finish the entire bottle in one sitting before you went to sleep. That’s if you could even find it in yourself to even go to bed. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Mark and what he was doing right now; if he regretted what he said, if he knew you were currently suffering and beating yourself up about the argument. 

How could the two of you go from being seconds away to ripping each other’s clothes off, to you drinking imported red wine straight from the bottle to take your mind off of your broken heart? As you continued to drink the wine, it was in that moment of sitting on your kitchen floor and banging your head on your refrigerator that you noticed your front door had a dent in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were to go up to it and see that you broke it by how hard you slammed it out of anger, but at this point you didn’t even care. 

Your mind, your heart and your body were so numb that nothing else seemed to matter and if anything, the door represented your mental state and your relationship. Seeing as how you were the definition of a light weight, it didn’t take you long to completely knock out on the hard tile. Although that last sentence continued to replay over and over; taunting you as a painful reminder that you were living your actual nightmare, it was the fact that he gave up on you so easily as if you meant nothing to him that really killed you. 

Was he planning to breakup with you and used this argument to actually go along with it? How long ago did he decide he no longer wanted to be with you? Everything seemed to be going so good for the two of you; so when did he decide he had enough of your relationship? You weren’t surprised when you woke up the next morning with an extremely painful migraine and a crook in your neck. 

This is why you despised any type of alcohol and never understood why Mark and his friends constantly went out to bars whenever they hung out. However, you felt as if this was going to be your way to ease the pain and knowing that alone made you want to cry again. After taking a few moments to process what you were going to do for the rest of the day, you got up to take some pain killers and to look at your current state to see how much of a mess you probably were. 

Almost half an hour later, you found the strength to get up and walked to your bathroom. Your head was throbbing and your bones ached from sleeping on the floor, but nothing hurt even half as much as your heart did. As soon as you saw your reflection, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. You looked horrible. Your hair looked like a bird’s nest; tangled and all over the place. You had mascara stained on your cheeks, your eyes were puffy and if you weren’t so numb, you would’ve screamed at the wine stain in the dress you were wearing; your favorite dress to be exact. 

Mark bought you that dress a couple of months ago because he knew it would look good on you and he was right. The first time you wore it, it didn’t stay on for too long. It was your favorite dress for many reasons; not only did your boyfriend buy it for you, but as someone who was extremely insecure with her body, no matter how many times Mark would make it known how much he loved your body and thought you were the most beautiful and sexiest woman to exist, the dress made you feel beautiful. 

You wore this dress with so much confident but now, it was stained with a deep maroon color right around the chest area and it was a brief representation of the hell you were going through. Like the fool that you were, the fool who was madly in love with the person you wished you could hate right now, you checked your phone to see if he tried to get in touch with you at all and you felt your stomach sink when you saw nothing. 

No texts, no calls, no voicemails, no “I’m sorry, I made a mistake”, no “I love you” or “I miss you.” Couples went through breakups all the time so why did you feel pathetic for something you weren’t at fault for? The rest of the week felt like you were dreaming the same nightmare over and over again. You could still see the anger and rage in his eyes when he told you that you were annoying and that he wasted his night with you when he could’ve gone out with his friends. You were sure there was a chance he was with them right now and you didn’t care at all. 

If he was so quick to let you go without a care in the world, you weren’t going to allow yourself to cry over him no matter how much you wanted to. But you were only human. Three years may not be considered “a long relationship” and you were still kind of young to get married and settle down but you knew Mark was the man you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with. The two of you talked about your futures on multiple occasions and every time Mark would talk about his plans, you were in each one. 

On the fifth day, you came to terms with the idea that it was really over. You tried lying to yourself by thinking that he was going to come back and that he just needed some time to calm down, but you gave up on that idea entirely knowing how Mark could be. Two things about the older boy that you could do without was his pride and how stubborn he could be. 

He tried his best not to show you those sides of him because he didn’t want you thinking negatively of him or being afraid of him; however there were occasions where he would get in to it with one of his friends because he always had to have the last word. With that being said, you knew Mark wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to initiate reconciling with you even if that’s what he wanted because that’s just who he was. 

A week away from work was what you needed to really try and get yourself together again. It wasn’t until your mom called asking how you were doing and if you and Mark wanted to stop by for dinner that you realized you weren’t okay nor were you ready to go out and put on a fake smile while pretending nothing was wrong. When your mom called you, you let her go to voicemail multiple times. 

Although your mom was your best friend and you probably needed someone to be there to comfort you during your heartbreak, you weren’t ready for pity or sympathy. The only person you needed was Jack Daniels. You hated what you had become in less than a weak and you hated that you allowed Mark to have this effect on you. It was only natural for you to be responding to your breakup in this way; you were only human. But you were now a pathetic alcoholic who was wasting her time crying over a man who was no longer in her life. 

Three shots of vodka, two beers and one shot of tequila later and you absentmindedly left a lengthy voicemail to your mom, telling her exactly what happened all the while begging her to let you stay at your parent’s house for a couple of days. Maybe even weeks. Deep down, you knew you needed to be around people no matter how much you enjoyed being alone because your mind always found away to think about Mark. 

You told her how Mark yanked out your heart and stepped on it repeatedly. You told her about getting drunk every single day for the last week, how much you hated him for what he was putting you through and how you hated that you were letting such a stupid boy control your emotions. You also asked her if your dad could come over on one of his days off to take a look at your door. She didn’t take long to respond back to you nor were you surprised when you heard her knocking on your door while she quickly pulled you in to her embrace once you opened it. 

“Oh yeah sweetheart, you really broke your poor door. Come here baby, mama’s got you.” 

She helped you bring your bags to the car and the two of you stayed in silence the entire ride to your parent’s house. You had a feeling she had a few questions she wanted to ask you and that there was a couple of things she wanted to say but you were glad that the only noise in her car was the sound of the air conditioner. You weren’t ready for any kind of human interaction or a conversation you knew would drive you even more crazy. 

