#a whole lot less intense than the Day 01
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Day 1 again (1/91 or 1/89)
I'm sorry for dropping out
Having very hard times and there is no one to help, I'm paying hell a lot for my medical insurance, but don't get appropriate psychiatric healthcare. I was rejected for admission for intensive trauma therapy because I have more emotional burden than flashbacks, despite multiple traumas and working on verge of burn out since years.
Who cares, whatever.
The whole summer and September are gone like a second.
I'll write here daily what I did for research/studies and gratitude diary because I've lost hope. I've set a schedule alarm for that.
Actually I did a lot of research since my last post, but it's hard to appreciate small things, since nothing is published yet.
In 91 days I'm going to do research full time (next year plan changed) and I'm worried a lot about it
89 days left till I'll leave this horror peripheric hospital which made me even more burnt out and depressed than I was -> even, when I have a much less work, I just can't enjoy anything anymore
-> I've started to prepare lesson material for thurday where i again give work group for second year medical students
-> did remarks on two texts for the new book of my Dutch teacher
Gratitude:
-> went to museum first time since i've moved and it was nice! also talked to staff there
-> set up sourdough bread
-> called with my significant other, was very glad to see him, he is sick and on vacation abroad now
01/10/2023
#studyblr#mental health in academia#museum#dutch#medical residency#struggle#the struggle is so damn real#gratitude
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Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge 2022 - Day 02
prompt #02: chocolate baking date goes wrong
fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Luke Randolph 1.6k words
tags: Modern AU, light, fluff, short, a little bit suggestive too quick summary: Narrator is making chocolate with Luke
“Let me see that list again?”
Luke looked around as he set down the paper bags he was carrying on the counter. “Oh, there. By the microwave.”
I grabbed the folded piece of paper before setting down my own bag. It was crumpled and a little smudged but otherwise still legible. I’d gone over the list a hundred times but I wanted to make sure.
Cocoa powder. Vanilla extract. Honey…
“Did we get everything?”
“Yup.” I took out the measuring cups and then heard the soft pop of a jar being opened. I whirled around. “Luke!”
He didn’t stop from scooping a spoonful of honey into his mouth. “Isn’t that why we bought three?”
Well. True. Yves’s instructions said we only needed probably around four or five tablespoons for a small bar. “Just one, okay?”
“Bowl?”
“Tablespoon!”
“What?” Luke genuinely shocked and then his face melted into a pout. “I thought you only needed a jar. There’s so much extra around.”
To be on the receiving end of Luke’s sad puppy-dog eyes was a test I always ended up failing. I had bought three extra large jars because I knew who I was baking with and I did not want to have to run out in the middle of the process. But I had to stand my ground. “After we’ve finished, you can have all the honey you want. But only after.”
That cheered him up. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I placed the paper in-between us. “Now, help me with the measurements.”
When I asked my housemates for original ideas about what to do for Valentines, the ideas had been, well… typically them. Going on a skiing date in Obsidian. Picnic in Japan under blooming sakura. Eating out at a fancy 5 star Michelin restaurant. Transporting truckload of Grandiflora roses from Jade because you could. The suggestions started from insane and went to physically (and financially) impossible.
When I’d asked them about original but realistic date ideas for Valentines when the person of your desires only seemed to like honey, I instantly regretted it.
Leon had looked at me with genuine confusion. “Just give him what he wants. If he likes that, then give him a honey-themed item. Wouldn’t that make him happy?”
“Dip yourself in honey.” Clavis had suggested with a straight face. “He’d love it.”
“Disgusting.” Yves wrinkled his nose.
“Dip yourself in honey and then ask him to eat you out.” Jin had continued.
“You can do it slowly.” Nokto had added. “Fingers first, and then –”
“All of you are incorrigible!” I had hissed, pelting them with my throw pillows.
“It’s genius!”
“You’re all just laying down your horribly imagined fantasies. Obviously this has to be a genuinely romantic, tender-hearted moment that he will be treasuring in his heart forever. Kinks aren’t going to cut it! And no, Leon, he already has those.”
“He collects them?”
I avoided looking at him. “I – uh, bought most of them for him.”
“Of course you baby him.” Clavis’s eyes had been bright with mischief and I glared at him. “But I don’t think Luke is going to mind – ”
I had screeched and was ready to pounce on him. No one was allowed to say names!
“Make something for him, then.”
“What?”
Yves waved a hand. “If you want something memorable, wouldn’t it make sense to give him something you made yourself?” Then he brightened. “Oh, you could bake something for him! Something with honey, maybe?”
And the rest, as they said, was history.
I’ve never made chocolate from scratch before and after Yves explained the entire process, I already felt tired. It was the constant stirring that put me off, when after you melted the cocoa butter and had to continue stirring, checking temperatures, stirring again and again as you add all the other ingredients to make the chocolate. I’d complained as much but Yves wouldn’t have it.
I may have acquired muscle tone in my arms from practicing tempering the chocolate but hey, if it got Luke smiling, I’d say it was worth it. Even if it might not be enough muscle for me really to be able to carry him like he usually did me. Yes, I’m a sap for him. Not going to deny that – I’m learning how to make honey flavored chocolate, aren’t I? I practiced tons; my housemates had incessantly teased me for it for days and complained about me hogging the kitchen.
“Do I add more?” Luke said behind me.
“Just a drop – nice. Perfect.”
Luke hummed and his arm brushed against my waist as he leaned in again to look.
But. I realize now that what I didn’t prepare for was the fact that Luke was there, practically attached to me by the hip, as we made chocolate.
It wasn’t really that I was not used to Luke’s presence but he was just so warm and comforting. And tall. Stood like he could lift a child to the sky and help them pluck the stars. People broke their necks looking up at him. I wasn’t so small but there was something about him standing so close that made me feel like he could envelop me and I’d just be gone. Lost in his fresh scent of forests and dew on grass. He was so much like a bear it was hard not to.
What little space the kitchen made sure we in each other’s reach. It had never been a problem before, even if my housemates and I kept bumping into each other when we lumbered during mornings or scrounged for late night snacks. It had never occurred to me until that time, standing so close to Luke, how tiny it really was; turn around and you went from one counter to the next. Three steps and you’d be from the kitchen sink to the refrigerator.
Luke could practically raise a hand and grab the mugs on the shelf without moving an inch. Which is what he’d been doing, really, whenever I asked him to pass me something or other. Feeling his chest almost to my back was not doing me any favors. I could feel the heat from him. If I leaned further, would he step away or step closer? Did I dare find out? Would it be so bad if –
“I’ve never had chocolate with honey before.”
“Really?” I asked, glad for the interruption to my thoughts. “I’m actually surprised.”
“I usually just go straight in for the honey, y’know. I guess the combination just never occurred to me.”
“Me either.” I said. “Yves says honey’s usually used as an alternative to sugar in desserts. More organic, stuff like that. But he also says chocolate’s got a lot of combinations already.”
“Oh?”
“He didn’t expect me to know.” I shook my head chuckling, remembering how Yves had given me a 101 on chocolates. “Let’s see, there’s matcha chocolate, beer chocolate – although that’s not surprising since we know alcohol’s already a good pair – coconut, jalapeno peppers, tomato – ”
“Tomatoes?”
“Sun dried. Yup.” I grinned at Luke’s grimace. “Do you want to try one?”
“Hard pass.”
I laughed as I gave the chocolate an extra two whisks. The mixture looked smooth enough but I needed it to perfect. “Want to give it a go?”
Luke’s face lit up. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
I handed him the whisk, expected him to move beside me but he didn’t. Instead, Luke just leaned in closer to me, caging me in-between his arms, his chest pressed against my back.
“Comfy?” He asked, and I closed my eyes to remind myself humans did not purr. The rumbling sound was his voice in his chest and not me vibrating with anticipation.
“Yes.” Had my voice always sounded so raspy? I coughed. “Okay, so stir slow, but not too slow.”
“All right.”
“We’re trying not to get air in there but we need it to be a rich consistency.”
“Okay.”
I focused every fiber of my being on the chocolate, trying my very best to ignore how much I wanted to melt into him, to have him wrap his arms around for a tight hug, to turn around and ohmygod was Luke’s breath tickling my ear or am I being too sensitive? Does it feel like he’s brushing his lips against my ear or am I… Maybe I could have a little treat?
The bowl slipped. How did it slip? I yelped, tried to grab at it at the same time Luke stepped back in surprise. I tipped too hard, the bowl tilting, and –
“Ohmygoodness.” I breathed a sigh of relief as I steadied the glass bowl. I had some chocolate on my fingers but it was fine. We didn’t break anything. Yves wouldn’t have our necks. I exhaled a laugh, looked at Luke who was still quite in shock. “That was close.”
“I’m sorry.” He said, his expression turning sheepish. “I just wanted… Too much?”
Too little. But I kept that thought sealed and shook my head instead.
“You got chocolate on your hand.”
“I’ll wash it off. You could continue whisking and I’ll – ”
I’d meant to turn away from Luke, not into him. But as I’ve said, he was big and the kitchen was small and he was in front of me and he’d taken my chocolate coated fingers and brought them to his mouth. All he did was lick, swiping the tip of his tongue on my index finger, before gazing at me with hooded eyes.
If I moved, I felt like he would devour me whole.
So I didn’t and instead pressed my fingers ever so slightly on his lower lip. “Thoughts?”
His smile was playful, almost wicked, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Best chocolate I’ve ever had.”
“Because of the honey?”
“Not just.” Luke’s hands found my hips, his mouth in open invitation. “May I?”
How could I possibly resist?
#be my valentine content creation challenge#ikemen prince#luke randolph#a whole lot less intense than the Day 01#if my day 01 fic was like 5/5 intensity#this is 0/5 and i love it still#i reeled it in because i forget sometimes#ythmir fanfics
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WIP Wednesday Thursday
Title: Extraordinary
Pairings: HotchReid (side pairings Morcia, WillxJJ, others in flirtation)
Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;
Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.
In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.
That’s where the BAU comes in.
Official Posting Date: Now posted on tumblr and Ao3, Click Here
Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)
(TW/CW: This is pretty tame, Emily is just a little intense and eager because Spencer is... well, Spencer, and when she realizes all he can do? Oh she is chomping at the bit. Some trance-like things and witchy stuff and Hotch being territorial without being able to admit it.)
(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: this takes place in chapter 02, what you will all see on Saturday evening, and this version is insanely unpolished (I’m about to go through and fix it up and give it a good make-over) but basically this is the first time Spencer is meeting Emily Prentiss and it makes... an impression. Also, Emily has been at the BAU for about 0.2 seconds and Hotch is already done with her. The sibling energy I love to see. It’s also hella long, as an apology for missing last week and being a day late. All you’ve missed is Spencer about ran into Emily turning a corner and she saved him from spilling his case files and coffee all over the floor. Now they are talking)
–
.
“I apologize, I thought you were an intern or still in the academy.”
“It’s alright, everyone does,” Spencer says without taking offense. He wouldn’t have gotten where he was or lasted very long if he did; however, if he had a nickel for every time someone had been surprised by his age, he’d be as rich as Father Rossi. His full hands actually aids him as he mentions, “I don’t usually shake hands with people, so don’t think me rude. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He offers her a smile in exchange, and it is mirrored on her face just as her surprise kicks up another notch.
“Doctor, my my I am in for a trip on this team, aren’t I?” she laughs, and it’s a melodic thing that stretches over an expanse of time and history. Ballrooms in Russia and palors of France, Elizabethan and the roaring 20’s and everything in between all rolled into one. He’s not sure how he sees it, an impossible thing, but he can read it like a book and that must have something to do with what she is. “Emily Prentiss, it is a remarkable pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. Now, I have to ask--” her tone is so charming and playful and probing he barely notices the nuance, “And I’m sure it’s taboo around here, but I have to know -- your regeneration process. Tell me what it is or what you do. You look so young.”
“I am young,” he states simply, finally stunned by a question he’s not usually asked.
“Yes, yes, we all can’t be a thousand years old like your fearless Vampire leader,” she waves off and Spencer’s eyes widen because… he hadn’t known Hotch was that old. Sure he’d said he’d been alive for the better part of a millennia, but he always said it like a hyperbole. A turn of phrase that’s off by a couple centuries. But --
A thousand years old.
That would put him…
God, that would put him alive, as a human, just before the start of The Crusades.
“Oh, did he keep that to himself? Oops, my bad. Pretend you don’t know. Anyway -- so are you a Shifter? Or use a particular spell? Oh, or is it a curse? I’m fascinated by curses, I don’t use them often myself but the rigidity of terms using a power so chaotic is just such a fun juxtaposition that I--”
“No, no, I’m… normal, human,” Spencer interrupts her, still the smallest bit shell-shocked, but now connects a few dots himself as she speaks. Realizes very suddenly that Ms. Prentiss appears ageless because she is ageless. She’s also a Witch. One of the broadest terms for subspecies categories, which really doesn’t do it justice. A Witch could be a number of things. Someone who uses magic and science and the very Earth itself paired with the spiritual planes to do impossible things. Witches are beings so powerful they should be uncategorizable. Something Spencer is fascinated by as well. He’s never met anyone like Emily. “I look young because I am young. I’m 27, I’ve only been with the BAU for the past three years. I’m a little excited to not be the newbie on the team any more,” he tries to joke, but Emily’s gaze has gone distant and sharp all at once.
“You’re only 27? And you’re a doctor?” She asks in clarification, Spencer nodding along each time. “You’ve been a doctor, since becoming an FBI agent?”
“Um, well -- I’m not a medical doctor. I do have three doctorates, though; in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering,” he finds himself shrinking a bit under her intensely interested gaze. “What?”
“Chemistry?” she asks, vaguely more distant.
“That was my first doctorate,” he murmurs back, not sure what has her looking so contemplative.
“You’ve achieved all of this: three doctorates, FBI agent, BAU -- in 27 years?” she questions, a grave yet wondrous sound.
“Technically I did all of that in 15 years. I graduated high school when I was 12,” he manages to do more than mumble, and Emily’s wide-eyed stare has him spewing forth information like it requires an explanation. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can read 20,000 words a minute, and my IQ is 187 so by human standards yes -- I’m a genius, and borderline on the advanced brain developments scale. But I’m still human. Nothing paranormal or extraordinary.”
The pause that follows is palpable.
“Oh,” she says in an exhale, “Oh, you young soul. You have no idea, do you? What you are capable of...” She tilts her head as she steps closer and Spencer is very suddenly aware that he’s not sure she’s blinked since they started speaking about his qualifications. What he can do, how he got to where he is. No one usually shows this much interest, he makes them uncomfortable for reasons he doesn’t always understand.
Emily doesn’t look uncomfortable, she looks… hungry.
“You are so very, very extraordinary. Exceptional, really. Look at all of what you’ve accomplished with just 15 years of life.” That astonished sound again, like she can’t believe her luck--
And then she’s in his space, gaze boring into his, and Spencer can see galaxies in the depth of her eyes. His breath stolen from him and feet rooted to the floor. So he doesn’t step away as she leans just the smallest bit closer, words resonating with echoes across ages.
“Imagine what you could do with a thousand.”
“Prentiss,” the deep voice of Hotch’s monotone (edged in something vaguely aggressive, and more than a little aggravated) breaks through their moment. The trance fading like a fog from Spencer’s eyes. “No recruiting. It’s in your contract.”
“You have such a gift, it’s a shame to waste it,” Emily whispers in a rush as Hotch approaches them from down the hall. More earnest than intimidating, now.
“Prentiss!”
“Think about it,” she winks, and then turns to give Hotch a smile that’s all teeth so sharp she resembles a shark. “Oh, what a sour face. What’s wrong? Were you planning on asking him first? You snooze, you lose.”
“Conference room,” he instructs, pointing the way Spencer had just come. “Team meeting in 20 minutes. Try not to summon anything between here and there.” She sticks her tongue out at him childishly as she leaves, and sends a quirk of a smile Spencer’s direction that shifts her whole expression into something comically entertained. He’s never seen Hotch interact with someone like this, like they were… familiar, even exasperatingly so. The closest in comparison is probably Father Rossi. But this is less like old friends and more like sibling rivalry.
The space Emily had just vacated is suddenly filled with Hotch, an overwhelmingly welcomed presence and it eases the tension out of Spencer’s spine and shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there.
“Are you okay?” he asks, low and quiet. They’re the only ones in the hallway, but secrecy is a hard habit to break.
Spencer nods, still gaining his bearings once more. “I think so. That didn’t feel like hypnotism. I don’t know what that was.”
“Prentiss doesn’t manipulate minds or the wills of other people,” Hotch tells him, which is soothing if not for the foreboding question of what just occurred. “She doesn’t need to. She can do a lot of things: change her face, her voice, make illusions and talk circles around anyone -- even you.” Spencer looks up to him at that, aware that his level of intelligence is the only thing that keeps him safe from JJ or Hotch’s influence. His mind can’t be bent, or tricked.
“Then what was she doing? I felt compelled but… not against my will. What was that?” he asks, also quiet but much more high in pitch as his confusion turns his voice to a winded sound.
Hotch’s thin, stern frown does nothing to alleviate the apprehension caught up in his chest like a bad cold.
.
“Possibility,” he states, grim and not liking that Spencer had fallen prey to such a short moment with Emily Prentiss and her promise of what her craft could do for him. Hotch is well aware that Spencer’s gift of soaking up every speck on information he’s given like a sponge isn’t something to let wither and die like so many before him. There’s so much he could do with an infinite life, such as his and Emily’s, but the curse of living forever alone is not something to be taken lightly. And not to be decided by someone who still has so much more life to live unaided by other forces.
However, Emily was right about one thing. Hotch can’t deny that he’s thought about it. More than considered it as a definite possibility.
An offer, all his own.
–
Tagged list so far: @physics-magic, @thaddeusly, @ssa-noa, @ssa-sarahsunshine, @tobias-hankel, @reidology, @mintphoenix
#THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET#it's a very long one as an apology for missing last week and being a day late#and also because it's COOL and I have no self control#Emily and Spencer would be a terrifying duo honestly#Also Emily and Hotch have the best sibling relationship ever#if anyone wants in on that taglist hit me up via ask or comment or rb#the story is posted! Updates on Saturday evenings#Extraordinary#HotchReid#Katyswriting#Katyswip#wip wednesday
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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.
.
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 :))
.
.
#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;;#i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss#bts smut#hoseok smut#bts#hoseok#also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go#believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !
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AS YOU WISH; t. kuroo
synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?
pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader
content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, fem!reader
fic navigation
01 ; THE BRIDE
TO BE THE MOST beautiful girl in the world was a concept far past your concern. Those around you certainly saw the potential, but at 16 years old, you simply could not care less to capitalize on your natural beauty. (Beauty routines were exhausting in your eyes. You only washed your face so as not to feel filthy, taking a razor to your leg hair was far more trouble than it seemed worth, and you were quite sick of brushing your hair, so you did so as little as possible.) All you really wanted to do was ride your horse and pester the farm boy that worked for your parents.
Prince, as you had taken to calling the horse when he was just a yearling, was a loyal companion. Other girls your age grew attached to one of their herding dogs’ pups, or the kitten of a barn cat, but you had Prince. He always came when you called, steered where you told him even on a loose rein, nuzzled your face on bad days.
For all the time you spent taunting and bossing the farm boy around—“Farm Boy, fetch me this,” and “Farm Boy, take care of that,”—he always had one thing in common with the horse: he always did as he was told.
(Perhaps you knew that he was really a young man now—he was a year or two older than you—but he had been just an orphaned boy when he first came to work for your father, so that was what you referred to him as: Farm Boy.)
“As you wish,” he always replied, without fail.
Your father was fond of the farm boy, often remarking how he should leave him an acre of land in his will for all his hard work. These conversations never lasted long though, not before your parents would turn to you and chide you for needing to go bathe again and clean yourself up after spending the day in the barn.
Despite your disdain for taking care of yourself like a “proper lady,” as your mother liked to say, your natural beauty was still enough to cause the village boys to flock to you. Those dimwits always liked to badger you with stupid questions whenever you rode into town, offering silly favors and making awkward small talk, much to dismay of the rest of the girls in the village. The boys were always so annoying, and you often noted how much more tolerable Farm Boy was as you dismissed their advances. Eventually they took to making fun of you, laughing over snide remarks about you because they must have been embarrassed about being shot down. Sometimes the insults were too much to ignore, and when that was the case, Farm Boy took matters into his own hands. You always thanked him after he sent a village boy home bloodied and crying, and he always answered, “As you wish.”
You came to realize that Farm Boy was the only boy your age whose presence you seemed to enjoy. One night, you lied awake with the dim light from a full moon crawling through your window, thinking about how he was always kind and respectful to you, how he protected you and your honor, how he seemed to smile at you differently than he ever smiled at the other girls in town. (You also let yourself admit that he was quite handsome, with his amber eyes and ebony hair that was always in a perfect bedhead state, which was something you had never bothered caring about before.)
After that, your time was no longer divided between riding your horse and pestering the farm boy; now, ‘pestering’ was to be replaced with ‘falling for’. You let him join you on rides through the woods on Prince; you began doing your morning reading in the barn to keep him company while he fed the animals; you took it upon yourself to take out any extra supper your mother cooked to him. You even decided to stop calling him ‘Farm Boy’.
