#also slipped an eva reference in there

[evita-shelby]

12 Days of Smuff: Day 9

Day 9:Sharing a drink + toys

Tommy x Eva as decided by my poll

Cw: female masturbation, ye olde vibrators of 1928(first electrical one!), accidental orgasm denial, reference of a sex related death inthe season 3 Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries ,Death and Hysteria

It had been a long day.

With the holidays around the corner, Tommy was running himself ragged making sure there was a Birmingham to come back to after they returned from their holiday.

Today was his last day at his office in London and he intended to enjoy a quiet evening at home with his darling wife and three children.

He hadn’t been home all week, Eva had visited him in London while doing some last minute shopping and the gangster turned politician intended to make up for lost time.

The children were in school, his family away at their own homes and as far as anyone knows he was in 10 Downing Street as usual.

Perfect opportunity to surprise his wife.

He hears a strange whirring sound he assumes is a cleaning appliance as comes nearer and then he hears it.

Yes, a perfect opportunity, Tommy tells himself when he smells the incense burning in her sitting room downstairs and takes his Christmas whiskey with him down the hall.

Quiet moans and his name as she gets closer and closer to orgasm. She’s gotten bolder, his witch may be into fucking where they could get caught but never where the maids can hear them.

Especially when she’s pleasuring herself.

Did she think the appliance would cover the noise of her fucking herself at the thought of him?

The appliance also makes the lights flicker in the hall and the library, he’d have someone check the electrical again. Some of his constituents had lost their building when someone introduced their fancy new toaster to their kitchen.

But enough of that, rose incense was what she always burned when she wanted to fuck. Had she anticipated his early return?

Perhaps she had and was waiting for him to come and join her.

“Aren’t you afraid Santa’s going to put you on the naughty list, love?” Tom asks entering the witch’s sanctuary that smells wonderfully of sex and rose incense.

She’s spread with her knees drawn and her slip bunched around her stomach as she holds a personal massager she saw on a catalog to her pussy and plays with her tits with her free hand.

It’s a sight to come home to even if he dislikes the idea of having a fucking toy involved on their sex life.

He can claim it was a matter personal safety, but in truth he hated the idea that a piece of metal with a rubber handle could easily take his place in her bed.

What if I get lonely when you’re away? The witch had asked when he tried to stop her from buying it in London.

Use your hands like you’ve always done, woman, he had answered only for her not to listen and buy it anyways.

She is about to cum, he can tell by the way she shuts her eyes and her words turn to barely coherent babbles. Tommy hates to admit it is a well-made object as she only sounds like that when he fucks her, and regular fucking is the secret to his wife’s youthful glow.

Not that she is old, she is only 32, but the way she talks about her age you’d think she was approaching ninety.

He doesn’t notice the wire extending from the socket to the couch as he comes to join her at the loveseat moved closer to it. Well he doesn’t notice it until he trips over it and the toy flies off her hand and dies on the floor along with all the lights in the house.

“Jesus, fuck, Tommy!” Eva can barely manage to look at him having been so cruelly interrupted. “You could’ve killed me!”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Tom offers her the whiskey as he kicks the broken massager out of his way and joins her on the couch. “Naughty witch, gonna cost me an arm and a leg to get the wiring fixed before Christmas.”

“You like it when I’m naughty, besides I told you we needed it fixed when the hairdryer blew that fuse weeks ago.” She drinks while he makes himself comfortable. The fright and the interrupted climax needed it more than he did.

“We agreed to get it done this week when we’ll be going to visit your kin in Florida because you’re tired of the cold.” He reminds her as they go back to being Mr. And Mrs. Shelby who’ve been married for eight years and six months. “You were explicitly told not to plug shit in too many things at once, and I explicitly told you I don’t like you sticking electric appliances in your cunny. Remember the woman who died in Australia, Evie?

What would I tell the children when they ask how their mother died? That she fucked herself to death?”

“Oh, yes, that would look great on my obituary, Tommy.” Eva jokes and gives him a look that has him roll his eyes at her.

Of course, how could he forget that the toy left her ready to explode.

He’ll make it up to her later, when the repairmen leave and she sees how expensive her little toy was.

He should deny her relief, as punishment, and he does. “Naughty girl’s don’t get to cum.”

[rebelspektrum]

GUARDIAN FILE - Maja Lundström (Template by mozindale on Tumblr) Long post ahead!

Guardians name: Maja Lundström

Age: 29 when she died/Centuries old since her first ressurection

Race: Human

Call signs/alias: Moon, Firefly

Pronouns: She/her

Class: Titan

Preferred subclass(es): Solar, Strand

Ghost's name: Little Sunshine

Their Vanguard: Saint-14 (formerly), Zavala

Fireteam name: Flame-chasers

Fireteam teammates: Atawhai "Sucell" Kerehoma (at times, Fireteam "we slipped" consisting of Sentry "The Bat", Taka-6 and Ashen-2. Other rotating teammates are Concord-11 and Entropy-1.)

Favorite legendary weapon: Seventh Seraph CQC-12

Favorite exotic weapon: Duality

Favorite exotic armor: Pyrogale Gauntlets/Wishful Ignorance

Favorite ornament armor set: Kabr's suit

Favorite weapon ornament: Whaler's Whim

What stats do they focus on: Resilience and Strength

Are they offense, defence, or support: Offense

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range: Close range (will sometimes prefer long range if using bows/scout rifles)

Do they lean more "Element of Surprise" or "Upfront and Aggressive": Upfront and Aggressive; leads to premature deaths but also triumphant victories. Due to her size, can play around with his and surprise enemies who expect a hunter and not a Titan.

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible: Crucible (to hone her skills and spend time with the Crucible Handler)

Who was their mentor: Upon waking up, a guardian named Atawhai had protected her Ghost from Fallen and vowed to help the Ghost's guardian no matter what. He taught her the ropes of being a good solar wielder along with the other Sunbreakers.

What ship do they have: A Vector-class ship called Imprint

What is their Sparrow: Bitter Poison

Favorite Ghost shell: Captaincy Shell

Favorite shader: Cinderchar and Veist Fieldscale

Favorite color: Green

Favorite food: Anything involving desserts

Favorite piece of Pre-Collapse tech: ???

Favorite Pre-Collapse music(if they've heard any): Drum & Bass

Favorite place in The Last City: The old Hangar

Favorite NPC(s): Eva Levante, Saint-14, Shaxx and Efrideet

Favorite patrol location: EDZ

5 things your Guardian likes:

- Music, especially Piano (She can still play it) - Patrols, just being outside the City's walls - Her custom forged Hammer (Atawhai made it) - Sparring with her fellow Titans - Swimming

Least favorite food: Anything spicy

Least favorite shader: Skitchpaint

Least favorite patrol location: Nessus

Least favorite Pre-Collapse tech: ???

Least favorite NPC(s): Felwinter

Least favorite weapon ornament: Sand and Sun (Traveler's chosen)

Least favorite ornament armor set: Tangled Web Suit

Least favorite legendary weapon: Irukandji

Least favorite exotic weapon: Parasite (she hates the worm ammo)

Least favorite exotic armor: Arbor Warden

5 things your Guardian dislikes:

- Jokes on her accent (being bilingual) - Close-minded people - Tea - Dumb pranks - Dishonesty

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like: A very basic studio situated in the walls. It's very cheap and consists of a small kitchenette, a simple bathroom with a toilet, a sink and a bath/shower and a bedroom with a single bed. There's a rather big window that allows her to see the Last City. She often naps on the couch near said window.

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?: Yes (see references pics on refsheet.net)

What hobbies and/or skills does you Guardian have: Surprisingly talented with piano and singing, a hobby she hasn't much practiced before getting access to a musical hall in the Last City (thanks to some civilians she aided). Maja's also a rather skilled mechanic and sometimes likes to hang with Amanda when she needs to clear her mind off of things.

What would your Guardian's lore book be called: The Moon and the lion

Where was your Guardian reborn?: Found by her Ghost somewhere in nothern Europe, Maja was first reborn from the light in an old military hospital. Something must have gone terribly wrong considering all the skeletons found within the facility.

What were they wearing when they were reborn: She had a bulletproof vest with a massive hole near her heart location, military trousers and boots. Her vest was so torn she had to abandon it. Her hair had remnant of teal in it, her brown roots showing up.

What was their reaction to being reborn: Fear and anger. Had Atawhai not been there, she likely would have hurt Little Sunshine. The Ghost doesn't hold it against her, but like to tease her about it when the occasion comes.

What was their reaction to their first rez: She threw up bile. Happened after training with Atawhai (she mismanaged her grenade).

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles: Friendlies. Quickly learned that other lightbearers might not be as friendly as her mentor and friend and thus distrusted everyone they met.

Who was the first other Guardian they met?: As said earlier, Athawai.

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found: An hospital plastic bracelet. Her name was somewhat intact, her birthdate only showing the day and month.

Going back to your Guardian's lore book, what would be some some quotes or passages from their book: "People always think of me as weaker. I think they forget that no matter my size, I remain a Titan. Ever seen a Hunter fly?" "Sometimes, I regret not having been the one to have a final death. So many have died and I feel powerless. But then I remember that... No matter what, if I'm still there, that means I have to keep fighting to protect the City."

Does your Guardian have a significant other: It's complicated. (Mr Crucible Handler and this fierce titan have their ups and downs) She hasn't truly set her heart in a place, her long life having seen too many go.

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to: Since she was rezzed during the middle of the Dark Ages, Atawhai showed her a lot of places.

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City: Maja and Atawhai came back to the Last City when the walls were mostly built. They did help before regaining the wilds and exploring more in the search of possible civilians to escort/save.

Is your Guardian a part of a clan: No Clan

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be: For a bow: "Funny how when you fire with a bow, it's elegant and silent, but when you get hit, it's like a whole tree fell on you." | For a shotgun: "Being up close and personal like that... Just don't get your hopes up."

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians (The Last City/The Farm), Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rogue Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords(if your Guardian is an Old Light) tell us about it!: During the Dark Ages, Atawhai, part of the Sunbreak order, had cordial relations with the Iron Lords. They both kept their distance but wouldn't mind helping them if needed. They also happened to have accidentally crossed on Shaxx's territory more than once, earning them a few deaths, but never a permanent one. Atahwai thinks it amused Shaxx in a way to see Maja getting so riled up all the time.

Does your Guardian have any unconventional allies or connections(By Vanguard standards): At the time, yes. Maja had connections with some Eliksni's from the House of Devils after helping one of theirs from a certain death from one of the less savory guardians. This earned them to be able to cross some places without being harmed.

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis: Maja is scared of Stasis, not trusting herself with those powers.

Did they run The Last Wish raid? How did they react to seeing a live Ahamkara a.k.a Riven: Maja was around during the Great Hunt. She was heartbroken that these creatures were murdered due to guardians/people using the power of the Wish dragon to do wrong. She however understood why it happened, but never wants to tell tales about it.

Did they run The Deep Stone Crypt raid? How did they react to the Crypt and seeing Exo Eliskni: -

Is your Guardian from D1? How did they react to seeing Taniks alive once again:[Insert string of swedish swear words from how upset she was]

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War: Tried to help civilians escape as much as she could to the Farm. Almost got herself killed in the process trying to save a dad and his daughter while boarding Atawhai's ship. Had to recover for a while.

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them(These are only a handful of characters!)>>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled: She has troubles wrapping her head around him. However, she deeply respect him, no matter how excentric he is

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm: Feels awfully sorry for her. Impressed by her.

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard: Finds him very irritable, but is a bit envious of his ability to defuse situations most of the time. His death came like a crashing wave, especially when she heard that it was Sentry who brought back Cayde's body.

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard: Often talks with her when they have a bit of time, usually around a cup of coffee. Seeks her when she tries to figure her emotions out.

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard: Shows respect to him, they've always remained on strictly cordial and professional terms.

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard: Absolutely adores the Titan. When he first disappeared, she cried a lot, mourning a friend. Upon the news of him returning to the Tower after Traveler knows how long, was one of the first to greet him with the biggest Titan hug she could make.

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords: Dislikes him for his choices at Twilight Gap. Still shows him respect.

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone: Has a strange relationship with the Warlord. Infatuated with him and wishes for more but their duties come first. Sometimes will spar with him, or just share a drink or two. Extremely admirative of him, she tries to outdo herself in the Crucible just to hear his praise on comms (and is often banned for the week for terrorizing the new lights due to it.)

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider: Doesn't really interact much with him. Learned from Sentry about who he was and feels sorry for him.

The Spider, The Shore's Only Law, founder of "House" Spider: Would fight if she could.

Uldren Sov, Prince of the Reef, Master of Crows: Didn't like his antics at all.

Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef, Queen of the Awoken, Ex-Kell of Wolves: Respects her and will do duties if guardians are needed on the Reef. Curious about her. Learning about her and Shaxx's "affair" had her envious.

Variks, the Loyal, founder of House Judgement: No real interaction with him.

Mithrax, the Forsaken, Kell of Light, founder of House Light: Adores the Eliksni, taught him a few human things and will chase anyone teaching him anything wrong.

The Exo Stranger/Elizabeth "Elsie" Bray, Granddaughter of Clovis I and Sister to Ana Bray: Mysterious lady but likes her, especially since she's trying to save her sister in a way. At first, she was very suspicious of her due to her being a Bray.

Empress Caiatl of the Cabal Imperial Empire: Huge admiration on the Cabal Empress. Sparred with her and had great fun.

Taniks the Scarred, the Perfected, the Abomination, the Shadow Thief: Despises the fucker for killing Andal Brask. Can't believe he's not dead yet.

The Darkness is fast approaching. How is your Guardian handling it: Not too well. She is extremely anxious, especially since the Final Shape is upon them, but she will fight. Even if it means she'll draw her last breath. Little Sunshine is on board with it too.

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights: "Don't judge a book by its cover. I can toss a Hunter flying across Twilight Gap like no other."

[puckhq]

― PERSONAL

Name: Noah Theodore Puckerman

Nickname(s): Puck, Puckzilla (if you're nasty 😏)

Age: Thirty-Two (32)

Birthday: August 9, 2024

Gender: Cisman, He/Him/His

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height and build: 6 ft 2 in/188 cm + Athletic and Lean

Place of birth: Wilmington, North Carolina, USA

Place of residence: Los Angeles, California, USA

Type of residence: Single Family Home (the he built)

Extrovert/Introvert: Extrovert

Optimist/Pessimist: Optimist

Illnesses or disabilities: PTSD, Depression, undiagnosed ADHD

― PHYSICAL

Eye color: brown

Hair colou: dark brown/black

Hair length: short tapered side with a little length on top

Memorable physical features: all of his features are memorable, have you seen him? but also his freckles and some notable scars

Posture: stands tal, has good posture overall

Clothing and accessories: everyday wear he's in jeans and a t-shirt or athleisure, wears tennis shoes or tims and loves a good fitted baseball cap usually worn backwards for work he has to wear a suit and non slip dress shoes and no matter what he's got his star of David necklace on other accessories his apple watch, sometimes diamond stud earrings and a gold chain necklace and a gold chain bracelet

Glasses?: no

Tattoos: one over his heart for Maya that he got at 17 with her baby hand print and her birthday 06.02.09 underneath

Piercings: has his ears pierced but doesn't usually have any studs in unless it's a special occasion

Reference: optional reference photo

― FAMILY

Mother: Nora Puckerman

Relationship: He is his mother's pride and joy and his mom is his favorite person. Now, she is the first one to call him out on his shit but she does it with so much love and compassion so it's okay. She has always been loving and supportive and patient with him. Their relationship is and has always been rock solid. To this day, she's about the only person Puck will talk to when he's just not fucking okay. Maybe she's not perfect but she the exact right person to be Puck's mom and he loves her more than anything, except Maya.

Father: Gabriel Puckerman

Relationship: To say that Gabe and Puck's relationship is rocky would be a fucking understatement. When Puck was a kid, up until he was about ten years old, his father was his hero, he wanted to be him when he grew up. Use to sing and play guitar, was even pretty good at it. But eventually he got old enough to realize his father wasn't a good person. For his whole life, Puck's been Gabe's verbal punching bag. Yet, to this day, Puck is the only person willing to help Gabe out of a tough spot. Long story short, it's a fucked up relationship.

Parent relationship: Divorced

Birth order: first born (as far as he knows)

Child's Name: Maya Ruth Puckerman

Age: fifteen (15)

Relationship: They have a very good relationship. Puck, even at sixteen years old, was adamant about making his daughter his number one priority and that has remained true. He knows he's not perfect, he did everything he could to give his kid a good life and she seems well adjusted. He makes as much time for her as he can, although these days she'd rather hang out with pretty much anyone else. But they're still close and Puck has never and will never, love anyone more.

Sibling #1: Jake Puckerman ( @puckjake )

Age: almost twenty-six (26)

Relationship: Even though they only recently found each other, they have quickly adopted each other as family. They get along really well and Jake is Maya's new favorite person, which Puck definitely isn't jealous about. But they quickly regarded each other as family and trust one another. It's sweet and precious and Puck loves being a big brother.

― RELATIONSHIPS

Relationship status: in a semi complicated situationship with Eva Anderson ( @anderseva ) and Morgan Weston ( @morgan-weston )

Notable past romantic relationship(s): Santana Lopez ( @psusantana ) - she is the mother of his child they didnt date so much as have a week of fuckery when they were sixteen and Avery Dunn ( @averydunn ) - they dated for a bit when Puck was stationed in Louisiana, but Puck fucked it up and cheated on her

Sexual history: Zach Wilde ( @zachwilde ) - friends with benefits for the last nine months

Best friend(s): Cooper Anderson ( @actorcooper ) and his mom

Friends: Delilah Rose ( @rose-delilah ), Maeve Flynn-Abrams ( @ltcdrmaeveflynnabrams ) and Penny Sylvester ( @pennysylvester )

Antagonist(s): does Gabe count?