All you wanted was for your mom to rock you back and forth like how she used to when you were younger and tell you that everything was going to be okay even if you lost all hope on it being so. When she pulled up to the garage, she told you to stay put so that she could help you get out of your car and you felt like such a child. Out of all your siblings, you were the closest one to your mom and even if you were an adult living on your own with a full time job and everything, you were always going to be her little girl. 

Seeing your child cry was always painful for a mother, but because the reason behind your sadness was something out of her control, she felt like she couldn’t do anything but console you and get you whatever you needed to try and make you feel better. Once you made it inside of the house, she led you to your old bedroom and let you get settled in so that she could prepare you something to eat. You didn’t have the heart to tell her you weren’t all that hungry; you haven’t had much of an appetite in the last week and you were sure she noticed your sudden weight loss. 

A part of you wanted to ask her to forget about it, especially because being in your old room brought back so many memories of Mark and how he would sneak in on school nights and how the two of you would stay up talking about anything your hearts desired. Being alone wasn’t something you’d think you’d ever get used to, especially because Mark was like your shadow. Wherever you went, Mark followed and unlike most people who would probably complain about his clinginess, you enjoyed it profusely. 

Knowing that Mark always craved your presence and needed to be around you to maintain his sanity made your heart flutter. This has been the longest you had to be without him and every day felt like an entire month. It’s as if time went by frustratingly slow because the universe was aware of your heartbreak and wanted to make you suffer for whatever reason you were unsure of. 

Taking a look around your old bedroom, you could feel your chest grow heavy when you saw the few pictures you had of you and Mark from when you were growing up and tears were soon building up at your eyes. The two of you looked so happy together; you were just a couple of kids who dreamt about so many wonderful things that life had to offer. Little did either of you know that one day, you would fall in love with one another before you could even comprehend the meaning behind that silly four letter word. 

You silently cursed to yourself for getting all worked up again; you came to your parent’s house as a way to heal on your own and to surround yourself with people who love you and care about your well-being. You just needed to have some kind of support system or else you’d drive yourself crazy back at your apartment thinking about what you could’ve done to have prevented the breakup from happening. The gentle knock on your door took you by surprise and you almost ended up dropping the frame. 

She released a long sigh before she walked over toward you and took the picture from out of your hands. The last thing your mom wanted to do was to make you even more upset by saying something to trigger you or cause you to overthink. But she couldn’t handle seeing you so broken; so defeated especially because you were an actual ray of sunshine. Your smile alone could light up an entire room and your personality was so bright and bubbly, people enjoyed your company because of your enthusiasm. 

As much as your mom liked Mark to the point where she would secretly plan out your future wedding with his mom whenever they’d go out to lunch together, she wanted to find him and make him regret what he did to her baby girl. She was shocked to say the least when she got your voicemail and at first, she couldn’t even understand what you were saying because your speech was so slurred and she couldn’t hear a word you were saying through your tears. Mark made it known to his surroundings that you were his entire world and all he cared about was making sure you were well taken cared of and that you were happy, healthy and got everything you deserved. You were so agitated just by seeing his photo and you wanted to scream. 

He was probably already over the entire thing and although it killed you to think like this, you couldn’t help but feel as if he was already looking for someone new. Why else would he have left you so easily? There must’ve been someone on the side but who were you kidding? That man planned an entire night out for you; to celebrate your life together. Your mind came up with all these different reasons for the breakup so you could get some closure but you weren’t stupid. You knew Mark loved you, you just couldn’t find a reason why he would tell you he regrets your relationship and wishes he never met you. 

You despised yourself for trusting Mark with your entire being; for allowing him to see each and every part of you. The good, the bad, the ugly. You hated that he was the only man you’ve ever loved with your entire physical, mental and spiritual being. You were upset with yourself for falling so hard for him and giving him the control to do such a thing to your heart. The feeling of being in your mom’s arms again after moving out almost two years ago was extremely comforting and very calming. 

She ran her fingers through your hair and continued to stay silent and waited until you stopped crying completely before telling you exactly what was on her mind. After your sobs slowly died down, she tapped on your forehead to get your attention. 

“Sweetheart, have I ever told you the story of when your father left me back when we were in college?” 

You shook your head in disagreement but widened your eyes in shock at her revelation. From what you were told, your parents were college sweethearts. Your dad fell in love with her when one of their mutual friends asked him to pick her up from work once and he was extremely grateful that their car was in the shop at that time or else he would have never met his soulmate. 

They’ve been together for over twenty years and not once have you heard this story, but now you were heavily interested. You always loved hearing stories about your parents relationship; it gave you high hopes for your own relationship and since you were going through a breakup right now, you could only hope the story would lift up your spirits. 

“We were together for only three months at the time and it was the first relationship I had where I genuinely cared for him. He was so kind, so flirtatious and used the cheesiest pickup lines to make me laugh. I knew he was going to be someone special in my life. Unfortunately, at the time your dad was the only one in his group of friends that was in a relationship. They told him that being in a relationship was “lame” and that he was still so young to be wasting his time being tied down to one girl. He tried to defend and fight for our relationship, but his friends continued to pester him over it, so he broke up with me. I was devastated, I cried for hours on end and couldn’t eat anything. But he showed up only three days later with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a bucket of fried chicken. He told me he loved me and refused to be without me. It was quire romantic if you ask me.” 

You giggled at the idea of your dad asking your mom to take him back with some Popeyes. You were upset to hear that your dad’s friends coerced him in to breaking up with her. However, you were happy to hear that it didn’t take too long for him to realize your mom was it for him.

“He’ll be back y/n. I know he will. That boy—he loves you. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, I can tell in his actions and with the way he looks at you that he’s head over heels in love with you. His mom also mentioned it a couple times; he’s—what is that word kids your age use these days? Whipped for you? She said he has stars in his eyes whenever you come up in conversation. It’s serious when a boy talks about you to his momma. One day when the two of you are married with a family of your own, you’ll look back on this little bump in the road and laugh—“

“Please don’t say that. You didn’t see the way he looked at me when he told me all of those hurtful things. It didn’t even feel like he was my boyfriend, it was as if I was looking at a stranger. It makes me wonder, did he ever really love me if he had no problem leaving me?”