“What’s your actual name, Farm Boy?” you asked out of the blue.
“Why do you ask?” he had replied, and you snorted in mild amusement.
“Well, after having known you all these years, it must be quite rude of me to still call you ‘Farm Boy’.”
He paused and grinned that endearing grin of his, “Just call me Kuroo, then.”
Everything was so blissful for the year following. You loved Kuroo, and he loved you. Even on the day the royal Count and Countess of Aobajousai had strangely paid your family a visit, you both were sure of this; because while the Countess took Kuroo’s arm gently for him to show her the dairy cows and the Count watched you intently as you followed the small procession on your horse, you and Kuroo both stared at each other.
At the end of one year though, Kuroo unexpectedly showed up at your window in the middle of the night.
“I’ve come to say goodbye.”
You shot up straight in your bed, cocking your head incredulously, “What do you mean, ‘goodbye’?”
“I mean I’m leaving.”
“Leaving? Have I done—”
“I’m taking to the sea to seek my fortune,” he cut you off. “There’s a ship that sails out of Karasuno, to the new country of Inarizaki. There’s great opportunity there, so I’m going.”
You were shell-shocked for a moment. Leaving? Sailing to Inarizaki? Where was this all coming from?
“But why? What about the farm? What about us?” You finally said. Your voice was already beginning to quiver pathetically as tears brimmed in your eyes.
“I’ve been training at night, so I hardly need sleep or food, and I’ll get two 10-hour-a-day jobs. I’m gonna save every penny, and in just a couple years I’ll have enough to buy a big farm and build a brand new house just for the two of us.”
“For the two of us?” Your brows furrowed and your voice was meek.
“Yes, (y/n). I love you. All these years I’ve stayed here because of you. I’ve taught myself foreign languages, made my body strong, everything, for you. I’ve been head over heels for you since I was a kid. Do you understand what I’m saying, or should I keep going?”
(By now, Kuroo had squeezed his broad frame through your window, somehow landing gracefully on the floor and sliding next to you on your bed so he could wipe away your tears with his thumb. It was a good thing he was athletic enough to do so quietly, because if your parents caught him in your room, all hell might break loose.)
“Never stop,” you mumbled dreamily.
“There hasn’t been a day—”
“You better not be teasing me, Kuroo, or I’ll have your hide,” you broke in this time. Kuroo loved to tease you, and it was normally all in good fun, but if that was the case now, then he was taking it way too far.
“I’d never joke about loving you,” he replied. “Remember all those years when you would tell me, ‘Farm Boy, do this, Farm Boy, do that’? What did I always say?”
“‘As you wish’.”
“Well, that’s just what you thought I was saying. I was actually saying ‘I love you’,” Kuroo smiled gently and ran his fingers through your hair.
All that time? You couldn’t even recall the first time Kuroo started saying ‘As you wish’ to all your commands, but apparently he had been in love with you. Before you had ever even noticed him, he was devoted to you. It sounded like a fairy tale.
“I love you too, Kuroo. I’ll never stop loving you, I swear,” you finally said.
“I’ll hold you to it, princess. I have to go now if I want to make it to Karasuno in time, but I’ll send for you soon. Promise.”
You nodded in understanding, but you couldn’t let him leave without one last kiss.
There had been five great kisses since the beginning of time. Though the precise rating of kisses is a bit convoluted and controversial (everyone knows that the formula for a great kiss is comprised of timing, affection, intensity, and duration, but there has never been a universal agreement on each element’s weight), there was no doubt that this kiss left every other in the dust.
The following morning, all you wanted to do was lay around and mope. It was perfectly justifiable, considering the love of your life had just left the country, and you wouldn’t see him for God knows how long. You wallowed in self pity for about an hour before realizing that Kuroo was out in the great big world now, and with as handsome as he was, he would surely have women throwing themselves at him.
What if all this moping destroys my beauty, and when he sends for me, I’ll arrive in Inarizaki, and he’ll take one look at me and send me back?
“Mother,” you ran downstairs, interrupting whatever petty argument your parents were having. “I need your advice. How can I better take care of my appearance?”
“You’ve never cared about your appearance, honey. Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”
“Well, I’m nearly 18 now. I figure it’s about time I start behaving a little more like a lady,” you lied. It was enough to appease your mother, and she grabbed your arm and began dragging you to the washroom in delight.
You quickly learned that taking such care of yourself was hard work; the saying, ‘beauty is pain,’ made an awful lot of sense now. But for Kuroo, nothing was too much. Every morning, you awoke at dawn to start the farm chores. You had to pick up all the slack left by Kuroo, so there wasn’t really any time for self-improvement until the afternoon, but once you started, you took it very seriously. Daily baths, simple exercises, and all the time it took to brush your hair out perfectly before bed.
If the whole town thought you were beautiful before, now they all knew you must be a contender for the most beautiful girl in the world. You, however, still had no care for how beautiful the rest of the world found you; as long as Kuroo found you beautiful. (In the coming years, you would learn that you were beautiful no matter what, and simplify your beauty routine to what you liked. As long as you felt clean and tidy, that was sufficient.)
Kuroo wrote you letters every few months, and you kept every one of them. Sometimes people would ask you how he was doing, which was a mistake unless they had a lot of spare time, because you could talk about him for hours. It was obvious that you were completely and utterly in love, and so the village boys eventually stopped trying, and the village girls warmed back up to you.
It made sense the way Kuroo’s death hit you the way it did.
The news reached your parents first. The Count (a new fellow named Iwaizumi, appointed by Prince Oikawa shortly after the last one’s death) was sent to your farm to deliver the news since it was Kuroo’s last known place of residence. You were returning from town on your horse when Count Iwaizumi was leaving your property.
“Miss,” he nodded politely as you crossed paths. You rode on in confusion, and the new Count watched you intently, much like the last one.
When you made it into the house, both your parents hushed up and looked at you with pity.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s The Crow’s Wing, darling. It was attacked,” your mother told you.
Kuroo’s ship was attacked? You furrowed your brows, “What?”
“Pirates. In the night,” your father explained.
You knew the trip across the sea would be dangerous, but you never thought it would happen to him. Sliding into a chair, you decided it might be best to sit down.
The room was quiet until you managed to squeak out, “So Kuroo’s been taken prisoner, then?”
A long sigh from your parents, and then, a, “No.”
“It was the Dread Pirate Nekomata.”
You blinked, willing back tears. The Dread Pirate Nekomata was the most famous pirate in all the world, and he never took prisoners. In all these years in his reign of terror, no one survived an attack from the Dread Pirate Nekomata.
You went to your room, and this time around, you allowed yourself to mope. For six days, you sulked, and cried, and mourned. Not once did you come out of your room, so your parents took to leaving food outside your door, which you only ever picked at meekly. During those six days in your room, you decided you would never love again.
#ITS HAPPENING YES#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu scenario#haikyuu imagine#hq fanfic#hq x reader#hq imagine#hq scenario#kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo imagine#kuroo fanfic#kuroo scenario#my writing
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I never told you pt 2
—
A/n: here’s part 2! if you enjoy this and would like to be tagged for part 3(which will be posted tmr 7/8/20) just leave a little👋 emoji.I hope you guys enjoy and have a great day
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Word count: 1160
Warning: Ends on a cliff hanger😢
—
The rest of the day you had been haunted by the look he gave you, the intensity sending shivers down your spine. You stayed after a bit to get caught up on anything else you had missed along with a promise to Chase about etching out the details for Saturday after you got home, it wasn’t long before you practically threw yourself onto your bed. Maybe it would have just been better if you had stayed home today. Instead of berating yourself any longer on decisions that could not be changed, you instead allowed your eyes to flutter shut, and let sleep take you somewhere less stressful.
Bzzt bzzt…..bzzt bzzt….....bzzt bzzt…………..bzzt bzzt
‘what the fuck’ you thought, irritated at being woken up. Flailing around in your sheets a bit before hearing a thud, you snatched your phone from the floor.
Today 6:43 pm
Heyyyyyy, you make it home okay?
Today 6:46 pm
Its Chase, from lunch by the way
Today 6:51 pm
Sorry that probably sounded a little weird,
a random number texting you to see if you
got home safe
Today 6:58 pm
Anyway, just checking to see if we’re still
on for Saturday haha
Today 7:01 pm
Yeah sorry, ended up taking a nap,
how does 11 sound? We could order
some pizza, maybe study a bit?
Today 7:03 pm
Sounds perfect!!! See you then:)
You smiled at his eagerness, finding it endearing. It felt nice being wanted after these past 2 weeks.
‘Welp, time to torture myself some more’ you thought throwing one of Paul’s sweatshirts on. You loved to steal them, especially since he was a big dude to begin with but always insisted on buying oversized ones. The material seemed to swallow you whole when you wore them. Bringing the fabric up to your face and inhaling, it still reeked of his cologne, pine, and salt.
‘I remember that day’
You and him had gone to the beach, him insisting it was going to rain and you just brushing it off saying it was always cloudy in La Push. He ended up being right and never took it back after seeing you shivering when you got inside his car.
“Don't leave me here, Paul!” You yelled as he got up and started sprinting to his Jeep as it started to pour.
“Wait” you could barely get the word out through your laughter as you got up to start running as well.
“Why are you so slow? You. Would. Be. Useless, if this was the zombie apocalypse” he yelled back jokingly running back towards you, opting to just throw you over his shoulder.
Rushing to the car, your laughter seemed to get louder as he made unintelligible noises trying to simultaneously unlock the car, open the door, and quickly seat you down. As he ducked in, looking over to you he put on as serious of a face as he could manage.
“When the time comes, I’m sorry to say, but you must be sacrificed” he said solemnly, slowly dragging his finger down his cheek.
“Dude if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna pee myself” you wheezed holding your stomach. He soon broke into laughter too, starting the car up. Without a word, he pulled the sweatshirt he had been wearing off before draping it over your head and began the 10 minute ride back to your house.
‘Still nice and warm‘ you thought, pressing your face into it. You pulled it on and smiled at him. The rest of the day had been spent eating junk food and watching The Witcher, with Paul commenting about Geralt's hair and what type of conditioner he uses, Ciri being the new Eleven, and mimicking Jaskiers songs, making his own up for the rest of the day.
That was one of your favorite memories with him, and unfortunately what seemed to now be one of your last. A frown tugged at your lips after the realization. You wondered if there was any way to capture the smell, maybe turn it into a spray so you wouldn’t have to forget.
Not for right now at least.
Running to the kitchen and grabbing some food, you quickly ate wanting to go back to bed so you could have a break from these type of thoughts that seemed to cloud your mind, and once again sleep was your only giver of peace.
----
Friday morning you spent almost a half hour just laying there debating if it was worth it to even go to school and risk a part 2 of yesterday.
‘I’ll just say I’m having a bad day and ask to do my work in the library’ you decided, almost forgetting to change out of his sweatshirt. Throwing on some sweatpants and one of your own sweatshirts, you got in your car and sped to school.
The day passed uneventfully, and just as suspected, you were able to hang out in the library for most of the day, haven been given a pass due to it being Friday.
As day became night, thoughts of Paul filled your mind, and you found yourself growing worried about tomorrow. You just didn’t know if you could afford anything else happening tomorrow.
‘Please let tomorrow go okay, that’s all I’m asking’ with those silent prayers in mind, you went to bed.
—-
11 rolled around sooner than you would have liked and Chase had arrived on the dot. You had to stifle a laugh when you first realized, also trying not to think about if he got here early so he could be on time. True to your word, you guys ordered some pizzas and studied most of the day, but you were also able to learn a lot more about Chase. It was actually kinda nice once he relaxed. He ended up leaving around 7 with an awkward hug and a promise to text you later and you were once again left alone.
‘Fuck this’ running upstairs, you grabbed Paul’s sweatshirt and headed out the back door.
Living near the woods definitely has its perks, like a trail behind your house to a clearing on the cliffs. You had discovered it when wondering around one summer and quickly made it a secret hideout for you and Paul. Paul was even able to bring over a bench that you and him painted. That summer had been one of the best, so carefree and filled with memories.
Making your way up the trail, you seem to have spotted the hunched over figure sitting in your bench a second too late. A little gasp left your mouth before you could stop it. You tried quietly leaving but before you could, he spoke up.
“I was wondering how long it would take him to leave” he said, standing up turning to face you.
———————————————————————
A/n: AHHHH IM SORRY, tmr tmr tmr tmr i promise!😂anyways I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget, if you’d like to be on the taglist simply leave a 👋 down below, thank you for reading, and have a great day😊❤️
Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @chiefjacob @fangirlanotherjust @jelly-fishy-babie @dillybuggg @Britty443 @ineedmorefanfics @lahoete
#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote imagine#paul lahote#twilight x reader#twilight imagine#twilight#paul lahote fanfiction#paul lahote oneshot#paul#wolfpack#wolfpack x reader#quileute#twilight fanfiction
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Transiting Mercury stations retrograde
Timeline (current events in bold)
Friday, January 15, 07:56 UT - Mercury enters pre-Rx shadow, 11:01 Aquarius
Wednesday, January 27 - Mercury enters “Storm” (moving less than one degree per day; this is like the actual retrograde getting an early start, sigh)
Saturday, January 30, 15:52 UT - Mercury stations retrograde, 26:29 Aquarius
Monday, February 8, 13:48 UT - Sun-Mercury inferior conjunction, 20:01 Aquarius
Sunday, February 21, 00:52 UT - Mercury stations direct, 11:01 Aquarius
Saturday, February 27 - Mercury exits “Storm” (this is when the retrograde will “feel” like it’s over)
Friday, March 12, 05:09 UT - Mercury exits post-Rx shadow, 26:29 Aquarius
Mercury’s function in our charts is to serve as our inner computer program, which we can boil down to:
Input -> Process -> Output
That means we can equate Mercury’s retrograde periods to “debugging,” or to upgrading the software. Something about the ways we learn, think, and communicate needs work. If you think about Merc Rx this way, it’s much easier to deal with!
In Chrissie Blaze’s book Mercury Retrograde, she has a checklist for every sign. Here’s the one for Mercury Rx in Aquarius:
Plan the rally you envisioned to help the homeless, but don’t schedule it just yet.
Resist your urge to join another new group or voluntary organization until you have investigated its aims and objectives thoroughly.
Don’t break a friend’s confidence - it could backfire.
Study astrology.
Ms M also wants to throw in there: expect your smaller electronics to mysteriously “break” and then just as mysteriously fix themselves. Wait things out as much as possible!
Wednesday, February 3, 06:22 UT - Pluto/Capricorn semi-sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 26:16
Second of three. The Libra Moon will affect this, squaring Pluto and trining Mercury. I think that’s probably lucky; what is usually a subtle aspect (the semi-sextile) gets a bit of the spotlight thrown upon it, and that can only help - right? There’s a difference between a glib mind, and a powerful one.
Placements affected lie between 25:16 and 26:29 of all signs
Thursday, February 4, 23:38 UT - Ceres/Pisces semi-sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 23:55; Friday, February 5, 10:00 UT - Eris/Aries sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 23:30
Second of three for both. The Moon is “helping” this time, too, from the sign Scorpio. It will square Mercury, and inconjunct Eris, but trine Ceres. There may be some issues and/or opportunities involving patterns of thought that are more instinctual, rather than logical. The right brain versus the left brain. Ideally they work together, you know.
Placements affected lie between 22:30 and 24:55 of all signs, but especially the yang ones: Aries, Gemini, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius, and Aquarius.
Sunday, February 7, 13:54 UT - Chiron 6:11 Aries semi-square Mercury Rx 21:11 Aquarius
Second of three. There’s a bit of a vibe of “hurt feelings caused by careless words” with this semi-square. Since it’s the second of three, we can look for a little clarification on what has happened. Perhaps someone older and/or in authority will have something enlightening to tell us?
Placements affected lie between 20:11 and 22:11 of the fixed signs Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, and Aquarius; and between 5:11 and 7:11 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn.
Monday, February 8
00:30 UT - Pallas Athene/Aquarius conjunct Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 20:40
15:58 UT - Sun/Aquarius conjunct Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 20:01
19:05 UT - Vesta Rx/Virgo inconjunct Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 19:45
23:34 UT - Neptune/Pisces semi-sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 19:31
Second of three for everything except the conjunction with the Sun. It’s a big enough deal that I plan on a separate blog post for it. The TL;DR version would probably read something like “installing a new mental software upgrade.”
Placements affected lie between 18:31 and 21:40 of every sign; and between 4:01 and 6:40 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn.
Wednesday, February 10, 14:16 UT - Mars/Taurus square Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 17:43
Second of three. Cam White once mentioned that Mars in Taurus is kind of lazy…! Both the Venus signs can be that way, actually. This day (and the 11th) are already just dazzling with Aquarius energy, and then here comes Mars/Taurus to slow things down. Laziness may indeed be an issue, but so might stubborn attitudes that won’t budge.
Placements affected lie between 16:43 and 18:43 of the fixed signs Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, and Aquarius; and between 1:43 and 3:43 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn.
Thursday, February 11:
10:27 UT - North Node/Gemini trine Mercury Rx/Aquarius, South Node/Sagittarius sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 16:40
23:56 UT - Juno/Sagittarius sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 16:06
Second of three for all of them. These are “nice” aspects, and probably the best way to take advantage of them would be to listen to what other people (especially our partners) have to say. Others’ perspectives are almost always helpful.
Placements affected lie between 15:06 and 17:40 of the yang signs Aries, Gemini, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius, and Aquarius.
Saturday, February 13, 09:48 UT - Venus/Aquarius conjunct Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 14:42
This one is a one-and-done! Aspects between Mercury and Venus are about as “lightweight” as an aspect can get. Just the way the two planets like it. If there is any deep and intense lesson to be learned today, it’s probably camouflaged under a lot of fluff. Still, some of us need to remember that charm and politeness can sometimes help one’s message to get heard.
Placements affected lie between 13:42 and 15:42 of all signs; between 28:42 and 29:59 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces; and between 0:00 and 0:42 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn.
Sunday, February 14, 21:40 UT - Jupiter/Aquarius conjunct Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 13:20
Second of three. This is the final non-lunar major aspect before Mercury’s direct station. (*) Kind of interesting that we get a whole week for it to “simmer.” Jupiter expands what it touches, so literally getting our minds blown may be on the agenda. There is also a possibility of longer-term insights than Merc ordinarily can pull off. An Aries Moon, the next day, may be the actual “trigger” for some kind of insight.
Placements affected lie between 12:20 and 14:20 of all signs, and between 27:20 and 29:20 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.
(*) The lunar aspects remaining, after Mercury Rx’s conjunction to Jupiter, are:
Monday, February 15, 16:50 UT - Moon/Aries sextile Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 12:46
Thursday, February 18, 02:32 UT - Moon/Taurus square Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 11:32
Saturday, February 20, 14:20 UT - Moon/Gemini trine Mercury Rx/Aquarius, 11:02
That last one happens only about 10 1/2 hours before Mercury stations direct. Another potential “sudden flash of insight”!
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TASK .01 || the mutant situation
@c23tasks
what’s your mutant’s ability? humanoid shapeshifting.
what’s your mutant’s classification level? delta.
how old were they when they first discovered their abilities? how did it happen? milo was fourteen, conned into taking part in a vandalism prank because he totes had a crush on the ringleader. when they were caught and pursued, milo dove into a crowd and, upon vehemently wishing to become someone else, he actually did.
so, what can your mutant do with their abilities? milo can assume a perfect replica of any person he’s met, or at the very least seen a picture of. this includes their voice, if he’s heard it. if he hasn’t ( and the shift is based off of nothing more than a picture ), he’ll subconsciously invent a voice that generally fits.
…and what can’t they do (at least, not yet)? milo can’t invent a new or unique face, and he can’t change individual features, like eye or hair color -- it’s all or nothing. he can “remember” one other face at a time and is able to shift back and forth at will, but he can’t switch to a different face, even if he’s used it before, without seeing it again.
what’s one thing they hope to learn or are currently trying to learn with their abilities? he would love to be able to invent a completely new and unique face, or even just subtly tweak the ones he acquires. milo primarily uses his ability to hide and blend in, so having a face that isn’t even borrowed would be exceptionally useful.
what is the most powerful thing your mutant can do with their abilities? do you think they would actually do it? milo could, in theory, impersonate high-level members of government and gain access to a whole plethora of stuff that he Should Not. thankfully, milo has zero interest in doing this and is, in fact, a totally garbage actor.
what are your mutant’s weaknesses? despite various self-taught methods while on the run and now almost a year of training at xavier’s under his belt, milo’s ability is still pretty unpredictable. it’s often triggered as a defense mechanism when he’s scared. it also doesn’t really afford him any benefits beyond cosmetic; he’s still a squishy human, underneath it all.
do they use their abilities in their day-to-day life? in what ways? absolutely. while he was on the run ( both times ), milo would constantly hop from face to face in order to keep himself hidden and off of anyone’s radar. he obviously has much less reason to do that at xavier’s, but he does still face-hop both in training and just to keep developing his skills. here he can use his shapeshifting more in a practice aspect than having to as a full-on defense mechanism.
as a mutant, do they have any goals? dreams? right now, milo truly just wants to live a normal life and have the chance to exist without looking over his shoulder 24/7. he’d love to reconnect with his parents -- they haven’t heard from him since pre-essex, and he hasn’t figured out how to tell them he’s at xavier’s yet ( even if it’s still a secret that the school houses mutants ).
how do they feel about the last 30+ years of mutant history? notably, the presidential address of 1983 and the essex house? the best word for it is conflicted. milo still has a lot of pent-up, internalized mutant-phobia thanks both to his parents and the essex house, and to some degree believes mutants should be monitored -- hypocritical, for someone trying so resolutely to remain off all radars. at the other extreme of the spectrum, the brotherhood frightens and frustrates him for the bad blood they seem intent on perpetuating. as for the essex house, milo suffers from regular bouts of intense survivor’s guilt, even close to a year later. he’s supplied what information he can to the staff at the institute to try and aid any potential rescues, but the essex house feels just as much an impenetrable fortress from the outside as it did from the inside. milo wants to help those who are still stuck inside, continuing to suffer through what he suffered through, but feels powerless to do much about it.