Roommate(s): Just Maya and also kinda Jake atp

― EDUCATION & CAREER

Past college education: none

Current education: A freshman at PSU, Fire Science Major

Past job(s): House/pool cleaner & construction - worked these in high school, Marines - enlisted at 18 was honorably discharged at 30

Current job/career: Security at PSU

Wanted job/career: Firefighter

― FAVORITES

Favorite band/musician: Queen, Kendrick Lamar, OutKast/Andre 3000 ( rap, rnb, classic rock )

Favorite color: Orange

Favorite season: Summer

Favorite scent: the way a space smells after you bae anything with cinnamon in it and the smell of whoever he's in love with

Favorite food: carne asada fries, poke, pot roast and a good ole burger

Favorite drink: water and sugar free redbull and $0.99 Arizonia drinks

Favorite movie: Fast Five, but the whole fast and furious franchise inclusing Hobbs and Shaw

Favorite TV show: Ginny & Georgia, The Have and the Have Nots and New Girl

[thehmn]

I’m going to spoil the shit of the book now so consider this your warning if you plan on reading it.

As expected the moral of the story is “no sex or gender should be below another” but it’s the first story of its kind I’ve seen where the author use trans people to make their point.

I said earlier that testosterone treatment isn’t an option for the trans men but late in the story it’s strongly implied they have illegal access to both estrogen and testosterone. They provide a trans girl with estrogen and her mother laments that she can no longer tap her for testosterone because the Man Women would pay a pretty penny for it.

If you read the book don’t expect proper terminology to be used for trans people. The author clearly has experience with trans people in our world and is trying to write them into a world where men are seen as not quite animals but definitely not real humans either. That’s why trans men are called Man Women and several characters say “but they’re not REAL men” It’s a mix of characters wanting to acknowledge their humanity because only women are real humans, but also as a way to justify the system. If men are violent creatures that can’t be allowed to walk free in a civilized society but trans men who pump themselves full of testosterone are safe then surely they can’t be REAL men. And yet the trans man Lars who has the biggest silicone penis in the district and the broadest shoulders is the kindest person in the story who provides several characters with both emotional and material goods via his sex work. He never calls himself a Man Woman but simply “someone with a silicone dick” and after losing his ability to breastfeed babies after a few months in prison he decides to not maintain his breasts anymore, commit to a more masculine look.

The system generally doesn’t allow for trans women to exist because if a child is born with a penis they’re immediately sent to one of the centers where they won’t even be taught to talk. But one trans girl slipped through the cracks because her mother managed to hide her by leaving Norway and moving to Denmark where nobody would know she even existed. Her situation isn’t as clear as the trans men because for her it was either a sex change or captivity, but the book never refers to her with anything other than female pronouns and she never laments the loss of her penis. She too is used to make a point. If men and women are really that different then how could nobody tell she was born with a penis? Basically “if the sexes/genders so different then why trans people exist?” (or “We have differences but they aren’t big enough for trans people not to exist”) It really wants to hammer home that it’s insane to divide men and women into boxes because we are all human and all capable of love and harm.

Besides that it has a bunch of interesting little details. In this future depictions of Jesus on the cross is used to scare men at the centers and remind them what happens to them out in the real world. Also apple slices are handed out a Christian ceremonies in memory of Eva. Snakes are considered symbols of femininity and one of the witches has a huge snake that only thrive on eating male snakes, however she eventually realize the snake doesn’t have to eat males, it just need male blood, symbolizing the need for the feminine and masculine to exist together.

It’s also fantasy-light. Magic is subtle but real. The main witch bake love cakes for Lars that actually works though in a way subtle way. His customers don’t fall head over heels in love with him but the cakes make them want to use his services more often. The Christian priest keeps plants around her bed and notice that they grow better when she has good sex. Another character is a stone cold skeptic but has the ability to understand plants (so much in fact that she hates eating plants and has an almost exclusively meat based diet) and has telepathic connections with dogs without realizing it.

Maren Uthaug’s books are always full of colorful characters and bizarre situations so I’m sure it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I’d highly recommend 11% if this sounds interesting to you.

I’m currently listening to Maren Uthaug’s book 11% about a world where most men have died. I should probably wait until I’ve finished the book but I’m so fascinated by the world building.

As of now it’s still unclear why the men died but when the story takes place there’s a mix of older women who fucking hates men and young women who have only met drugged up men at “breeding centers” and imagine “males” as violent boogeymen but otherwise don’t really care and just want to live in the new seemingly perfect society their grandmothers fought for. The only people who still fight for men’s rights are witches who believe masculine energies are as natural and Of Nature as feminine energies, but even they sound more like animal rights activists, standing outside breeding centers with signs every Friday. Their most provocative sign is a picture of a man with Human written on it.

Christianity has been completely transformed and is now run by priests (they don’t call themselves priestess) who can only hold ceremonies when they have their periods and snakes are their most sacred symbol because they gave knowledge to Eva and God is called The Mother.

Trans men exist but are referred to as Man Women and they all seem to be sex workers who have functional silicone penises, though I’m not far enough into the story to know if they have other jobs. They generally also still have breasts because working as a wet nurse is another source of income for them. Testosterone treatments is not an option because it would make them too masculine and dangerous to be allowed into society but they all have male names and everyone use male pronouns for them.

A really fascinating aspect of the world is how people want to get rid of the old “patriarchal architecture” of straight lines and boxes but refuse to tear it down with machines, instead insisting on letting Mother Nature reclaim it. Only Rat Girls are actively trying to destroy the old buildings by releasing hoards of rats into them and planting bamboo to break up the concrete. New buildings have round shapes and are build in ways that make them blend in with cultivated nature and inside they’re painting in beautiful colors with no hard edges. They sound a lot like colorful hobbit homes. Also, locks are considered uncivilized and of a time when violent men roamed the earth and made life unsafe so nothing, from front doors to bathrooms, have locks. For a while after most men died women would go for Night Walks to relish in the fact that they no longer had to be afraid, though they liked to visit the witches at night because it felt a little spooky, which the witches thought was good fun.

The story is naturally about a middle aged witch who is hiding a young boy illegally and gets milk from one of the trans men in the red district while also sleeping with a Christian priest who struggles with her sacred job because her periods are irregular.

I’ll come back with follow up thoughts once I’ve finished it. Unlike what you might think, Maren Uthau isn’t a scary man hater. I’ve listened to most of her other books and this isn’t a recurring trope so clearly she has something to say specifically with this story and it’s rated pretty highly by both male and female readers. I think I’m in for quite the ride.

[h-techsafetyshoes007]

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[3d10fire-damage]

Colors That Run Highlights 37

where beast?

Back in Kiran! Preparations for the Harvest Festival were in full swing, with people of all ages bustling around. As the group made their way through town toward the temple, some of the local farm animals seemed unnerved by Fea, while Slim and Calypso seemed to make them feel a bit more at ease.

Eva considered splitting off from the group to get started on her teleportation circle, but was convinced to put it off until later. Bree made a joke about the teleportation circle being like the DMV, which makes it seem much worse than it probably is. And jury’s still out on whether or not Kattie and Eva slept together in Aegis...

Once at Kiran’s temple, the group was greeted by Calypso’s mom Zoroe. Calypso asked if it was cool to smoke inside the temple, Zoroe said no, so Calypso nudged Slim and told him not to smoke in there. The priestess brought out some snacks and drinks for the party, and was quite proud and excited to learn that Calypso had taken some levels in cleric and could heal now. Calypso even demonstrated some of her spells, namely that she’s able to heal Fea. Slim was rather amused/endeared that Calypso had another mother figure that he hadn’t known of previously.

Zoroe mentioned that she and Andraya had taken bets on whether Calypso would stick exclusively to monk training; she also mentioned that she and Andraya had been writing to each other on a monthly basis since Zoroe left the monastery (like 20 years ago). 👀 (Kattie privately discerns that those two are mostly likely in fact 👀.)

Calypso referred to Zoroe as a “square” much to the confusion of the rest of the group. See, a square is like a nerd, but not necessarily in an intellectual way--

There was more discussion about how Calypso made out with Leawei to obtain her clerical magic because that dream sequence is the gift that keeps on giving. Slim spent some quality time with the monument to Jediah, and Fea was rather fascinated by the huge stained glass windows of the Cordias pantheon that decorated the temple-- she can actually see them. Kattie and Eva flirted(?) over snacks because Eva apparently struggles to do self care. 👀 Meanwhile Egg ate snacks until he was actually the shape of an egg. Truly the best of us.

Shortly the group were introduced to Kiran’s leader, Declan White, who was a pretty man with a rather distinct manner of speaking. Valor abruptly pivoted back into a “boy mood” which Calypso snickered about with Fea. Declan explained what the group would be doing during the festival the following evening, namely protecting the city should anything try to interfere with the transporting of the harvest. Kattie attempted to sorta wingwoman for Valor, but it didn’t work.

Fea asked Zoroe if the party could stay at the temple overnight, which Zoroe allowed. But first the party set out to get lit and do some stupid shit. Namely: cow tipping, as suggested by Slim. Valor, Fea, and Eva decide not to participate, but Slim showed ‘em all the ropes, and both Calypso and Kattie tip their own cows with flying colors (Calypso even nat 20′d and did a flip on hers for no reason).

Fea commented that Calypso would surely have a hangover in the morning, which Calypso insistently denied. She wasn’t even that drunk, and performed a successful but slightly shaky back flip to prove it. But then when she attempted a second one, she nat 1′d and fell flat on her ass. God bless. On the way back to the temple, Kattie and Slim fell into song with their respective instruments. Slim kept slipping into his Spanish lyrics.

In the morning, (most of) the party awoke to nasty hangovers. Slim used his Boy on Cow ability to ease his own condition, which led to him getting griped at by Kattie. He healed her as well before slinking off to his coffee. Zoroe again advertised the temple’s service that would be held around noon, which Slim, Fea, and Calypso opted to attend. Valor headed out to get cleaned up and presentable (and to window shop) for like three hours.

Zoroe led the service, speaking of Jediah and Rissund, most closely associated with Kiran’s Harvest Festival. She made some sort of analogy about planting and foster the growth of seeds. It was a good service because Zoroe is good 🥺

Once it was night (a full moon, mind you), the party split up, taking up watch at the north, south, east, and west cardinal points of Kiran. At the north, Valor was attacked by a wereboar who refused to answer her questions of motive. She and Sven defeated the beast, who afterward reverted into a man with brown hair and a beard. Valor stabilized him with Goodberry, the best spell.

Similarly, in the south, Fea was attacked by a weretiger, though the beast got a bit more of a jump on her since she couldn’t spot them until they were right on her, basically. Fea however refused to fight back with her blades, so she wrestled the weretiger to the ground and held them there.

At the west, Slim and Kattie discussed crafting a little guitar for Liz, the pixie they had met near Marstis until they were attacked by a werewolf. Between Kattie’s powerful attacks and Slim’s lasso and a nice pistol whip (Kattie said Calypso was rubbing off on him), they subdued the creature, who also reverted into a man, this time a red-headed elf. Afterward Slim teleported via shadows with Xio to check in on Calypso, who told him that nothing had happened there in the east all night.

However, after a while a positively gigantic bear appeared, walking toward Kiran without any hesitation. Slim realized this was no standard bear, and after some questioning and placing himself between the bear and the city, the bear actually spoke (magically).

The two of them allowed this bear to pass, and with each step she took, freshly grown grasses were forming. Rissund herself, god of agriculture. Once she was gone from sight, Slim was sweating loudly about the encounter, and Calypso was less impressed, as per usual. With the festival drawing to a close, Slim collected everyone together, bringing along the subdued werebeasts.

With everyone gathered in the south, the weretiger reverted to a young lady. All of the lycanthropes back to their senses, they each explained what had led them to the festival (one of them hadn’t even known they had contracted the condition) and the party agreed to bring them to the temple to see if Zoroe could cure them.

Back at the temple, the discussion of Slim and Calypso’s encounter with Rissund derailed into a conversation about smash-or-pass: pantheon edition. This involved Valor recalling that she had dreamed of Kildak (god of the skies) before, and thus the ‘are you a dragon fucker’ questions began. Slim explained that he had a crush harbored some hero worship for Jediah. Fea spotted a cowboy off to the side tending to some oxen and approached him, rather brazenly, asking him if he would smash or pass Jediah.

When Fea returned, she expressed to Slim that the cowboy she spoke to seemed... different. She meaningfully gazed up at the stained glass window of Jediah. Mortified that the Jediah had overheard Slim’s thoughts and affections for him, Slim began to plot his escape from this mortal coil, but Fea stopped him. Hey, who knows, maybe Slim has a chance with his god.

With their mission accomplished, the party found a bathhouse and took some time to clean up and relax. Fea and Calypso got a private room so that Fea could... de-skin? Re-skin? Something with her dead skin, without scaring any of the other bathers. And of course, Slim caught up on his stories and wrote a letter. (Also at some point I can’t recall, Calypso was heckling Valor, or “queenie,” but then did honestly say Valor looked lovely. Valor proudly declared then and there that Calypso had in fact given her a compliment.)

The following day, the Breakfast Club set out for Smoth. As a group they decided that when they found the group of penitent undead there, they would deal with them as non-violently as possible. They arrived in Smoth in the rain, and Slim took point in asking the barkeep (an unfortunately attractive minotaur) for some directions to what they were looking for.

Soon enough the group found the undead, accompanied by a dark figure with piercing blue orbs for eyes. She was standing off against a group of rough-looking individuals, led by a large yakfolk man. In the interest of keeping things non-lethal, Valor fired a warning shot at the yakfolk and told him to back off from the undead. Calypso, not at all following Valor’s thread, ran up and put the hurt on the guy, even stunning him.

Fea took a protective stance between the bandits and the dark figure (who had put up some kind of barrier around herself). Kattie cast Shatter to knock out a couple of bandits, and startled another to run off. After that, the yakfolk agreed to get the hell out of there, and all the bandits headed out. Fea began addressing the mage, called Ikarene-- the ensuing conversation took place in Abyssal, so none of the others could follow.

Fea relayed some info to the rest of the group, explaining that Ikarene’s purpose was to escort the penitent undead to Calamity and that the group ought to help them get there safely. After some considering of their options, the group decided to teleport them all back to Guild City. From there, they’d travel into the mountains to Fort Silver and secure them safe passage across the water to Calamity. Kattie used Sending to inform Anna of this, and Anna said she’d make the best preparations she could.

Fea determined she would remain with Ikarene and the undead for the night, to make sure they would be safe. The rest of the party went back to Smoth, where the barkeep from earlier (Toark) said that their checks were in the mail, basically. Slim paid for everyone’s food and rooms, and ended up landing himself a nice night with Toark.

Meanwhile, Calypso agreed to share a room with Valor, and Valor declared it would be a Girls’ Night. She, of course, had to explain what a girls’ night even was, since Calypso hadn’t really had one before. Face masks, talking about crushes, all that. Plus tiefling rite of passage stuff, since Valor was too sheltered to have done any of that kind of thing, apparently.

(And then there was text RP where Valor insisted pretty much everyone could tell Fea and Calypso were basically a thing, and told her to consider going for it. Calypso denied everything and didn’t think anything would ever even happen. But the tief squad did kinda bond a little, in spite of it all. ALSO Valor couldn’t handle fire like your standard tiefling can, and she’s apparently gotten sunburns in the past. Bwuh?)

(Additionally, Fea and Ikarene had a conversation wherein Fea said she had grown confident in the present of people that cared about her, despite the fact that she is dead and Abyssal. Ikarene pressed X to doubt, thinking that Fea’s disguise would drop at some point. Welp.)

[01comic]

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[fancyshooting]

YES OCELOT IS A LIAR. HOWEVER...

for all his deceit and treachery, ocelot ironically seems to value authenticity. there are plenty of examples of this across the entire series

in mgs1, when solid snake says, "you're all just a bunch of sadists," ocelot is offended at the notion of being grouped in with "uniformed fools," i.e. those who conform and blindly follow orders in order to achieve someone else's goals

even though he is playing up the "russian patriot" act, he also mentions "true feelings being suppressed"

this might not have meant too much at the time but as his character has developed, it is clear just how important sincerity is in regards to ocelot, especially the relationship between him and big boss

this excerpt from the snake eater novel offers some insight into snake's reasons for stopping eva shooting ocelot:

"Ocelot, who had been backing away, turns his back and runs away without being afraid. Eva raises the visor of her helmet and tries to shoot him with her Mauser. "Wait!"

Snake pushed her arm to deflect her aim. The corner of Snake's mouth turns up, and she blames him.

"Why?"