“I’m serious y/n. I don’t know what things were said that night or how things ended up the way they did, but when it’s real, when it’s love, you just know. He probably looks just as bad and if not worse than you do. I know it hurts. Breakups are rough, especially because it’s obvious you and Mark were made for one another. But what have I always told you? If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, then it’s yours forever and if it doesn’t, well baby, it just simply wasn’t meant to be. He was probably just in the heat of the moment and said some things he probably didn’t mean. I’m sure he’s regretting this entire thing. Mark’s a smart boy; if he knows what’s best for him, he’ll be yours again in no time. Until then, get out of this funk y/n. There’s so many wonderful things in the world to do and to be grateful for. Do you really want to look back on your twenties and regret wasting your time crying over a boy when you could be doing so many different activities and go on so many adventures?”

You released a frustrated sigh and shook your head again. She was right. You were tired of crying and drinking so much. There was only so much alcohol your body could handle and it wasn’t worth all the hangovers. 

“Maybe we should tell your dad what happened so he can mess around with him a little bit and teach him a lesson.”

The idea and the way your mom said it made you let out a genuine laugh. Your parents were always so protective over you and it was probably because you were so kind-hearted that people tended to take advantage of how polite you could be. However, even if she meant it as a joke, you were nervous at what your dad would do if he found out about what Mark said to you and how the breakup was slowly killing you. You were a daddy’s girl and your dad never failed to do anything to make you smile; even if it meant scaring your ex-boyfriend which you knew you didn’t want him doing. 

Your mom stayed with you for a few hours until it was timed for her to make dinner and you ended up falling asleep because of how mentally exhausted you were. No matter how much your mom loved it whenever you stayed over, she didn’t want you to get used to running away from your problems and hiding when things got too difficult. She wanted you to learn to live without him on your own. Your mom knew that you were going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but one day you would heal from this entire situation and realize that your breakup was a learning experience. 

Plus, you had to return back to work sooner or later or you would lose your job completely. A cloud of sadness came once your dad pulled up to your apartment complex and they offered to walk you to your door but you weren’t sure if you’d allow them to leave if they did. They both pulled you in for hugs as they said their goodbyes and you actually cried as you watched them drive away. Why did life have to be so complicated? You were so unhappy to the point where you thought you would actually die from a broken heart. 

The aspect of dying from a broken heart was extremely devastating; you’ve heard about it on multiple occasions. It was normal for people to be so sad, so distraught and have no energy or motivation to do anything. They wouldn’t eat, sleep and only spend most of their days crying out what was left of their hearts. You didn’t think going through a breakup would cause this much damage to you and your well-being; but contrary to what your mom told you, Mark wasn’t just any boy. He was the owner of your heart and you understood that he could torment you like this because you allowed him to. 

You stopped by the mailbox to see if you got anything before heading up to your apartment. When your parents were driving you back to your place, you decided that you would actually get up and do something today. Whether it was tidying up your place from how messy it had become from your one too many drunken stupors, or going to the cleaners to get that wine stain out of your dress. As you began to approach your unit, you noticed there was something sitting right in front of your door. 

The closer you got, you realized that it wasn’t just something, it was someone. Your heart felt as if it was about to jump out of your chest when you realized exactly who the person was slumped up against the wall. It was exactly a week since your fight and you weren’t sure if it was what your mom had said about your love and how beautiful it was, or because you were miserable without him but you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and beg him to come back to you. 

You expected to be angry if you were to see him again because of all the trauma you suffered through; yet seeing him tugged on your heartstrings and it was as if you pushed the entirety of the last week to the back of your mind. When Mark heard footsteps coming towards him and he looked up to see who it was, he had to hold himself back from running towards you. Your mom was right, just like she normally was. 

This week was one of the worst weeks of his entire life. He was suffering without you. He never hated himself more than he did when he said all those things and he hated himself even more for not running after you as soon as those spiteful words fell from his mouth. You were the best thing that has ever happened to him, and if things were to end up differently that night, he would’ve been able to show you exactly what you meant to him in more ways than one. 

He wanted to call you, to text you and to tell you how stupid he was and how he didn’t mean a single word that he said to you but words were never his forte. Nor did he want to give up his pride even if it meant preventing this last week from ever happening. It was all his fault, or so he kept telling himself and he couldn’t go one more day without you in his life. It was too much for his heart to withstand. 

He was going to do everything in his power to get you to forgive him, even if it meant having to stay away from you for a little while longer for you to completely heal from this experience. As soon as he drove away from your apartment that night, he knew he fucked up and accidentally punched a hole in his wall out of anger. He was so selfish; so insensitive and didn’t think that his harsh words would have any negative effect on you. 

After hearing your little jabs at him, he wanted to hit you where it hurt the most but if he knew then what he knew now, he would’ve kept his mouth shut and just dropped you home so that you both could calm down and not say everything you both said to one another. You let out a deep breath and tried to prepare your heart to hear why he was there and to be ready to fight if the situation called for it. 

“Hey.” 

You looked up at him and you could feel tears brimming at your eyelids. He looked so tired and you knew for a fact that he must’ve cried with how his eyes practically mirrored the puffiness of yours. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent and his face looked smaller than it already was. It made you cringe; Mark was never one to portray himself as someone weak or someone who had feelings and emoted whenever something was up with him. If he had a problem, he’d deal with it on his own and this was no different. 

Good. He deserved to have suffered as much as you did. 

“Hi. How long have you been here for?” He shrugged before scratching the back of his head; something he normally did when he felt like he was in the wrong or whenever he was embarrassed and you took it as the former. 

“Um—since Wednesday I think.” 

Your eyes widened in shock at his answer. Wednesday? So that means he was sitting outside of your apartment for the last three days? 