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Developing Sexuality, Discovering Kinks, a Spinal Injury, and Barely Beginning to Explore the Edges of the LGBTQ+ Community
Howdy, y’all. I’m just gonna put this out there - If it’s not for you, just keep on a’scrollin’!
Now, I’ve not really explicitly spoken about my sexuality and how it’s evolved over my almost five decades of life. So, I’m about to start, and believe me, your patience and kindness will be appreciated. If you choose to be a close-minded, conservative, cis-asshole then I strongly suggest you leave right the fuck now. Thank you :-)
If you want to get to know me a little bit more and talk of incontinence and sexuality doesn’t scare you, please continue!
Decade 01: Around four years old, I have my first memories of things related to my as yet totally undeveloped sexuality. No history of physical abuse - Don’t worry about that. It was finding my mother’s menstrual pads. I saw pictures of them in underwear, so I took one and put it into mine. It felt so right and so amazing! I don’t really know how to describe it, but it felt like I needed the whole package of them in my underwear all at once! I got in trouble for using up a package that my mom needed and I didn’t understand why she needed them yet. But I made my first “diaper” out of pads and tighty-whities when I was only four years old. Since I’m gonna be using a lot of numbers, I’m gonna cheat and sacrifice the “proper way” of spelling them out if they’re ten or less.
At 5, I knew I wasn’t built right. I had this thing I peed through that girls didn’t have. Boys had them. But I wasn’t supposed to be a boy! I didn’t like it and hated the feeling of it touching my legs (still do...). I started asking questions about things. Now, my parents are the stereotypical Boomers, “trapped�� in a loveless marriage by dependent children and their own sense of “honor.” Dad was a Medical Corpsman who became a Physician’s Assistant (PA) after retiring, while Mom used to be a Wave (nurse) in the Navy, but became a stay-at-home Mom when she started having children. I’ve 2 brothers and 1 sister, the last of them born 10 years before me. So, when I questioned things, Dad’s response was usually to hand me a medical book and tell me to look it up. Mom’s response was usually, “go ask your father.” So, there I was, a 5-year old with a head full of partially-understood terminology (at best!) and a bunch of clinical photography in anatomy and physiology books. At least I learned the purely physical differences between boys and girls and why I was one and not the other. This made me mad. So. Very. Mad. I cried a lot for a while, finding out that I would never become what I feel I was supposed to be. But I kept reading....
When I was 6 years old, I wrote a letter to my parents explaining how I felt about my body and how it made me feel inside and how I wished I could change and be the girl I’m supposed to be and would they be ok with helping me do this some day?
It was not received well. Not well at all. I’ve spent the last 40 years trying to get over their reaction to it and I still hate them for their reactions with a passion. I feel like I was truly shattered, and the glue I’ve had to use over the years to put myself back together has never been the right type and pieces of me keep falling apart.
Entering Decade 02 (10 to 20 years old): Puberty, damn it! None of my “researches” had even hinted at ways to stop it, and my body started changing in ways that made me very uncomfortable, but there was also this attraction I kept feeling towards some people, and I started getting erections. Now, I knew what was happening and yes, it did feel good to play with myself, but it also felt wrong in that I should have someone entering me, not me entering them, so when I masturbated that’s what I dreamed of - being entered and feeling them expand inside me, them giving themselves up in me, losing control and exploding into me and feeling their satisfaction as my own at having been so desirable. Cockwarming them gently back to hardness and having my own way with their body as their hands stroked my breasts and hips.... Eventually I would orgasm in real life, while dreaming my dream.
I have never had a blow-job. Several girlfriends have attempted, but honestly that’s like the fastest way to shut me down. It instantly kills my dream between one heart-beat and the next, causing me to feel absolutely horrible about myself and this carcass I’m trapped in. I should be going down on you, tasting, caressing, nuzzling and lapping up your wetness as I get more and more achy and wet for you.... Sticking my dick in your mouth is absolutely the worst thing that can happen during any attempt at sexy-times for me. I’d rather have diarrhea on a crowded school-bus.
The problem was, I had been emotionally terrorized by my parents (and now I know how they controlled my access to information...) and the area I grew up in was populated by fairly conservative folks, so I had no exposure to other ways of living and had no idea I could express my sexuality in any way other than by being masculine with it. Ergo, I was very much in the closet, hiding my thoughts and feelings as best I knew how, and retreated from situations that might expose my inner workings. Hence, I’m an introvert who overshares o.0 Start unstacking the bricks from my walls and Watch Out! You might get more than you bargained for :-\
Decade 03 (20 to 30 years old): I was just positive I didn’t want kids. Also had no clue what to do with myself, so I landed in Alaska for about a decade. Isolated, small town, conservative folks (a church on every corner, attended at least twice a week). Repressive. No sex for 8 of those 10 years. Met my (now ex-) wife up there. Internet actually got off the ground and we bought a computer, modem, and had an AOL account! This was around 2002′ish or so. Yeah, I watched the twin towers fall on a tv in a bar in Alaska. But while in Fairbanks, I discovered the old Usenet Newsgroups... and that led me straight back into my diaper-fetish which I’d almost forgotten about... omg, seeing those first photos... I can’t describe the feelings that burned in me.
Decade 04 (30 to 40 years old): Left Alaska and moved to western Washington State. Worked as a Medical Assistant for about 5 years, then re-invented myself as a welder when I got a Federal job. Learning a whole new trade wasn’t easy. Shittons of practice later I was good at it and loving my career, until a toolbag fell on my head in 2008. It could have killed me had I been in any other position. As it was, it hit the top of my head while my spine was almost perfectly straight up’n’down, causing a couple of discs in my neck to blow out. One completely ruptured and the other bulged so badly it could never heal and restricted my movement (couldn’t look up or pull my chin in). To this day I still have a smallish “shadow” on my cervical spinal nerve where the disc exploded and a “dent” where the next one down bulged out. The doctors think that’s why I’m incontinent and really struggle to get hard-ons anymore.
Here’s the rub: I’ve hated this body of mine forever. I’m not supposed to get hard-ons in the first place! I’m supposed to have breasts, hips, hair, a flat front and a curvy bottom, and you should be making passes at me, not vice versa!
So, rather than pursue medical (surgical) options to deal with the urinary and occasional fecal incontinence, I choose to wear diapers and give myself regular enemas. This way I can kinda (mostly) control the #2 and keep it from happening in public, while I can let my bladder just run on it’s built-in autopilot (which is really random, btw). Wearing diapers also helps me with tucking! I can pull the dick out, pop the balls up inside where they belong, tuck the dick as far back as I can and put my diaper on tight. Bingo! A flat front! And a bit of a poofy bottom! YES!!
Decade 05 (40 to 47′ish years old): I’m beginning to feel slightly more confident in my sexuality, though I’m still not comfortable actually trying to seek out anyone special... but yeah - I’m an introvert by nature. Probably need to get adopted by someone because I’m not sure I’ll ever really be brave enough to really reach out first.... But now I’m able to afford nice diapers, I’m buying women’s jeans/pants/sweaters/onesies, and I’m feeling so much better about myself when I’m able to dress up. Keeping my chest and legs shaved helps, too. When I look down and see long, course, curly body-hair... ugh. Hair in the armpits and groin is what’s normal. Chest hair? Get it off! Looking at myself in the mirror, I still hate many aspects of my physical self, but when I’m freshly shaved, diapered and wearing women’s jeans and a lovely pink sweatshirt or just lounging around in a cute diaper and huge sweater, I’m much more able to ignore the things I don’t like.
Lately, as I’ve begun exploring my sexuality a little more, I’ve discovered the joys of dildos. Lemmie tell you what, guys. A traditional male orgasm doesn’t hold a candle to what I’ve felt while playing with a good dildo. After a good, thorough clean-out in the shower (I have a shower-attachment with multiple nozzles and use the long black rubber one), I’ve used a dildo that’s got a bit of a bend near the tip - it’s shaped like a real penis, normal size (not humongous), with a bit of a crook near the glans. By holding the balls & suction cup in hand, it can be inserted and moved in-n-out at that perfect angle to stimulate *all* the right spots inside... I can honestly say I’ve peed, cum, and blew that dildo across the room as my knees hit the floor and I forgot my name during the best, most intense, can’t-walk-for-a-minute whole-body orgasms I’ve ever experienced in my life. The area between the anus and scrotum feels so very hot and heavy, like it’s going to burst, it’s not truly painful but almost close? - It’s an amazingly satisfying feeling. I’d love to hear from you girls out there... Are my orgasms anything similar to yours?
Some day, my dream is to meet someone who can understand me, who can feel where I’m coming from, who can love me even when I’m having difficulty loving myself. Someone who is kind to my broken soul, and who’s idea of a hot date may involve a stop at the adult toy store!
Edited on 01OCT2021: I’m not looking for a Mommy or a Domme. I’m an adult with adult responsibilities and concerns. I’m looking for a partner who’s also fairly self-sufficient. I own my own home, work full time, and being an introvert I need lots of alone time. Someone who’s open and accepting of the fact that I’m diapered 24/7/365 and am perfectly capable of changing myself. And she’ll understand that I don’t just wanna get her out of her jeans for sexy-times, but I also wanna try them on.
Edited again on 02OCT2021: As I’ve just begun actually exploring my sexuality, I’m starting to think I seem to fit into the “enby” grouping (even as I don’t like being stuffed into a box, I find myself doing just that, to myself! Damn categories...). I don’t know all the lingo yet and it feels like the terminology is a living thing that is always changing. Even though I’ve always found women to be super attractive, and I also really enjoy wearing women’s clothes and have dreamed of being a woman for decades, every once in a blue moon a guy really turns me on. I’ve got fantasies about going down on her while he enters me, his hands on my hips pulling me in as he gently thrusts, speeding up slowly as I’m getting wetter, he’s sliding in and out of me faster and faster and I’m lapping up her juices, buried in her scent, the orgasm in all of us building until we simultaneously explode. Then, once we all have our breath back, each of us gently diapers one another. The idea of feeling my diaper sticking to my bum as his seed dribbles out of me is really turning me on again right now! Hearing our crinkles as we move, cuddling in a contented pile, patting bottoms all around.
Am I a “bottom?” Is there such a thing as an independent “bottom”? More research is needed!
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something that i already know
by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)
As soon as Siwon says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong’s astute, masterful, beautiful mind… But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn’t provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.
fandom: kpop, super junior characters: siwon, shindong, eunhyuk ships: shinwon, sihyuk genres: friendship, angst, romance themes: slice of life, one-sided crush, angst with a happy ending setting: high school into college; metro seoul area, south korea word count: 12.7k
read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad
A/N (05/01/2021): Hi, ELF! This is my first Super Junior fanfic :) Title comes from the Backstreet Boys song of the same name; cover image is made by me; and if you recognise anything in the fic, that means I don't own it. Happy reading!
~~~
It's never easy being the new kid in school, and Donghee is no exception. He has no friends; he has to play a lot of catch-up in the first few weeks because where his old teachers left off doesn't match up to where his new teachers are picking up; and he has to spend precious emotional energy acclimating to the culture and social politics.
Add in the fact that it's senior year, and he's at the most elite academy in Gyeonggi on a scholarship—he's seen this K-drama before. He knows how it ends.
"Hey! You're the new kid, Shin Donghee, right? Can I sit here?"
Admittedly, Tall, Bright, and Handsome doesn't usually come up to bully the new kid with such a charming smile on his face in the script, but Donghee still knows his role.
"Yeah, got it. Sorry. Didn't know this was your seat," he mumbles as he hurriedly packs up his lunch and books. He's not trying to make waves on his first day, thank you very much.
"No, no," T.B.H. puts out his hand to stop him from putting his planner away, and Donghee is shocked into stillness from the glaringly off-script performance that the other is putting on. "I meant, like, can I sit with you? I didn't know if you wanted to sit alone or not; but if you wanted the option for company, here I am."
Another winsome smile graces the other's face, and Donghee's eyes narrow. "Are you sure you wanna sit with the scholarship kid?" he asks sardonically. He isn't trying to get away anymore, but he's still not convinced he's welcome here.
Tall, Bright, and Handsome's light dims just a bit, but his pout is still effortlessly charming. It's almost offensive. "Come on. We're not like that here."
Donghee looks no further than just above the other's shoulder and sees a group of girls whispering and giggling in their direction. He looks back at the well-meaning but clueless hero of the story and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. T.B.H. looks over his shoulder to see what he saw, and he at least has the grace to be embarrassed when he turns back around.
Donghee is prepared to give a half-conciliatory, half-I told you so parting glance, but the other student keeps talking. "I'll admit, that's not a good look for us," he says with a grimace, "but would you believe me if I said they were acting like that because of me and not you?"
Considering he's been calling the guy 'Tall, Bright, and Handsome' in his head this whole time, yeah, he could believe it.
Hoping against hope that he isn't about to regret this, Donghee sits back down at the lunch table. T.B.H.'s smile is so bright, Donghee thinks he saw one of the guy's front teeth actually sparkle. "I'm Choi Siwon," he introduces as he extends his hand. Donghee shakes it and wryly thinks to himself that of course T.B.H.'s real name means 'cool.'
~~~
To nobody's surprise, Siwon is part of the popular crowd, which Donghee determines by the look on everyone's faces when Siwon invites him to sit with his friends at lunch the next day. The guys weren't exactly welcoming, but they were polite. He doesn't know whether maybe Siwon said something to them or not about being nice to the new kid; but honestly, he'll take it. He's still not entirely convinced that this is the setup for some sort of 'Carrie' situation or something. It's senior year after all, so prom is coming up.
It isn't until Siwon invites them all over to study together that things shift.
"Bro, what the fuck," Kangin says out of the blue, causing everyone to look up and causing Donghee to drop the pencil he was playing with. Kangin is staring at him—more specifically, his hand—and everyone's attention turns to him instead.
"Uh," he intones, not sure what is happening here and suddenly feeling the urge to look up.
"Do that again," Kangin demands, gesturing at Donghee's hand. His fingers twitch involuntarily at the command, but he genuinely has no clue what he's meant to do. He looks to Siwon with a clear plea for help on his face.
"Youngwoon, what gives?" Siwon asks, using Kangin's real name to snap him out of whatever is captivating the varsity baseball captain.
"Donghee was legit balancing a fucking pencil on his finger!" Kangin exclaims while gesturing helplessly at Donghee's hand.
Donghee understands immediately. "Ah, sorry. I forgot I did that." Without further prompting, he balances his pencil on its eraser at the tip of his middle finger. He moves his hand side to side for fun, showing off how the graphite tip stays roughly at the same point in the air all the while. With a flick of his finger, he launches the pencil up and catches it in mid-air, smoothly transitioning to end with a bow in his seat with the same gesture.
He looks up to find four slack-jawed teenage boys, and he brags, "I can do that with basically anything I can lift."
All pretenses of studying are summarily discarded in favour of testing this theory. Donghee easily balances notebooks, folding chairs, and even a curtain pole (dismantled from the window by an excited Heechul and reinstalled by an amused Siwon).
Once the others are thoroughly entertained, they don't want to go back to studying. Alas, they are at Siwon's house; as rich as he is, he doesn't have any convenient distractions (which Donghee surmises is the point of going to Siwon's to study in the first place). Kibum's the one to recommend just going to the local convenience store and walking around for no reason, which feels a lot like acceptance to Donghee.
In fact, it isn't long until he finds himself hanging out with some of the guys sans Siwon.
Kibum hands Donghee part of his deck for some trading card game he's never even heard of before, much more played; but after two rounds and a gradual learning of the rules, Donghee is now locked into a 1v1 match against Kibum, having just killed Heechul's last creature card.
"You sure your name's Shin Donghee and not Hee Shindong?" Heechul mutters as he throws his cards on the table. "Like, what can't you do?"
Donghee isn't paying him any attention then, instead supremely focused on using his impromptu green-black strategy to beat Kibum with his own deck.
So he's surprised when the next day Heechul slaps his back and says, "Yah! Shindong! I've been calling you for like five minutes!" as he falls into step with Donghee on his way to school. "Run me through the lymphatic system one more time." Donghee obligingly pulls out his notebook and helps his friend cram for their biology quiz that day, but his mind is somewhere else.
He's never had a nickname before, and he likes it.
~~~
Siwon is nothing like what he expects.
He spends most of his free time with the guys now, and he keeps coming back to that realisation.
Siwon is touchy. Like, more affectionate than a dog or a baby could be—combined. Kibum may be the youngest, but Siwon is the baby, and no one seems to mind treating him as such. Shindong is a man who likes his personal space, but Siwon's touches are so genuinely friendly and joyful that he finds himself readily inviting them into his bubble.
Siwon is expressive. Casual observers would never notice more than his charming smile and runway-ready neutral gaze, but he and the guys know better than that. Siwon talks with his whole body. His amusement is measured in congratulatory high-fives, and his stress in head shakes and tapping fingers. Shindong can always tell what he's thinking and feeling.
Siwon is down-to-earth. He's the richest in their friend group by a whole social class, but nothing about him plays on Shindong's financial insecurities. In fact, the first time Shindong hosted his friends over, the power went out, and Siwon was the only one who happened to recognise the strategically placed candles and matches around the living room. He wordlessly helped Shindong light them back up and suggested they take advantage of the dark to tell scary stories. Shindong will always be grateful for that.
Siwon is single. Sure, he doesn't give off playboy vibes, but he is certainly the poster child for monogamy. Shindong would not have been surprised to meet a loving, long-term girlfriend who is just as angelic as Siwon is and somehow twice as gorgeous, but no such person exists. Shindong has seen girls confess to Siwon literally once a day since they became friends (the record for a single day is currently four confessions), but Siwon graciously yet firmly denies them all.
Siwon is his best friend. It starts with study sessions, which turn into de-stress movie nights, which turn into sleepovers—and before he knows it, people from teachers to strangers start considering them a package deal. Shindong doesn't mind, of course. Siwon is less intense when he's not around the others, more introspective and goals-oriented—and Shindong can relate. It's great to have a friend who gets both sides of him and around whom he can comfortably show both sides. He didn't have one at his old school, but he's glad he has someone now.
~~~
"Want the rest of my pork?" Kibum offers Shindong at lunch. "Nah, I don't believe in cannibalism," Shindong says, even as he begins transferring the meat over to his own lunch tray.
The table is silent for a moment, but luckily he places his tray down just as Kangin decides to lay an open-palm slap to his back, laughing uproariously. Heechul is legitimately choking on his own food, and Kibum gives him a nod with a grin to acknowledge the joke.
Shindong feels pretty pleased with himself—he just knew that joke would land—and he glances over at Siwon to see the other's reaction. To his surprise, Siwon is staring at the table with a furrowed brow instead. Shindong frowns but lets it go. It's too bad Siwon was too busy thinking to hear his joke.
After lunch, the two of them only have the last class of the day together, and he notices Siwon still seems to be in a sour mood. Shindong racks his brain trying to remember if Siwon had a test he was worried about today. Maybe he feels like he failed?
"Hey, man," he calls out to Siwon after the final bell rings. "Wanna get some gyoza? On me."
Siwon's face brightens for the first time since lunch, and Shindong knows he made the right call; but in the time it takes for them to head to the Japanese place near his house and settle into a booth, Siwon's mood is dark again.
The table is quiet as Siwon plays with his food, making no move to eat any. Shindong stuffs two fried shrimp pieces in his mouth as casually as possible. Don't ask him why, but he thinks talking with his mouth full will help break the ice. "Hey, you good? You've been in a mood all day."
Siwon briefly meets Shindong's carefully neutral stare then averts his eyes to the table. "I don't like it when you do that," he mutters.
Shindong freezes with the next set of two gyoza halfway to his mouth. "Eat? Sorry man, I'm very diligent about my eat-anything-in-sight diet. If I stopped being fat, the girls at school would be all over me instead of you, which would disturb the balance of our friendship." He ends with a bite of dumpling and a cheeky grin.
"No, that! The self-deprecating jokes about your size!"