She had been suspected by Snake last night. But Snake pushed through his emotions, as if he had regained the man he was before he was betrayed. This is the kind of man he was in his own right. In this mission, Ocelot is on the enemy side and he [Snake] is on this side. But it was a shame to shoot a man in the back who had shown himself to be so hateful in an operation full of betrayals."

snake finds ocelot's genuine frustration and open contempt almost a comfort. his emotions are clear and uncomplicated. this is refreshing after the surprise defection by the boss. we know how close snake was to the boss. her defection crushed and destabilised him, forcing him to question what he believed to be certain. the boss was the last person he ever expected to turn her back on her country, so for her to switch allegiance with seemingly no guilt or second thoughts leaves snake feeling disorientated. ocelot acting exactly as an enemy should alleviates these feelings of confusion and doubt, providing a source of stability

ocelot struggles to give anything but a genuine reaction whenever snake is mentioned (btw this is what I think is meant by "pure and likeable" in his casting sheet description. pure as in raw emotion). he has been comfortably undercover for four years, yet slips up in front of his superior with "he's good..." and somehow manages to make his "infatuation" with the enemy apparent to tatyana/eva, despite suspecting her of espionage. he is cautious around her yet thoughtlessly reveals an exploitable weakness, something he normally would be meticulous about preventing. he can lie about everything but his feelings for snake. his feelings are so intense that he repeatedly jeopardises his own safety and mission in order to settle a personal score

snake was the one who encouraged him to use a revolver, a weapon ocelot uses not for efficiency but because he finds it personally appealing. the SAA was practically obsolete long before he was even born but he sincerely enjoys using it. he has always had access to modern weapons but instead opts for the gun that grants him fulfilment, even though it puts him at a technical disadvantage

for someone so cold and ruthless, he is oddly sentimental about his guns:

"Old things, things you've used for a long time - they acquire a soul of their own."

they are clearly of great value and significance to him but again, are totally outdated. this doesn't matter to ocelot.

his fondness for his "old things" is telling. he has this line too:

"Power - such a fragrance. Brings back such memories."

he also mentions feeling nostalgic when raiden is captured in mgs2. again, at the time, this would've simply been a reference to mgs1 but now that his background has been expanded upon, we can safely assume that with this line and the others, he is actually referring to his own memories of the events of 1964 and their lifelong impact on him

ocelot is grateful to snake for recognising him as an individual. eva talks briefly about the suppression of spies' identities in favour of aliases and falsehoods. ocelot notoriously does nothing but mislead and deceive, as he has been raised to do. he has not been allowed to develop an identity of his own because that would put the philosophers' objectives at risk. he is a tool of the philosopher's first and a person second. a flicker of his true self shows in his obsession with the SAA, which snake drew out. this push for individuality features in the boss' final conversation with snake, in which she laments being swallowed up by the system and expresses hope for the future. her son had already had it ingrained into him that he is a soldier but snake's intervention pulled him away from the system that killed his grandfather, father and mother

authenticity is at the core of the relationship between big boss and ocelot. also relevant is the fact that they call each other by their real first names, rather than codenames. they drop all pretences with each other, which makes ocelot's role in mgsv all the more tragic. he is fully aware he will be unable to maintain any sort of lie about snake without drastically altering his mind so willingly destroys the entire foundation of their relationship :(

[evita-shelby]

The Modern Au

Placeholder title until i can come up with a better one lol

Mostly for @thegreatdragonfruta a continuation of sorts to the one shot, Business School

Gif by @crackshipandcrap

For reference pato is a nickname for people named Patricio and also teh word for duck (the creature)

“My family says we can’t have their blessing unless you meet them.”

Those were the words that had led him to surprise his fiancé with first class tickets to Mexico City. His company was doing great now that Eva was on board. With imports and exports now formally added to the family bookmaking business, Tommy could splurge for a romantic getaway for two.

“I need to warn you, the whole family will be there ---well, the ones who are still alive anyways,” Eva said after she managed to get them a private jet because her family were expecting them.

She was nervous, he was the first guy she ever brought home, Eva had admitted when her answer to his surprise had been running away to avoid throwing up on the floor.

"Your family must really love your granny." He said when she told how many people were going to her grandmother's ninetieth birthday party.

“That too.” She said and kept it at that.

Her granny was a billionaire who inherited a small shipping company and turned it into an empire by the time she retired and handed it over to her children.

Had ten children, only six remained alive. Amongst the list of dead children was Eva’s mother.

Eva had been left an orphan at sixteen and been raised by her uncle Patricio until she left Mexico. She adored her uncle and she wanted his approval because she felt like she couldn’t marry without it.

“You took off your ring.” He points out, hiding his fears of what that could mean.

Didn’t help that the salt and pepper diamond had his brothers and Polly asking why did he get his fiancé a dirty looking diamond.

Did she hate it? He had a feeling she had lied when she said it was perfect last week when he proposed.

“If the flight attendant sees it, she’ll tell the pilot who will tell my uncle that we got engaged without their permission. Tio Pato is the head of the family, if he’s not on board with us, then no one is.” She explained as she led him to the luxurious bedroom to freshen up.

Eva had convinced him that the company jet was the perfect place to ‘celebrate’ their engagement. Join the mile high club in style, she said when she had stolen the company jet.

Thomas knew Patricio ‘Pato’ Riley.

He supplied the ships for the contraband he and his brothers were moving across the Atlantic. Brilliant Cheng supplied the drugs, Alfie Solomons the illegal booze and the Shelby’s were the muscle and the key of getting it across the Atlantic. They were the key because they covered for Jack Smith and Patricio Riley.

Tommy knew there was no way in hell the Duck would let him marry Eva. Eva who has no idea that the uncle she believed so great and so upright was a drug lord.

Even worse Eva who has no idea Tommy’s past as a gangster wasn’t exactly in the past.

He’s tried to tell her, but the timing has never been right. He’s never lied to her about anything else, just this.

“We could always elope, love.” He helps himself to the fine liquors and watched his witch change out of her designer dress.

“We haven’t even left England and you are already wanting to run.” His witch teased him, turning to kiss him the second she slipped out of her dress, not bothering to change into anything else. “You’ll be wishing you had listened to me about going to Cancun before our holiday is up.”

“How bad could it be, Evie?” he is tempting fate and he knows it.

[hexameterwrench]

the familial connection is something that i know that ben talks about at some point, maybe a Q&A that i haven’t gotten to yet this relisten, and it really does feel like a heartbreaking missed opportunity for both zolf and sasha. i would’ve liked to have seen a world where they got that time to slow down, and have lots of cups of tea together, and grow and change and just live. i don’t know if sasha would’ve liked the quietness of the little inn life that zolf and wilde built for themselves, but i know she would’ve had a home there if she wanted it.

and yeah haha alex and lydia pretty subtly slip the harlequins reveal into the letter - at a couple points the founder’s name is mentioned (i can’t remember it - eva i think - and the wiki actually just lists sasha as the founder, lol), including when wilde says that the letter was passed down from her, and sasha’s letter makes an offhand comment that people refer to her by that other name as well. wilde then makes a comment about how “technically that makes her my boss,” which half of the cast also does not understand at the time, so it definitely goes by pretty quickly! i can’t remember if they actually ever address it further.

i am well into S4 of my RQG relisten, also known as the season that makes me cry every few episodes at a minimum

i always forget about the specific timing of sasha’s letter and jesus fucking christ guys take it easy on us

[onegirlatelier]

Guardian Lion Mittens | February, 2022

There is a time for everything…

I was intrigued by the pattern as soon as I saw it on Ravelry several years, but didn’t quite have the courage to knit it (nor spare money to spend on patterns) as it was knitted using laceweight yarns.

Back in January I was in a false state of hope and calmness, having my energy drained from a horrible period over Christmas, and I decided to cast on these mittens in time for the Chinese New Year. Only after purchasing the yarns and the pattern had I discovered that they were made using the double knitting method, which was new to me, and after several attempts in one night I had to admit that I wasn’t emotionally ready for a pair of mittens with a 128 stitch count. I shoved the project away into my yarn box, searching for another project that could either use this gorgeous pattern or these yarns.

Then shortly before the CNY, I made major life decisions and felt a hundred times better. I was motivated by Marceline (@marcelinewu) over on Instagram to keep making in the new year, and also saw Eva (@thecraftedspoon) mentioning trying double knitting. I felt ready to give it another go.

It was truly a labour of love. Even though now I’ve finished the mittens and love them, I still don’t think it is a particularly enjoyable pattern. My wrists hurt, my neck hurt, the nature of colourwork yarns meant they were not pleasant wrapped around my fingers—but luckily I’ve always been a product knitter rather than a process knitter. I kept going by envisioning the finished object and I’m so glad I stuck to it.

*About the name

I decided to call them Guardian Lion Mittens because of the stone lion portrayed. The pattern is named Foo Dog, which confused me because I could easily recognize the stylized animal as a stone lion, a traditional Chinese architectural ornament that stand (in pairs) in front of a building. I looked it up and think the Western translation might be due to the Japanese reference to them as 'lion dogs’ as they transmitted from China to Japan via Korea. The ‘Foo’ might be a transliteration of the word 佛 (Buddha) or 福 (good fortune) in Mandarin and some Chinese dialects. But to me, Guardian Lion seems the most authentic name and carries a good wish.

Pattern

Foo Dog Mittens by Svetlana Gordon

As I’ve written, it is not the easiest of patterns. It feels very typically ‘Russian’ for some reason, probably because the finished object is absolutely beautiful to look at but it is hell complicated to make.

(But if you like this type of patterns, be sure to check out the Ravelry page of this designer—she has so many wonderfully fantastical designs.)

The thumb: For the first mitten, I followed the instruction by placing 11 double stitches onto a spare yarn and casting on 11 new stitches to continue the main body. It was doable, but took me two hours to pick up stitches for the thumb because the cast-on edge (created by backwards loop method) with alternating colours for double knitting wasn’t the neatest for picking up stitches. Thus for the other mitten, I used my usual method by knitting the 11sts with a spare yarn, transferring the stitches back to the left hand needle, and continuing with the pattern. I only knitted 25 rows for the thumb.

I made two small changes to the pattern on the palm side too, just because I think it looks nicer this way.

The mittens are entirely reversible and theoretically you knit the two layers exactly to the same dimensions, which is why the outer layer ends up a little stretched and the inner layer a bit scrunched up (think about making garments—a slip barely needs any ease whilst a coat needs a lot of ease!). This is especially obvious at the decreases at the finger tips, where the colour of the inner layer (white) seeps through the outer layer (red). Now that the yarns have bloomed after blocking, it is not too much of an issue for me. However at some point I might crochet a chain between the two dec stitches on each side using the red yarn to cover up the speckles of white.

(Above: the double knitting technique allows for two sides with reverse colour combos, though the inner side is wrinkly and wouldn't lay flat because the layers relaxed differently during blocking.)

(Above three: see how obvious the laddering is on the inner side. The second picture shows the laddering on one side of the thumb solved with duplicate stitches. Fortunately, the laddering doesn't show too much on the outer side.)

Size

The pattern asked for a standard laceweight (400m/50g) and I picked a slightly heavier yarn. The pattern had only one size (18.5cm) so I was worried that my mittens were going to be very loose. Initially when I held the yarns at my normal tightness, they did create a very loose-fitting cuff. Then I actively tightened the yarns throughout the process (to the point it was difficult to slide the stitches across the needle) and this achieved the size that fits my hands snuggly. Maybe I wouldn’t have to do this if I had 1.75mm needles but the smallest I had was 2.00mm, which was what the pattern asked for.

(For reference, my palm circumference is 17.5cm.)

The mittens are also a fair bit longer than my hands, but the main body is difficult to modify because of the pattern. They are not too long, though, and still practical, so I don’t really have a problem.

Yarn

Isager Spinni

600m/100g (which can be bought in 50g cakes, but I didn’t know that when I bought them—not pleased about that!)

100% pure new wool, made at Skive Garn, Danmark and I’m assuming that it uses Scandinavian, if not Danish, wool. Non-superwash.

Colours: 0 (white) and 32s (red)

I used approx. 26g white and 30g red. The disparity might be due to the fact that the main colour for the ‘outer layer’ when knitting (I knit with the whole project in front of the needles in magic loop) requires a tiny bit more meterage. There are slight differences between the skeins too of course.

At a thicker laceweight, it doesn’t have the smoothness or fineness that I link with lace yarns. In fact, it is similar to Shetland wool and only a tiny bit less rough than Tukuwool fingering. I don’t enjoy knitting with it as much as I love silk or alpaca, but it is very sticky and good for colourwork—I didn’t catch a stitch in a dec and didn’t notice until after blocking, and it didn’t unravel at all. After blocking, it did bloom nicely and created a hearty warm fabric that was (in my opinion) quite a bit softer than Tukuwool.

It is a single ply, woolen-spun yarn, which is prone to skewing when knitted up in stockinette (Donna Eskin has a good article on this), but perhaps the tight-gauged double knitting with colourwork helps the fabric stay balanced as it is not too obvious in my finished and blocked mittens.

I’ve used Isager yarns several times and as always I think it is one of the more environmentally friendly options.

The pattern suggested Malabrigo lace, which sounds interesting as I’ve worked with it before. Whilst it was a stunning non-superwash single-ply merino lace yarn, it was soft like cotton candy and unfortunately pilled easily. I’d be very hesitant to use it for mittens as I would use merino for socks, but I do wonder if the tight gauge makes it more hardwearing.

I know that tigers and lions don’t even live in the same habitat, but I still think this is a nice project to start off the new year. Wish everyone very good fortune in the Year of the Tiger!

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 4 (Cowboy Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 4: The Party (Cowboy Path)

Pairing: Eli x reader

Content: Drinking, some angsty pining

Length: 2.4k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

The gala was as elaborate and ostentatious as you would expect of a formal event at the Imperial academy. It was like the whole ballroom shimmered as glasses of drinks were passed around and ornate dresses swished about in dance. You'd certainly never been a part of anything so grand from your home world before.

The sight made you pause as soon as you entered through the doors. It was breathtaking.

You let Thrawn guide you around the ballroom, barely registering his path as you took in all the shiny and expensive details around you. You were especially enchanted by the handful of couples circling around the dance floor, seemingly floating along with the music. You hadn't danced in so long... properly, anyway. Shimmying around your room in your underwear after a shower did not count.

"The music is quite pleasant," said Thrawn from beside you. For a moment, you forgot that part of the plan for the night was to substitute the names of your targets for other subjects, so any potential eavesdroppers would be none the wiser to your true intentions. Anything related to music was supposed to symbolize one half of the plan: Eva and Arden. But because you were so caught up in the spectacle around you, and your inner longing to genuinely engage with it all, you didn't immediately pick up on Thrawn's true meaning.

"It is," you said with just a hint of wistfulness. Your eyes happened to be watching one of the more gracefully dancing couples, the only signal to Thrawn that he needed to help you refocus.

He cleared his throat just loud enough to get your attention and then flicked his eyes toward the entrance of the ballroom meaningfully. You followed his gaze to see Eva and Arden had now arrived. Eli would be keeping an eye on them, while you and Thrawn would track Burdick. Your heart sunk as you were reminded, yet again, that you were not here for a good time. Tonight was about Thrawn's mission.

"Do you think Eli has noticed? The music?" you quickly supplied, hoping Thrawn wouldn't doubt your support.

"Yes, he seems to be enjoying it." Thrawn then looked to a different part of the room, where Eli was standing next to his date. Sadie. She was a tiny thing, with perfect proportions and well-styled hair and wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. You suddenly realized who she was, not having connected the dots before. She was in a few of your combat classes and had this weird habit of pumping her fist in victory every time she landed a good hit. You and Eli had made fun of her together. Why was he now going out with her?

"Yeah, he does..." you said absentmindedly as you watched your friend. Eli was making a show of casually looking around while really paying extra attention toward the couple by the entrance. But then Sadie linked her arm in his and looked up at him with a sweet smile, and he returned the gesture with a smile of his own. Your previous feelings of awe and fascination over this event were quickly turning into something much more sour.

"Did you also notice we have an assignment due soon?"

The comment from Thrawn made you blink away from the troubling scene in front of you. The Chiss had not been watching Eli, actually sticking to the plan and scanning the crowd for the other person of interest. Commander Burdick, who would be referred to by discussions of homework, another innocent topic. Thrawn had finally spotted him over by an hors d'oeuvre table.

"Thanks for the reminder," you muttered. A tray of drinks passed by, held aloft by a protocol droid, and you took the opportunity to swipe at one and down its contents in one go. You could see Thrawn eyeing you curiously from your peripheral, but you made it a point to not look back.

"Perhaps we should stand out of the way," said Thrawn, taking hold of your elbow and guiding you through the crowd and over to an area where several tall cocktail tables were set up. You set your empty glass on the surface of one of them and leaned restlessly against it. Your eyes kept wandering toward the commander as he munched furiously on some kind of cubed meat, glowering at all who passed by. Eventually you'd have to help make sure he was glowering at Arden long enough to maybe get some ideas, but right now, with the night only just beginning, there didn't seem to be much need for you to linger.

"This is a fun song. Maybe we could dance for a bit? Pass the time?" you asked, swirling your empty glass around in a bored manner.

Thrawn stared at you for a moment, most likely trying to determine if you were using the special code that you were supposed to or if you were actually talking about music and dancing.

"I think we should discuss the assignment that is due," he said, almost in a reprimanding tone. "It is rather important."

You swiped at another tray of drinks passing by, muttering over the rim of the glass, "Who goes to a party to talk about homework?"

You were being salty; you knew that. This mission was important and you cared about it. You cared about your friends and what this meant for them. But it seemed the more alcohol you took in, the more annoyed you grew toward those friends. Thrawn was such a stick in the mud, and Eli was apparently a big flirt. Was this really the best way to fix their problem? Was it really worth missing out on a fun evening?

Thrawn didn't seem too pleased as you downed your second drink in a matter of minutes. He cleared his throat in that way he did when he was about to lecture you. You cut him off before he got the chance.

"So what was that surprise you were talking about earlier?"

He blinked at you. "I never mentioned a surprise."

"Yeah. You said you didn't disappear, you were working on something, and that I'd see soon enough. Well? What should I be seeing?"

He reached across the table and gingerly took your empty glass from you with a frown. "You hadn't noticed? There is only one assignment."

It was your turn to blink at him. He sighed and jerked his head to where Burdick was still standing.

"I made sure his date would be delayed in arriving," he said very quietly; you almost couldn't hear him above the din of the party. "So he wouldn't be distracted."

You looked over at the Commander, not very subtle in your observation of him, so it was no surprise the man noticed your staring and frowned even more deeply.

The sound of your name caused you to snap back to Thrawn, who was circling the table to lean in closer. He seemed upset; or, as upset as Thrawn could ever seem through his calmness.

"If you have other things you wish to be doing, I would much rather you leave for them, instead of staying and causing problems." His voice was low in your ear. You sighed at his words, feeling bad for how you'd been behaving.

Just a little bit.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite student," came the voice of Commander Burdick. The man had apparently decided to come over after discovering you'd been staring at him, however, he was very clearly addressing Thrawn and not you. "I'm surprised you'd even come to an event like this."

"The Academy has provided a generous occasion tonight," Thrawn slipped out of his scolding of you and into his usual demeanor without missing a beat. "It would have been in bad taste for us to not attend."