“Wait, you’ve been here for three days? Are you crazy? Mark, you could’ve gotten sick! It’s cold out here! And what about food? Have you even been eating? You look so malnourished, why would you—“

“You and I both know why. I fucked up. Big time. It took me a while to think about it at this perspective because I was just so mad and I wanted to blame you for the way things ended that night but I came to the conclusion that this was my fault. I’m the one who fucked up something so amazing, so beautiful and so perfect because I was a fucking asshole y/n and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

In order to prevent wandering eyes of your neighbors, you opened the door and motioned for him to walk inside so that the two of you could have your privacy. 

“Shit y/n, what happened to your door? You have to practically force it open—“

“You don’t want to know. My dad is supposed to come over this weekend to try and fix it. I think the hinges must’ve came out or something. Can I get you something to eat? Drink?” 

He shook his head and you could see in your peripheral vision that he was hesitatingly reaching out for your hand, probably in attempts to bring you to the couch so he could continue the conversation from where the two of you began from but he just walked over to the living room and took a seat. You wanted to hear everything he had to say and you were going to make it a point to let him know what this breakup did to you. 

His focus was on the multiple empty bottles of alcohol sitting on your coffee table and because he was well aware of how much you hated alcohol, it was apparent that you must’ve had it really rough if you felt the need to turn to alcohol for solace. When he felt like he was ready to talk, he turned around to face you and released an exasperated sigh. 

“I’m sorry it took so long to come here—oh, these are for you. I actually had to go back to the store because the first two bouquets actually died probably because they weren’t being watered and I bought your favorite cookies—but I got hungry so there’s only three left.” 

He handed you the beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and you giggled at the sight of only three cookies in a big container but it made you smile nonetheless. 

How romantic. 

You politely thanked him and placed both of the gifts down on the table before speaking up. 

“You should’ve called me, I wouldn’t allow you to have waited out here for me. Are you crazy Mark? What if something happened to you—“

“Then so be it. I’d probably deserve it. Fuck, you don’t understand how much of a mess I was without you and how much I’ve been suffering because the image of your pained face would not leave my mind once this entire weekend. I had a feeling you weren’t home when you weren’t answering the door but then again, you could’ve looked through the peephole and decided you wanted nothing to do with me and I wouldn’t have blamed you. The old lady next door was kind enough to offer me some food here and there but I’m sure she probably thought I was a thief or something when she first saw me. I should’ve called but you and I both know why I didn’t. I kinda wanted to give you your space because I’m sure what I said probably got under your skin. I ruined our special day and I’m sorry if I broke your heart—with the way you’re looking at me I’m sure I hurt you pretty badly huh.” 

You looked up at him with a melancholic look in your eyes; that had to be the understatement of the year. If you didn’t have your family around to help you take your mind off of your failed relationship, you were sure you would have ended up in the hospital sooner or later. 

“You broke me Mark. You made me feel like I was worthless. You made me think there was someone else or that you fell out of love with me and I genuinely wanted to die. Pathetic right? I just—I didn’t know how to function without you and waking up every morning felt like a chore. At some points I felt like I couldn’t even breathe. I’ve heard heartbreaks caused by breakups were an unfathomable pain that are impossible to bounce back from and some people even die from a broken heart I just never would’ve thought it would happen to me. Especially because we were so happy; so in love and I would have never thought one stupid, meaningless argument could cause us to separate. You made it seem like leaving me was so easy and hearing that you wished that we never dated in the first place is what truly fucked me over. I became a fucking alcoholic because of you—I blamed the entire breakup on myself even if I didn’t say anything that I knew would inflict any sort of pain to you because the idea of hurting you hurts me. It’s sad to know you don’t feel that way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong y/n. I regretted everything that I said as soon as I said them but the damage was already done. Please believe me when I say this, I didn’t mean a fucking word. That was just the anger and the irritation talking for me. My life before you always felt so empty, and once you came in to it, you made everything so much better. You filled my life with color and made my heart soar by just the mere thought of you. I could never regret you or our relationship; you’re all I could ever want or need in this hell forsaken world. You know the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you—“

“BUT YOU DID MARK.” 

You didn’t mean to yell, but it was all the built up emotions you’ve been holding in that finally released itself and you knew you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he shivered at your tone. Not once in the many years of knowing you did Mark ever see you so mad. You were always such a shy and introverted person; he didn’t think you were capable of such an intonation. He hated that he was the reason for your hostility and he was afraid that it was too late. It may have only been a week, but what you went through was enough to change your warm-hearted personality in to a cold and aggressive one. 

“Nothing will ever change the fact that you gave up on us—on me. If you knew there was a chance that your words would affect me the way that they did, then you wouldn’t have said anything at all; but you said it all without hesitation like you did mean it. I was coming to accept our breakup for what it was. Sure I was hoping you would come back; hell this is the closest I ever felt to God because I found myself praying every single day for him to show me a sign. For him to heal me and make it known that I would be okay. I’d be lying if I said I’m not the least bit content that you’re here but—I really don’t know what to make of that.” 

To your surprise, he made his way toward you and reached for your hands. As intimidated he was by how you were acting towards him, he knew he had to grow some balls and man up, or he would lose you forever and the tiny box that was in his pocket would no longer have any use. 

“I don’t know what to say or do that would explain how sorry I am and how much I wish I could go back in time and prevent any of this from happening. I don’t know how to stop you from hurting, and to get you to forgive me—I‘ll do anything to fix this y/n. Please—tell me what to do. I can’t—I can’t lose you. Tell me you don’t love me, and then I’ll—I’ll—fuck, there’s no way I can let you go. Please baby—you asked God for a sign and I came here tonight to try and fix my mistakes. That has to mean something right?” 

Hearing him sound so desperate, so willing to do whatever you wanted him to in order to bring your relationship back to what it was made you feel so many emotions. As much as you wanted him to give you some time to think, you knew you’d take him back. It was going to take some time to forgive him, and to get his words out of your mind completely, but Mark was everything you ever wanted for the rest of your life. 

Why were you going to continue suffering on your own and staying away from him when all you wanted was to have him back in your life? You cupped his cheek softly with your palm and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. Feeling him smile against your lips sent a fire through your veins; Mark’s kisses always had quite the effect on you. His lips were so pink and so pretty and you loved every single moment that they were pressed against yours. 