They both freeze. Siwon did not mean to blurt it out like that.
He deflates a little in his seat in embarrassment. "I don't like them. They make me sad," he continues in a much quieter tone.
Shindong did not see this coming and, frankly, has no idea how to react. "Um, you want me to stop being fat?"
"No, I want you to stop drawing attention to it. It's like you have to make a mean joke about your size first before anyone else can. No one in the group would ever be mean to you about it; I wouldn't let them," Siwon states adamantly. He means every word. The second one of the others crosses a line, he wouldn't hesitate to make sure they never, ever did it again.
The words are out before Shindong fully thinks about them. "You can say the word 'fat,' Siwon. Newsflash, I am fat. I'm as fat as you are tall. It's just something about me. I won't hesitate to make a fat joke any sooner than Heechul would hesitate to make a bi joke." His frustration surprises even himself, so he takes a sip from his water to calm down.
Siwon takes that as his cue to plead his case, and pleading he is. "It doesn't bother you that that's the part of yourself you decide to play up for the jokes? You're a great dancer, and you're quick on your feet—literally and figuratively! You'd be so great at, like, slapstick or something!" Shindong snorts, but Siwon forges on. "I just don't like seeing my friends laugh at you for… for being fat when you're so much more than that."
Shindong doesn't say anything, just lowers his head, and Siwon sighs. "You want to make a fat joke, don't you." "AND I'M SO MUCH ALREADY—okay. I'm done, I'm done."
Siwon withers and lets his head drop to his arms on the table. Shindong laughs, all tension dissipated. "So, this is clearly bothering you a lot," he needlessly observes. Siwon nods his head without lifting it up, and Shindong takes pity on him. "Alright, I'll try to tone it down. Or maybe I'll do like you said and just sprinkle in other kinds of jokes. No one likes a one-trick pony anyway."
Siwon peeks up through his eyelashes, and Shindong nods faux-sagely. "And maybe in the future when I'm rich and can afford therapy, I'll find out you're right and my brand of humour was simply a defense mechanism for some deeply internalised fatphobia all along. Then you could say, 'I told you so.'"
Siwon shakes his head resolutely. "That's not something I want to be right about."
Shindong shrugs in a 'suit yourself' manner and goes back to eating, and Siwon follows suit.
After a stretch of companionable silence, Siwon speaks up again. "I knew you're fat—I know it—but I don't think I understood that being fat was a part of you. Thank you for giving me a chance to understand you better. I thought I was intervening in something unhealthy, but I see now that that wasn't as righteous as I thought it was." He pauses then and doesn't continue until Shindong looks up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry if I came off as insensitive or, worse, embarrassed. You don't embarrass me, Donghee."
Shindong looks back down at his food, unsure of what the emotion is in Siwon's voice as the other said his real name. "I know, but thank you."
~~~
Shindong is everything he didn't know he needs.
As the school year progresses, Siwon finds himself feeling lighter and lighter, and he can trace all of his growing juvenescence directly to his new best friend.
Shindong values hard work. The other guys are great at their own things, but they're missing that fire under their butts that makes them actually try. Shindong doesn't just put in the effort; he also appreciates the challenge and sees it as an opportunity instead. Shindong empowers Siwon to embrace his own challenges in a way that he didn't feel like he could do until Shindong came around.
Shindong tries new things. Siwon is a rather adventurous guy himself, but that's not what he means. Shindong picks up and drops hobbies as quickly as Heechul switches partners, and he's amassed a great wealth of knowledge as a result. He's dynamic, and Siwon could never get bored of the way Shindong talks about his niche interest du jour.
Shindong speaks his mind. His friend group is made up of some pretty lax guys, which is great until some of them get into an argument. They never really talk things out, instead waiting until it's no longer annoying to be in the same room and just choosing to let it go. When Shindong is offended, you'll know. When he's wrong, he'll admit it. It does lead to some tension at first, but they all end up better for it as a result, and Siwon wishes he could be that brave.
Shindong trusts him. When Siwon was planning on hosting the guys over at his house for Kangin's birthday since he has an indoor pool and hot tub, Shindong shyly asked him to think of something else because he's afraid of water. That was a request Siwon was more than happy to oblige if it meant including Shindong in the festivities.
Shindong doesn't need him to be 'on' all the time. One time Kangin invited himself over to one of their hangouts—he and Shindong had planned to read the newspaper together to catch up on current events and financial affairs—and he got bored and complained that they should do something more fun. Before Siwon could worry Shindong felt the same way, the other had sassily defended their brand of bonding and just told Kangin to leave if he didn't like it. Siwon loves the fact that Shindong cherishes that quiet time together as much as he does.
Siwon thinks he maybe just loves Shindong.
~~~
Shindong slides into the seat beside Siwon in their first shared class of the day just as he slides an envelope across Siwon's desk. The envelope happens to have the same seal as the university into which Siwon is planning on matriculating. They offered him a spot on the varsity basketball team and sponsored on-campus living, and Mama Choi didn't raise no fool.
Siwon raises an eyebrow in interest, and Shindong simply points at the envelope with his chin. Siwon takes that as the invitation it is, and he pulls out the letter inside.
Congratulations, Donghee! You have been accepted…
Siwon whips his head up to look at Shindong, who has the largest shit-eating grin on his face.
They need to talk about this. Now.
"Seonsaengnim!" Siwon abruptly interrupts the teacher's lecture with his hand straight in the air. He ignores all the eyes that turn to him in shock. "Donghee isn't feeling too well. Can I take him to the nurse?"
All attention shifts to Shindong, who improvises in stride. "Ughhhhhnnnn," he groans pitifully, slouching over on his desk for added effect.
"Very well, then," the teacher waves off. Siwon stands up and bows hastily before half-guiding, half-dragging Shindong out the door. "Awwwwwwgggggghhhh," Shindong keeps up the ruse as he stumbles out, affecting delirium.
Once they're out of sight from the doorway, they run down the halls until they reach the bathroom, trying without success to contain their giggles along the way. "Couldn't give me a head's up back there?" Shindong teases as he sits on the edge of a sink, lightly panting.
"Couldn't give me a head's up that you were applying to my university?" Siwon punches Shindong's shoulder, acting affronted, but he swoops in for a bone-crushing hug immediately afterwards.
Shindong awkwardly returns the hug. (Siwon pinning his arms to his side means he can only reach Siwon's elbows.) His voice is quiet when he says, "My hopes were already up. I didn't want to get yours up, too."
Siwon gets it, so he lets it and Shindong go. The excited smile stays on his face, though. "Are you gonna go?"
"I don't know, man. They gave me a scholarship, but that just brings the tuition cost down to the same price as the local uni. I'd still have to get a job or a work-study to help offset the costs; and on top of that, I'd be so far away from home…"
"... But you're willing to go through all that just to keep going to the same school as me?" Siwon offers cheekily, squashing that incredibly light feeling in his chest with humour.
Shindong rolls his eyes. "I was gonna say, 'But all that is doable, and hey, at least you'll be there for me to mooch off of,'" he says with an attitude, but the corners of his lips quirk up at the end.
"You're right. I'll be there for you," Siwon affirms. Something about the serious way he said that makes Shindong feel like he's missing something, but he brushes it off. He was a little nervous about going so far away for school, but he has a feeling he'll be fine with Siwon around.
~~~
Siwon sidles up to Heechul, who casually throws his arm around the newcomer's shoulders despite the height difference. "How's my favourite wallet doing?" Heechul teases.
They're the only two to share this free period, and they often spend it outside, chatting, listening to music, doing homework, whatever. This time, Siwon finds Heechul leaning against a wall and people-watching.
"What's your read on Shindong?" Siwon asks as casually as possible. He's hoping he doesn't need to explain further, and luckily Heechul doesn't need clarification. Heechul knows what Siwon means.
He also knows: "Give up before it's too late."
Siwon's hopes plummet. "Really?" he asks, face and voice coloured by obvious disappointment.
Heechul looks over at Siwon and realises it is, in fact, too late for the other. His heart clenches for his long-time friend, and Heechul finds himself equivocating out of a need to assuage him. "Maybe I'm wrong for once. Like, what do I know? I'm just 18."
Siwon tries on a bright smile. "Yeah, maybe. There's gotta be a first time for everything, right, hyung?"
But now is not one of those times, and Heechul knows it. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though." He tries on a reassuring grin and a friendly knock on Siwon's shoulder.
He knows it looks more like a grimace, and he knows Siwon is ignoring that. He just doesn't know how long it'll take before Siwon's heart breaks.
He may not have had Heechul's fullest support, but Siwon has spent Too Many days thinking about this to go back now. It took long enough as it is to even get to this point; but if he's being honest with himself, he knew it was only a matter of time.
He finds his opportunity on their way home from school the week before showtime.
"Shindong, wanna go to prom with me?" "What?"
Shindong gives him a look so incredulous, Siwon is reminded of one of those dogs with smushed faces. The thought makes him smile even though his heart feels simultaneously too heavy and too fast.
"Should I, um, should I repeat myself?" he asks while trying to hide his shaking hands by grabbing onto his backpack straps.
"I'm just… so confused. Didn't Kwon Boa ask you to prom yesterday? Did she dump you already? What did you do?!"
In truth, Siwon turned her down as soon as she asked him, but saying that now would be unhelpful for his purposes.
"Even if you did somehow fuck up your chance with the prettiest, most sought-after girl in school, you still could ask literally anyone to be your date? Why would you go the friend route for prom? It's not even a valid Plan Z," Shindong continues.
Siwon pouts. "If I can ask anyone, why can't I ask you?"
Shindong is unimpressed, and Siwon wavers in his conviction. He wasn't originally going to tell him, but…
This could be it. This could be his chance to confess to Shindong.
There's always the chance that Shindong would reject him, of course. He'd probably use Siwon's own technique against him, too; that would be pretty pathetic. Then he'd promise that this wouldn't affect their friendship, except it will because he'll be too awkward around Siwon; and slowly but surely, he'd pull away from the other until Siwon finds himself at university, alone and painfully aware of how close he is to his best friend who is completely out of reach—oh God, of course he can't confess to Shindong.
The aforementioned snaps his fingers in Siwon's face, and Siwon resolutely sticks to his plan. He throws a casual arm around Shindong's shoulder and forces them to keep walking. "I heard from the seniors before us that prom's more fun with friends anyway. Why go with some girl I don't know when I can go with you?"
"Siwon, I know you're lying to me."
"What?" Siwon's step falters.
"We're best friends, of course I know." Besides the fact that Siwon is unconsciously telegraphing, the other guys have found dates already. Siwon would have brought it up with all of them if he really wanted to go with friends.
Siwon bites his bottom lip, waiting for whatever fallout comes from his decision to open this can of worms.
Shindong sighs and slips his hand into Siwon's. He's learned touching helps. "It also means I know when to let it go. I'll go to prom with you, flower boy."
Siwon cannot contain himself. "HE SAID YES!" he yells into the sky as he runs around, hooting and hollering in unadulterated jubilation.
Shindong shakes his head with annoyed fondness as he continues walking home, expecting Siwon to catch up with him once he's tired out.
(And it turns out Siwon's seniors were right: prom is a lot more fun with friends.)
~~~
Their final hurrah takes place at the height of the summer. Between family vacations and Siwon moving in early for the summer basketball bootcamp the university is making him attend, it's the only time they'll have where all five are available before the fall comes and scatters them away.
Siwon's family lets them borrow one of their cars for the day, and they make the maknae drive them all the way to the beach as early as they could go (read: as early as Kangin could wake up). The day progresses with plenty of frisbee on the sand, frolicking in the sea, and flirting at the food shacks. The ever present feeling that this may be the last time all of them are gathered together in a long time is never lost on any of them, so they make the most of every moment, earning them unheeded glares from the lifeguard on duty.
Sunset finds them around a small bonfire near the surf. To no one's surprise, Kangin managed to lift some beers from his parents, so they drink as they talk and watch the embers float up into the gradually darkening sky. Gone with the sun is the high energy from the day, leaving behind a calmer and more contemplative atmosphere.
Heechul speaks up after a comfortable stretch of silence. "So, I already know what those two fogies are doing come fall," he says while pointing to where Siwon and Shindong sit on opposite sides of the fire, "but what about you guys?" he directs towards Kangin and Kibum. "All I know is that college really isn't the cards for you."
Kibum ducks his head shyly. "I, uh, made it past the first round of auditions at MS Entertainment."
"WHAT?!" "Like, the MS Entertainment!?" "Um, when was this?!" "You're thinking of joining the entertainment industry?"
The last question surprisingly comes from Siwon, and the other guys shoot him a look. Siwon lifts his hands up in defense. "It's just that, Kibum, I've never even heard you sing."
Kibum shakes his head. "No, I wanna be an actor. I realised it after I missed out on auditions for the school play. For just a few hours a day, it'll be nice to pretend I'm not me. I think I could be really good at it if I got the chance." The guys nod, knowing very well how Kibum struggles to be and express himself without pretense.
"I can't wait to see you on TV one day, man," Shindong says with a smile. "If you book a commercial, I am buying one thousand units of whatever you're selling. I don't care what it is. I'll end up with a thousand pairs of jeans if I must," Kangin jokes.
Kibum grins appreciatively and nods towards Kangin in turn. "What about you, then?"
Kangin puffs out his chest with pride. "I'm gonna start at a baseball development camp out in Gangwon. If I work hard and play my cards right, I might get recruited at one of the farm teams in the Futures League. It would be awesome if I got into one of the Seoul clubs, just so I could stay close to home."
Shindong smirks. "Okay, let's say you had to go to a southern team. Which one would you pick? 1, 2, 3…"
"The Dinos."
Heechul barks out a laugh. "If you think I'd go all the way to fuckin' Changwon just to see your sorry ass… Well, a bitch might."
Siwon quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What is the self-proclaimed biggest star in the universe, the Great Kim Heechul, doing instead?"
"Whatever it takes, man," Heechul says with a snort. "I'll get some part time jobs here, travel a little there… Just figure life out as it comes."
Kibum nods, well-acquainted with Heechul's myself-against-the-world attitude. Shindong, for his part, tries his best to offer a smile without looking pitying. He can't help but feel like Heechul is making his life harder for himself than it has to be—but now's not the time, and neither is he the person, for that conversation.
Kangin counters, "You might find yourself in Gyeongsang anyway then, hyung."
"Yeah; and if you were paying attention to me, you would have known I acknowledged that already, dumbass. Clean the wax outta your ears."
"How about I clean your clock instead!" Kangin yells as he launches at Heechul, and they start wrestling in the sand.
Shindong watches, reveling in the familiarity of the moment, and thinks about how close he was to not having any of this. "When I first moved here, I was pretty sure I was gonna spend the school year alone." The words come out of his mouth without prompting; but now that they're out, he finds he actually has something to say.
The boys turn their attention to him, Kangin and Heechul halting their bickering and sitting in place where they found themselves on the sand, and Shindong continues. "You know. I was the new kid, I was only able to afford the school because of my scholarship, I'm fat. If life were like a TV show, that wouldn't have been the most successful combination of factors." He quirks the corners of his lips up in a wane half-smile, then turns his gaze from the fire to the earnest faces of his friends. "But I met you guys, and nothing happened like I thought it would. Thanks for giving me a chance."
"Aish," Kangin says as he gets up and moves back towards the group. He stops behind Siwon and places a hand on his shoulder. "Don't thank us; thank this guy. He texted us one day all, 'I invited the new kid to sit with us at lunch tomorrow. Try not to be dicks.' If it weren't for him, I probably would have pushed you into the lockers once or twice just for fun."
"I probably would have helped," Kibum says with a shrug.
"I probably would have filmed it," Heechul pipes up.
Siwon waves their comments away with good humour. "You guys aren't that mean. Maybe you would have slapped the books out of his hands, but that's really it."
"Maybe we aren't mean now, but that's because you made us soft. Remember when I made Go-seonsaengnim cry in freshman year just with a glare?"
The conversation readily turns to their early high school memories, which Shindong would normally have loved hearing about, but his attention is elsewhere.
The dim light afforded by the fire casts impermanent shadows on Siwon's face that alternately highlight his boyish features and give him the appearance of a grown man. Shindong watches this and feels like he's seeing the present blurring into the future before his very eyes, and he finds it especially poignant that Siwon is the focal point of that illusion considering his role in changing Shindong's own life.
He's going to miss his friends and the gentle feeling of home he managed to cultivate for himself among them, but at least he won't have to miss Siwon.
~~~
College is harder than Shindong thought it would be, but it's easier in other ways too. He plays the first semester safe (he's not trying to get his scholarship revoked before the first year is over, thank you very much); but when the second semester comes around, he knows what liberties he can take with himself to have more fun without sacrificing his studies.
So when the volleyball team holds a party and invites the basketball team, Siwon offers his plus one to Shindong, and he double-checks that he doesn't have a shift at the campus mailroom the next day… well, he doesn't say no.
It isn't the first time he's gotten drunk (there's no way you could be in Siwon's friend group for a year without sustaining at least one hangover); but after a whole semester and winter of working and studying practically non-stop, the lack of inhibitions feels better than it ever had before.
Siwon is far more drunk, however. He is as clingy as ever, introducing Shindong to all of his basketball friends (and even some strangers) and constantly slurring "I miss youuu" into his ears.
He would hate it except he loves it. He misses the guy, too, after all.
"Shindong! Let's go see the stars!"
Siwon drags Shindong to the backyard of the house holding the party, no less noisy but definitely less crowded. He happily settles down onto one of the logs around an unlit bonfire and pats the space next to him in a clear invitation. The happy grin on his face is replaced with a pout when Shindong decides to sit on a different log just to tease him, but that doesn't stop him. Siwon just moves to Shindong's log and cuddles into his friend's side, enjoying the warm feeling spreading inside him. Is it the beer or the company? In any case, it's the most cosy he's felt since school started.
Siwon chances a glance upwards at Shindong. Not for the first time, he cannot help but notice how soft the other looks in the moonlight. His cheeks always look so fluffy and pinchable, but Siwon has never wanted to hold Shindong's face more than he does right now.
When he notices that Shindong notices that he is looking at him, Siwon is just drunk enough to hold his gaze.
Siwon is just drunk enough to move his face forward, as slow as the movement ends up being. Maybe that's because he's drunk, too. He's definitely not sober enough to stop.
Then he's drunk in a different way, because Shindong is the one to bring their lips together.
The moment is perfect, even more perfect than Siwon had ever dreamed of—and oh, did he dream. In the back of his mind, he thinks about going to church three times a week from now on to thank God for this blessing.
He wants to deepen the kiss, he wants to lean closer, he wants to touch—but just as he thinks about doing any of that, Shindong pulls away with a giggle. Siwon laughs too, giddy and uninhibited as he is. He reaches for Shindong's hand and wonders how long the other has felt the same way as he did.
The hand for which Siwon had been reaching escapes to throw a bro-y, friendly punch into Siwon's shoulder. Siwon is mildly confused, but nothing can wipe the smile from his face now. He just kissed Shindong! Is right now too soon to be calling each other boyfriends?
"That wasn't so bad, right?" Shindong says as he looks back up at the sky.
Uh, right. Understatement of the century. That was amazing, stupendous, earth-shattering, future-defining—
Shindong keeps talking. "Not exactly how I thought that was gonna happen, but there's no planning for these sorts of things anyway. What's college for if not experimenting and cutting loose?"
Siwon's lovestruck internal monologue stutters to a stop. "What?"
"Don't get me wrong, you're the prettiest guy I know—full stop—but if kissing you doesn't make me feel something, then I definitely must be straight." Shindong starts cackling then, like he said the funniest joke in the world.
Siwon's hearing fails him, but all he can think about now is how badly he wants to rewind time.
He wants to go back to before he knew what Shindong's lips felt like.
He wants to go back to before he had the first drink.
He wants to go back to before he even met Shindong.
"I gotta go," he manages to say, crushed as he is under the weight of the guilt he felt when that last thought traitorously passed through his head.
Shindong laughs harder when he watches Siwon stumble away. Poor guy must be so drunk. He might not even make it to the bathroom in time.
~~~
Avoiding Shindong isn't as hard as one would think. They're different majors. They live in different residence halls. He has the basketball team too, and Shindong was never the kind of person that keeps up with all his friends' activities anyway. A little "Sorry, I'm meeting someone for a project" here, a little "Sorry, Coach is slamming us with extra practise" there, and a whole semester passes by without spending extended time with his best friend and—he's not afraid to say it now—the love of his young life.
And that's exactly why he needs to avoid Shindong. He can't face Shindong casually right now—not when the only thing that will be occupying his mind is the look on Shindong's face immediately before, not when his palms itch to touch the other's cheeks so he can fold that feeling into his memory. He can't know what it's like to kiss Shindong and not be able to kiss him again.
So he's depressed, he's lonely, and he's irritable—exactly the kind of mindset you want to be in when you meet someone new.
"Hi, I don't think we really talked before," the lanky kid says as he stands up straight from where he was leaning beside the open door to Siwon's room. "I'm Hyukjae, but my friends call me Eunhyuk. I live down the hall." He points over his shoulder with his thumb as if Siwon didn't know which hall he was referring to, and the gesture immediately gets on his nerves.