Though it had been your staring that'd called him over, it was only when Thrawn referred to you collectively that Burdick finally acknowledged you. He gave a grunt as a sort of laugh.

"What about that scruffy little friend of yours? He doesn't care about taste?"

"Eli's here..." you heard yourself saying. You also felt Thrawn tensing beside you. You tried to give him a reassuring look as you turned to point out your friend behind you, moving about on the dance floor with Sadie. And just beside them was Eva and Arden, as you knew they would be. The two couples seemed to be trying to one-up each other with their dance moves. You quickly turned away so you wouldn't have to register how exciting and intimate it all was.

"So I see," Burdick hummed. You couldn't tell if he still had the same frown from before, or if it was a new one in response to seeing his ex with a student. "You're not a dancer, Thrawn?"

"Only when the mood strikes, sir."

"Well if you don't show your woman a good time, someone else will." Burdick took a step forward and held out a hand toward you. Your eyes grew wide, panicking. That was certainly unexpected.

Thrawn quickly, and smoothly, jumped to your defense.

"Sir, I'm afraid she is not feeling well. I have simply been keeping her company."

Burdick looked between the two of you, and then briefly beyond at the dance floor, before giving an odd smirk and retreating.

"Very well. Enjoy your... company."

The Commander turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. As you watched the back of his head, you couldn't help but wish you hadn't frozen and had accept his offer to dance. It was probably going to be the only offer you got all night.

"What... were... you... thinking..."

You looked over at Thrawn, surprised he was still upset. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes.

"Huh? I made sure he noticed Eva," you defended yourself. "He asked me to dance, probably to make her jealous, but since that's not happening, he'll be able to focus his revenge on Arden now."

"That is quite the assumption, based on absolutely no evidence."

"There is too evidence--"

"And apparently we've abandoned all secrecy and discretion, too. Might as well announce what we're planning to the whole ballroom while we're at it."

Thrawn's piercing eyes looked down on you, looking more like fire than they ever did. You bowed your head for a few seconds, needing to escape the heat and cool down.

"I'm sorry," you said, finally looking back at him. "I didn't mean to... mess up on the homework."

You offered what you hoped was an endearing smile. Thrawn only left you hanging for a second before he relaxed just a little.

"You did not mess up," he stated, returning to his side of the table and finally taking up the drink still left sitting there. "But perhaps you should just observe for the rest of the night."

And observe you did. The rest of the evening seemed to both pass by in a shimmering blur, and crawl forward at an unbearable pace. You observed couples dancing, laughing, even kissing. You observed how the energy of the ballroom shifted from eager liveliness to unhurried intimacy as time drew on. You observed the hors d'oeuvres dwindle and the champagne lose its bubbles and the lights dim ever-so-subtly.

Occasionally you actually observed the "homework," whenever he happened to pop out from the crowd. Thrawn did most of the note-taking, pointing out under muttered breath how the commander was still fixating on his ex, how his frown seemed to change from grumpiness and anger to determination and craftiness. Whatever that meant. You couldn't ever pretend to notice half the signs Thrawn did.

But most importantly, you observed a certain shaggy-haired boy from Wild Space.....

The way he danced, somewhat stiffly, but not as clumsy or awkward as one might expect from someone who couldn't figure out a tie.

The way he seemed to so effortlessly keep an eye on his despised classmate while still paying attention to his date and all her friends.

The way he casually hung out with her friends in between dances, as if he'd always been a part of their group.

The way he held her.

The way he looked at her.

At some point, you'd finished off your fifth glass of champagne, and you were definitely feeling the effects of it. That was what you were feeling, you told yourself. Your stomach was in knots and your brow was feeling warm and your heart was beating in your ears, all because of the alcohol. It didn't have anything to do with your guilt from upsetting Thrawn earlier, or the fact that even though Eli had nodded your way a few times in acknowledgement, he hadn't once come over to make good on his promise to save a dance for you. Nope. It was the alcohol and nothing else.

"Thrawn," you said quietly, breaking the Chiss's concentration on something-or-other across the way. "Do you mind if I call it a night? I'm pretty tired."

His eyes flickered over at the amount of empty glasses you had collected beside you, but he didn't comment on it. Only nodded in understanding and returned back to his mission.

You sighed as you picked your way through the crowd that remained. Quite a few students and teachers had already left for the night, but plenty still remained, and it baffled you just how many were hoping - and fighting - to earn to a place in the Empire.

And then something caught your eye just as you made to push through the doors and out into the night. One last thing to observe.

Eli and Sadie were swaying to the slow song playing, just off the actual dance floor. It was like they were in their own world. Her hands rested against his chest, and his chin laid atop her head, and they turned in slow circles as they rocked back and forth, holding each other close. When Eli's face finally turned toward your view, you swore your insides were threatening to crawl up your throat and spill out all over the shiny floor.

His face was relaxed, content. His lips were turned upward in a pleased sort of smile you'd only seen a few times on him before, usually after he'd told you a nice childhood memory, or after he finished a hearty meal. This wasn't an act; this had nothing to do with the mission or your purpose here at this dance. He was happy, holding her.

Just as his eyes wandered from whatever peaceful place they'd been resting and locked onto yours, you finally pushed through the door and left.

[elliewritessometimes]

hello! me n @mattieswheelers wrote another fic!! tiff is the most incredible writing partner and i- i just love them???? thanky so much for writing with me you are a stunning writer aaaa (y'all there will be a second chapter stay tuned fdhhddh aLSO we are posting this on ao3 it will be there at some point)

in other news: this was originally a request!! @notsomightymightytiger it may have taken me uh- a good couple of months but here is your fic!!!

for reference, these numbers apply to these tropes: first kiss/flowers of romance/blind date

LOVE YOU KIERA AND TIFF AAAAA HOPE YOU LIKE

tw: swearing, alcohol and drunkenness but not in an angsty farrah way just in a silly oops first date way, as per usual if there's anything at all you want me to tag let me know :D

---

Eva thought she was doing perfectly fine without a romantic partner. Her life was normal, one filled with work and friends and scrolling through Pinterest.

Apparently, in the eyes of her best friend, this was not a normal life. Farrah had always been a bit extra, that one kid in highschool who always seemed to know where the best parties were, or who was known by name to the baristas at the local Starbucks, and by the ripe old age of 22, she believed that a romantic partner was crucial to living a fulfilling life.

Or, at least, that you should at least try romance once before becoming a hermit in the woods, especially if your name was Eva Sanchez.

(“Look, normally I wouldn’t be like this,” Farrah drawled, leaning against a counter, “But deep inside  you are nothing but a useless gay at heart-”

Her phone buzzed.

“-and you haven’t dated anyone, like, ever, and if I have to be the only one constantly dragging you out to social gatherings, I’m going to die early. So do me a solid, will you?”

“Hey-!”)

Eva did not agree.

But, she was a loyal friend, and that was how she found herself sitting in an overly posh restaurant on some random blind date with some random person that she’d never even seen before. It would be an understatement to say she was a little bit nervous, but then again, whenever Farrah was involved, that was normal.

***********: hi sorry i got your number from the blind date place thing but uh are you the person at the table in the corner

***********: ???denim jacket ?? pride pin??

Eva smiled, glancing up at the door. There was another person looking a little lost in the entrance, very obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, their phone held close to their face as they squinted around at the restaurant. They were pretty, dark hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, obviously not dressed for a restaurant as upper class as this one. Eva liked them immediately. Raising a hand, she waved in their direction, laughing as her date gasped dramatically, hurrying over and nearly overturning a tray of drinks on their way.

“Hello.”

“Look-” Eva’s date slumped in the seat opposite, one hand awkwardly held behind their back. “I dunno about you, but I certainly did not willingly sign up for this. You see, my friend wanted me to apparently live a more interesting life and stop relying on Tumblr as my only source of interaction with anyone, and my friend is very persuasive, so here I am.”

Eva raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I wanted to get that out of the way before we even introduce ourselves. I am here out of spite only, so, uh, I hope you’re not too desperate.” They paused, finally taking a breath. “Right. The more I think about this, the more embarrassed I get.”

“It’s okay.” Eva gave a noise which sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Let’s not think about it then. I’m Eva. She/her. It’s nice to meet you, unwilling datemate.”

They grinned. “Kate. She/they.” She gasped a little like she’d forgotten something. “Oh! I brought flowers. Chess said it would be romantic.”

Eva accepted the offered flowers with a blush. This date was going better than expected. Farrah was going to lose her shit when she heard about it. “Wait- You have a friend called Chess?? Like, the game???”

Kate rolled their eyes, casually snatching a bright pink cocktail off a passing waiter’s tray. “Duh. You didn’t really see me walk in this fucking posh ass restaurant in my flannel and converse and think I’d be normal, right?”

Eva laughed then, properly. It had only been a few short, chaotic minutes, but she was already warming to this mystery person and, God, they had good taste in flowers. Even if Eva’s nerd hermit brain did helpfully choose that moment to remind her that this particular bunch of flowers presented a meaning that translated almost exactly to ‘fuck you’. She wondered if Kate was aware of that. However, perhaps that was a fun fact for the second date.

-

“Hey, Eva?” Kate was slightly tipsy. Only a little bit! Really not that bad. Not at all. Definitely not too drunk for a first date. Shut up. “Hey! You’re- so cool.”

Eva giggled - she was equally as drunk, but not quite so intoxicated as to stop wondering why the restaurant hadn’t thrown them out yet. “Noooooo. ‘m a nerd.”

“Yeah, but a cool nerd.” Kate twirled the decorative candle between her fingers, drawing stares from disapproving patrons. The flame reflected in Eva’s glasses, making her just a little bit more smitten by the second. They enclosed their hand around the candle holder as best they could, standing up just a little shakily. “Eva-” It was like they got a rush from just saying her name. Eva thought it was endearing. “Hey- we- we should go…”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes, also standing up, her long-discarded denim jacket slung over one arm, the other naturally slipping to link arms with Kate.

“....Arson.” Kate sounded entirely serious, still twizzling the candle in one hand. Eva blinked dumbly at her, mouth slightly open. They pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Eva’s mouth, giggling uncharacteristically at the motion. “I’m jokingggg! Don’t look so shook, my dude.”

Eva stuttered a little, letting Kate pull her finally out of the restaurant, marvelling at the fact she’d only known this incredible, crazy person for a matter of hours. Who knew where tonight would take them?

-

They found themselves in a park, gazing up at the stars, now dim in the reflections of the city lights. Kate’s phone flashed 11:46 in the dark, the lock screen filled with notifications from a contact who’s name consisted only of a chess piece.

Eva lay down on the grass, spreading her arms out towards the stars. “Do you ever think about life?”

“Sure. All the time. I’m alive, and so are you, and I think you’re really pretty. Does that count?” Kate flopped down beside her.

“I- I mean, yeah- um,” Eva tried not to sound flustered, thankful for the darkness that hid the color rising in her cheeks. “But like, life. Scientifically. Relatively.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, I totally do. Um. Do I?”

Eva laughed, turning her head slightly to gaze at Kate. Under the light of the stars, they looked… ethereal. And really, really, really beautiful. And-

Eva coughed slightly, turning back towards the night sky. “Just… think about it. I’m lying here beside you, on a giant marble that hurtles through space. Relatively speaking, our orbit and path are unique, and all around us, the other planets are… swirling in harmony, and we’re just. We’re just here to see it.”

Kate hummed. “You sound like those philosophical people, all ‘if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, did it really fall?’ and ‘relatively speaking I am relatively here, and I’m relatively certain… blah blah blah.’”

“Huh. Do I?” Eva shrugged, putting her hands behind her head. “I dunno. I’m drunk. I think. Oh, no, I’m relatively drunk, ha ha- okay no, I’m just drunk.”

“You are,” Kate nodded wisely. “We both are.”

“Do you know what Albert Einstein said once?” Eva asked abruptly, closing her eyes. “He said, ‘When you’re courting a nice girl, an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder, a second seems like an hour. That's relativity.’ And if that isn’t the most relatable thing he’s ever said, then, well- okay yeah I’ve lost my train of thought.”

“Wow,” said Kate. “Did Albert Einstein court lots of nice girls?”

“Pfft.” Eva rolled onto her side, laughing openly in Kate’s face. “Sure. Why not.”

They rolled to face Eva, curling up into a ball, softer than the 22-year-old had seen her all evening. “Not as nice as the one I’m courting right now.”

“Even though neither of us really wanted to be here earlier?”

“Yeah. Y’know, I’m fucking glad our best friends basically set us up. It’s very pog of them.”

“You did not just say ‘pog’. You did not.” Eva groaned into the slightly damp, slightly disgusting grass, listening to Kate cackle next to her.

“Shit, dude, my secret’s out. I’m just as much of a nerd as you.” She leant their head on Eva’s outstretched arm, burrowing into her side.

Eva paused then, draping her other arm around Kate, thinking quietly. It was stupid, really, that they were cuddling in the openness of a park at almost midnight. Dangerous, definitely, especially when you took in the candle still flickering far too close to Kate’s now loose hair. Some more sensible people, maybe Farrah’s sister, would say that it was stupid how close they’d grown in so few hours. But Kate and Eva weren’t sensible people, not really, and maybe this was completely normal for them. Nerds lived life differently. “We’re not like other girls… we’re nerds.”

Kate barked out a laugh again, pressing yet another small kiss to the top of Eva’s head.

Eva thought she might melt into a puddle right then and there.

God, she was so in love.

Kate looked up at the sky. “Y’know, for all your philosophical talk, you should be an inspirational speaker. Be on goddamn TedTalks or something, blow the crowd away with all that ‘the future’s in the palm of my hand!!’ bullshit.”

“Well,” Eva said, trying to sound completely sober (and failing), “I think all I could ever want is in the palm of my hand, right now.”

Kate paused for a moment, registering the fact that Eva had just cupped her hands around their face. “Wow. That was smooth.”

“Right?? I’m honestly impressed and I was the one who said it. Wait, is that hubris? Oh shoot, am I developing an ego? Or maybe I’m just drunk?” Eva’s head was seriously starting to hurt.

“You deserve an ego,” Kate nodded sagely. “You are so amazing. Seriously. You should have an ego. Dab on the haters and all that jazz, right? Right.”

Eva giggled, unable to take her eyes away from Kate’s. “What the shit?”

“Dude! Dab on the haters. ‘m fuckin’ right, and you know I am.”

“Mkay.”

“Lit.” Kate dragged her gaze from Eva’s, instead staring up at the stars. “If we weren’t drunk right now, I’d be kissing the hell out of you.”

Eva pouted. Apparently Drunk-Eva was limited to the facial expressions of a twelve year old. “Who’s to say you can’t kiss me now.”

“We’re drunk, Eva.” They waved their hands, casually flipping off the moon. “Consent.”

“If you think about drunk...ness. Drunkenness? Drunkness. Whatever.” She coughed. “If you think about it like maths, then because we’re both drunk, it cancels out, right? Like, drunk you minus drunk me equals zero drunks overall, yeah?” Pausing, she ran a hand over her face, watching Kate smirk and wriggle closer out of the corner of her eye. “What I’m saying is, yes, I give you permission to kiss me-” Kate leaned closer and Eva laid a gentle finger on their lips. “But only if I get to kiss you back.”

The two met in the middle, naturally coming together. Some might describe them as magnets, two poles attracted, unable to stay away from each other. Others might say soulmates, meant to find each other from birth. Or, just maybe, stars, gravitationally pulled together, ready to explode into another plane of existence, one so different from our reality that we can’t even begin to imagine the wonders that they’ll find.

However, this is reality, and somehow Kate and Eva are still grounded on our Earth, stars maybe, but ones made of ancient stardust no longer free to travel the universe. They found themselves pulling apart after two worlds collided, an unknown period of time passing as it happened. Eva’s fingers didn’t untangle themselves from their comfortable seat amongst Kate’s hair, the closeness making their noses brush, spouting giggles from both young adults.

“Well, that was fun.” Kate brushed hair out of Eva’s face, one arm still wrapped tight around her waist, pulling her closer as she shivered in the night air.

“Yeah?” Eva pressed her forehead to theirs. “Why don’t we try it again, huh?”

---

“I told you so,” Farrah smirked, picking at a freshly baked blueberry muffin. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Eva huffed, failing to come up with an argument.

Over by the kitchen counter, Mattie snorted. “I find it kinda funny that the single girl insists that love is the answer to anything.”

“Well- it’s not like I’ve never dated!”

“Suuuuure,” Mattie rolled her eyes, hopping off the counter and snatching a muffin. “Anyways, at least Eva has a significant other now. That’s the biggest victory, right? Other than the celebratory muffins, of course.”

Eva sighed. “Is it really that big of a deal that Farrah’s plan worked?”

“Yep!” Farrah grinned, taking a bite of muffin.

“Technically, my plan, but okay,” Mattie shrugged.

Eva almost dropped her muffin. “What.”

Mattie grinned, a devilish glint appearing in her eye. “Believe it or not, I am also friends with none other than the amazing Chess, and since her friend Kate- who is also my friend, by the way- was being a mopey mess around the same time as you, I just had to take it upon myself to play matchmaker! So I’d like at least 50% of the credit and reward, please and thank you.”

“I- what-” Eva sputtered, trying to come to terms with the new information. “Mattie- you- oh my God.”

“Oh my God indeed,” Mattie bit into her muffin and swallowed. “So anyways, you’re welcome for getting you a girlfriend.”

Eva stared at the younger girl, mouth slightly open and muffin hanging loosely in her hand. Farrah clapped a hand over her mouth as she wheezed through a mess of sugar and blueberries, earning herself a death stare from Eva. Phone in one hand, Mattie continued eating her muffin as though nothing had happened, the teasing look on her face only exaggerating as her phone pinged with a message. “Oh! Speaking of, Chess is outside-”

She was cut off as the door burst open, the handle crashing into Eva’s bookcase, knocking her alarm clock to the ground and presenting two dishevelled figures in the doorway. One of them, a tall student probably in their last year of uni, puffed out a breath, a hand tightly clinging to a much shorter student squirming angrily. “Before you say anything, I tried to prevent any of this happening. Wheeler, I’m blaming you entirely for this.”