“You can start by paying for my dry cleaning. I got a huge wine stain on the dress I was wearing because I got drunk.” He giggled in to your neck before placing a chaste kiss there. 

“Done. You silly girl. God, I missed you so much baby. I also think I have something that could win me some brownie points but I hope tonight ends the way last week should have.” 

The question of what he was referring to was at the tip of your tongue, but before you could emit anything, he was now kneeling on the ground right in front of you and pulled out a red box. Your heart began to race on a you put two and two together; he was going to propose to you. 

“I know, this is probably not how you wanted this to happen and I promise you I had different ways in mind on doing this—but after losing you, I realized that it didn’t matter how, where or when I would ask you to spend the rest of your life with me; all that matters is that I did. I was actually planning on proposing you at the beach once we were finished eating, but I chickened out like the coward that I am. And I guess I was irritated with myself and took it out on you that night and I know I said it so many times, but I will continue apologizing until I make up for all the pain I’ve put you through. I’m sorry y/n. I don’t deserve you—I don’t deserve being able to do this right now but this last week without you made me realize that I can’t live if I have to do it without you.” 

He grazed your wrist with his thumb and you were sure he did that to calm down his nerves, but it was so cute. You loved seeing him so flustered and so nervous and you loved knowing that you were the reason behind his now shy demeanor. 

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember. Every time I would drop you back home once we hung out back in high school, I felt this emptiness in my chest. Then I realized how much I loved hearing you laugh knowing that I was the reason behind it. I loved spending time with you and being around you. I loved the feeling I got whenever we were together. You and I can literally do nothing but I’m my happiest when I’m with you and that’s when I realized you were more than just a friend to me. These last few years with you have made me the happiest man alive. You mean everything to me baby—I wish I would’ve told you this sooner so we wouldn’t have wasted time apart but I’ll make up for it the rest of my life—if you let me of course. I’ll take good care of you my love. I’ll continue to love you and give you the world on a silver platter. Y/n, will you do me the greatest honor and marry me?” 

You were sure if someone else were in your shoes, they probably would’ve said no right off the bat. Heartbreak really did change a person. It made your whole aspect on life change for the worse and you knew you weren’t the same person you were a week ago. But you’ve dreamt about this situation on many accounts. There were times where you’d sleep over Mark’s place and you’d stay up looking at him in admiration and thinking about what your future together would look like. 

Sure, you would have preferred this surprise before all the unfortunate events that happened, but you were excited and speechless nonetheless. You sank to your knees and sat down on his lap; bringing your hands up to his face and pulling his lips up to yours. You couldn’t help the snicker that fell from the back of your throat when you felt a tear fall from his eyes on to your cheek. His hands were tight on your waist as he deepened the kiss, licking and sucking on your lips before all but gently shoving his tongue in between your teeth. When you felt his excitement pressing against your core, you pulled away and ignored the choked out whine that fell from his lips as you placed your forehead against his. 

“Yes. I would love to marry you Mark. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Thank you for coming back to me love.” 

The way he was looking up at you pulled on your heartstrings; you couldn’t wait to tell your mom of the news. You knew she would probably hit you with “I told you so” but she would also be extremely happy for you. He abruptly stood up and took you with him, wrapping your thighs around his waist. You knew exactly what his plans were as he made his way to your room and you were excited to say the least at what he was going to do with you.

Once the two of you entered the bedroom, he didn’t waste anytime throwing you on to the bed and attacking your face with kisses as he ran his hands along your body; needing to touch you everywhere. Right as he began dragging his fingers along your clothed heat, he gripped at your chin and made sure you were making direct eye contact with him. 

“You know, since your door is already broken, I don’t see any problem in breaking your bed also—ow! What? You’re going to be my wife one day soon, so it’s only natural for me to want to fuck the living shit out of you in celebration of our engagement—I’m actually starting to reconsider this whole marriage thing. Give me back that ring, I’m gonna go sell it and buy me the PS5–“

“You wouldn’t dare Tuan, I’ll end you—“

“Just shut up and let me love you damnit.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came after his little complaint. You still had yet to process that Mark was currently on top of you, ready to make love to you and to show you just how much he missed you. He playfully poked your cheek to break you out of your trance and squeezed your butt as a force of habit. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I’m just really happy, that’s all.”

 He gave you his signature cheeky grin and left a long, sloppy kiss on your lips. 

“Good. That makes the two of us, and that’s the only emotion you’re going to feel now that you’re stuck with me. Now, let’s make up for lost time shall we?”

Can you ask daddy if he's got time To come and look at my front door? It got slammed last night And now it don't close right And just promise that you won't tell him everything And keep that pistol in the drawer Mama, please don't say I'm gonna laugh about this someday You didn't see the way he drove away

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright? I wanna kick myself for fallin' so hard Mama, can you die from a broken heart? Oh, a broken heart

Can your knees give out from prayin' so hard? (Prayin' so hard) Can you go blind from cryin' in the dark? (In the dark) Was it ever really real If he don't feel like I feel?

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright?

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright? I wanna kick myself for fallin' so hard Mama, can you die from a broken heart? A broken heart

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Dun dun dun! I started writing it like the day after I finished the last one and I’m already working on the next one. That’s how excited I am here. As always, a huge thank you to @edward-or-ford for being my beta!

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies

Chapter Six: The Reveal

Can you feel it now? I’ve weighed it all out. Here and now, my world turns inside out. - Cartel, Only You

There are instances in our lives when we see or hear something so utterly shocking that our brains short-circuit and stop working entirely beyond the basic functions required to keep our bodies alive. Some things simply cause the brain to react in a 404-thought-process-not-found sort of way. That’s just how it is with some things, and it can’t really be avoided.

When confronted with something our brains cannot handle, we have a tendency to think, say, and do, unusual things. Someone might laugh at the shock of seeing a corpse, but that isn’t because they actually find the situation amusing. They are simply so horrified that their brain doesn’t know how to react, and so the person laughs as a coping mechanism.