Siwon glares at him, and the guy—Hyukjae; they're not friends—smiles a wide, gummy grin. "Sorry to bother you like this, but I noticed you were taking your stuff to your car. Are you packing your things into storage for the summer?" Siwon nods mutely, unsure where the other is going with this and approximately three seconds away from blowing him off.
"Listen, I have, like," he pauses to rummage around in his pockets and count the pieces of paper he pulls out, "10000 won on me right now. If I give you that and pay for gas and—I don't know—buy you dinner afterwards, would you help me move mine into storage too?"
Siwon's glare turns incredulous, which makes Hyukjae facepalm. "Oh! And of course I would help you move your stuff. That's a given. Although… you certainly don't look like you need the help."
At this last statement, Eunhyuk gives him a quick once over, and Siwon bristles. This whole situation is really grating on him. Why did this guy look at him like that? Why does it bother him that he did? Why is he supremely against this mildly reasonable request?
(Well, he knows why, and that's only adding to his frustration.)
Hyukjae senses how close Siwon is to turning tail, so he resorts to drastic measures. "Bro, help me out," he begs as he clasps his hands and falls to his knees. "I live all the way out in Ilsan, and I don't have a car. I would be, like, super indebted to you!"
"Ilsan isn't that far away," Siwon points out unimpressedly.
"Indebted!"
He stares at the boy's pout, the hands grasping cumbled bills of won, and the mullet-esque hair and thinks he might actually be more pathetic than even Siwon feels these days.
"... Alright."
Siwon ignores the other's resulting cheers as he returns to his task. He figures that the sooner he gets this over with, the faster he can go back home for the summer.
~~~
Like Siwon said, Ilsan isn't that far away.
As in, he and Hyukjae didn't have the worst time together while moving their stuff, Hyukjae decided they are now friends, and Hyukjae commutes into Seoul every other weekend to pester Siwon into hanging out with him.
In the beginning, he had no problems brushing the other off. Hyukjae isn't bad people necessarily, but he's a brat.
Case in point: The first time he actually agreed to hang out, Hyukjae forgot his wallet and Siwon begrudgingly paid for their excursions that day. Hyukjae hasn't brought his wallet with him since.
After that first time, however, it became harder and harder to turn Hyukjae down. He's depressed, he's lonely, he's irritable—but somehow none of that has pushed Hyukjae away yet. Against his better judgement, Siwon cannot help but be drawn to the individual who is experiencing the worst Siwon has to offer and chooses to spend time with him anyway. It's… nice.
The summer proceeds like that: Eunhyuk having a new hare-brained adventure haphazardly planned for the day, Siwon's wallet finding itself thousands of won lighter each time, and Siwon slowly getting out of his funk and coming back to himself.
Even as the summer draws to a close and their event options dwindle down, Eunhyuk manages to find something for them to do. A couple of weeks before they're set to move back in for the beginning of the next school year, Eunhyuk takes Siwon to a trendy new pop-up cafe in Itaewon.
Siwon likes it. It's lively but not too loud, the food isn't half bad, and the interior is fresh-looking without being overly cute.
He doesn't say any of this though, mostly because Eunhyuk isn't really saying anything either.
It's a testament to how much he feels like his old self again that he strongly considers asking the other what's wrong. Old Siwon wouldn't have hesitated. New Siwon rationalises if something is really bothering the other, Eunhyuk would say something himself.
He's halfway through his cheesecake when Eunhyuk lets his fork clatter to his plate. "Siwon, there's never gonna be a good time or a good way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it. I like you."
Well, of course Eunhyuk likes him. He basically spent the whole summer with Siwon. The surprising part here is that Siwon means it when he says, "I like you, too."
Eunhyuk's eyes do something funny, then he shakes his head. "No, like—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and on the exhale he says, "Wanna go on a date with me?"
"... Oh."
And then Siwon's senses shift. His heart beat speeds up just a fraction more than it had been before Eunhyuk began talking, but he can't hear the crowd of the cafe anymore. Everything behind Eunhyuk's determined, hopeful face blurs into a mess of colours and light. When he swallows, he still has the aftertaste of the strawberry syrup from the cheesecake on his tongue.
"Um, okay," is all he says, but he can feel his lips tug upward in a small grin without his direction.
Siwon is greeted with a gummy smile, familiar yet new, and he cannot help but focus in on the revealed shade of pink.
~~~
Honestly, he forgets about Siwon.
There's only so many times he can get blown off before he stops trying to reach out in the first place, you know? Then midterms came around, then it was finals season, then he was too wrapped up in trying to find an on-campus job for the summer so that he wouldn't have to waste money and time moving out of his residence hall… Before he knows it, it's been a year since he and the guys had their beach day, and he uncomfortably realises he can't remember the last time he spoke to Siwon. Was it at that party in the beginning of last semester? That can't be right.
And yet, for a reason he cannot explain, he doesn't immediately reach out to Siwon first.
He starts off with Kangin, who hasn't made it to a team yet but has met with several scouts already and believes it's just a matter of time. Heechul answers him in English, of all things, and he has to use a translation app to find out that Heechul spent seven months in Australia as a freelance Hangul-speaking museum guide before coming back to South Korea to work at a brewery out in Jeju-do. When he texts Kibum asking if Kangin had made good on his promise to buy 100 units of whatever his latest commercial was selling, Kibum simply says, "lol."
Finally, the only one left is Siwon. Shindong is weirdly anxious to talk to him again, but he firmly pushes that aside.
He tries a text at first; but after two days with no response, he ups the ante.
"Hello?"
"Siwon-ah!" he cheers into the receiver. It had been so long since he heard Siwon's voice, and just the sound of it lifts his mood.
"Shindong-hyung, you called me." Siwon's voice sounds incredulous, and it makes him laugh. They're not people for phone calls, admittedly. It wasn't necessary back when they spent almost all their waking moments together.
"Hey, if you had just texted me back, I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures."
Silence, then chuckles on the other end of the line. "Yeah, that one's on me, isn't it? I did that thing where I read it but only replied to it in my head."
Shindong waits for more, but Siwon doesn't continue from there. "So, um, what's been up with you lately?" he asks stiltedly. He frowns; he and Siwon don't do small talk. He tries again, "Did I mention I'm on campus for the summer? I got a job as the front desk guy at the Alumni Office. It has its boring moments, but at least I didn't have to move out of the dorms. I know some of the guys on my floor even rented a storage unit so that they wouldn't have to move back and forth with their stuff, which is just… so far beyond my budget right now, haha."
Siwon makes a funny noise like he choked on his own spit. "Siwon?!" Shindong calls concernedly into the line.
"It's fine, hyung," Siwon croaks out. "Listen, you kinda caught me at a bad time. I'd love to talk more, but I gotta go."
"Oh, sure," Shindong says in surprise. "See you when the school year starts up again, yeah?"
He holds onto the phone tightly. He doesn't know what he's wanting to hear exactly, but he waits in anticipation for Siwon's response anyway.
"Yeah, of course. See you later, Shindong."
The line clicks silent, and Shindong doesn't let himself read into it. Like Siwon said, it was just a bad time.
~~~
The new school year isn't terribly different from the previous one, but Siwon likes what it brings. He's still balancing the basketball team and classes, but he has Eunhyuk now. Eunhyuk introduces him to his best friend Donghae, and college starts feeling less like something happening to him and more like something he's living.
Early into the new semester finds the three of them grabbing lunch on campus, Siwon and Eunhyuk playing footsie under the table and ignoring Donghae's gags in the background. They're not really talking about anything important, so the conversation is easily derailed by the sound of someone hollering from across the student union.
"Siwon! Ya, Siwon!"
Siwon temporarily freezes. He didn't expect to hear that voice again so soon. He can feel his face do something funny as his body and his mind fight for control over what to do. He wants to play it cool; he wants to ignore the voice; but more than anything, he wants to see Shindong again. He has ever since the summer.
He listens to that part and turns around in his seat to wave. The sight of Shindong's eyes scrunched up in happy half-moons behind his thick-rimmed glasses makes his heart ache even as his body relaxes from tension he didn't know he was carrying. He misses Shindong.
"Siwon, you brat! I didn't hear from you much this summer, and I barely saw you last semester!" Shindong laughs jovially before turning to the other two at the table, and Siwon is surprised to remember they were there. "Hey, I'm Donghee, but you've probably heard this guy call me Shindong. Mind if I join you?"
Siwon eagerly motions for Shindong to grab a chair, and Donghae says, "Hey, Donghee. I'm Donghae." as if it were the most clever observation in the world.
Siwon eyes Shindong's politely amused grin and cannot help but laugh. God, he forgot how funny Shindong could be even when he isn't trying. The other brings a seat over to their table and chats pleasantly with Donghae, and Siwon takes the moment to take in the changes in his best friend.
His face is slightly less pudgy, but the puffy round cheeks Siwon loves so much are fully on display. He has a tiny ponytail sticking straight up from the crown of his fluffy hair, and it reminds Siwon of elementary schoolers on picture day in a way that warms his heart. He notices the suspenders and khakis combination that the other is wearing and remembers how hard it was for Shindong to get used to not having to wear a uniform to school anymore. It seems he finally settled on something that worked for him, as nerdy as it ended up looking. (Somehow, that is endearing, too.)
"Siwon, what's your weekend look like? We should do something, just you and me. Grab some newspapers, eat gyoza, catch up. You in?"
Siwon would like nothing more and almost automatically agrees. Luckily, before he could land himself in hot water with his excitement, his brain supplies that he and Eunhyuk were supposed to picnic in the park this weekend. He flicks his eyes over to his boyfriend, asking without words if he could go.
Eunhyuk nods, so Siwon says yes, and it feels like a piece of him that was asleep finally wakes up.
~~~
They're best friends again in no time.
Sure, there were some awkward instances when Shindong or Siwon would refer to memories that the other wasn't there for in a stilted reminder that there is time lost between them, but they easily catch each other up and fall back into old habits. Their lives intertwine in the seamless way they did back in high school, and Siwon's heart feels so full.
He can't help but ignore the red flags as a result. The more active he and Shindong are in each other's lives, the more he is aware of the fact that Shindong does not know the full extent of his relationship with Eunhyuk; and he admits he has made small—inconsequentially, really—concessions to keep it that way.
He's starting to suspect that Eunhyuk knows something is up, too. It brings him a little bit of guilt, but it's not like he's completely avoiding his boyfriend (been there, done that). Besides, the other hasn't said anything. He even invites Siwon over one weekend, so Siwon figures he probably hasn't messed up too badly yet.
When cuddling on the bed with legs intertwined while watching a movie turns into roaming fingertips and forgotten laptops droning on in the background, Siwon feels content like never before.
"Why does it feel like it's been forever since I kissed you?" he murmurs into Eunhyuk's hair afterwards, planting a kiss right there and embracing his boyfriend closer to his chest. He'd love to fall asleep like this…
But then Eunhyuk gently releases himself from Siwon's hold and sits upright in bed. "I have a feeling it has to do with how Donghee is hanging out with us a lot now," he says as he pulls his clothes back on.
Siwon's disappointment clears when his mind, unbidden, conjures up the memory of Shindong's reaction when he caught Heechul rounding second base with his date when they all went to the movies together one time. "Yeah, Shindong isn't big on PDA," he says as he follows Eunhyuk's lead.
"Sure, but I'm your boyfriend," Eunhyuk emphasises. "Hand-holding, kissing… stuff like that is pretty typical for most couples. He knows what he would be getting into when he hangs out with us, and he still shows up. Doesn't seem to me like it would really bother him."
Siwon's movement falters. So Eunhyuk has noticed. "I guess I'm just trying to be a little courteous," he hurries to say, the not-quite-a-lie sitting heavy on his tongue. "He doesn't know you yet, and I don't want to give my best friend any reason to dislike my boyfriend."
Siwon puts on his most convincing, disarming grin, and it somehow makes things worse. "You know, it's funny," Eunhyuk begins with light tone absolutely lacking in amusement, "Donghee's supposedly your best friend, but I haven't even heard of him before this semester. It's clear he hasn't heard of me either. Wanna explain why?"
Siwon frowns at the accusation. "He is my best friend." He may not have acted like it for a while there, but that fact will never change. It's just… "We weren't really, ah, talking much at around the time you and I met." He wants to stop there, but Eunhyuk raises an expectant eyebrow. "Um, remember that time in the student union? That was, sorta, the first time we had spoken in eight months."
The admission completely melts all of Eunhyuk's cold and angry tension, and the sight makes him even more antsy for some reason. Siwon is acutely aware that he didn't answer the entirety of his boyfriend's question, but the other is already moving on.
"You get why I'm bothered, right?" Eunhyuk asks as he sits back on the bed, and yes, Siwon does finally start to get how bothered the other really is. He's never seen Eunhyuk so despondent before. His entire being radiates tired sadness, and Siwon realises with a pang that he did that to him."This guy that I've never met before just shows up one day, and my boyfriend starts acting completely different around him!" Eunhyuk's pout has a chilling effect on Siwon without the hint of flirtation to which he was so accustomed, and Siwon has him wrapped up in a side-hug as if on autopilot. Eunhyuk happily cuddles into the embrace and lays his head on Siwon's shoulder, but Siwon barely notices, too consumed by the weight spreading all over his body.
He's fucked up.
He hasn't been going about this correctly at all, and it's hurting his boyfriend, and that hurts him, and he's fucked up.
He stands abruptly. "I gotta go."
"What?"
Siwon can barely hear the shocked hurt in his boyfriend's voice, he's so preoccupied with the immense and all-consuming guilt that weighs down his limbs. He can't get out of the apartment fast enough. He needs space; he needs more room so that terrible feeling that is expanding within him has somewhere else to go.
"Siwon, where are you going?!" Eunhyuk hurries after him and manages to intercept Siwon before he could open the door. If he were more himself, he'd chuckle at how his boyfriend, 9 centimetres shorter and 5 kilograms lighter, is trying to bodily prevent him from leaving; but in his state, even a feather could knock Siwon over.
"There's something you're not telling me, and I'm not letting you leave the apartment until you do. What is going on between you and Donghee?" he demands.
"Nothing!" Siwon despairs, and it's the truth.
"Why are you lying to me!"
"I've never lied to you," and that is also the truth.
"But you are keeping something from me." There's nothing Siwon can say to that, so he fidgets where he stands. Eunhyuk laughs mirthlessly. "And it's related to Donghee, too, isn't it? How long did you think you could go without telling me, huh? Did you think I wouldn't notice?!"
Siwon is still in flight mode, his brain is still foggy, so he latches onto the only coherent thought he has just so that he can respond to Eunhyuk. "Why don't you call him Shindong?"
Eunhyuk seizes in incredulous frustration. "Can you focus!? That is so beyond the point!"
Siwon closes his eyes and rubs his hands down his face in resigned acknowledgement. Yes, that was the wrong thing to say. "Hyuk, I'm sorry but… I really, really have to go. I need some time; I need to think. You deserve better than the first thought that pops into my head, but I can't give you that right here, right now."
Eunhyuk's shiny eyes are devastating even under the fluorescent glare of his apartment lights, and Siwon's heart urges him to do something. He steps forward, arms outstretched, but Eunhyuk steps out of his reach. "No, please," he says simply. He hastily wipes away the tears that pool at the rim of his eyes and looks anywhere but at Siwon. "When you touch me, I feel better even when I don't want to."
Siwon lets his arms fall back to his side. The need to leave wars with his need to comfort, so he does nothing.
Eunhyuk sniffles once, twice, then says, "Whenever something happens to me—big or small, bad or good—you've become the first person I wanna tell it to. Nothing feels real until I've told you about it." He hugs himself and turns away. "But you don't even want to talk to me."
Eunhyuk walks back to his room and lightly closes the door behind him, a silent cue for Siwon to leave. When he finally does several moments later, the image of Eunhyuk rejecting his touch replays in his mind, and his heart rebels with every step.
~~~
With time and distance, Siwon realises a lot of things about himself.
He's always wanted his first real relationship to be with someone he shared a lot with, someone he didn't have to force himself to spend time with or get to know, someone who made it all easy yet made the difficult parts worth it. He admits to himself that he always wanted his first real relationship to be with Shindong, but that evidently wasn't possible. Just when he had given up on that dream (and on himself), he found all of it and more in Eunhyuk, who literally showed up unannounced, bribed his way into Siwon's life, and pestered Siwon into letting him stay. Without knowing any of the details and without asking any questions, Eunhyuk managed to shake Siwon out of the depressive episode he was in simply by being himself. The warm excitement that coloured their days together were noted but taken for granted, and the cold emptiness that replaces it in the aftermath of their fight is frighteningly familiar. He regrets that it took the undeniable pain that can only come from heartbreak for him to realise that he had fallen in love with Eunhyuk, but at least he knows now.
He also now knows he's a coward.
He was a coward back in senior year when he couldn't tell Shindong why he asked the other to prom, he was a coward last semester when he cut Shindong out of his life for accidentally breaking his heart, and he's a coward now.
With Shindong is back in his life, Siwon thought he could somehow keep both his past love and his current love in the exact ways he wanted them without having to have any uncomfortable conversations, that the two of them would get along fabulously, and that Siwon's happiness would simply fall into place.
He also now knows he's an idiot.
Siwon has always prided himself on being a man of action. He had enough time and distance to reflect, recalibrate, and reload, so it is time for him to gather his courage and react.
He texts Shindong to do homework together at his place then immediately goes out to buy some food just to have something to do with the nervous energy that buzzes within him. He even buys snacks that he knows only Shindong likes because he needs every advantage he can get. He returns with no less pent-up energy than with which he started, so he sets to cleaning the whole apartment. He even attempts to do his homework to distract himself before he remembers homework is the ruse he told Shindong to lure the other over.
His nervous energy is apparent the second Shindong steps foot in the apartment. "Okay…" Shindong drags out as he plops his stuff onto the kitchen table that doubles as Siwon's desk. "Is there a major exam you're freaking out about or something? I can't promise I know anything, but I can promise to help you study."
Siwon lets a ghost of a smile cross his face, fondly remembering their intense study sessions back in high school that none of their friends were brave enough to join more than once. The memory passes, and he sighs. "No, it's not about class."
Shindong gestures. "Well? Out with it then. You know I'm just gonna leave if you're not gonna focus, and I really don't want to leave when there's an unopened pack of honey apple twists right there."
Honey apple twists are also Eunhyuk's favourite, so Siwon starts there.
"Eunhyuk is a man of questionable taste," Shindong pontificates as he munches on the newly opened snack. "He loves honey apple twists but hates seafood. He's best friends with Donghae but spends all his free time with you. What an enigma."
Siwon tries to chuckle, but it doesn't work. He takes a deep breath instead. He can't think of anything else to say except: "I think he's in love with me."
Shindong stops chewing. "What?"
"I think Eunhyuk and I spend a lot of time together because he's in love with me."
Shindong frowns, brows furrowed and looking genuinely upset. It takes Siwon aback for long enough that he gets distracted. "What?" he parrots.
"Dude, that's fucked up."
"What are you talking ab—"
"You can't just string him along like that! What is he gonna do when he finds out you don't like guys? Bro, if Heechul were here right now—actually, I'm just gonna call him because maybe you need to hear why that's fucked up from someone who gets it."
And there it was.
Every unspoken fear he'd ever had, every answer to his heartbreak, every problem he never solved.
He reaches out with his head down and gently stops Shindong's hand, halfway to dialling their high school friend whom Siwon hasn't spoken to since graduation. "I love him, in any case," he says to the ground.
Shindong lets his hand hold his phone in midair. "What?"
Siwon takes a breath, counts to three, and lifts his head to look Shindong in the eyes. "Shindong, Eunhyuk and I are dating. He's my boyfriend. He has been since the summer."
Shindong says nothing.
"I'm gay," Siwon says at last, so easily, because he knows that's not going to be the hardest confession of the night.
As soon as he says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong's astute, masterful, beautiful mind.
"Is that why I haven't seen you since last semester," Shindong says instead of asks, "because you realised after our kiss and didn't want to tell me."
But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn't provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.
"No," Siwon says as he draws away, clasping his hands tight on his lap and wishing he could have told Eunhyuk he was gonna do this. He'd have said something to cheer Siwon up, and Siwon would remember that now, and it could give him courage. The only thing he has right now is the truth.
"No, that was because I was in love with you, and I realised you'd never love me back, and I needed time."
The silence that stretches out between them is awkward like no silence has ever been, even in the first few times they hung out again after reconnecting.
"For how long?" Shindong finally says.
Siwon tries to remember but finds he can't. It must have been one of those things that wasn't tied to any specific event, but a slow build until the whole of the structure was unmistakable. "Since the beginning, basically," he eventually settles on. "Not since the first day we met, no, but very, very close to it. I barely remember a time when I didn't know you and wasn't already in love with you."
"I see."
He finally looks at Shindong, who notices and meets his gaze for a moment before looking down at the table. In that one moment, Siwon could tell from Shindong's eyes that he can see now. He can tell the way Shindong is re-remembering every interaction they've ever had in a new light, and he simply waits. He has no more cards left to play.