Mattie only laughed, offering Chess a muffin with her free hand, “Dude, it was totally your idea.”

Eva tried very hard not to stare as Kate finally freed herself from Chess’ grasp with an indignant yelp. “Fuck off! Eva, babe, sweetheart, love of my life, tell me you didn’t fucking know about this beforehand or I will break up with you.”

“No! God, no! You know I didn’t want to be there just as much as you did.” She rested her head gently on top of Kate’s, arms draped over their shoulders. “Believe you me, I’ve also been sorely betrayed today.”

Farrah gagged across the kitchen. “Ew. We should never have set you two up.”

“Bitch.” Eva grinned affectionately at her best friend, batting Kate’s hand down as they sent a middle finger in Farrah’s direction. Conversations carried on for a while, Chess finally being introduced to Farrah, with a muffin being forcefully placed into her hand. Kate whispered to Eva for a second before going out to take a call. Eva smiled knowingly, leaning on the counter to address Mattie, “So…”

Mattie made a face as Eva raised an eyebrow in her direction. “What are you thinking, Sanchez, I don’t like that face.”

“I don’t know…” She feigned thinking, sticking her tongue out as Kate re-entered the room. “Maybe, a little thank-you gift?? Y’know, me and Kate were thinking just now… Seeing as you set us up so nicely, how about you try a blind date yourself?”

Chess and Farrah stifled a laugh in unison, choking a little on their muffins as Mattie’s eyes got wider in horror. “You didn’t.”

Kate smiled sweetly. “Yup! Tonight, seven thirty. It’s payback time, kid.”

“I hate you.”

[beetlews]

DOFP Magneto Cosplay Tutorial

 I’ll try and make this as comprehensive as possible but bare with me;

This certain costume Magneto sports isn’t the hardest out there to make, but there is a lot of complicated pieces such as the cape or the armor. So lets just get into this;

The maroon undershirt that is under the armor and cape isn’t very complicated. It’s an almost skintight turtleneck that is stretchy, almost knit spandex fabric. But I want to keep that initial knit look to it, so the best way to find the right color of fabric you’d want you’d probably have to dye either a white or a red a burgundy/maroon color. The undershirt-turtleneck is more purple than the cape, but not too purple so maybe something like a maroon dye would work best.  There isn’t much to this piece, but just to hem the edges and make the neck of it fit correctly. Compared to the leather turtleneck that is also a part of the costume; I’d say make the maroon neck just a few cementers taller than the leather one, maybe 2-3 cm’s  so it shows from underneath it. (more info below)

Now moving onto the vest/armor pieces. The vest is what you attach the armor pieces to, as well as the leather turtleneck. The leather for the turtleneck, I’d suggest getting the closest thing to leather, faux leather. But sense it’s in a very visible spot, and considering if you want to go for accuracy, I’d look around for leather/faux to re-purpose. If you don’t mind that much, a cheaper faux leather would do. But there is elements of the cosplay that have both shiny and non-shiny leather. So I’d suggest getting the closest thing you can to a non-shiny pleather. 

 For the rest of the vest, it’s hard to describe the fabric. Either a thicker canvasy material where you can see the grooves in it, and to make sure it’s sturdy enough to hope the armor in place with minimal movement. Or the other option I’d almost describe it as that one pores fabric that could be on a backpack or a cheap ballistic fabric??(I’m still trying to figure it out so you may have to do some research on your own)

Making the vest fit as well as possible, I’d suggest making a duct-tape dummy so you can make sure it fits you well and your armor doesn’t clash or bend too far. Speaking of armor, The vest is going to be on the tighter side, and depending on the fabric, won’t have much stretch to it so add a zipper in the back. Also so the armor pieces don’t get damaged while slipping the vest on and off. The bottom of the vest is also a strange thing, It sort of has a curve to it as it goes around the body. There are also some stiffer armor pieces on the bottom of it, so look at some reference pictures for that.

There are many ways you could potentially attack the armor to the vest:

Velcro (I’ll probably pick this option when its time for me to make mine)

Magnets (very fitting because Magneto har har, but you’ll need strong magnets so your chest plate doesn’t pop off while you bend over)

Snaps 

Now the armor pieces in general. There are 11-12 pieces in total to make on the chest. But most of these are also not just 2-d but 3-d. They have curve and layers to them, so I’d work with 2-3 layers depending on the piece. On the main chest piece. (more below)

The lighter gray lines are just to show depth and where the armor sloped down. I’d also take the time to look at reference pictures to get it right. As you can also see by the blue lines, there is leather showing from under some pieces. Id just loop the fabric around on the edge so it shows from the front, but I feel like that part isn’t essential. The dots are just small bolt-like circles, you could either use foam to make small circles or use painted googly-eyes to make a more dome-like shape.

The materials you’ll need for making the armor are:

(I use) 5mm EVA cosplay foam

Plasti Dip, It can be used as a primer and fills in any small pores/inconsistencies in the foam

(This is optional but if your prone to mistakes) Acrylic Gesso

DAP contact cement for gluing (Note that is doesn’t hold up to high stress bonds)

(Also optional but will definitely help very much) Heat Gun, foam can be shaped and hardened with it, it’s way better than having a bunch of glue seams in foam

Spray paints and clear sealant

Your preferred method of attaching to armor to the vest (I’ll be using Velcro for my examples) 

(Optional) Black felt to line the back of the armor to keep make sure the glue doesn’t come undone somehow #precautions

Using a heat gun is much better than anything I’ve ever done with just gluing seams. It could definitely be used to make more form fitting chest pieces for this cosplay.

Attaching the armor to the vest, sew one side of the Velcro to the corresponding spots on the vest. Then the other side of the Velcro, sew it to the felt, then glue the felt to the armor pieces. It should be sturdy enough just in case there are some things that break. And don’t be afraid to use a lot of Velcro to ensure that they don’t come off. (more below)

Now for those gloves!!!

I wanted to have a couple tricks/ small performances  I could do as Magneto so it’s time to break out the magnets. Minus the electromagnetic wiring and complicated things-

I purchased a donut magnet that was roughly the size of my palm. And it’s very important its a donut magnet because you would need to attach to to you hand, not just the glove. If the magnet was attached to the glove, it would pull and eventually break the seams or worse, rip the whole palm of the glove. So instead, just wrap a wire through the hole and around your hand a couple times to make sure it’s secure. I’d recommend getting the strongest magnet you can, fabric interfering with the magnet and what it’s trying to attach will only make it weaker. This part is mainly optional, but it’s something to consider.

This is where the shiny faux-leather comes in. The whole of the gloves are made of it. Trace your hand on a piece of paper, going up to about mid forearm. After that, cut out on the shiny leather both a from and a back for both hands. Make just to leave enough seam allowance so you can easily get in and out of the gloves. As you can see in the picture above, it has layers to it so take time to figure out a loose, layered look that you like. Also to the gloves, there are 2 Velcro wraps that wrap around the arm and tighten the glove on. Both of those are hemed as well as the bottom of the glove. It doesn’t need to look exactly perfect, just maybe about an inch or 1/2 of hemed edge at the bottom of the glove. 

BTW if you do include the magnet in the hand, I’d suggest making it only one hand because both hands may cause some problems. Like holding your phone, looking at merch, or even just accidentally picking up things you don’t want to. Even just getting stuck to doors or other metal things are something to consider.

Now for those pants, personally I’m just going to diy a pair of pants for this cosplay. I applaud you if you do decided to sew your own. But to make this easier for myself I’m going to buy, tailor, and work on a pre-made pair of pants. Like the picture says:

Baggy pants, but not too baggy on the lets, just enough looseness. In the reference pictures they also look a little thick, like a dressy/ tougher material. On the sides of the pants, there is a weird striped pattern(but thats just most marvel character outfits at this point). You can cut out the pattern and sew it back in so it looks like how it does in DOFP, or you can just grab some puffy pain and draw the pattern on there. That’s what I’m going to do. 

NOW FOR THAT DAMN HELMET!!!

I have the basic instructions already on the picture, but I’ll go more in depth.

Patterning your head; it may sound strange. Basically what you will need to make a accurate shaped helmet to your head you’ll need a couple of things. Plastic wrap, duct-tape, and a marker. You wrap your head with the plastic wrap, make sure you don’t suffocate yourself. Then you use the tape to build up where you want the helmet shape to be. Following how it looks in the picture, plus a pic of Erik w/ it on, mark out roughly where you want the shapes to be. It may take a could of tries, a couple layer of tape, but eventually you’ll get something that is a 2-d version of the helmet. I usually only do one side of my head, then reflecting the pattern back over when it comes to cutting the pieces out. Just be careful you don’t go past the middle because that will cause problems when constructing it.  Using the marker, also draw out where the features are, like the weird ass horseshoe thing on his forehead.

Cut out the patterned pieces. This includes the tape pieces and the foam pieces. I’d watch a couple YouTube tutorials on this if your completely unsure. While cutting the helmet pieces up, it won’t stay in one piece. I’d suggest making a seam down the middle of the head where you flip your pattern over to. I can’t tell you much besides; try making a draft with kids foam first to make sure it looks correct. Also what can happen while cutting the foam shapes out, try to keep your scissors as straight as you can and not at an angle.

Using glue to rough up the helmet. Besides the obvious glue together the helmet and use the heat gun; the texture of this helmet is one of the roughest ones so you don’t need to be super careful with the gluing. You could also use some acrylic gesso to give it a rougher look. Also you can use the gesso to fill in some of the seams that are on the rougher side.

Paint. Then paint your helm! Not much to it besides; Plasti Dip, spray paint, acrylic paint details, seal with clear spray.

WARNING THAT IM NOT SURE ABOUT THIS PART STILL, IT WILL TAKE SOME EXPERIMENTING WITH TO GET RIGHT!!!!!

So with the cape, this is what I have figured out so far.

The top of the cape is like a wrap-around situation on the neck. It’s a stripe of a thicker burgundy fabric, It has a thicker look to it but make sure the cape won’t be too heavy. Because even a double-layered cape made from a cotton blend definitely has some weight to it. So the cape will be heavy, that’s just a fact you need to accept. In the pic is the shape of the cape that Magneto wears. The shortest part of the cape falls roughly under the crotch. And the longest part is falls roughly mid shin to foot. The cape is also wider than it looks, it drapes down.

The cape has 2 layers to it. On the outside layer, the one that’s facing outwards, is a burgundy. The inner layer is a black non-shiny faux-leather. The sides of the cape are sewn together on the edges, but not the bottom. For some reason on the bottom of the cape, it’s not sewn together, just both pieces hemed. 

On the top of the cape, there is a bit where it drapes down onto the shoulders and off to drape. 

Thank you for your interest about this :)) If you have any questions, or if I was too vague about something, go ahead and ask.

Also here’s my Youtube-

 https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6Th4OO7dRZs4hDL7c79fyA/about  

[msclaritea]

By Elizabeth Carolyn Miller

The Perils of Public Visibility

Conan Doyle’s resistance to visually identifying the female criminal sometimes appears, nonetheless, as a denial of women’s public subjectivity, a refusal to grant women full citizenry by refusing to grant them full criminality. The anonymous female avenger in “Charles Augustus Milverton” perfectly exemplifies this tendency in the series. Despite the violence of the murder she enacts, Holmes keeps her publicly invisible by chivalrously covering up her deed; her name remains a secret even to readers of the story. This is not the only case where Holmes opts not to pursue legal redress after discovering a crime, but it is the most obviously illegal instance, since he actually witnesses the murder. On the night in question, Holmes and Watson break into the home of Milverton, a blackmailer, to secure some letters written by Holmes’s client, Lady Eva. While searching his study, they inadvertently witness Milverton’s meeting with a lady’s maid who has offered to sell him her mistress’s letters. Page  63

"You couldn't come any other time—eh?"

Fig. 14. From “Charles Augustus Milverton”

Page  64

The maid turns out to be a former victim in disguise. Milverton previously exposed her secret letters to her husband, who died from the shock, and she has returned to enact revenge.

In describing the interplay between Holmes, Milverton, and the avenger, Conan Doyle orchestrates a complicated interplay of the visible and the invisible. An illustration of the avenger shows her thickly veiled—utterly obscured by the accoutrement of feminine propriety (figure 14). Secreted behind a curtain, Holmes and Watson witness her visual revelation: “The woman without a word had raised her veil and dropped the mantle from her chin. It was a dark, handsome, clear-cut face which confronted Milverton, a face with a curved nose, strong, dark eyebrows, shading hard, glittering eyes, and a straight, thin-lipped mouth set in a dangerous smile” (171). While suggesting formidability, this description counters the visual criminal theory of criminologists like Lombroso, who claimed female criminals have racialized or masculine features such as a heavy jaw (102). The avenger speaks:

“It is I … the woman whose life you have ruined. … you sent the letters to my husband, and he—the noblest gentleman that ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace—he broke his gallant heart and died. … You will ruin no more lives as you ruined mine. You will wring no more hearts as you wrung mine. I will free the world of a poisonous thing. Take that, you hound, and that!—and that!—and that!—and that!”

She had drawn a little gleaming revolver, and emptied barrel after barrel into Milverton’s body, the muzzle within two feet of his shirt front. … Then he staggered to his feet, received another shot, and rolled upon the floor. “You’ve done me,” he cried, and lay still. The woman looked at him intently and ground her heel into his upturned face. She looked again, but there was no sound or movement. I heard a sharp rustle, the night air blew into the heated room, and the avenger was gone. (171–72)

This passage depicts one of the most violent murders committed by a woman in turn-of-the-century fiction, and its graphic illustration brought that violence home to readers (figure 15). Despite the woman’s ferocity, however, Conan Doyle takes pains to rationalize—even defend—her act. Her invocation of her husband and her insistence on her own humility position her squarely in the tradition of self-renunciatory Victorian wifeliness. The scandalous letters do not challenge this characterization:Page  65

"Then he staggered to his feet and recieved another shot."

Page  66

we know from Lady Eva’s case that most of the letters in which Milverton traffics were written when the women were young and unmarried, and Holmes describes Lady Eva’s letters as “imprudent, Watson, nothing worse” (159). Watson’s reference to Milverton’s killer as an “avenger” also serves to justify her act, as does her seemingly selfless invocation of Milverton’s future victims.

Holmes and Watson choose not to expose the avenger. When Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard tries to enlist Holmes’s help in solving the case, obviously unaware that he witnessed the murder, Holmes replies, “there are certain crimes which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge. … My sympathies are with the criminals rather than with the victim, and I will not handle this case” (174). Even in the moment of watching the woman unload her pistol into Milverton’s breast, while Watson reacts, Holmes holds him back:

No interference upon our part could have saved the man from his fate; but as the woman poured bullet after bullet into Milverton’s shrinking body, I was about to spring out, when I felt Holmes’s cold, strong grasp upon my wrist. I understood the whole argument of that firm, restraining grip—that it was no affair of ours; that justice had overtaken a villain. … But hardly had the woman rushed from the room when Holmes, with swift, silent steps, was over at the other door. He turned the key in the lock. At the same instant we heard voices in the house and the sound of hurrying feet. The revolver shots had roused the household. With perfect coolness Holmes slipped across to the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of letters, and poured them all into the fire. Again and again he did it, until the safe was empty. Someone turned the handle and beat upon the outside of the door. … “This way, Watson,” said he; “we can scale the garden wall in this direction.” (172–73)

Holmes not only keeps quiet about the murder, but seizes the opportunity to actively cover it up and destroy all of the compromising letters in Milverton’s safe. Committed in cold blood, with premeditation, this crime would presumably be quite disturbing to contemporary readers: a woman shooting a man with a phallic gun in his own study is a perfect example of the kind of invading and destructive threat that characterized many representations of first-wave feminism.[34] In covering the woman’s act, however, Holmes ensures that the avenger will remain outside of the public forums of the newspaper, courts, and legal system. Indeed, the female avenger remains anonymous even on a metafictional level, for Watson refuses to reveal her name even to the “public” readership of the story.

Conan Doyle’s discomfort with women in public cannot alone account for his shocking and remarkable female avenger, however; it does not explain why he makes her at once so appalling and so appealing. He takes a potentially threatening woman and normalizes her by providing justification for her act and presenting her as a loyal and loving wife; but he goes on to present her, like Irene Adler, as an object of public desire, idolization, and glamorization. At the end of the story, gazing into “a shop window filled with photographs of the celebrities and beauties of the day,” Holmes recognizes what we might call the “mug shot” for the anonymous avenger:

Holmes’s eyes fixed themselves upon one of [the photographs], and following his gaze I saw the picture of a regal and stately lady in Court dress, with a high diamond tiara upon her noble head. I looked at that delicately curved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight mouth, and the strong little chin beneath it. Then I caught my breath as I read the time-honoured title of the great nobleman and statesman whose wife she had been. My eyes met those of Holmes, and he put his finger to his lips as we turned away from the window. (174–75)

Shop window photography promoting “celebrities and beauties of the day” was part of the new visual landscape of Victorian consumerism. Just as magazine illustrations and newly visual textual formats transformed the medium in which readers encountered crime fiction and other narratives, the display of famous women’s photographs as a means of selling products helped shift public culture toward the visual, consumerist, and feminine. Here, Conan Doyle portrays one such woman—displayed in all her aristocratic splendor to encourage others’ consumption—as a murderer, a sharp distinction from what she appears to signify on a visual, imagistic level. The Holmes series on the whole presents criminality and truth as visually ascertainable categories, but when depicting female criminality, it suggests that the orchestration and framing of an image determines its meaning. Here, the murderer’s photograph is a marketing tool, not a revelation of essential identity. Rather than a low brow, sensuous lips, or a misshapen ear, she has a tiara. The photograph represents the avenger’s invulnerability: she gets away with murder in part because of her social standing, but more obviouslyPage  68

"Following his gaze I saw the picture of a regal and stately lady in court dress."