In that strange, incredible, unimaginable moment, Mabel recalled holding her grandfather’s hand as he murmured nonsensical things on his deathbed. He kept saying that he was going on a trip, but he wasn’t packed or ready, that he couldn’t leave yet. Mabel was only eleven at the time and didn’t really grasp the significance, but she eventually came to understand that her grandfather, though not really there mentally, recognized he was dying and that his brain was trying to help him cope with the impossible.

Mabel was not dying, however, although she thought that perhaps she was already dead (she felt rather weightless, and the scenario she found herself in seemed entirely out of the question for her, so what explanation could there be other than there being an afterlife she didn’t even necessarily believe in? Did people who were in love with their siblings even get a happily ever after(life)? Mabel didn’t know, and she didn’t have the presence of mind to overthink it), so when Dipper pulled his sleeve back over his wrist and pulled it against his stomach, looking away with adorably flushed cheeks, it occurred to Mabel that he probably shouldn’t have been moving in slow motion, but he was. It was like she was falling, and she was in that split second right before you hit the ground where everything moves so slowly it almost seems like time is frozen completely.

She’d been right. He’d been planning on showing her his soulmark. And she was… no, no. That’s not possible. It had never occurred to Mabel that Dipper could be her soulmate and she had therefore never done any research, but how could it be possible that she and Dipper shared a soulmark? She’d never heard of such a thing. As far as she knew, the general consensus on incest was… unfavorable, to put it mildly. Sure, technically speaking, all soulmate couples were legal provided both parties were of age, but she’d simply never considered the possibility that incestuous soulmates would have ever even come up.

The only logical conclusion was, of course, that she had misinterpreted what she saw, and that while Dipper did have a soulmark (and the skin surrounding it wasn’t red and irritated the way it usually was with newly formed soulmarks), it most certainly was not a match with hers, although it was similar enough to be mistaken for hers upon first glance.

No. Of course it wouldn’t have matched Mabel’s soulmark. She was the freak, after all. Dipper was normal, and he had a normal soulmark just like everyone else, and he probably knew who his soulmate was, and he was gonna start dating her and move in with her in one of the government-funded Young Adult Soulmate apartments, and they’d get married right out of high school or maybe even right away, and they’d have their first kid of many right after college, and Mabel would be left trying her hardest to be kind to the soulmate-turned-wife-turned-mother-of-Dipper’s-children and the lucky bitch would get to touch Dipper in a way that Mabel never would and he’d look at her in a way he’d never look at Mabel and Mabel would babysit their children while Dipper and his wife/soulmate (who was decidedly not Mabel) went on dates and came home all lovey-dovey and they’d have sex like all the time because soulmates always had sex all the time and oh god if his soulmate was seventeen already then Dipper would’ve… he already would’ve… oh god oh god oh god no she didn’t wanna picture that, anything but that, no-

There was the sound of a quiet, gasping breath of someone who was very clearly crying, but it wasn’t until Dipper’s head whipped around to look at Mabel with wide, shocked eyes that she realized her cheeks were wet and the sound had come from her own throat.

Dipper blinked at her, surprised, and all Mabel could think of was if the makeup was waterproof or not, thanking of how furious Candy would be if she knew Mabel had ruined her friend’s Sephora eyeliner and mascara by crying, before remembering that yes, it was indeed waterproof, much her relief.

“Uh…” Dipper’s voice was awkward and squeaky and ugh stop being so fucking adorable you fucking asshole. “Why… why are you crying?”

Mabel took another watery breath. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

Dipper stared at her dubiously. “No, I don’t think you are, so please tell me why you’re upset.”

Mabel whimpered and shook her head, wisps of hair flying around her face as she did so.

He ran a hand over his face (which bore a remarkable resemblance to a tomato that had been genetically engineered to make it as red as possible) and tugged on the hair hanging over his forehead.

“Look, I know… I know that I’m not what you wanted, or what you pictured in a soulmate,” Mabel’s eyes shot up from her hands in her lap to his face. What? “But, I mean, would, y’know… would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but Mabel couldn’t speak at all. “I mean, I was pretty surprised, too, when I found out, but I was also really, really happy, because there’s no one I’d rather have as my soulmate than you, and I get that the whole twincest thing is pretty gross to most people so it’s fair if you feel that way, too, of course, but even so, I… I…”

He trailed off, taking a deep breath before speaking again, his voice stronger and surer. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I feel like it’s just been building up for years and after we hit seventeen I couldn’t keep holding it in, and I had to tell you. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry. Mabel, I…” he looked at her, something intense and crazed and alive swirling in his eyes, and his voice returned to a whisper again. “Fucking hell, Mabes, I burn for you so goddamn badly that sometimes I think it’s going to kill me.” There was a severity to his voice despite the whisper. “I’ll give you the fucking world, I swear, I’ll give you anything you want. So I’m gonna ask again: would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?”

The tears hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t even slowed. He opened his mouth to speak again (it seemed that once Dipper started with the whole revelations thing, he couldn’t really stop), but Mabel cut him off.

“How long?”

He blinked, surprised that she’d finally said something. “Huh?”

“How long have you known?”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off, looking away awkwardly.

“I’ve had my mark for as long as I can remember, Dipper,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “You must’ve had yours for just as long. How long have you known?”

He buried a hand in his hair, blushing to his roots again. “Remember that time when we were Skyping and mom left you alone for a minute and you showed me your soulmark? Yeah....”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was… that was three years ago!” Mabel’s voice was still quiet, but then she exploded. “Do you… do you have any idea, any fucking clue, the slightest goddamn inkling, how much agony I’ve been in? Do you have any idea at all?”

Astonished by his sister’s rage, Dipper shrunk back. “Uhh… no?”