Finally, Shindong looks back at him and says, "You should have told me. We should have talked about it. I could have been there for you."
Siwon smiles bittersweetly and looks away. "But not in the way I wanted you to be, and that's why I never said anything. No doubt, you would have absolutely been there. You would have been your funny, action-oriented, perfect self, within arms' reach but not mine for me to hold, and it would have broken me. Broken me worse than if you had dropped me as a friend completely."
Shindong is taken aback by the strength of Siwon's words, the seriousness with which he said them. "You must have been really in love with me."
Siwon turns the bittersweet smile to him then, tears shining in his eyes, and says, "So much. I loved you so much."
Shindong's heart breaks for his friend, his best friend, who suffered all alone and all on his account. He fiercely tugs Siwon into a hug and lets Siwon cry out every tear, every emotion, every everything from the last two years, all while murmuring "I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry" into his friend's shoulder.
"For what it's worth, I loved you, too. I still do," he says when Siwon's tears subside into sniffles, but the younger is still clinging onto him. Shindong won't let go until he does.
"I know. I know you did, do. Me too," Siwon hiccups out.
With one last squeeze, he pulls away to give Shindong a watery but bright-eyed smile, and Shindong gives him one right back. The clock in the kitchen tells him they were only like that for seven minutes, but in that time it feels like they just relived every day of their entire friendship, finally on the same page.
"I'm in the mood for pizza," he says abruptly, reaching for his phone forgotten on the table. "Do you still like pineapples with yours?"
Siwon chuckles while wiping away some latent tears. "Please, yes. Eunhyuk won't let me eat that around him because 'it's gross American food,'" he says with air quotes.
"Maybe Eunhyuk is a man of taste after all," Shindong says as he waits for the phone to ring. He catches Siwon's eye just to sneer, "What's he doing dating you?"
Siwon laughs, a whole-belly laugh, and gets a second wind when Shindong calmly rattles off Siwon's own credit card number for the payment information.
~~~
It's been almost two weeks since Eunhyuk last spoke to Siwon, the memory of his boyfriend's face as he begged for time haunting his undistracted moments. He's busied himself with dance practice, homework, and even once tried accompanying Donghae to the gym just to get his mind off of how much more lonely he feels. It was pretty bad before when Eunhyuk was convincing himself that the way his boyfriend was pulling away was all in his head, but with confirmation from Siwon himself, it just got so much worse.
Donghee—He's not about to start calling him by that ridiculous nickname. The only thing Donghee is good at, as far as he's concerned, is ruining his mood—first came into the picture like spilled paint across a canvas: completely and all at once where before there was none. He showed up at group hangouts and even tagged along to his and Siwon's casual day dates, sometimes at Siwon's own behest!
Siwon also didn't touch Eunhyuk as much when Donghee was around, which is saying something because Siwon is literally the clingiest man in all of South Korea. To have such a gentle, romantic, constant aspect of his relationship almost completely stop without explanation… Of course Eunhyuk was lonely. The only thing that stopped him from saying something sooner was how undeniably happy Siwon was with Donghee back in his life, and Eunhyuk didn't want to ruin that for him.
But now it seems like their whole relationship is ruined instead, and the idea that this is how it all ends makes him even more miserable.
It is during one of these pessimistic slumps that he gets a text from Siwon that he, Donghae, and Donghee are working on the quad together. Siwon signs it with "I miss you 😘," and Eunhyuk's heart clenches. He misses Siwon too, but he's not really in the mood to watch him and Donghee together.
He realises he's not really in the mood to be alone right now either. He considers texting Donghae to fake some emergency so that he could be with Eunhyuk, but Donghae texts him first. "don't bail i promise."
The fact that Donghae, the only one who happens to know the full extent of Eunhyuk's insecurities and worries about the situation, is the one saying that piques his interest. If Donghae thinks it'll be safe for him, Eunhyuk will trust that.
He sees them before they see him, and it plays out slowly like a movie. They're all sitting in a quasi-circle on the grass in the middle of a laugh. The scene is so picturesque, and the jealous pang in his chest rings loud and true.
He almost turns on his heel right then and there, but Siwon notices him before he can.
Siwon's smile is bright and free, and he makes grabby hands for Eunhyuk like he hasn't in a while. Eunhyuk's feet carry him forward without him telling them to, and he has a feeling that was his heart leading. Despite it all, next to Siwon is where he wants to be.
He settles into the space by Siwon with a little unease, which dissipates completely when Siwon shifts them so that Eunhyuk is between his open legs and Siwon is giving him a cosy backhug. As much as he wants nothing else, Eunhyuk fights the urge to lean in, acutely aware of Donghee's presence.
"Siwon-ah." Eunhyuk squirms. "I'm 'Siwon-ah' now, not 'Siwonnie?'" He can hear Siwon's pout even as the other squeezes Eunhyuk to himself tighter. He puts a little more effort into escaping Siwon's embrace, but Siwon simply uses his legs to lock him in.
Eunhyuk laughs; he can't help it. He wiggles as frantically as possible—not to actually get out of Siwon's hold, just to give him a hard time trying to hold on—and Siwon playfully bites his ear to get him to stop. Eunhyuk lets out a mock gasp, prepared to do something drastic, when all of a sudden they both tumble onto the grass.
Eunhyuk looks up to see Donghee calmly returning to his spot, acting like he did nothing wrong and ignoring how Donghae assaults his back with amusement. "I've wanted to do that for forever!" Donghae cackles.
In embarrassment, he begins to sit up, but Siwon doesn't let him, instead pulling Eunhyuk back down and on top of him. He looks for the reason why in Siwon's eyes, and Siwon just gives him a small smile before leaning up to brush his lips against Eunhyuk's. It was a soft little thing, but it calms him down nevertheless.
He folds his hands on Siwon's chest and rests his head on top of them, facing the side where the other two weren't sitting. "I thought Shindong isn't big on PDA," he repeats, keeping his voice neutral but loud enough for Siwon to hear. In this position, he can hear Siwon's heartbeat as he plays with the collar of Siwon's shirt. He doesn't know what to make of its calm and strong cadence when he knows the other can feel his own heart rate spike in nervousness.
"You're my boyfriend, though," Siwon maintains, echoing their conversation from a week before with the roles noticeably reversed.
Eunhyuk jerks his head up to face the other. He doesn't think Siwon has called him his boyfriend in front of Donghee yet before.
Siwon must see something in his face because he reaches up to hold one of the hands on his chest and squeezes twice. I'm sorry about that, it says. We'll talk about everything later. Eunhyuk nods, looking at Siwon with so much trust in his eyes that Siwon smiles the same wide, happy grin that made Eunhyuk fall for him in the first place.
With a louder voice, Siwon says, "Besides, Shindong's a big guy. He'll find it within him to get over it."
"YA! DID YOU JUST MAKE A FAT JOKE ABOUT ME?!"
Siwon winks at Eunhyuk before sitting them upright and into a more casual cuddle, Eunhyuk against Siwon's side and Siwon's arm across Eunhyuk's shoulder.
Eunhyuk ignores the ensuing banter between Siwon, Shindong, and Donghae, instead looking up to observe his boyfriend. Siwon's different again, but in a good way, he decides. For the first time since they met, Siwon looks completely unburdened, completely secure.
And yet he's still here, holding Eunhyuk to him like he used to, which means whatever Siwon let go of, it wasn't him.
Eunhyuk knows they still have to talk, that there’s a lot of explaining Siwon has to do and a lot of confused pain he has to work through, but he also knows there's time for that now. Siwon isn't going anywhere; and neither is he, for that matter.
He looks over at the other two across the way and muses that Shindong isn't going anywhere either, but he finds that's not such a problem anymore.
(Siwon's laugh breaks his concentration, and he notices that's different, too—better than before, even.)
In fact, he might even welcome it.
~~~
#super junior#super junior fanfiction#shinwon#sihyuk#siwon#shindong#eunhyuk#choi siwon#shin donghee#lee hyukjae#jaso*
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Being Human - Chapter 02
<= Chapter 01
Summary : Snatcher is not having a good time. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/60233137
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Hey hey heeeey, new chapter ! Hope you'll like it !
Also, I never expected so many good reactions, on the first chapter ! Thank you so much everyone, it means a lot to me ! I really hope you'll enjoy this fanfic !
Thank you again for all your likes and reblogs !! I'm so happy if you like this fanfic !
Don’t forget to check out the audio files for this chapter ! - Bow Kid’s Apologies - Hat Kid’s Apologies
The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings !
Happy reading !
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Chapter 2 - “How can any of this be okay? Are you blind?”
Snatcher didn’t really know how long he had been crying. Maybe it was mere minutes, maybe it was hours… The shade wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. The world had just collapsed beneath him, taking him down to a pit of pure despair. He couldn’t help but hope this was just an immense joke, that the kids were just playing with him, but the more time passed… The more unlikely it became.
It was just -oh- so very real. No matter how much he wished to go back to his spectral form, it was just not going to happen.
The ghost’s face was red and his eyes were puffy from all of his cryings. They stung and the feeling of his cold tears on his cheeks was unpleasant. His nose was stuffed and he was forced to breathe through his mouth when he wasn’t even able to swallow his own saliva yet. The overstimulation was killing him: even the littlest thing felt extremely intense for him, making him unable to focus. He could barely hear his own thoughts, buried under all of those terrible and awful sensations. This was just a pure nightmare.
He could feel the kids’ hands rubbing his back gently and carefully as he kept sobbing, unable to stop. Breathing was difficult and he couldn’t hold back some coughs as tears left his eyes. He probably looked so stupid, so pitiful, so… Pathetic. The same reasons he hated his past self which, ironically, had never been so true before, now that he was back in his old body. Why did it have to happen to him, of all people?
The spirit sniffed loudly and, after a while, he didn’t have any more tears to cry. His eyes just stung and he felt a lump in his throat. He slowly lifted his head again, meeting the children’s eyes once more. They were still watching him with worry, with pity.
Snatcher hated those expressions.
-“It’s going to be okay,” said the bow-wearing kid, tilting her head on the side as she tried to reassure him. The ghost, however, was very much not reassured and let a scoff leave his lips. He opened his own mouth to answer, still with difficulty. Moving a tongue he didn’t have earlier the same day was particularly hard.
-“Are you joking, kiddo?” he retorted, with a mix of sarcasm and bitterness in his voice: “How can any of this be okay? Are you blind?”
The older kid punched him lightly in his left shoulder, making him wince at the wave of unwanted sensations hitting him hard:
-“Hey, don’t talk to her like that!” she reprimanded him with a frown: “She’s trying to be helpful!”
In hindsight, the younger child was trying to be helpful, yes. At his remark, the latter had knitted her brow, probably not knowing what to do or what to say after the way he had replied to her. Her older best friend, however, was not happy with that. And, if Snatcher had been in a better state of mind, maybe he would have understood his lack of tact.
Yet, the ghost was not feeling well at all. Nothing mattered to him anymore, not if he had to stay like this.
-“Helpful?” he repeated, furious: “Unless you can make me a ghost again, I’m sorry, but you are not being helpful,” he spat, glaring at the hatted child.
The two kids stared at him, astonished by his attitude. In a way, he had always been mean and hurtful, yet… There was something else, something new, that was much more malicious and cruel in his words. It was not his usual sarcasm, his normal bitterness, no, on the contrary.
His sentences were full of hatred, a point that the kids definitely didn’t miss.
The hatted brat’s face contorted in anger, surely not believing how spiteful he was being to them after the way they tried to comfort him:
-“Are you serious?” she argued, absolutely mad: “You threw the Time Piece! You’re the reason you’re a pecking human again!” she fumed, gesturing to him as she kept going: “You’ve been crying for half an hour and now you’re being like this? Seriously?”
The spirit squinted, not liking her tone at all. She dared raise her voice at him, the powerful soul-stealing ghost? Well, in a way, he wasn’t that powerful anymore, but still. He had killed many people for much less.
-“I don’t want your pity, kid,” he warned, trying to mimic his old threatening voice, though it wasn’t as successful as he hoped: “And I certainly don’t need someone to comfort me.”
Silence fell between the trio. He and the hatted child were looking daggers at each other, waiting for one to glance away or to blink. The younger brat was watching them, not knowing what to do. Eventually, her best friend looked away and crossed her arms:
-“You know what?” she challenged: “Fine. Since you’re doing so well on your own, well, we’ll leave you be!” she declared, very irritated, before turning to the bow-wearing child: “Come on, Bow, let’s go.”
The latter seemed hesitant and glanced between him and her friend, clear remorse showing on her face. But her friend was much too angry to care and insisted: “You heard him very well, he doesn’t need us.”
She then took the younger’s hand, pulling her away from the spirit, and added, darkly: “So let’s go.”
The bow-wearing kid gave him one last look before turning around, following her best friend silently. The ghost watched them go away, clenching his teeth as he was trying his best to straighten up. He heard several of his joints crack from the movement and he grimaced as he did everything he could to ignore how much it disgusted him. God, human bodies were so gross.
Soon, the little girls disappeared from his sight and he was alone again. The shade stared into space as he sighed, exasperated: he didn’t need them. They weren’t going to help him anyway, he might as well try to find a solution to his problem by himself! Yeah, after all, that’s what he had done for all those years, fighting Vanessa all on his own! How hard would it be to occupy a human body for a while? He had to fix this whole situation, the contrary wasn’t an option. No matter how much time it would take him, he was determined to try anything if it meant he would be back to his old self. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice anyway. After all, if he didn’t…
Subcon would freeze again with Vanessa’s magic spreading ice everywhere. Snatcher and his powers were the only reason the forest and the village were safe from her. He had no idea how many days or months he had left until the situation went from bad to catastrophic… It probably depended on Vanessa’s mood and whether she learnt about what had just happened to him or not.
Oh, God, if she ever learnt about this…
The ghost forced this thought out of his mind and shook his head. He regretted the gesture immediately, as it made him nauseous almost instantly. He had the impression someone had just hit him violently on the head with a bat and he couldn’t help but bring his hands to his temples. His fingers massaged the skin, pressing against it as he shut his eyes hard. He shouldn’t have cried earlier, it made the pain so much worse.
Little by little, the shade pulled himself together and attempted to sit up once more. The movement was hard and awkward, since it meant he had to use a lot of muscles and articulations at the same time. Snatcher had possessed many people in the past and had shapeshifted into humanoid forms a lot as well… But controlling an actual body, a living one, one that used to be his own? This was entirely new or, well, something he hadn’t done for centuries. When he tried to move his legs, he realized with horror that they weren’t moving the way he wanted them to. It was just so hard, so confusing, so… Imprecise. His legs were heavy, they were long, and he just knew he wouldn’t be able to stand up. Balance was something very precise and extremely easy to disturb. Snatcher would just be like a baby trying to walk by himself. He groaned at the thought, feeling even more pathetic. Just like he used to be when he was alive… How ironic.
The shade put his hands on the ground and tried to push himself up, clenching his jaw hard as he used all his strength. The movement made him whine in pain and displeasure as he felt the clothes rubbing against his skin, much more than before. He quickly lost his balance and fell back on the grass, feeling even weaker than he already was. He was so miserable.
Rage started to build up inside him again and, with more determination, he attempted to stand up once more. He had to get up, he had to go back to his home: maybe there would be something in his books helping him to go back to normal… Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite pessimistic at the idea: after all, his problem had been caused by a Time Piece and he had never heard of those before… So the probability of finding anything related to it was quite low. Still, this was his only chance, since the brats had claimed they couldn’t help him. The shade let out a bitter scoff: ha, they didn’t even try! Yeah, they were some time and space experts, so what? Those were just words!
The spirit tried to get up again, in vain. He fell on his side and a silent cry left his lips at the shock. It hadn’t been particularly painful, so to speak, but the intensity of all the sensations engulfing him at the same time hit him very hard. He missed not being able to feel anything… Especially when feeling things led him to fall down multiple times.
He remained motionless for a while, trying to find the strength to straighten up once more, ignoring how exhausted he was starting to become. This wasn’t working. Maybe he needed something to help him? A branch or anything else? Snatcher examined his surroundings, looking for something he could use. His eyes fell on a nearby tree, which was large enough for him to hold. Putting most of his pride aside, the shade looked around him to make sure no one would see him, and he started to crawl. As soon as his body began to slide on the ground, Snatcher shut his eyes, loathing how intense his sense of touch was. He could feel the skin of his stomach rubbing against his clothes, he could feel the pressure of his own body to the ground, the feeling of gravity pulling him down… This was pure torture. He dug his fingers into the dirt, trying to pull himself forward. Some dirt stuck itself under his nails and he let another cry out at the sensation. It was awful, so awful, he just wanted it to be over… Why couldn’t this be easier? Why did he have to feel such horrible things? Everything hurt, everything was just so intense, he hated all of this!
The ghost had to stop midway, unable to do it in one go. He took advantage of this little break to breathe, trying his best to calm his heartbeat down. He could sense its pounding in his chest, quick and loud in his ears. When he felt comfortable enough, he kept going, hoping this would soon be over.
When the spirit managed to get to the tree, he approached his hands from it and wrapped his arms around it. His face was stuck on the bark and the contact made him grimace. He tried to get away from it, but he knew he wouldn’t be as stable otherwise. With a lot of unwillingness, the shade forced himself to get closer again and he took a deep breath.
This was now or never.
Digging his nails into the bark, Snatcher pulled himself higher, having trouble moving his legs as he did so. No matter how much he was trying to use them as a way to push himself up, they just slipped under him. Soon, all he could do to stay somewhat stable was to cling on the tree, his nails hurting from how much he was putting pressure on them. For a few seconds, he remained perfectly immobile, not daring to move, stuck in a very embarrassing position. His bottom was turned up, while his upper body was stuck to the bark, his arms around the tree.
This couldn’t be happening. This just couldn’t be happening.
Tentatively, the shade attempted to move his feet again, in order to straighten himself. For a brief moment, he thought it was working, because he did manage to push himself higher against the tree. However, before he was able to do anything more, his feet slipped under him, and he fell down. His chin hit one of the roots of the tree, making him scream from the sudden pain. Snatcher instantly brought his hands to his bruised skin and hold back another scream, only letting out a high and long hum of pain. New tears appeared in the corner of his eyes and, feeling his resolve crumple little by little, he curled up just like before.
He was so pathetic, so miserable… Maybe even more than how he used to be back when he was alive. Somehow, the thought hurt him even more than the previous bump on his chin, much more. Slowly, he started to sob, curling up more and more as his cries became louder. Why was this happening to him? Why? Why, why, why? This wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve any of this!
Everything was just so painful. Moving, breathing, crying… Everything was. He had trouble to breathe, having his nose clogging up again because of his second meltdown. His body began to shake. It was unnoticeable at first, but it quickly evolved in something much more worrying. Who cared? Maybe if he just died again, he would go back at his previous ghostly form!
A sad and bitter smile appeared on his lips: yes, maybe it was the solution. To be back as a ghost, one had to die… Why wouldn’t this time be any different? Maybe if he just let himself to die, everything would go back to normal. At this point, he had no other options… The kids couldn’t help him, he wasn’t able to move by himself, and no one was nearby to help him… His pride absolutely loathed the idea of asking for help, especially with the way he probably looked at the moment, but… This was a very peculiar situation, one that needed exceptions.
It still made him sick just to imagine it.
His sobs increased, echoing all around him in a heavy silence. He was alone, so alone. For a few minutes, he really thought that his plan would work as intended: he would wait for death and come back as a ghost, just like he had planned… But then, he heard quick footsteps approaching him, as if someone was running in his direction. He barely had time to lift his head that a panicked and crying voice rang in his ears, making him wince once more:
-“Sorry, we’re so sorry!” The shade recognized the voice of the bow-wearing kid and, soon enough he felt her hands touching him, as if she was holding him. He jumped at the contact, definitely not used to it. Not long after that, he felt another set of arms hugging him close and tight:
-“Are you okay?” it was the hatted brat. She wasn’t exactly crying but, when Snatcher moved a bit to look at her, guilt was all over her face. She was very close to join her best friend’s cries, her voice trembling when she spoke again: “I’m sorry, I was mad! Bow told me to go back, but I didn’t want to listen! I’m so sorry!”
Snatcher’s surprise and astonishment stopped his sobs, and his eyes glanced between the two kids. He was about to try and push them away, wanting to keep some dignity, but then another voice made him freeze completely.
-“Hey, kids? What are you doing?” it asked, with a confused tone: “Who’s that guy?”
It was a subconite, a few feet away from them. The minion hadn’t caught a good sight of Snatcher’s face yet and thus hadn’t recognized him. The ghost felt the kids freeze just like him, staring at the little being as it was walking closer and closer.
This was going to be so awful.
Snatcher was not ready. He was not ready for this at all. As he heard the subconite getting closer and closer, he pushed his head on the side, shutting his eyes. How was he going to explain any of this? How would his minions react at how pathetic he was right now? He didn’t want to be laughed at, he didn’t want to be pitied at… He wanted to be feared. And, as of now, the ghost would certainly not intimidate anyone, especially with how miserable he was being.