Page  69

because of her image. Conan Doyle’s depiction of the avenger encapsulates the entire series’ ambivalence about the female criminal, who represents a newly roused feminist power, the failures of patriarchy, and the consumerist appeal of feminine disobedience. The anonymous avenger is not a figure of criminal degeneracy, but of glamour and beauty; she is appealing rather than repulsive to readers. As the illustration accompanying this scene shows, she is literally a representation for the public to admire (figure 16). Thus, while Conan Doyle’s stories do commodify feminine victimization, their commodification of feminine violence and criminality is even more significant. At a historical moment when a faction of the suffrage campaign was becoming ever more violent in its acts of civil disobedience, Conan Doyle’s 1904 story banks on the allure of feminine disobedience for readers. The avenger puts the anger of first-wave feminism into an exquisite, consumable package. Like other female offenders in the series, her image and body project fantasy and glamour rather than criminological stigmata; she suits a consumerist model of vision rather than an anthropological or criminological one. In consumerist discourse, as I discuss in the introduction, to be visible and noticeable is a form of power rather than submission. Late- nineteenth-century advertisers and marketers preached, unlike Holmes, that it was better to be looked at than to look. They also defined, however, what kind of feminine embodiment was worthy of the gaze. Consumerism redefined femininity as public and visible, but only when it conformed to the logic of consumerism.

Given the series’s apparent investment in a criminological theory of vision, one would expect its female criminals to be easily identifiable, but envisioning women is an activity fraught with problems for Holmes, the otherwise expert eye. Women criminals prove capable of resisting the detective’s gaze, and Conan Doyle makes a sustained case for legal interventionism, which he associates (not unproblematically) with state feminism rather than state paternalism. Thus, at the turn of the twentieth century, Conan Doyle’s stories put forth a far more compound and ambivalent theory of gender, vision, and the public than has been previously acknowledged; they support the authority of the gaze and locate ontology in image, except when depicting women criminals. In these instances, Conan Doyle’s detective fiction prefigures filmic genres like film noir, in which femmes fatales reveal a great “truth” about the visual landscape of modern urban culture: that the unknowable is not signified by the invisible, but by a peculiarly modern disjunction between the visible and the real.”

This is an interesting article but it reminded me wasn’t there a meta or mention of a theory saying that it might have been Holmes who actually killed Milverton?

@sarahthecoat​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @raggedyblue​ @therealsaintscully​

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 01

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to a series of sex scenes with no plot.

⇁ female reader x hoseok 

⇁ smut, porn star!au

⇁ sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification (not the sexy kind), role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, porn star level dirty talk, stuff that should never happen in a kitchen bc hygiene, daddy kink, impreg kink, rough sex, spanking, a lot of finger sucking, this fic is a poor attempt at social commentary

⇁ 22.5k

. . .

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 | inspired by the piece ‘slut-shaming: pornstars are humans too’ & the life after porn documentaries on netflix. thank u to jordan, eva, amy, venus, addie and lu for being a part of this collab !! *inserts a million heart emojis and a big fat NUT emoticon*

re:warnings, the slut shaming is done by others and can also be considered as internalized oppression. it’s something the reader struggles with and eventually works to overcome. this first part isn’t as smutty as the second but regardless i hope u can bear with me lol. ty, as always, for giving my writing a chance. i hope u enjoy it or at least take something from it !

wall2wall can be read as a sequel to my fic money shot. same disclaimer applies: this story does claim to accurately portray the world of adult entertainment

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SCENE 01 - YOU’VE GOT MALE. TAKE 01. ROLL A.

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Today is just one of those days you wish you had slept straight through. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be dying from the sheer dullness of having nothing to do.

You huff out a sigh, bored out of your goddamn mind.

Head cradled in the crook of your left palm, you use your available hand to refresh your instagram feed. Much to your disappointment, nothing new shows up. The same video of a dog chasing its own tail plays on but you pay it no heed, the novelty having worn off after the first few times.

The next half hour passes by in a similar fashion, each result proving to be as unavailing as the last. You’d think that after a while you’d give up and find a new distraction to pass the time but whether out of habit or boredom-induced insanity, you persist with your fruitless attempts.

Today really fucking blows, you think glumly, the curve of your mouth thinning into a grimace. As the adorable corgie keeps the infernal cycle going, yapping and running around incessantly, you’re struck with a terrifying thought. Maybe this is how you will die - condemned to live your life stuck in the worst sort of monotony imaginable.

What you had expected to be a “quick and easy” shoot has turned into a tedious ordeal that you don’t see ending anytime soon. And whilst on-set complications and prolongations are frequent enough that they’re almost expected, today really takes the cake. Even during your rookie days, you can’t recall running into delays of this scale.

To top it off, the weather app announces a record-breaking heat - which in itself is bad enough. As luck would have it, it gets worse. The place rented out for today’s filming lacks proper air conditioning, equipped instead with electric fans that look like they’ve been around since the 1980s.

A quick glance into the vanity mirror confirms that you look as frazzled as you feel. Because of the humidity level that weighs down the air, your hair is in a right state. You fight a grimace off your face. The straggly hair coupled with the oily sheen on your face...it’s far from your best look, to say the least.

And to think thousands of people will get to see it up close in 1080p resolution... It’s a terrifying concept.

You’re already dreading the upcoming sex scenes that you’ve yet to film. It’s always a messy affair - fluids of all kind end up literally everywhere - but the sweltering heat undoubtedly makes it ten times worse. A shudder works its way down your spine.

Frankly speaking, the mere thought of having hot and wild sex in these less than ideal working conditions kills your libido. Under the glaring studio lights, surrounded by sweaty crewmen and pressed up an equally feverish body - it’s basically the porn equivalent of a fuckin’ barbecue party.

Yeah, no thanks. You’d rather be at home, with the air conditioner at full blast, nestled in the comfy cushions of your sofa as you marathon a series of your choice on netflix. Only the promised sum of money keeps you from bolting and calling it quits altogether.

“So when are you gonna drop the new boy toy?” a voice buzzes in your ear not unlike a pesky fly.

Tempting as it is to ignore it, you peel your eyes away from your reflection just in time to catch Seokjin shoot you the most unimpressed look in his repertoire, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched in judgment.

In the background, an old ceiling fan whirs on but does nothing to cool you off. If anything, its constant rattling only exacerbates your growing headache.

“What are you talking about?" You flick a piece of imaginary lint off your dressing robe, your tone neutral.

Seokjin’s brown eyes see right through your feigned air of indifference. Months of working by your side have made him an expert at reading your body language, be it naked or clothed. A wolfish grin adorns his face as he swoops in for the kill.

“Oh come on. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Jongmin. He’s short - comes up to right about here.” Seokjin holds a hand up to his chest to illustrate his point, deliberately shaving off a few inches off your boyfriend’s height in order to antagonize you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, careful not to spit out the retort that’s perched on the tip of your tongue. It takes a great deal of effort to unclench the muscles in your jaw but you manage to school your features into an expression of polite confusion.

Seokjin frowns, dissatisfied with your lack of response. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that he’s currently thinking of new ways to provoke you.

When the silence stretches on and he’s yet to riposte, you allow yourself  to relax again, believing that he’s given up on being an asshole.

To your chagrin, you’re sorely mistaken. The last of your self-restraint is finally put to the test as his next words do nothing to quell your irritation.

“Jongmin.” He repeats slowly, like you need it spelled out for you. “He follows you around everywhere like a lap dog. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so, you know, pathetic.”

“His name is Jimin,” you correct for the nth time.

Instantly, you reprimand yourself for playing into his games and granting him the attention he so craves. Fulfilling his twisted desire is the last thing you hope to achieve. Staying silent would be the sensible thing to do but your brain completely bypasses the memo. The moment your mouth opens it’s impossible to quash the urge to justify yourself.

Maybe it’s your pride coming into play. Maybe it’s Seokjin’s uncanny ability to get under anyone’s skin at will. Whatever the case may be, you stammer out, on the defensive, “And he’s not my 'boy toy'. We - it’s not - we’re dating.” But the word feels like a weight on your tongue. You swallow.

The statement earns you a scoff of incredulity. “Dating? Him?”

You finally set your phone down and aim a glare his way, abandoning all pretense at being indifferent because—Jesus. Is the idea of you dating that unfathomable? He’s never been this worked up over any of your other relationships. Granted, none of them have ever lasted this long but is it really any of his business who you choose to see in your free time?

“I don’t get what your problem is. What’s so wrong with me dating?”

“Have you seen who you’re dating?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

While this isn’t the first time your agent lets a judgmental comment slip from between his pearly white teeth, it’s usually not laced with spite. Seokjin is never outright hostile, preferring sweet words of manipulation and thinly-veiled insults to shows of aggression. The attempt to get a rise out of you does not go by unnoticed. His anger, this time, feels personal.

You wrack your brain, quickly sifting through your recent memories to try and figure out why he’s chosen to be such an ass today. You’re certain that you’ve filled out all the necessary paperwork required to proceed with today’s filming, and yes, after thinking it over, you know that you went to the obligatory medical checkup last week. So there really is no reason for him to bitch at you unless—

The proverbial light bulb flickers on and it all suddenly makes sense.

You’re willing to bet a hefty sum of money that the high-paying gig you turned down two weekends ago is to blame for his abnormal crotchety behavior.

Yes, that would explain it.

Due to Seokjin's well-known propensity to hold a grudge for longer than average, the odds that he’s still hung up over the lost deal are pretty high. And as much as his disappointment and frustration are understandable from a business standpoint, you don’t appreciate being used as a verbal punching bag for him to expel all those pent-up feelings.

Seokjin hums, a knowing smirk pulling the sides of his mouth upwards. Fleetingly, and not for the first time, you find it a shame that his cockiness tarnishes his otherwise handsome face. “I give it another couple of days until you get bored. How long has this gone on for? A month? How are you not yanking out your hair from the sheer boredom of dating...that."

A muscle in your jaw ticks.

“He’s not Voldemort, you coward. Would it honestly kill you to say his name?” Seokjin’s expression begs to differ. You cut him off before he can add fuel to the fire. “And I won’t get bored. Jimin’s - he’s a perfectly nice guy. We’ve been seeing each other just fine—not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Yes, he’s nice,” Seokjin concedes easily, brushing off any attempts at putting an end to the conversation. He grins, wide and smug, like he knows you can’t refute what he’ll say next. “Perfectly nice and boring. The kind of guy you’d bring back home if your parents were straight-laced folks that wanted to marry you off to a choir boy. Seriously, how the fuck did a guy like him end up in the porn industry? He belongs in a church or, I dunno, maybe some neighborhood book club - not behind a camera filming you getting flogged by a daddy dom.”

You sniff. “Just because he tucks his shirts in doesn’t—”

“It’s not just the shirts, honey.” He leans over to pat your hand in a gesture of consolation. Used to his antics, his attempt is easily blocked by a swat of your hand.

You muster the dirtiest look you’re capable of, the kind of look that sends men to early graves, but he simply smiles in response, completely unfazed.

Any person with the minimum amount of tact would know to politely change the subject. It’s unfortunate that your agent does not belong to that pool of individuals, choosing instead to be selectively blind to overt social cues.

He continues on, unperturbed, like he has a point to prove. “Believe it or not, I know you. Sometimes, for whatever reason, perhaps a lapse in judgement but who the fuck knows, you like to venture out of your comfort zone and experiment. Like with the chickenshit gingerbread spice concoctions they come out with at Starbucks to celebrate turkey season and Christmas or the cream cheese makis they make for the white crowd who want to eat sushi but don’t like anything other than white rice and seaweed. And, trust me, while I’m all for diversity and broadening your personal experiences, don’t you think there’s a reason why you always go back to your preferred choice of an iced latte with two sugars?”

“Did you just compare Jimin to a gingerbread latte?”

Okay, so admittedly you’ve made some questionable food and beverage choices in the past, but the comparison is a fucking reach. 

“You’re absolutely right." Seokjin gives a firm nod of his head, his expression serious. "Now that you mention it, he’s definitely a vanilla soy. Bland and boring. Targeted towards the middle-aged soccer moms that think veganism is a trend, not a lifestyle. Wants to be a people-pleaser but misses the mark.”

“I didn’t know it was Share Your Unwanted Opinion Time,” you grind out from behind a strained smile. “If I had, I would have said something about your receding hairline earlier.”

It’s a low blow but the way Seokjin’s plump lips curl in displeasure makes the dig worth it. One of his hands automatically shoot up to flatten the bangs that are usually slicked back with copious amounts of gel.

Offended, he spits, “It’s not receding! There’s a difference between premature balding and a bleach job gone wrong.”

"I'm not sure people care to differentiate. Looks like a receding hairline to me." You shrug while picking at your nails. “You’re nearing that age, too, so.”

“You just try looking this good at 30. Fucking try.” 

He waits for a reply but your interest has already waned. You scroll through your phone, bored once more.

Seokjin makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at the clear dismissal. You swear you hear him grumble under his breath - something along the lines of never going blonde again - but can’t find it in you to care, not when he’s finally ceased his nagging.

"Filming in twenty!" someone shouts from outside the door.

"They’re running behind schedule," Seokjin notes after glancing down at his gold wristwatch. "How can they take more than an hour to fix the lighting? Tch. Bunch of fuckin’ amateurs."

He aims a glare in your direction as if their incompetence is somehow your fault. 

You have half a mind to glower back but miraculously withhold your sentiments. Admittedly, he isn’t wrong - the team you’re working with today keeps committing blunders even rookies wouldn’t dare perpetrate - but you’d rather get your driving license revoked forever than to acknowledge that Seokjin’s right and inflate his already unnaturally huge ego.

Something heavy plops into your lap. When you look down, the glossy surface of a magazine reflects the harsh lights suspended over the vanity table back at you.

“I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice,” he says in response to your look of confusion.

“What’s this?”

You hold up the magazine expecting the worst. It’s heavy in your hands, the pages thicker than the gossip rags you’d find in a dentist’s waiting room. 

“’s the newest issue. Came out this morning. I’d actually like it back once you’re done because I haven’t finished reading it and God knows how hard it was to get my—hey, you can stop flicking aimlessly, I saved you the trouble and bookmarked the page,” Seokjin explains a bit impatiently.

When you shoot him a glance, his attention is trained on your face, not the magazine. He barely blinks. Like a snake honing in on its prey. And that kind of intense focus - that can’t be good. After all, you’ve known Seokjin long enough to suspect that whatever trick he has up his sleeve will give him the advantage he needs to deliver the killing blow.

Gingerly, you flip through the pages like you’re afraid the magazine might self-destruct in your hands. Which would be a waste, in your opinion, since Exquis is a damn good magazine - perhaps less intellectual than Playboy, but definitely classier than Hustler. Its reputation speaks for itself. Known for hiring the best photographers and carefully combing through their models, it’s selective, only picking the cream of the cr—

Everything around you stills.

Your eyes narrow at the spread because there, on the page Seokjin’s taken great care to bookmark, a model poses provocatively on a lounge chaise near a crystal clear pool. It’s similar to a shoot you’ve done in the past but you can tell right away that the quality of this is above and beyond anything you’ve ever done. The lighting is better, heck even the barely-there-swimsuit looks like it costs ten times more than whatever you had been told to throw on at the time.

The vexation you feel only worsens once it finally registers who the model is. Her youthful and pretty face carries a permanent haughtiness that not even makeup or acting can entirely mask.

The pages crease in your hold as you flick through the rest of the spread dedicated to the up and coming talents. With every new page that has her plastered on its glossy surface you feel your stomach sink. 

2...3...4...

“Five pages,” you curse under your breath. For a magazine this renowned, it’s...a lot. Commendable, even. Your nose crinkles. “Well, fuck. me. sideways.”

Seokjin gloats, reveling in your outrage. “Hmph. I told you, didn’t I? Passing up the opportunity to work with Kim Namjoon would come and bite you in the ass.”

“Aha! So you have been a little bitch because I refused to shoot with Namjoon.” You whirl around in your chair and use the magazine to jab him in the chest. He easily steps aside, avoiding your attempt at wrinkling his trademark Armani button-down shirt.

“It was the chance of a lifetime and you knew it.” He turns his nose up and sniffs.

“That’s what you said about filming with Min Yoongi last month.” You roll your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously if you’re gonna say the same thing every time a new guy shows up.”

“Shooting with Agust D did help you gain some mainstream popularity. You’ve gotten love calls for catalog printings and your name is now automatically on the invite sheet for every C-list event in town. Namjoon would have given you another needed boost.” Seokjin folds his arms, lecturing mode switched on. You struggle with the instinctive urge to tune him out. “Sure, he’s got a niche audience, but he’s famous in his field and it would have helped expand your fa—“

“Not to kink shame or anything because we don’t do that, but Namjoon is a freak. And don’t deny it, I’ve seen his videos.”

“He’s specialized in particular—“

“You were the one telling me not to film all sorts of shit right off the bat,” you cut in, refusing to back down from your stance. There’s no way you’ll let him sweet-talk you out of this one, not after the multiple videos of Namjoon you’d binged one weekend. “Stick to one story.”

“Well, we’re not exactly ‘right off the bat’ anymore, are we? We’ve passed that stage. Right now is a crucial time in your career so you’ve got to make it count. Filming rehashed videos of the same pizza delivery guy scenario gets boring and fast. As pretty as you are, you’re not offering anything new to the table, are you?”

Fuck him. He’s right and you know it. 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.

Still. “I refuse to work with a guy whose porn alias is Cock Monster.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well I said no,” you insist stubbornly.

“Well if you had said yes, maybe it would be your ass cheeks getting their own two page spread in Exquis instead,” jabs Seokjin, hitting you where it hurts. 

Ugh. The reminder that Joy’s bested you yet again riles you up even more. That, coupled with the likelihood of your career ending imminently, makes you stop and think.