Mabel was fuming. How dare he keep something so important from her? “You… you… you bastard! I have been in love with you for years! Years of guilt and pain and… and misery just because I loved somebody I felt like I shouldn’t, but whoops, guess it turns out it wasn’t even my fucking fault, was it, it’s just that my absolute dickhead of a brother or a soulmate or whatever the fuck you are now, he just decided not to tell me, or he forgot, or some other bullshit!” Her voice was shaking, and she was cursing way more than she normally did. Dipper, for his part, looked properly guilt-stricken. “Anything else, asshat? Anything else you’d like to share with the class?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

She was still crying, but they were angry -furious, really- tears. His face was frozen in shock, however. “You… you’re in love with me?”

Mabel blushed too, and forced herself to stay angry despite the adorably dopey, astonished, thrilled expression on his face. “So what? That’s not the point here,” she snapped.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, still in shock. “Really? Are you sure?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m sure, but again: that’s not the point here!”

He didn’t even seem to hear her, he just kept staring at her, an elated expression on his face. “You’re in love with me,” he said again, his dopey smile growing.

“Yes, I’m in love with you, get over it, Dipper!” She actually raised her voice at that point. He certainly wasn’t absorbing her words any other way. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Now then, is there anything else I need to know?”

He blinked, recognition returning to his eyes as if he’d been snapped back into reality. “Well, I guess there are some things you should probably know…”

“Well? She snapped after a few seconds.

“Well, uh… apparently, siblings being soulmates isn’t that uncommon, and usually siblings who are soulmates are actually twins, so it’s not like we’re super unusual or anything.”

“Great to know I’m not a freak of nature. Thanks so much for telling me as soon as I started feeling that way,” she said sarcastically.

“Err… sorry,” he mumbled. “There’s also, well… I mean… I’ve done a lot of research on why soulmates are who they are, so…”

“Uh huh. Go ahead, then,” she said with a wave of her hand, having done minimal research herself.

“Well, you see, it’s determined by…” he murmured the last part so quietly she couldn’t hear him.

“What’s that?”

He told a deep breath before attempting to speak again. “It’s determined by emotional compatibility as well as capability for physical attraction, and physical compatibility, which obviously means, um…” she raised her eyebrows at him. “Which obviously means… y’know. Sexual compatibility.” He coughed uncomfortably. “It’s also determined by who can help the other person have the healthiest kids possible. Even kids that are born from incestuous soulmates are usually healthier than unrelated non-soulmates.”

Sex. Sex with Dipper. Dipper on top of her, underneath her, inside her. Images from dreams and fantasies flashed in Mabel’s mind, but she pushed them away as firmly as she could. She was still pissed at the dickbag, after all.

Oh, but children with Dipper. Their children. Together. Fucking hell, she’d never truly let herself consider that long enough to want it, but once she thought about it, she wanted it so badly she thought she might start crying again.

No! Shoving those thoughts from her mind, too, Mabel scowled at him.

“Anything else?”

He sighed. “Well… our parents have known our whole lives.”

“What?”

He nodded. “Why d’you think they kept us apart, or fed us that allergy bullshit? We’re not allergic to each other, they just didn’t want us touching ‘cause we’re soulmates.”

“And I assume you’ve known that for years, too?”

He nodded again.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, staring out the window briefly. She needed to escape. She needed to escape him or she’d throttle him. Undoing her seatbelt with shaking hands as more tears threatened to fall, Mabel unlocked the car door and threw it open.

“Uhhh, what’re you doing?” Dipper questioned as she stood up, heels digging into the cold, wet grass.

“I can’t be around you right now,” she told him flatly before shutting the door behind her and walking off.

To her horror, she heard the driver’s side door open behind her, sneakers touch the ground, and the close of the car door.

“Mabel!” He called out, and she could tell he was jogging over to her. Dammit. Just as she was about to get to the edge of the clearing and escape into the woods, too. “Mabel, wait,” he’d reached her side. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” he told her, stepping in front of her to block her path.

“For one thing, you took off your coat earlier and you didn’t put it back on and it’s way too cold for you to be walking around in jeans and a shirt, no matter how…” he shuddered, his eyes raking over her. “No matter how incredibly attractive you may look.”

Squashing down her joy at the compliment, she kept eyes on her feet. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Tears caught on her eyelashes as she blinked. She felt so conflicted. She was so angry with him, but she wanted nothing more than to nestle herself into his arms. She wanted to scream at him, but she also wanted to whisper her adoration in his ear. She wanted to punch him, but she also wanted to kiss him. She was thrilled beyond all measure at the prospect of being his soulmate, but she was also terrified beyond belief. She’d never been so conflicted in her life.

“Mabel,” he said her name quietly, like a prayer. Like a curse. Like she was the answer to every question that had ever been asked in the history of the world. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I was scared of what our parents would do, but more than anything, I was so, so petrified you wouldn’t want me.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, tears still flowing freely as she kicked at the grass. “We’re soulmates. I have no choice but to want you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Yeah, I guess that’s true, huh? We want each other no matter what.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she snapped.

“I can’t help it. I love you, and I’m just… I’m so fucking happy you love me back.”

“Idiot,” she said again.

“Yup, that’s me. I’m an idiot,” he agreed, still very clearly grinning like he’d won the goddamn lottery. Raising her gaze to his to glare viciously at him, she found herself startled by how overwhelmingly gorgeous he was, and- no, no, still mad, remember?

Noticing she’d been crying again, she supposed, he took a step towards her, hand outstretched. “Mabel, I really am sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

She backed up faster than a Smart Car trying to get away from an eighteen wheeler. “N-no!” She stuttered out. “Don’t touch me!”

If he got any closer, she didn’t think she’d have been able to stop herself from whacking him.

He stopped, hurt clear in his eyes, and lowered his hand. “It’d make you feel better if I held you,” he told her softly.

“I don’t care,” she snapped again.

“I do, though. You’re angry and hurt and I caused it. Please let me fix it.”

“I can’t promise I won’t hit you if you come near me,” she warned.

“That’s okay. Hit me if it’ll help,” he took another step, this one slow, as if she were a wounded animal he’d found in the wild and was afraid he’d scare away.