He heard the footsteps stopping next to him and the minion’s voice forced him to come back to reality and to deal with this whole situation.
-“… Boss?” they asked, clear confusion and astonishment audible in their intonation. The ghost felt the kids letting go of him and, if the context was better, he would have felt grateful for that. But at the moment, he was just very nervous and very anxious at the imminent conversation with his minion. Snatcher didn’t want to do that right now, he was already suffering so much because of this stupid body… And now he had to deal with this too?
He didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like, showing himself like this to Moonjumper… He instantly tried to push that thought away, really not wanting to deal with that right now. It was enough at it was currently.
Eventually, the spirit turned his head towards his minion, slowly, very slowly. His body was shaking again, but whether it was out of fear or out of pain, he couldn’t tell. Everything was just so mixed up and his mind wasn’t able to tell what was what anymore. His eyes met the “face” of the little being. The latter made a few steps backwards as his suspicions had been confirmed by seeing the spirit’s face, red and full of tears.
-“It’s… It’s really you,” they murmured, not believing what they were seeing: “What happened?”
Their tone and gestures were full of concern and they got closer again. Any person new to Subcon and its dark atmosphere would have trouble deciphering the emotions showed by the minions, since they had no face to show them directly, but… For Snatcher, it was all very clear. He knew much more about them than what he liked to show. In that particular case, the way the little being was acting, the way they moved, the way they spoke, the way they were fidgeting… Those were all perfectly clear signs for the ghost.
Snatcher frowned, quickly drying his tears on his sleeves. Not that he had much dignity left, anyway.
-“Please don’t tell anyone for now,” he asked, looking at them gravely. He wasn’t presentable and if the other minions saw him like this… They would most likely panic, considering he was their only way of keeping Subcon safe and warm.
The subconite remained motionless, visibly hesitant and perplexed, and a brief silence settled between them. The hatted child was the one to break it, in order to explain what had happened to the clueless servant:
-“He… He broke a Time Piece,” she added, glancing between Snatcher and his minions. Her best friend started to pat his back again, making him wince and move away from the touch. She still put her hand back on him, trying to comfort him. The subconite didn’t miss his refusal for contact and approached the ghost, clearly more worried than before:
-“Are you okay, Boss? Are you hurt?” they questioned, examining the shade’s body, looking for any possible injuries. Well, his chin was bruised, just like his body probably was because of his earlier falls… But pain was just one of the many, many unwanted sensations Snatcher was currently feeling.
-“Of course I am!” he assured, still determined not to look more miserable than he already was. He straightened up, trying very hard not to grimace for the tenth time as he did so. It would be lying to say that he was fine. He definitely was not. Thus, he added, with a low voice: “Well, it’s just… Kind of oversensitive.”
The subconite fell silent for a few seconds, watching the kids still trying to rub his shoulders in order to comfort him. A “look” of realization appeared on their inexistent features and they ran to the kids, snapping their hands away sharply.
-“Stop that!” they scolded, clearly angry, then gestured to the ghost, who was surprised by the sudden movement next to him: “He just said he didn’t like to be touched!”
The kids stepped away, glancing at each other then to the minion, confused.
-“He… He didn’t-” started the bow-wearing kid, not understanding what it was all about. Her older friend looked just the same, not getting what the subconite was trying to say to them. The latter seemed to grow even more irritated at their oblivious attitude. They tilted their head on the side, as if they were rolling their eyes.
-“Can’t you see?!” they rose the tone of their voice, absolutely livid: “The Boss has been dead for years! Dead people can’t feel anything at all! How would you feel if you had to experience sensing things all of a sudden?!”
The kids’ expression crumpled as they seemed to understand what the other was trying to explain. Soon, new tears appeared in their eyes and they started to sob, silently at first, but louder and louder as seconds passed. Snatcher’s eyes widened at the sight and he froze, not knowing what to do or what to say. The sound of their cries rang in the spirit’s head, as if someone was hitting his brain with a bat, repeatedly. He closed his eyes and extended a trembling hand in their direction, ready to do anything so it would just stop:
-“It’s fine, it’s fine! Stop crying, for the love of God!” he pleaded, clenching his teeth and holding his head with his free hand. But apparently, it was the wrong thing to do, as the little girls began to cry louder, apologizing:
-“We’re sorry, Snatcher!” stuttered the hatted brat, sniffing loudly. Her younger friend was sobbing even louder, covering her face with her hands. The ghost could hear the latter’s voice through her fingers, with an intonation full of guilt:
-“I’m sorry for touching you!” she sputtered, her shoulders moving up and down as she continued crying: “I didn’t think it would hurt you!”
The shade couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, as the voice of the little girls were killing him. He felt like he was about to faint if it continued any longer. However, he heard the minion shushing them and a wave of relief engulfed him.
-“Shhh, shhh!” they reprimanded the kids, putting his finger in front of his cloak, as if he had a mouth: “You’re making it worse!”
This seemed to be enough to calm the children down and the spirit heard them trying to hold back their sobs. Snatcher’s head felt much better, not hearing the high-pitched voice of the two brats crying so loudly. Little by little, the shade reopened his eyes and gave a weak nod to his minion, thanking him for his intervention. The little being gave him a thumb up with his mitten-like hand:
-“Anytime, Boss.”
The shade took a deep breath and looked at their surroundings. No one had seemed to notice them yet, which was a good thing. It would only bring even more trouble… Next to the subconite, the little girls stood silently, drying up their tears on their sleeves. Just like him, their faces were red and puffy, their nose clogged up as well. At least, they were being calm, now… It was still something.
-“Okay… Okay,” he said to himself, trying to pull himself together. Then, he turned to the trio in front of him: “I might find a cure to this if I manage to go to my tree,” he explained, voice full of determination.
The bow-wearing kid frowned and interjected with visible worry on her face:
-“But are you…” she was hesitant to continue and gestured to his legs, wincing. The hatted brat finished her sentence for her, less afraid of hurting his feelings, apparently:
-“Can you even walk?”
Snatcher couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that question. He knew very well that walking on his own would be completely impossible, considering how he wasn’t even able to move his legs correctly. Each time he tried to use them, they just moved differently than what he was trying to do. Standing up with those wouldn’t work.
He had quite a few proofs of that earlier.
He knitted his brow, absolutely loathing the very idea of pronouncing his next words:
-“Not on my own,” he admitted, fighting his pride as much as possible as he kept going, still very much decided: “But you’re going to help me to walk.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Welp, things are going to get quite complicated, hehehehe. Hope you've liked this chapter and that you'll enjoy the next ones as well !
Take care, everyone !
=> Chapter 03
#A Hat In Time#ahit#being human#BH#hat kid#bow kid#snatcher#fanfiction#doodledrawsthings#oth#oh the humanity au
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Heng:garæ album review
01 Fearless
The melody makes me actually feel FEARLESS. Though that’s a very... ambiguous description... LOVED that they reused the line from Fear to show that they are overcoming their fears and becoming fearless. Amazing.
You know nothing lasts forever But you still can’t end this
02 Left & Right
Love it so much. It makes me so happy and smiley!!! Coupled with the music video, I really can't stop smiling listening to it. It’s so catchy and the message is so important! It’s about empowering and encouraging youths to pursue their dreams.
Don’t forget when you’re at the starting line Keep your eyes wide open and your chin up
03 I Wish
It’s nice and peaceful, the melody is more lighthearted than I expected. I especially love the moments between verses whereby it’s only the music playing, it sounds like I’m in a nice restaurant with jazzy music. BUT the lyrics are so heavy...
I blamed myself, who was lacking, all day long I look at myself, who is left staring blankly alone Because I was overflowing with countless emotions As if nothing is wrong What a very painful night
04 My My
Goes without saying: My My is an amazing bside. Even Knets were impressed by how much effort they put into their bsides. When I close my eyes and listen to this song, I feel like I’m on an adventure. I feel free. This will be the perfect song to listen to on a road trip... driving along the coast as the sun rises... Plus the bridge of this song is perfection.
Row your dreams beyond the parallel lines Times of happiness fill the pockets of our hearts
05 Kidult
Loved this song the moment I heard it. It’s oddly... sentimental...? And the VOCAL RUNS in this song are indescribably magical. Love emotional songs like this :(
After I brush it off with a smile like and adult I cry like a child too We resemble each other, we are together Just as you are Like a kidult
06 Together
My favourite track on this EP. It’s like an anime opening theme song!!! Together is really Run to you’s less intense sibling. This is quality music. Especially the chorus... our main vocals really worked hard :) And it’s a nice, wholesome, positive ending to the whole album, and ties up the whole message of our youth having confidence in the decisions they make and being hopeful.
In front of us is dark, too dark Wanna take your heart’s compass out?
Overall
Overall, I really love this album. Seventeen really doesn’t disappoint... The lyrics for all the songs are absolutely beautiful. Our lyricists use such appropriate metaphors to convey emotion :)
Please give Heng:garæ lots of love, and steam the music videos and vote for our boys so that we can reward their hard work with music show wins! Let’s not have Fear era all over again... they DESERVE the awards, and we know that more than anyone else. So what's left is for us to put in the effort to give them the awards they deserve ♡
#seventeen#kpop#heng:garæ#henggarae#svt#scoups#seungcheol#jeonghan#joshua#jun#hoshi#wonwoo#woozi#minghao#mingyu#dokyeom#seungkwan#vernon#dino
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Designing Your Melody: Chapter 11 - Cupid’s Arrow
Chapter 01 - Chapter 10
“Today’s the day,” Marinette uttered nervously, pressing a hand against her churning stomach in a fruitless attempt to untie the knots her insides were tied in. Her nerves were stretched to the limit, ready to snap. She gazed up at the building where her fashion show would take place in a few short hours. She wasn’t ready to go inside. Not until her knees stopped trembling, at least.
She’d been a quivering mess since she woke up this morning. The countless hours of work had all led up to this moment. This was the goal she’d been working toward all these years. Every drop of blood, each drip of sweat, every single sleepless night spent hunched over her sewing machine had been for this chance to showcase her talents and hopefully catch the eye of a famous fashion house that would want to take her on as a designer.
Hands shaking, she gripped the strap of her purse in a futile attempt to steady them.
When a warm arm suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, she shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin. Spinning in place to view her attacker, she lost her balance and nearly fell over.
“Easy there, Marinette,” Adrien chuckled, hands gripping her arms to keep her on her feet. He gazed at her as she inhaled deeply, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. “Are you going to be okay?”
Stepping back out of his personal space, she closed her eyes and counted to three, opening them once again to observe her friend.
He’d grown into a truly handsome man. His shining blond hair was artfully styled into deceptively careless disarray, a few wayward strands falling over his brow and into his vivid green eyes. Mouth pulled into a devious smirk, she heard him continue to laugh at her clumsiness. She pouted a bit at how truly handsome he was. It wasn’t fair for someone to be so damn good-looking.
“I’m fine,” she bit, annoyed that he had once again caught her unravelling at the seams. “I’m just a little nervous.”
He laughed. “A little? When I touched you, you nearly came out of your skin.”
“You just startled me, is all.”
Once more, Adrien chuckled softly at her. “You’ll do great. The hard part is already over. Now,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders once more, encouraging her to go inside with him, “let’s do this, Marinette.”
Gathering her courage, she held her head high and stepped inside.
-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-
“Mlle. DuPain-Cheng, music starts in twenty minutes,” the producer – a severe-looking woman with auburn hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun - informed her, clipboard firmly in her hand. “Are your models ready?”
Glancing behind her at her friends, she smiled and nodded her head. She had just finished helping Juleka dress in her first outfit: a tunic length purple sweater with a wide cowl neck that exposed Juleka’s slender shoulders and black floral print leggings. Completing the ensemble was a pair of knee-high platform boots.
Adrien stood next to her looking absolutely dashing in a deep green, v-neck t-shirt, a casual pin-striped blazer emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. Dark washed jeans and white sneakers completed his look. If she had seen him in an outfit like this when she had still been infatuated with him, she would have gushed about how the color of his shirt perfectly matched his eyes and how the blazer drew attention to his perfect butt…
But she wasn’t still infatuated with him, so she’d keep those thoughts to herself, she mused.
“You guys look amazing,” she said happily. “Thank you so much for helping me today, guys. I really appreciate it.”
Juleka smiled softly and said, “No, Marinette, thank you for giving me an opportunity to walk down the catwalk. You’re helping me as much as I’m helping you. I even asked my brother to come today so he could see me model in your show. He was so proud of me when I told him I was going to be modelling during Fashion Week and it’s all thanks to you.. With as much attention as you’re sure to get with your fabulous clothes, I’ll get to shine along side you as your model.” She giggled softly as she cocked her hip out. “With clothes as cute as these, there’s no way they’re not going to love you.”
“She’s right, you know.” Adrien reached over and rested his elbow on Juleka’s shoulder, grinning at her. “You’re going to be a smash hit, my Lady. You’re not alone here. Alya is covering your show for her blog, Nino’s up in the DJ booth cuing up the music as we speak, and don’t forget your parents out in the audience. We’re all here for you and we’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks, guys.” Reassured from her friends’ kind words, she shook her head and focused on the task at hand.
-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-
In the audience, Luka was waiting patiently for the show to begin. Looking around, he saw a few familiar faces, which put him at ease. Across the room, up in the DJ booth, Nino had his headphones on, jamming out the music only he could hear as he got his set list ready for the show. Wondering at the small world he lived in, he spotted Alya Cesaire, Nino’s girlfriend, sitting in the front row, taking pictures with her cell phone and excitedly tapping away on the screen. Must be doing a story on Fashion Week for her blog, he thought. He’d run into her a few times when he and Nino had collaborated together on a project.
Personally, he was excited to see his sister in her first fashion show. Really was proud of how much she’s grown in the past few years. When she had first told him she wanted to be a model, he supported her dream whole-heartedly, but worried whether someone as introverted as she could make it in such a cut-throat business.
His worries had been unnecessary. She had proved all who doubted her wrong and had been steadily finding work doing magazine ads and even appearing on a few billboards recently. But nothing could compare to this. Even though it was for an unknown designer, being able to put that she’d modeled in a Fashion week show would open a lot of doors for her modeling career and he wished nothing but the best for his beloved sister. He’d be there to watch over her, after all.
When the lights dimmed, he sat up, eyes focused on the raised catwalk and waited to see his sister. Techno music pounded through the once silent room, increasing the energy level in the room with is solid base beat.
Behind a screen at the entrance of the stage, he saw a feminine silhouette appear, striking a sassy pose with her hip cocked and her hand behind her head. His mouth gaped as he watched his sister - his shy, mild mannered sister – strut down the lane, hair billowing behind her and her eyes on fire. He could barely recognize his sibling in this fierce woman posing at the end of the walk, showcasing the outfit she was wearing.
When she disappeared backstage, the screen illuminated again, this time outlining a male model. His eyes widened when he recognized the man from advertisements plastered with his face all over the city. It was Adrien Agreste, the face of his father’s internationally branded fashion line. Screams erupted in the room as the audience recognized the handsome model strutting down the catwalk with the grace and intensity of a panther.
The designer responsible for this show was very smart to use him for their show, he decided. Come morning, their designs would be plastered all over social media and possibly even the news now that Adrien Agreste was the one wearing them. And his sister would be piggy-backing on top of that fame, launching her own career into possible fame.
Once the blond model retreated backstage to prepare his next outfit, Luka watched as his sister once again took the stage, wearing a completely different ensemble. How they changed her entire look in less than two minutes was absolutely astounding. It must be pure chaos behind the scenes, he mused.
However, his amusement faded as he continued to watch the show. With each ensemble that was shown, his eyes narrowed further. He recognized some of these clothes. He’d seen them taped to the wall when he’d delivered that fabric to his designer.
It’s impossible, he thought to himself. There’s no way such coincidences exist.
Still denying the possibility that the girl he’d been looking for for so long was the one who was responsible for the show that his sister was modeling in, his jaw dropped when Adrien walked out in his final look: the embroidered blazer that Luka had seen hanging on the mannequin.
Suspicions confirmed, he grinned, disbelieving his luck. Now, he wouldn’t have to try to track her down. He found her without even knowing he’d done it. Even better, his sister already knew his elusive designer and could introduce her to him after the show.
He whistled under his breath when he saw the show’s final piece. Juleka came out dressed in a gorgeous dress. The strapless top shimmered with beads under the bright stage lights. A silver-buckled black satin belt transitioned into a full skirt. The outer layer of black satin contrasted beautifully with the deep purple satin lining, visible due to the front of the skirt ending at Juleka’s thighs and the back cascading down to the floor. Opaque black stockings covered her exposed legs and protected the modesty of his sister, which he was secretly grateful for.
She gracefully walked to the end of the catwalk where Adrien was waiting for her. With a final pose, the two models leaned into each other with wide smiles in response to the roaring applause thundering through the room. turning toward the entrance of the stage, they waved, gesturing for someone to join them.
Tearing his eyes away from his stunning sister, his breath caught when the designer stepped on stage. He could almost hear the twang as he felt a punch in the gut, like he’d been shot by Cupid’s arrow.
She was petite and slender, her limbs willowy and graceful as she joined her models. Her dark hair shined blue under the lights, pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck with a few tendrils escaping to caress her neck. Her bright, blue eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stood proudly next to her designs. Pink lips stretched into a grin as she reached her hands out to either side of her and took her companion’s hands. With a final smile at the audience, the trio bowed, thanked the audience for their praise, and escaped backstage.
Luka was stunned. How on earth had he missed how pretty she was when she crashed into him that first day? In his defense, she had been in such a hurry and so he hadn’t had the chance to get a good look at her, but had he really been so oblivious?
Unable to wait another minute to finally meet his elusive muse – and congratulate his sister on a job well done – he rose from his seat and made his way back stage, eager to be introduced to the blue-eyed beauty responsible for the music pounding in his head.
-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-
Chapter 12
*OMG, It’s almost time! He knows! Aaaaah! Hahaha, sorry. I’m just really excited for these two to get some time together in the same room. Next time, I promise! But things aren’t going to go so easily for them once they do meet face-to-face mwahahaha!
Once again, thanks for taking the time to read this and give me your likes and reblogs. Leave me a reply about what you like, what you don’t like, and what you’d like to see. Your feedback gives me fuel to better myself and my writing.
Until next time, my lovelies, XOXO*
@write-for-your-life2
#lukanette#lukanette february#mlvalentines2k20#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#marinette dupain cheng#luka couffaine#lukanette fic#lukanette fanfiction#miraculous fanfic
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✨Hyperfixations✨
Hello!
If you’ve seen previous posts from this blog, you might already know that I’m autistic; It’s not something I hide because I don’t see the point in doing so. I’m putting this disclaimer here so people don’t come for me and try and call me out for whatever reason.
I’ve had many fixations through the course of my life, as I’ve gotten older the way they develop and the impact they have had definitely changed. In my early teens I was dealing with a myriad of other mental health issues alongside these fixations. However, at the time we didn’t realise that that’s what they were because I was only diagnosed when I was 14. It’s important to note that I was dealing with other issues, as those issues consumed a huge amount of energy and so I never realised how truly draining hyperfixations are. It’s only now that I’m fairly level with my other issues that I have seen the full effect of a hyperfixation. I always put my lack of concentration and the exhaustion down to the anxiety and depression, but it’s become clear that they weren’t the only factors.
I joked in a couple of posts that Temples were becoming a new fixation for me, but oh boy... It has hit hard. It has completely knocked me off kilter. For the last 3 or 4 weeks (maybe longer) it has been almost unbearable, all I can think about is the band and it’s incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything else. Even when I manage to focus on something else, if someone says something that fires something in my mind then I’m just out for the next half an hour. I’ll be trying to do physics revision, I’ll be looking at Milikan’s oil drop experiment, I’ll see the word “Atomised” and then I’m off thinking about ‘Atomise’ and suddenly it’s been 2 hours.
It’s just so frustrating because I’ve never experienced a fixation in this way before, it’s so intense and I just want it to stop. I know that I shouldn’t get so annoyed with myself over it, but it gets in the way so much for me. When my mental health deteriorates and I can’t work or concentrate I find it easier to accept because I know that when my brain is in puddle mode that doing anything complicated just isn’t viable. The people around me also recognize this. With this fixation, I’m finding it hard to justify why I can’t do anything. I just can’t get myself to view it as “valid” because my brain certainly isn’t in puddle mode, it’s very active in fact, so I understand why I can’t shift that energy to be productive. It’s much harder to explain too and the people around me are less understanding. I’ll be honest, I don’t blame them for not understanding - heck, I barely understand it myself at times - how can I expect them to understand something they’ve never experienced and never will? It’s been a nightmare trying to keep up with college work, and I can feel myself beginning to burn out because of it, I feel like I can’t let myself fall behind because the reason doesn’t feel “valid” to me. I can’t exactly go to my tech teacher and say “Hi miss, sorry I didn’t do any of my assignments or coursework this week, I’ve been thinking about a band.” - granted, there’s more to it than that but at a basic, bare-bones level that is what I’d be saying. To someone who doesn’t live in my autistic little mind, that sounds like the most ridiculous excuse imaginable.