Your agent goes on to say, “Don’t you want the AVN for best newcomer? Where did that competitive edge go? At the rate this is going, Joy’s going to steal it from right under your nose.”

“Like fucking hell,” you hiss. The magazine bends under the strength of your grip. “That one’s mine.”

You absolutely refuse to lose out to her. Every fiber of your being rejects the idea of letting her one-up you again.

“Not if you don’t start branching out. The last time you did anything substantial or interesting was about a month ago. It’s already old news. People are going to forget you shot that sequence altogether if you don’t do anything that puts you back on the map.”

A pause. “…I really don’t want to film with someone who willingly named himself Cock Mons—”

“Fine.” Seokjin heaves a resigned sigh. “You don’t have to fuck the monster willy. Willy monster? Hm. Wouldn’t it make more sense to name himself Monster Cock and not Cock Monster? Wonder why he does th—”

You suppress a snort. “Please spare me while you can. It’s amazing, that talent for making everything sound a lot worse than it already it is.”

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“You trying to insult someone who’s willing to find you someone else to work with? I can always ask Monster Meatstick if he’s up for—”

“No! No, that’s - not necessary.” You force out a smile that wouldn’t fool anyone into thinking its genuine. “Why would I ever insult you? You’re the best agent one could ask for.”

“That’s what I thought.” He takes your compliment, forced or not. When he smiles, smugness rolls off of him in waves. “One day you’ll realize you’re taking my talent for granted. I’ll find you another onscreen partner even though you don’t know what you’re missing out.”

“Thank you.”

“But!” He interjects and this time you don’t bother swallowing down your groan, already dreading the stipulations he has in store for you. “You have to promise to hold up your end of the bargain and try your best.”

Indignation colors your face. Your mouth falls open, retort at the ready. “When do I ever slack off on the job?! I’ve never given a half-assed blowjob in my life - and trust me, the temptation was there. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when the guy can’t cum on command? I once had to get my jaw realigned.”

“I’m not saying you’re slacking off,” he backtracks, switching tactics. His expression is soon replaced by the business-like smile you’re used to seeing on the regular. Tone buttery and appeasing, he tries to convince you through flattery instead. “You work hard and do a good job… I wouldn’t have signed you on otherwise. The problem isn’t with the quality of your work but with - all the rest.”

“The rest?” you parrot back dumbly, trying and failing to comprehend.

Seokjin scowl returns, unable to keep his genuine emotions under wraps.

“D’you honestly think you’re at a point in your career where you can pick and choose your jobs like this? Ever since you started dating that - that thing - your workload has significantly decreased. And not because you lacked opportunities. You had them but you turned them all down.” Visibly getting worked up over the issue, his voice rises an octave, then two. “What should’ve been a good spring board, only brought you back to square one. I know I can’t force you to take jobs if you refuse to, but I can say that your potential is going to waste. I’ve never seen someone sabotage herself like this before and it’s driving me up the wall. While I get that you’re under the delusion that you’ve found true love or whatever Disney fantasy Jungmin has sold you, you can’t turn down projects over and over again without there being serious repercussions. You’re smart enough to know this. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Seokjin’s chest heaves as he takes in several big gulps of air, visibly out of breath after his monologue.

For him to explode like popcorn kennels in the microwave... You reckon he’d let his feelings pile up inside him for a while, silently stewing.

You’ve never seen your agent look so visibly distressed. He’s normally the picture-perfect image of composure so the sight that greets you is enough of a shock to render you speechless.

Deep down, Seokjin probably means well. There aren’t a lot of agents like him; you’re one of the lucky ones. Most girls are discarded by their agencies as quickly as used tissues once they get milked for all their worth. 

Thankfully it’s never been that way with Seokjin. He claims that he’s in it for the long run. According to him the quick buck isn’t worth seeing the light die out in girl after girl. Perhaps that’s why he takes the task of ensuring your safety so seriously. How many times has he warned you to steer clear of this or that seedy director or ban you from attending drug-heavy parties? While his behavior can come off as overbearing on the worst days, at least he cares.

Sadly, it’s more than you can say for most.

In a way, he’s the only one in this business rooting for your success—if only because his paycheck depends on how well you perform. You like to pretend there’s more to it than that.

“I’m not - what’s Jimin got to do with any of this?” you splutter, still digesting the long tirade you’ve just been subjected to. 

“Are you serious? That’s all you got from what I said?”

“Well, no, but I still fail to—”

“Do you think me a fool?” He crosses his arms tightly across his broad chest. “The only scenes you’re willing to shoot are when he’s on set. Are you a kid or something? Since when do you need supervision to shoot a sex scene?”

“N-no. It just worked out that way, okay?” In reply to his dubious expression, you force yourself to explain. “Okay, okay - I get it. Maybe I might’ve lessened my workload recently but it has nothing to do with Jimin, alright? My vagina needs rest from time to time. Just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I don’t need a break. I’m human too, not some blow-up doll.”

“You expect me to believe that he has nothing to do with it? You were perfectly fine before he entered the picture. And now that you’re all loved up you only pick—”

A knock, so timid you barely catch it, cuts off the rest of his sentence.

“Yeah? Come in, I’m decent!” you yell - not that you care whether someone sees you naked or not. The concept of modesty has long been lost on you. Some might call it shamelessness or vanity, but you take pride in how you look. And why wouldn’t you? Your body is your bread and butter. You spend hours in the gym every week so that your ass looks good no matter what camera angle.

“It’s me.”

The door opens a crack and the speaker tentatively sticks his mop of hair through the small opening. As soon as you recognize him, your heart leaps at the sight and you quickly tighten your robe together.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

You resist the urge to throttle him and plaster on your brightest smile instead.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry I took so long... I would’ve come earlier but they needed my help.” Jimin scratches a spot behind his ear, sheepish. “Someone tripped over the cables and smashed a camera lens so we had to find a replacement. The director threw a fit and wanted to call it quits so we’ve been trying to calm him down this entire time. He did - eventually, anyway, after he called his dealer on set.”

A disapproving frown tugs at his mouth corners and mars his otherwise perfect appearance.

You take a moment to swoon internally. You’ll never get tired of admiring your boyfriend. Unlike the majority of the on-set personnel, he doesn’t reek of weed or booze or stale cigarette smoke. His ironed clothes and immaculate appearance always make it easy to spot him amidst the hungover crew.

“That’s fine! I kept myself busy.”

Jimin returns your smile, his eyes creasing into beautiful half-moon crescents. You don’t know what kind of love-struck expression covers your face but next to you Seokjin makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a gag and a cough.

“Oh! Here, I brought snacks. I didn’t know what you liked so I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on.” He holds up a paper plate stacked with treats no doubt stolen from the catering service. “I know I kind of went overboard but I wanted to make sure you kept your sugar level up.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you coo, reaching to take the plate from him. He’s piled on the sweets so high that it’s a miracle nothing has toppled over yet. You aren’t especially hungry but take a bite out of a chocolate candy to show how much you appreciate the effort. Its gooey consistency melts on your tongue, the taste so sweet it sticks to your teeth.

“How adorable,” chimes in Seokjin, his hand grabbing a licorice stick from the mountain of candy before you can swat him away. “Thanks Jongmin.”

“Jimin,” he corrects good-naturedly, his smile not budging an inch. You think, privately, that’s what you like the most about him. Not many have the ability to block out Seokjin’s bullshit so effectively.

“Mmh,” your manager says around a mouthful of candy. “Seokjin. Pleasure.”

You elbow him while gritting your teeth. “Can you...give us a moment?”

Seokjin swallows down the treat and opens his mouth in protest. He has the audacity to look betrayed. “You’re kicking me out of our room so the two of you can get it on? Really?” 

Jimin’s cheeks flush and you quickly cut in before your agent can make matters worse.

"I just want to talk without you breathing down my neck. Weren’t you going off earlier about how I didn’t need adult supervision anymore? Well?”

“Fine. Fine! But you owe me. Again.” He grabs his portable phone charger from the vanity table before making his exit. “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

What a fucking drama queen. You have no idea why he always insists on making a scene when you know for a fact that he would’ve left of his own volition in five minutes anyway. For reasons he has no trouble disclosing, he can’t stand Jimin’s presence.

“I won’t,” you grumble just so that you can get him out of your hair faster.

The door slams shut with more force than strictly necessary. Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before Jimin turns his warm gaze towards you.

“What was that about?” 

“Uh, nothing. You know how he is...” You play with the ends of your braided hair. “He can’t go very long without throwing a tantrum.’

“He seems very protective of you,” remarks Jimin, a thoughtful expression painting his angelic face. “I think that’s why he’s not that fond of me.”

“Nonsense,” you rebut immediately as you take his hands in yours. “Who could ever not like you?”

Jimin allows his lips to quirk into a small, self-deprecating smile that you promptly erase with a kiss. His lips feel pillow-soft against yours, and you let yoruself indulge in the feeling before pulling back.

You sigh, remembering the scene you’ve yet to film. “If only my co-star was you.”

He laughs at that. “Seokjin would probably throw a fit, huh?”

.

.

Jimin treats you to dinner that night.

He chooses the restaurant. It’s a small, quaint place, tucked into a hidden corner just minutes away from the bustling main street of the shopping district. It’s not the kind of place people stumble across by accident but judging by the occupied tables, business is doing fine by reputation alone.

The owner comes out to greet Jimin by name. They exchange warm greetings, the woman asking him how his brother’s been doing and whether he’ll stop by anytime soon.

“Ah - I’m not sure... You know how he is... I’ll let him know you said hi.”

“Tell him I’ll give him an extra serving of ribs. That was his favorite, right?”

When her eyes trail over Jimin’s shoulder and spot you, she grins so wide you’d think she won the lottery or something. “Park Jimin! You’ve gone and found a girlfriend! And so pretty, too. Ah, really...time sure flies by. I remember when you first started coming here - and now!”

You smile back, greeting her with a polite handshake. The owner is quick to usher you into a small booth in the back. She hands you the menus while patting Jimin on his shoulder. “I’ll get you drinks. It’s on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that!” protests Jimin, shaking his head. “Really. It’s not—”

“Nonsense.” She waves a hand at him. “You’ll get two more if you keep that up, Park Jimin.”

Once she knows she’s earned Jimin’s compliance, she leaves with a satisfied smile. You can tell by their genuine interactions that she’s close to Jimin. Family, perhaps? Either way, this isn’t a place Jimin tracked down on yelp. He flips through the menu with ease, like he’s done it hundreds of times before. 

“Sorry about that,” he says once she’s out of earshot. “I used to come here all the time with my family when we all still lived here. They moved and live in a different town now so we haven’t had a meal together here in years, but. I still come here. The food is good, of course, but - I dunno. I have good memories here so I thought I’d share it with you. It sounds stupid now.”

He laughs quietly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. 

“I love it.” You can’t help but smile, cheeks hurting from the force of it. Invisible liquor runs through your bloodstream, a ball of warmth unfurling in your belly. “Thank you.”

A pause ensues. It’s one of those moments in which you’re unsure if you’ve said too much or not enough. Being here with Jimin means a lot. You’re not the most verbose person but you hope that Jimin can feel your sincerity.

Maybe your stare comes off as too intense because Jimin breaks the eye contact and clears his throat.

He fiddles with his earring and says, “The food is really good!”

Pink dots his cheeks as he attempts to change the subject. “I don’t know how long the place has been around for but the food is exactly the same. Apparently it’s the sauce they use? Auntie still won’t share the recipes with me and I’ve known her since I was a kid.”

He chatters on, gaining confidence when he notices you’re not put off or bored by his numerous anecdotes. As time passes by, he’s visibly more relaxed. His laugh is more natural, less restrained, like he’s using all the muscles in his face and not just the ones near his mouth.

It’s a stark difference from the first date, you think. Back then he had come off as quite shy, preferring to let you lead the conversation, only offering up tidbits from time to time. Now the conversation flows easily. Nothing feels forced or awkward and - it’s nice. The normalcy of it. Like a hot cup of tea before bed or the scent of the fabric softener your mother uses. It’s something you find comfort in, that you can see yourself coming back to and not growing tired of.

Seokjin can say what he wants - that Jimin’s too uninteresting, that you’re too mismatched of a couple - whatever. 

Jimin likes you for you.

When you’re out on dates or when the two of you talk on the phone late into the evening, he rarely brings up your job. Instead, he asks you questions about your favorite TV shows, your dipping sauce preferences, the first album you purchased. These small details might seem inconsequential to others but to you, they’re a welcome breath of fresh air.

For all the talks of Jimin being too average and too normal, men like him are in reality surprisingly hard to come by.

Because what you haven’t failed to notice since you began your career as a porn star is that people love the idea of you. People who avidly watch you from their laptop screen in the comfort of their own home think that you’re some type of sex goddess - that you’re basically up for anything. In their minds, you’re a fun girl who loves sex, all kinds of sex, any kind of sex, and who doesn’t have any qualities or attributes other than making people cum until their limbs go numb.

Your feelings? Not really important. Feelings would make you human and being human would ruin their favorite fantasy.

That’s what takes you a while to learn - you don’t get paid to have sex, you get paid to sell dreams.

It doesn’t bother you at first. In a way, you think, it’s like acting. The porn star people jerk off to daily is a character you play, a mask you can take off at your leisure once the camera director yells ‘cut!’.

Very quickly, you learn people don’t share the same sentiment. To them, the line that distinguishes you from your job persona isn’t blurry - it simply doesn’t exist.

In the beginning, you’d stayed optimistic. Once people get to know you past the image they’ve built up in their heads, surely they’ll realize you’re not a sex-craved addict who only has dick on the brain, right? But with every new date you accept to go on, the reality of your situation only leaves room for disappointment and barely reigned in revulsion.

Even in non-romantic situations, people let you down. Old classmates, neighbors... It pisses you off that they assume you have no self-worth just because you’re a sex worker. Stevie from 308 down the hall once tried throwing crumpled bills at you, expecting you to crawl over to him for a fifty. The memory is enough to set your blood boiling. You can’t wait until you earn big enough bucks to move out of your shitty apartment into a nice high-rise penthouse, away and above all the scum of the Earth.

“You okay?” asks Jimin, noticing the crease that burrows your brow. “The food alright?”

You blink several times, belatedly realizing you had zoned out. Guilt and embarrassment well up within you.

“M’yeah,” you swallow down the spoonful of stew stuffed in your mouth. “Sorry.”

Jimin chews his bottom lip. Finally, he settles with, “Tell me if I’m boring you.”

“No, no! You’re not.” His evident doubt does nothing to alleviate the sudden nausea swarming your lower belly. “I’m serious, Jimin. I’m - Sorry if I gave off that impression. I just - I have a lot on my mind but you’re lovely. I’d tell you if you were - you know. Promise.”

“Would you? Sometimes I think you’re too nice.” It’s not delivered as an insult, but it doesn’t exactly sound like praise, either. 

You force out a snort. “Heh. Wish you’d tell Seokjin that.”

“He’s not too cross with me, is he?” Jimin’s expression looks awkward, like he’s forcing his facial muscles to stay relaxed and mien nonchalant.

“Wh- oh, you mean because of earlier? He isn’t. That’s not him being angry. It’s not even you. It’s me. We just have - a slight difference in opinions, I suppose. If you can even call it that.”

“He doesn’t want you to date me,” concludes Jimin.

The frustrations you’d repressed earlier in the day come back. Why does Seokjin’s opinion matter? You huff, putting your spoon down.

“He’s not my dad. And even if he was, I’m grown. I can make my own decisions.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it... It’s not like it’s any of his business in the first place.”

“Still...” Jimin says, unsure. “He’s your agent. I wouldn’t want the relation between you to sour because of me.”

“Honestly, I’m convinced it’s not even you he has a problem with. We talked about it today and I think he’s getting antsy because, um, you know, I haven’t accepted any big offers lately. Like, I’m staying too much in my comfort zone or something. He says that in the long run that can be detrimental to my career.”

It’s a bit strange, discussing your work with Jimin. You both work in the same industry, Jimin as a second camera assistant and you as an adult entertainer, but outside of filming sets, you rarely acknowledge what the other person does for a living.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He wants me to branch out and try new things.”

“What, you mean anal? Gangbangs?”

“Um, yeah. All that, probably...” You have to blink several times because of the shock of hearing Jimin say that so casually. “...Is that okay?”

“Huh?” Jimin in turn blinks at you, like your question doesn’t properly register. “Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine with it. You said it’ll be good for your career?”

“Apparently.”

“Then, yeah.” He shrugs like he isn’t bothered by the news at all. “Of course that’s okay.”

A part of you wants to push the issue, ask him why he’d be fine with his girlfriend filming intense sex scenes with random men, but that inner voice is snuffed out before the poisonous thought has time to take root.

Isn’t this what you always wanted? A boyfriend who is accepting and understanding of your profession?

You wash down your worries with a gulp or two of soju, determined not to let your own insecurities ruin the rest of your night.

.

.

Less than 24 hours after you’ve agreed to work on a worthwhile project of Seokjin’s choosing, a slew of texts blow up your phone. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s your agent. A quick scroll through your phone reveals that your agent has left you with no less than 15 messages, 1 voicemail, and 3 e-mails.

It’s...a lot. You’ve grown to expect that kind of fanfare with him. Like any man who deals with legally binding contracts on a daily basis, Seokjin ensures that you keep your word. He can be extremely persuasive when he sets his mind to it. You’ve seen men and women alike succumb to the force of his magnetism. Back when your filmography had solely consisted of amateur sex tapes shot in bad lighting with low-grade filming equipment, Seokjin's charms alone had been sufficient to win over lukewarm casting directors and book you jobs.

SEOKJIN : hey!!!!!!!!

SEOKJIN : ???

SEOKJIN : wow. you’re leaving me on read.........the audacity. 

SEOKJIN : i raised you on my back and this is how you repay me?

SEOKJIN : do you not respect your elders in your household?

SEOKJIN : i swear if you’re blowing me off for jimmy instead of answering your calls .........