All of a sudden, the fear that had been pushed out of her mind in place of her anger came rushing back. He’d never touched her before, and she was petrified.

He stepped closer to her, and time seemed to slow down again. When he finally reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, she felt as if the universe would collapse in on itself.

She couldn’t hold her sobs in, so she didn’t, and she couldn’t really seem to keep her fists from pounding against his chest, either. He was so warm, and he was being so goddamn sweet, and in that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being.

He wasn’t even fighting back. He was just letting her hit him. Not that it was particularly hard, of course; it probably didn’t hurt him in the slightest. She looked up at his stupid, idiotic face to tell off his stupid, idiotic ass again, just for good measure, and when she did, he reached up and brushed away her tears with his thumb.

It was the first time his skin had touched hers in as far back as either of them could recall.

And then, suddenly, she remembered something about soulmates who hadn’t, y’know… consummated things yet: skin-to-skin contact flipped what was essentially an aphrodisiac switch that had a tendency to make both parties lose a fair amount of self-control.

It was probably an evolutionary mechanism meant to encourage reproduction as quickly as possible. In all actuality, though, it was just a pain in the ass.

Mabel subconsciously pressed her body against Dipper’s. The arm that was still around her held her tighter, his hand traveling into her hair.

“When’d you get so tall?” She wondered as she looked up at him. Her burning anger had given way to a different kind of burning altogether.

He shrugged. “Kinda happened… gradually, I guess?”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, playing with the fabric of his coat and staring at her fingers.

“Mabel?” His voice was soft, and she looked back up at him questioningly. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Images flashed through her mind with lightning speed again. “Yes,” she whispered.

With a slowness that was downright agonizing, Dipper placed his hand on Mabel’s cheek (to hold himself steady as much as her, but don’t tell either of them that), leaned down, and gently, ever so gently, pressed his lips to hers.

[mindlabyrinthx]

November 4, 2021

He looks so thin. I was watching him last night after work and he just looks so frail and skinny; weak and helpless. I know he’s depressed and he’s riddled with tension. I know that it’s my entire fault. But when he says things like “You think it’s bad now. It’s going to be a hell of a lot worse if you tell me you’re leaving me” and I ask him what’s the point in telling me these things, and he can’t give me a straight forward answer; what does it mean? I know what it means. But if I tell him what it means, I am just assuming. I am overthinking or down right ignorant. This also means I’m right. He tells me these things so I feel guilty. He may very well not know he does it for that reason, but he does. Feel an overwhelming amount of guilt for being responsible for what he’s going through. As if I already don’t have enough of it on my own. But the more he says these things the more he tries to make me feel even guiltier than I already do, the less I feel for him at all. Am I terrible person for that? I look at him and I just I feel nothing. The more I am in the same space as him, the more I want to run. Run so fucking hard and fast away from him and away from this life.

Why is it so hard to describe why I feel controlled? Why I feel manipulated? Why can’t I give examples? Every time I say the examples out loud, he makes me feel like I’m the crazy one.

I haven’t been able to look at myself in the mirror for some time. I brush my hair, brush my teeth, put on my deodorant but I just skim around my face and I never look at the person staring back at me and it’s because I don’t recognize her. Being with him has made me lose any sense of self. He found a dollar general bag and asked when I went and what I got. I told him I went on my break and got whatever the receipt said and his response was “Wow you go to a lot of places without me knowing don’t you?” At first, my initial instinct was to apologize. I’m sorry; I should have told you I was going to the store while I was at work. I apologized for my inconsiderateness. But a little tiny voice somewhere deep inside me whispered… this is wrong. He’s wrong. I do not have anything to be sorry for when I have done nothing wrong. And this is just one example of many that have happened and like I said at first I would always apologize and explain in great detail why I did whatever it was he thought I did without his permission or knowledge and overtime it just.. It pushed me to this. We were fighting and arguing all the time and even just a few days before the wedding. I chalked it up to stress and anxiety over the big day, but I was wrong. I knew something wasn’t right but I had faith that maybe things would change after we were married. But it didn’t get better. And the miscarriage on my wedding day… the trauma of bleeding very heavily all day long; putting on a fake show for 170 people for 6 fucking hours with a husband who said we’ll make another one. A husband who introduced me to someone in the grocery store, but when the man’s wife arrived he didn’t bother introducing me to her and after we parted, I asked him politely to try to remember to do that in the future and him raising his voice at me in the store and telling me “I can never do anything right for you can I!” Shaking his head and walking away from me. Me, apologizing and quietly explaining that I was just trying to help guide you to do a polite thing in public – as in helping you be a better person always. “Oh so I’m not a good person now?” No baby, you’re a good person. I’m sorry it’s my fault. Or when I liked a video of a famous tik-tok guy who is attractive, and he freaked out on me for it and looked down on me like I was some child who he’s so disappointed in. Making me feel inferior making me feel like I’m less than he is as a person. The longer I’m with him, the more I realize how quickly he is to anger when he’s losing control over me. I took my rings off once when we were fighting because I was fiddling with them as I was praying to God and forgot to put them back on. He noticed right away as I was sitting on the toilet with my hands folded and very sternly said “Why aren’t you wearing your rings” I explained why and he demanded so so loud “Put your FUCKING rings on!” I looked at him and inside of me was burning… I yelled back “I fucking will when I’m done!” I didn’t do anything wrong and he thinks he can stand there while I’m vulnerable on the toilet and demand me to put them back on, right now, as he said it. The loss of control that I saw all over his face, that I wasn’t wearing them for like 10 minutes, it was terrifying to see. I was terrified of what he may be capable of when he’s lost control over me. When we fight it’s a constant battle between me trying to express what’s wrong and him tactfully picking apart my feelings and making me feel like I shouldn’t feel them, that there’s no reason to feel them. I sound like a broken record. I told him I wanted to end this relationship. I told him why and I told him why at this time I wouldn’t believe the perfectly crafted response he’d be getting ready to share. All the perfectly crafted responses before, they hold no power over me anymore because they last so briefly and actions speak louder than words.