It’s hard to explain that it’s not voluntary in a lot of ways, it just happens whether I like it or not. It’s getting to a point where it’s impeding on my ability to function normally. I can’t sleep properly because I can’t get my brain to shutdown and stop thinking about them, or the music, or whatever else. I get distracted from work, from daily activities like cooking and cleaning, even hobbies are getting neglected unless they’re related to the fixation. I’d been learning ‘Clare De Lune’ on piano but that’s been sidelined for ‘Certainty’, any guitar parts I’d been learning and writing have just been ignored because I just can’t concentrate on them, but I can with Temples riffs. The only times I’m not thinking about them is when I’m sleeping and when I’m worrying about other things (intrusive thoughts kinda worries), even then I’ll occasionally start worrying about Temples. Example: “Does Tom remember my brother heckling him last year? He probably does, and he hates me.” - that’s a bit of a side point but one I thought I’d mention anyway.
To an outsider, I will just look like an obsessed fangirl and if you want to think that of me then go for it, if this post doesn’t change your mind then I’m not going to convince you otherwise. I wouldn’t compare this to a fangirl experience, because usually those experiences are enjoyed by the girl in question. With this, I spend a lot of time wishing I wasn’t like this. I spent months fighting it off when I could feel it starting. I’m not saying it makes me completely miserable because with a hyperfixation does come happiness and excitement, it’s part and parcel of it, but in between those times I hate it.
I have had very complex feelings around fixations in the past and the same rings true with this one. It seems to be hard to grasp for neurotypical people that we do NOT choose to fixate on the things we fixate on. For me this stirs a lot of anxiety because of the obsessive nature of a hyperfixation. My last few have centered on real people, such as bands or YouTubers, and I always feel awful about it because it feels creepy. I would never actually stalk these people, but the amount of content I consume and the energy that goes into it all just feels like too much even though there’s not much I can do to stop it. I can take away the media but that wouldn’t stop me thinking about it. I’ve experienced a lot of ostracisation from past friends because they found my fixations weird or annoying, and that feeling of rejection got internalized and I can’t stop myself from thinking that I’m weird because of it. I know for the people around me, it probably does get boring that I only talk about one think for hours at a time and it’s only in the last couple of years that I’ve found friends who take the time to let me talk about my thing without getting annoyed or taunting me. Even with a supportive network, I still find it hard to get out of the mindset that fixating on real people feels wrong.
I’ve had this complaint for years, but recently I’ve seen more and more people misuse the term “hyperfixation” and it’s really been bothering me. It seems to be the new ✨cute, quirky thing✨ to say that “X, Y, Z is my hyperfixation!” when in reality the person saying this probably just really likes X, Y, Z. I get so frustrated because they don’t realise just how tiring they can be, how they don’t always make a person happy, and how they actually make us feel. Not to mention the fact that when too many people say it in the wrong context *Context by Temples starts playing* the word starts to lose it’s meaning. This only makes it harder to explain to people “no, I don’t just really like this thing, it literally consumes my whole life, I’m so tired, please make it stop!”.
This has been sitting in my drafts for a couple of days and I wasn’t sure if I should post it or not but after talking about some of this stuff with a friend, we decided that maybe I should. I won’t be tagging this under Temples because it doesn’t feel right.
~ Love Ginger xx
19/01/2021
#personal✨#actuallyautistic#actually autistic#autism#autistic#hyperfixiating#hyperfixation#rant#long reads#being autistic#actually neurodiverse#autism spectrum
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FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 11
Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.
Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | Crossposted to AO3
All-in-all, Darok was not gone at all that long. Just a few minutes if that.
Maybe he went to the refresher, Theron thought to himself sarcastically. Just couldn’t hold it another minute.
By the time the colonel returned, Theron had busied himself back at the terminal. He caught the movement in the reflection of the monitor and made a mental note of the time. It hadn’t been enough to make more than a quick call, although the question of to who remained. Most of the comm traffic going in and out of Carrick Station was either monitored or secured. If it had been on official channels, there would be a log of it somewhere. Another item for Theron’s ever expanding to-do list once he had the freedom to begin his investigation.
That would be soon.
Not long after Darok had made his reappearance, they’d gotten word from the team on the ground that the battle had been won. Tython was theirs again, but it had come at a high cost. There was cleanup work to be done — major cleanup work. It would take months to repair or rebuild what the bombings had destroyed. To say nothing of the fatalities they were currently tallying.
That uncomfortable feeling in Theron’s chest was trying to settle back in, and he still didn’t have the time nor energy to spend on it. Part of Theron wished he had an unobstructed view of the temple from the armorcams of Darok’s men, but he still wanted to keep a low profile. From his position, he could only catch glimpses of what was mostly wreckage. Unless he went and joined Darok at the holotable, there was no chance he could look at any of the faces of the dead. Perhaps that was for the best. Outside of Hashimuut, Theron hadn’t spent much time among large groups of Jedi. It had mostly just Master Zho and him. Easier to focus on the larger picture if he didn’t try to individual faces. Or maybe just one face in particular. But he wasn’t thinking about that right now.
Instead he busied himself with sorting through the data that Teeseven fed him. The rest of Highwind’s team had been put to work with the rescue crews, and the little faithful astromech had begun the long arduous process of sifting through the wreckage to try and salvage what was left of the temple’s security footage and data.
If there was anything to salvage at all. Theron pursed his lips, seeing the fragments of code he would have to sort through later. Piecing together exactly what had happened was going to be a massive undertaking.
That left one last wildcard in this situation: Highwind herself.
Apparently she had ordered Bickell and his men to keep all of the prisoners secured until a team of SIS agents could begin questioning them. Theron found it interesting that she was attempting to direct the investigation work over to his branch rather than leave any interrogation to SpecOps. Perhaps that meant she trusted Theron more than Darok with this. The colonel himself had only grunted with just the barest amount of disgruntlement at the announcement, as if the fate of the prisoners on the ground didn’t matter to him at all. Like he’d already gotten what he wanted.
Theron was still musing on that, and the other little mysteries surrounding his asset when she strode in with all of the force (and Force) of a Jedi to be reckoned with. Her strides were measured and deliberate, setting a quick pace that made her cape billow behind her as she once again commanded the attention of the entire room. Perhaps it was in the stern set of her jaw, or the way her attention zeroed in on Darok. Maybe it was just something in her eyes, a dangerous glint that a less observant person might pick up on. Whatever it was, Theron was almost glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of her attention at the moment. Maybe that was the look that Doc had kept mentioning.
“Master Jedi, good to see you,” Darok said smoothly, standing up to his full height. “Our forces are sweeping the rest of the muck off of Tython as we speak.”
That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, as her brows drew down into an unhappy expression. Yeah, no. Theron wasn’t saving Darok from whatever storm was brewing in the Jedi’s intense gaze. In fact, he would’ve broken out the bangcorn if he’d had any on hand.
“Tell me, Colonel, this muck you speak of. Are you referring to the devastation wrought upon my temple? Or perhaps the people we’ve taken prisoner?”
Darok’s lips pressed into a thin line as his wide shoulders raised up in indignation. He apparently did not like being called out on his behavior. Not that it was the first time that Theron had heard that sort of comment from the military. He was pretty sure that not even the Jedi were so perfect as to keep that sort of sentiment tamped down completely.
For all his bluster, the colonel seemed smart enough to not fall into the trap of clarifying his comment, and instead just snorted out a breath before forcing a grim smile onto his face. “You will be glad to hear that reconstruction crews are already being prepped.”
“That is good news,” she said evenly. “It sounds like you have been busy over here.”
“The Jedi homeworld coming under attack tends to garner a lot of attention from Republic command,” he agreed. “The Imps caught us by surprise, but it could have been a lot worse. Thanks in no small part to your leadership.”
The flattery seemed to fall on deaf ears as Highwind just crossed her arms, fixing the larger man with that same intense stare. “I have been meditating as you suggested, Colonel.”
Confusion stole across Darok’s face, as he tried to recall whenever he’d made that sort of suggestion. “I don’t—”
“You said that after we recovered Tython that I should meditate on the coincidences of today. I spent my time on the journey here doing just that.”
“Have you now?”
“Yes, on the timing of our attack and the Empire’s. They must have happened almost simultaneously. That is a remarkable coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Maybe you’re right,” Darok rumbled. “For them to launch an assault of this magnitude speaks of a robust intelligence network. Perhaps Imperial Intelligence isn’t quite as devastated as we have been led to believe. I am sure the SIS will determine how we managed to miss so many red flags.”
It was a comment designed to rile Theron. Another mark of a con. Keep the targets off balance. Keep them emotional. Nice try, but he wasn’t falling for it. That said, it didn’t take much to lace a good amount of anger and indignation into his tone. “Yes. We’ll get right on that.”
Highwind’s gaze briefly flicked away from Darok to study Theron, but the action was too quick for him to decipher it.
“All the same,” Darok continued on, “your work has been exemplary — gaining us two back-to-back victories. You are a hero and that deserves recognition.”
“A Jedi does not need to seek recognition. The act of doing what is right is enough.” Stars, she sounded like a recruitment pamphlet. Well. If the Jedi had recruitment pamphlets.
The colonel didn’t seem to hear her, as he pulled out a box that had been delivered during her return flight and held it out as if for inspection. She eyed the box with the same amount of skepticism that Theron had on its arrival, but her lack of enthusiasm didn’t make an impact on the show that Darok was putting on. Without another word, he opened it up to reveal a glinting, ornate medal.
The medal was just shiny and distracting enough that neither of them were paying close enough attention to see Theron’s startled reaction at its appearance. Had that been what Darok had disappeared off to take care of? No. It couldn’t have been. That had happened before Tython had been successfully recovered. That would have meant Darok would have had to arrange for the medal before there was a victory to award it for. Or… or perhaps that was Darok’s cover story. Come to think of it, there hadn’t been any mention of the teams that had remained behind on Korriban. Had they made it out safely? And if they hadn’t, why hadn’t Darok brought it up? Why was he so focused on branding today as a day of victory?
If Theron voiced his thoughts aloud they would sound utterly paranoid. This whole thing would sound paranoid. But no… there was something here. Theron would need to comb through whatever communication logs he could get his hands on to verify.
“This is the medal of valor. One of the Republic’s most prestigious commendations.” Perfect. She could hang it up next her Cross of Glory and whatever other trinkets she’d collected over the course of her overly heroic career. “The Chancellor herself wanted me to present this to you. She was truly impressed with your heroic actions today, just as I am. Congratulations.”
One dark blonde brow arched high as she glanced between Darok and his offering. The colonel continued to hold out the medal and its rather ornate box, and as the moment began to stretch out, the more awkwardness and tension built. Finally, she blew out a breath and accepted the box, shutting the lid without giving its contents a second look.
“My crew, Bickell, and the rest of your men deserve just as much recognition for their work on Tython,” she said, managing to sound almost diplomatic. “Perhaps more.”
“They do,” Darok agreed, “but your name is the one that lights up the HoloNet. Especially considering this particular commendation has never been awarded as quick before.”
A flicker of that shadow appeared in her eyes again, before she successfully smoothed her expression back into that Jedi placidity. “I am more interested in speaking of what happened today than the headline that will lead on RNN tonight.”
“It’s hard to leave an operation,” he rumbled, “we’ve all been there. But your part in this is done now. You should focus on your victory and all the rewards that come with it.”
“I do not need a medal,” she said firmly, “what I need are answers. We need to find the person responsible for what happened today and bring them to justice.”
“We have all of the information you gathered,” Darok’s smooth, complimentary tone began to harden. “I’m sure we’ll be able to identify them soon enough.”
“There’s also the matter of a Sith lord that I spoke to on the holo in the Council’s chambers. I told Bickell about it,” she continued on, as if she hadn’t heard the shift in tone. “Before the Sith realized I was not his compatriot he was talking about a package that had been secured.”
“Maybe they just took the opportunity to grab a few things,” the colonel, his words coming out in a tight clip.
“We need to identify who this Sith is and what he wants. He said something about—”
Now that she was on a roll, Highwind kept going as if she needed to be heard. As she did so, Darok’s frown settled in deeper and deeper. The large man’s shoulders bunched up, big meaty fists settling on his hips while his lips pressed together in a line.
For all of her keen observations and quick thinking in the field, right now Highwind was like a Sibian hound that had caught a scent. So fixated on her goal, the Jedi wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings and appeared to be almost oblivious to the danger practically tingling in the air. Nor did she seem to notice that with each protest she uttered the more predatory the colonel’s expression became. He didn’t seem to like questions.
Theron took several steps back so that he was out of Darok’s line of sight, before he keyed his subvocal mic. “Stop.”
That seemed to take her off guard, and for a moment she looked like she was about to bring attention to the subterfuge. Her protest ended in a lurch as he gaze strayed over Darok’s shoulder to Theron. He didn’t say anything else, just caught her eye and shook his head ever so slowly. They couldn’t talk here.
She pursed her lips together, that Jedi calm driven away as her temper flared in a way that Theron had not expected at all. Then again, she kept finding new ways to surprise him. This was just one more to the tally. Thankfully, though, she relented in pressing on in her line of questioning. Frustration evident, she let out an annoyed sigh before turning her attention back to Darok. He was still eyeing her with a sharp intensity that made Theron’s skin crawl.
“I apologize, Colonel, perhaps you are right,” she said tersely, as if it cost her something to say it. “I suppose that there might be some good to be found in today. I should meditate on that further.”
“That is most wise, Master Highwind,” Darok rumbled, continuing to eye her for several long moments. “I have my own work to do. I’ve been tasked with organizing the Tython cleanup.”
She tipped her head to him in acknowledgement. “I see, that is quite the task. I should not keep you from it.”
“I need to let the Jedi Council know the Republic is behind them. Let them know this is not like Coruscant. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned back to the holotable, completely dismissing the remaining two people in the room as if they weren’t even there.
The tension that had filled the room seemed to dissipate with the action, and Theron quietly let out a breath. He would definitely be adding “stubborn and bullheaded” as a note to Highwind’s file, just as a warning to any future handler. Maybe put in a warning or two about her propensity to take dangerous risks. She was still glaring at the colonel’s back with undisguised suspicion at this point.
“I don’t know about you,” he said, managing to pulling her attention away, “but I need that drink.”
He was eager to leave this damn room and put some distance between them and Darok, so Theron didn’t even wait to see if she followed. He just made a beeline for the bar. If she was as quick on the uptake as she seemed, she’d get the hint.
#swtor fanfiction#theron shan x jedi knight#Theron Shan#Female Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython#oc: greyias highwind#otp: adorkable#smoke and mirrors#SoR Fic O Doom#swtor#fanfic#greyfic
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Translation of the interview with Mapi Leon (Part 1: minutes 9:30 to 18:50)
- We have gone to Barcelona to get into the changing room and meet one of the players in that changing room who best knows Atletico de Madrid, as she played there not long ago. And that player is Mapi Leon. Hello Mapi!
Hello
- How are you facing this visit to Atletico de Madrid, are you all doing it a bit more relaxed keeping in mind what has come before with the result of the first game, the amount of goals you scored, the results Atletico has had lately, the results that you guys have had lately. Are you all a bit more relaxed or...
No
- ... you’re not lowering the bar in the slightest
No, no, no, not at all, not at all. [laughs] You already knew that I was going to say that.
- Yeah I knew that was going to be the case
No, not at all. I mean, maybe people might think that as there’s more distance [points wise in the table] then although we say we’re not lowering the intensity we must be even if it’s a bit. But not at all, that is to say um we arrived at a very similar situation last season, well we were i think 6 points away when we played at the Wanda and if we lost we’d be 9 away. And in the end, being the ones that are behind in the league, it’s everything or nothing. There is a lot of league left, I mean even if we hypothetically win this match it doesn’t mean that they would be completely defeated, at the end of the day there are still a lot of matches left and and we have to fight for them all until the league is over. But because of exactly that they are going to be, I imagine, extra motivated like we will be. Playing against Atletico de Madrid is always a great game...
- There’s no doubt about that
There are no more words to explain it because in the end they have been taking the title for three years now. I mean, they have had some really great years these past few seasons and now its true that they have been having a bad streak but that doesn’t take away from the fact- well and they’ve also changed coach, the players have to win their spots, they have to work a lot.. and it is true that maybe they might not have a coach that doesn’t have as many days in the job as one who has been there longer would have but it is true that they are also going to be very motivated as it will be a new trainer and they will have to demonstrate that they deserve to play.
- in these days before the match, you who have played for Atletico de Madrid, do you talk to anyone who used to be your teammates? Do you exchange messages with then or in these situations does a footballer prefer to not talk with them- even if they’re friends like of course some of them are- is it best to not talk with them before facing each other?
Well, I’d imagine that it depends on what each person prefers to do but with me its true that I’m a bit careless with this kind of thing. [Presenter laughs] no its true its true i’m a bit careless. Well, I, maybe.. well no. Anyways I was talking to Angela not long ago as it was her birthday but I texted her about her birthday and little else. In these matches I individually also like to focus on the game and even when you get to the pitch I prefer to avoid meeting other people
- Yes so that the out of football life doesn’t affect the game
Yeah. Then after the game well you stay- well depending on the result you fancy staying to talk more or less. But I prefer to stay focused and then after the game whatever. But in the moment of the game and just beforehand I prefer to be only thinking about the match.
- You’re going into the match with some amazing stats Mapi. Talking about you, you are part of the defense and they have scored 6 goals against you in the Primera Iberdrola so far. I don’t know how to talk about this... my question would be, do you get bored this season in Barca where balls don’t seem to even reach the defensive line
It’s true that there are matches in which we do less but that is also due to the merit of the people up front who press very well, when they lose the ball they try to get it back fast, and all that. In the end we are also very clear about the way we play, how we like to be in possession, and if we can have the ball in their half then even better. It is also clear that we take risks and that those little inconveniences that maybe they’ll be a lot of pitch behind us etc etc. But anyways I think so far this year- I mean obviously we have mistakes and it’s normal but we work so that there’s as few as possible and because of that, as we have so few goals scored against us I am happy. But even those few goals bother me and they bother me a lot.
- And then there are 65 goals in favour, its an insane stat. I don’t know whether this has been seen before in a Primera Iberdrola because it’s win after win by a wide margin. In few matches have you guys scored fewer than three goals, even the defenders are scoring. What’s missing is your goal..
I know
- ...That I wonder where its gone, when it will arrive
It’s got lost somewhere
- But how do you view the winning streak in the changing rooms like jenni who has become the best goalscorer in the big European leagues, she’s the one who scores most goals. She scores them like churros [an idiom]. I don’t know whether this gets talked about between you all, if jenni talks about how on form she is at the moment. What does it feel like knowing that you have so much security with the people up front what with Oshoala, Hansen... there’s a lot of them. But I think right now, jenni is living one of her best moments.
To be honest, it doesn’t get talked about. But not because of anything in particular
- Because she normalises right saying yeah this is normal
Yes well no, in the end she scores them and obviously some of us work so that they don’t score on us and others work so that we can score. Jenni is a spectacular player, she is really good. She has an impressive skill and well I hope it lasts and this year balls are hitting the back of the net that maybe last year wouldn’t. I don’t know whether this is because of working the game better, maturity of all the team as a whole. Last year maybe there were matches that the ball got stuck and wouldn’t go in however this year, so far, everything is going well. I mean, we’re scoring so I really hope it stays this way.
- Why has Barça changed so much Mapi? We’ve been saying for lot of years, a lot of seasons that ‘this year barça will win the league, this year barça has the best squad in this history of women’s football in spain. But this year finally we are seeing that barça that we’d been waiting for for so many years. There will obviously be matches that are harder and there will be more balance between the teams but what has changed? Is maybe jenni the player who last year may have been missing from barça and that gave Atleti the final edge to win the title? What do you think has changed for barca to be such a steamroller this year this year whilst in previous years the team struggled so much?
My personal opinion... I mean in the end you also think because of things you hear or see and think ‘oh look this is interesting. It’s true that when a team, either male or female, has been so successful and has won a lot of titles in many cases it then has a slump. Its a slump because they’ve been winning for such a long time that its pretty normal that a team then has a lower period. And this is also affected by players moving around, obviously everything has a process, you also have to take into account the stability of both coach and players... At the end of the day, regardless of how good they are they also have to bring into balance the type of play, the methodology of being a barca team. I also included myself here, when I came from Atleti there were a lot of things that changed. So sometimes all of that is a process, and only when all of it connects and comes together then it starts going your way. So I’d say that’s the main thing: we have matured as a team, we work during the games as hard as we can, maybe before we were more nervous... I think now we have grown, together. The new players who have come are, like always, very good players and they have come to really add something to the team which is great. So yeah, so far everything has been going on the right track. But we also have to work so that it stays this way as of course if we let our guards down now then that would be a mistake, it would mean starting to go backwards again and that’s the last thing that we should be doing.
#hearing the cope radio intro at the beginning reminded me of home#does all of this make grammatical sense? no#but speech never does anyways#hmu though if there's still something you don't understand#i don't even have the patience to proof read so sorry about any mistakes#my translation#mapi leon#mapi león#fc barcelona femeni#fcb femeni#atletico madrid femenino#atletico de madrid femenino#og
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