SEOKJIN : or blowing jimmy. either one.

SEOKJIN : ok it’s been 10 min. i’m chill but not that chill.

SEOKJIN : can you please stop sucking dick and read your emails. it’s important.

YOU : ever heard of multitasking? god gave us two hands for a reason

SEOKJIN : oh. nasty.

SEOKJIN : way to ruin my lunch.

SEOKJIN : well. suck down that nut sauce asap

SEOKJIN : cos what i sent you needs your undivided attention

YOU : i’m nasty?? me????

YOU : you don’t hear me saying nUT SAUCE you freak

SEOKJIN : nutté sauce

SEOKJIN : there. fixed it.

YOU : ...that’s not even a thing

SEOKJIN : well it should be!

SEOKJIN : adding accents makes it instantly classier, don’t you think? nutté sauce. has a nice ring to it.

SEOKJIN : honestly. sounds like some fancy four star french starter now.

YOU : ???? it absolutely doesn’t but ok

SEOKJIN : imagine. during a scene you just yell out

SEOKJIN : “i’d like a serving of your nutté sauce to go”

YOU : dicks would shrivel up on the spot

SEOKJIN : what? i think it’s brilliant!

SEOKJIN : my talent is wasted as an agent. should’ve been a scriptwriter instead.

YOU : yes i’m sure the oscars are weeping over the missed opportunity

He takes your sarcasm at face value, feeding you more ridiculous variants of faux french cum lingo—that which you very wisely choose not to reply to. Instead of humoring him, you open the .pdf file he’s sent your way, ignoring the near-constant buzzing of your phone as he’s no doubt pestering you for an immediate answer.

Had it not been necessary for business, you’d have blocked his number ages ago. In fact, after that nut sauce comment you’re seriously reconsidering, business obligations be damned. 

To his credit, the film project he suggests you work on doesn't sound half-bad despite its questionable title. Why anyone would choose to name it THE SPERMINATOR is beyond you.

As you read through the proposition, you’re surprised to find it’s tamer than the initial imaginary scenario you’d played out in your head. Expecting to read through a long list of unnameable kinks and dicks, the scene description is rather domestic all things considered.

Your shoulders sag in relief. You enjoy sex as much as the next person, but even you have limits you’re not willing or eager to cross. You’re a human being, first and foremost, and, contrary to popular belief, not competing in the sex olympics.

From what you’ve read so far, nothing in Seokjin’s offer seems too strenuous or perverse. The scene in question is centered around a young, newly married couple trying to conceive for the first time and the sex acts are described as “romantic insemination” - whatever the fuck that means. The only complication you can think of is that you’ve never played the part of a married couple before. None of your previous films specifically target couples or women. Is romance something you can sell accordingly?

You’re quick to shake the concern off once you remember that no one cares if your acting is shit or not. All you probably have to do is yell out ‘Daddy’ a few times mid-thrust and call it a day.

Honestly, you’re a bit disappointed in Seokjin for choosing such a safe, no-risk project - especially since he constantly advocates the risk-return trade off as the way to live by. But you’re not about to start complaining. You’d rather shoot this type of innocuous scenario than ridiculous, hentai-like scenes involving freakish get-ups and toys of monster proportions not realistically made to fit in a vagina.

The deal is perfect. Almost too perfect.

Subconsciously, you must realize something is wrong. Maybe Seokjin’s many lessons have finally rubbed off on you because there’s a persistent voice in your ear warning you that the film proposition is a trap, one that you’ve unfortunately walked straight into.

Your wariness increases when he refuses to send you the script upon request. Alarm bells ring off but by then it’s too late.

“The thing is... Director Ryu wants to try a new type of project," Seokjin says over the phone once you call him up for answers. "He thinks he’s going to pioneer a new genre of porn and revolutionize the industry - his words, not mine.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“How do I explain this without you getting the wrong idea..."

“Is this meant to reassure me?!” Dread drips from your tone. You should’ve suspected something was off from the very moment Seokjin suggested to shoot vanilla porn as your next big project. What a joke.

“Calm down, it's not as bad as - whatever you're thinking.” Too bad that his attempts to calm you down have the opposite effect. “He’s been wanting to try out a new improvisation format for his porn movies.”

“Come again?”

A beat of uncomfortable quiet passes. Reluctantly, Seokjin explains, “Which means - there isn’t an actual script to go off of. That’s why I couldn’t send it to you - because there is none. He wants it to be as realistic and natural as possible so he’s looking for actors who can go with their gut and create their own scenario instead of ones who need to be directed.”

Your resounding silence speaks for itself.

Sure, sometimes they provide scripts to act as guidelines, roughly giving the actor an idea of how the scene will unfold, but no one is expected to follow it word for word. Most porn films rely on improvisation rather than scripts because of how notoriously bad porn stars are at acting and memorizing more than a few lines at a time, and the introduction scene never lasts very long anyway for it to make a noticeable difference. Besides, after filming a handful of movies, you’ve noticed the dialogue is more or less all the same.

What bothers you is that this director wants you to carry out a movie that relies heavily on improvised dialogue. Convincingly.

“C’mon,” Seokjin tries when you refuse to deign him with an answer. “It’ll be fun. You like acting, right?”

“Seokjin...” You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to keep your composure in check. “How do I break this down for you? I think you’re forgetting the most crucial detail here - I can’t act! The closest I've ever gotten to acting is faking an orgasm and I’m pretty certain that doesn’t count."

“And you do that very well!" says Seokjin encouragingly. "You'll be fine. Don’t stress over it. Your scenes with Min Yoongi last time were perfectly acceptable!”

“That’s the thing.” Stress makes your voice raise a half-step. “He did, like, 90% of the acting! Back then, all I had to do was moan and act like a slut! Which hardly counts - I was being myself. Whatever this - thing - you’re attempting to rope me into - I’m not qualified for it.”

“Sweetheart, we’re not aiming for the fucking Oscars here.” When he laughs, it’s practiced enough to sound sincere. “At the end of the day, it’s still porn. Nobody’s expecting you to be the next Meryl. And besides,” he presses on, clearly refusing to change his mind. “This is exactly what you need right now. Something fresh, something new. If you pull this off, you’ll gain exposure.”

“If I pull it off. Big if."

“I know it sounds like a gamble. I get it, I do. But remember what I always say? High risk—”

“Yes, yes. High reward. I get it.” Your frown deepens. “There’s no way to know this will work, though.”

“A good co-star already guarantees you half of the success. And luckily for you, the guy they signed on seems like the real deal. He’s hot, you’re hot. People will pay money to see you two fuck regardless of how good or bad the acting is.”

“Well. That’s reassuring,” you say, voice as flat as a board. “Although I suppose watching porn on mute is always an option if it comes to that.”

“It was a joke!” What worries you is that it doesn’t sound like it is. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen some of your co-star’s tapes. He’s got a mouth on him, if you know what I mean. Just let him lead and it’ll go swimmingly.”

“It’s one thing to follow someone’s lead during sex but you want me to - to improvise for God knows how long! That’s just asking for a disaster to happen.”

“You said you were up for a challenge!” Seokjin throws your words back at you, his tone accusing.

“And you said this would be beneficial for my career! How is making a fool out of myself going to help me any? I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who can’t act to save her life.” You want to cry in frustration. If you had wanted to act you would’ve chosen that as your major in college. “I don’t - I can’t do this. I’m not - this isn’t what I signed up for! How do you expect me to convince viewers what they’re watching is real...”

“Just—” Exasperated, he takes a deep breath. Exhales. “Trust me. When have I ever been wrong about film projects.”

Is putting your career at risk really worth it? You’re not sure anymore.

On the bright side, it’ll finally get Seokjin off your back, you reason, trying to remain positive. That in itself is worth celebrating, right?

Fine. You’ll agree to it out of pettiness. Once Seokjin realizes what a terrible idea this entire ordeal is, you won’t hesitate to rub it back in his face. He’ll never hear the end of it.

"Who am I working with, anyway?”

"Ah, hm, well." Hesitation creeps up his voice for the first time, putting you instantly on edge. "...You won't know him. He's new to the scene - got started a month or two ago, I forget."

"Great. Not only am I being used as a lab rat for this director to experiment on but you're also pairing me with a fucking rookie. Jesus.”

"He’s not half bad! He’s not bad at all, actually. I wouldn't be insisting if I didn't trust him not to blow his load early."

"Aren’t I lucky,” you deadpan. “So I don't have to worry about him busting a nut before the director gives the signal?"

“All you’ll have to do is act like a married couple with baby fever,” he talks over you, ignoring your overflowing sarcasm. “And how hard can that be? You’ve been loved up with Jumin for a month now - that’s plenty enough practice if you ask me. I know you’ll be able to sell that romantic shit to the public without too much trouble.”

“It’s Jimin,” you correct from force of habit.

You’re promptly ignored — not that you expected anything less from him.

"Just give it a thought? And get back to me when you make up your mind. The sooner the better. The offer won't stay on the table forever." Even over the line, you can picture Seokjin raising his eyebrows at you, expectant. “If you’re serious about this job, you know what you have to do.”

You both know that you’ll accept the offer. Seokjin’s got you all figured out. As much as you don’t like being pushed around, the need to prove yourself is your main driving factor. The acquaintances who sneer at you, the family members who’ve shun you, the peers who expect you to burn out after the five month mark—you’d rather roll over and die than prove their misconceptions right.

It’s a matter of pride when you sniff and reply, “I’ll think about it.”

But the decision is already made before the call ends.

.

.

SCENE 02 - THE SPERMINATOR. TAKE 02. ROLL B. 

.

Eight days later you find yourself squeezed into a brazenly short dress that zips in the front, more fit for a night out in a club than a dinner at home. It’s so ridiculously tight, you feel like a prey being swallowed down by a snake. There’s no room to breathe. You can’t wait for the scene to start, if only so you can dispose of the piece of fabric and never wear it again.

Unfortunately, your outfit gets worse because thrown over the clubbing attire is a frilly apron with small hearts embroidered along the hem. The mismatch is jarring. You’re not sure what look the stylist is going for but the end result is very...peculiar.

You comfort yourself with the knowledge that it could always be worse.

A quick glance at the digital clock on your phone confirms that you’re running on time. Good. After your last gig, the last thing you want is to spend hours waiting for the personnel to set up the cameras and sound equipment correctly.

Thankfully, today’s team works like a well-oiled machine. All that’s left are the last-minute preparations before the shoot begins.

Your false eyelashes are still drying when Seokjin elbows you sharply in the ribs. You crack open an eye to glare at him. “Ouch - ah, seriously? What is it now?”

“That’s him, that’s him!” Seokjin whispers under his breath, his gaze glued to a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. “Wooow. Aren’t you a lucky bitch? I’d gargle his nutté sauce for breakfast, if you get what I mean. He looks way better in person, damn.”

“Firstly - please never say that out loud again.” You fake a gag. “How do I buy myself a new set of ears?”

Seokjin ignores your dramatics. He shoots you a look. “You let that last guy draw a starfish on your face with his crème de la nut but did you hear me go sick?”

“That’s not the same and you know it!” Your jaw drops in indignation. “And can you stop trying to make nut cream a thing for the love of—”

“What’s this about nut cream?”

You whip your head around, mortification already etched onto your features. Your mouth opens, defense at the ready, only for your throat to clamp up.

“Oh.” You blink up in surprise because - well, Seokjin’s earlier assessment isn’t embellished. The guy is fit as fuck.

You’d seen photos in passing, had even googled his name out of curiosity, but the two-dimensional version of him pales to his real life physique. There’s a sharpness to his features that the camera fails to pick up on, a vibrancy that gets lost in the medium. 

“Hey. I’m Hoseok.” His grip is firm, assertive, and your eyes naturally wander over his form. The loose muscle tee he’s thrown on puts his toned arms on display and makes it easier to admire the seemingly endless expanse of sun-kissed skin. He’s neither too thick nor too spindly, his muscles lean and firm instead of bulging. Strong but not intimidating. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You swallow, mouth dry.

You expect him to leave it at that like most of your past co-stars usually do. Or worse - for him to abandon all pretenses and cross lines that aren’t meant to be crossed. As someone who has experienced it all - from standoffish to creepy and vile - nothing surprises you anymore.

But unlike your, admittedly low, expectations, his gaze is warm and friendly. He speaks smoothly, leaving no time for an awkward silence to instill itself.

“Yeah, I know who you are! I saw a video or two of yours before - you were featured on the agency’s main page last month, right? Fuckin’ genius, by the way. Best stuff I’ve seen in a long ass time.” An easy grin sits on his face, nothing about it fake or contrived. “I hope we get along today. I haven’t done much work myself - yet anyway - but I hope this can be a good experience for the both of us.”

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seokjin assures, patting your shoulder like a proud parent. “_____ here is the best talent I’ve signed on.”

“That I can believe,” Hoseok chimes, his smile never waning. “I’ve heard good stuff about you. I won’t lie - it reassured me a fuck ton when I heard I’d be working with you. The stuff we’re doing is, well, it’s a bit of a gamble at this point, but I’m sure it’ll go well because I’ll be working with you.”

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you’re robbed of words, unable to respond to his flattery. From experience, you know to be wary of guys like him. Whenever someone lays it on thick they always have an ulterior motive. But what could possibly be his?

“Seokjin’s saying that because I’m the only one who can stand his nagging,” you finally say, your shoulders stiff. Maybe it’s because you’ve just met, but it’s hard to figure him out and it doesn’t help that you’re naturally wary of strangers.

“Oh hush. You love me.” Sensing how guarded you’ve become, Seokjin mercifully offers you an out. “It was nice meeting you, Hoseok. Wish we could stay and chat but she has to get ready to film the pre-interview portion.”

“Oh yeah, that’s cool. Catch you later.”

You offer a quick smile he returns tenfold, its brightness momentarily dazzling you.

Slightly dazed from the intensity of it, you stagger behind Seokjin, sun spots dotting your vision. Your surroundings blur together as your mind tries to recover from the interaction.

“Sooooooooo?” Seokjin sing-songs once you’ve walked far enough to be out of earshot. His brows are raised knowingly, an infuriating type of smugness clinging to his features. “What did I tell you! He’s hot enough to single-highhandedly melt a glacier, huh?”

You scoff, not willing to admit anything. “He’s okay.”

“Oh c’mon. He’s baby daddy material for sure. Which works out well for you since he’s gonna pump one into you later.”

For once the grimace that crosses your face isn’t exaggerated. “Please. Stop. Talking. I’m this close to heaving out my lunch.”

You’re not even joking with that one. Attractive as Hoseok may be, any talk of baby-making is enough to dissipate any smidgens of lust.

The reminder of what the upcoming scene entails and the expectations people carry crash down on you like a pile of bricks. Although you’ve done your best to ignore the fact you’ll be acting today, the meeting with Hoseok yanks you harshly back to reality.

You’re going to act. As a married couple. Trying to conceive a baby.

Three things that have never, ever been on your bucket list are now about to be crossed out in the span of the same afternoon. To that you can only say - what the fuck is my life.

Like a mounting wave before the inevitable crash, panic crests within you. You feel it gradually build and build, flooding your lungs and every crevice of your body with overwhelming anxiety.

Seokjin sighs. “How are you going to make it through today? The whole point of the sex scene is to get you pregnant. Or fake pregnant. You know what I mean.”

“Um...” You try to laugh but it comes out shaky. Seokjin shoots you a concerned look. “I’ll be fine! Really! I can do it. It’s just acting like you said, right? It’s not like he’s actually gonna knock me up in real life. So. Totally fine. It’s fine. Perfect.”

Seokjin’s concern grows. His eyebrows pinch together and his expression turns serious. He asks with no trace of mockery, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” you reply. It’s too rushed of an answer to convince him. Your palms feel clammy and you wipe them off your damned apron. “Just. Nervous. Y’know.”

His steps slow to a halt and he places a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder. The weight, familiar and comforting, grounds you to reality. “Hey. What’s there to be nervous about? You got this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll trick yourself into believing it. “I’ve got this.”

“Look. Let me be honest for a second. I’ve been an agent for eight years now and I’ve seen a lot of talents come and go. No pun intended.” You smile back at him weakly. “You’ve got something...extra a lot of them lacked. I knew the moment I saw you on film you’d go far. The energy you bring onscreen is insane. I know today might seem new and strange - but so was your first ever professionally shot film, right? And you got through that fine. You’ll do great. I know it. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m always right.”

That earns him a laugh. The nerves are still there but thanks to his pep talk it’s easier to breathe.

Despite being a big pain in the ass, Seokjin is exemplary at his job. Without him, you’re acutely aware you wouldn’t have gotten half as far as you have. Having him by your side is a reassurance in itself.

Someone calls your name, pulling you from your thoughts. When you turn around, you’re face to face with the round, bespectacled face of Director Ryu. You reckon he’s in his early forties but he acts younger than his age. It’s your first time working with him but so far he’s been nice enough, if a little full of himself. Not that you’re unaccustomed with working alongside conceited colleagues.

“Oh good, you’re back. You can get seated for the interview bit.” He points over to a chair placed in front of a pale yellow wall. From close up, you can see a paint job is in order, the old coat chipping off in several places. “Alright, this won’t last long - just need you to answer some questions on tape and we’ll be good to go.”

“Sure thing.” You nod and follow his directions, sitting still while the hair and make-up artist steps up to give your lips a final touch-up.

Strictly speaking, the before and after interviews aren’t a necessity. In your experience, directors mostly film the short question-and-answer sequence when you’re set to film hardcore sex scenes as a way to show viewers everything is consensual and that you thoroughly enjoyed the experience despite whatever might have transpired on screen.

You reckon the director wants to film you today to document the process behind his “groundbreaking film project”. Cue roll of eyes.

Somebody needs to tell him he isn’t inventing anything, you think while watching him fiddle with the camera until he’s completely satisfied with the angle. All he’s done so far is add unnecessary pressure on you. You hope Hoseok is faring better because the amount of performance anxiety you’re experiencing is an instant boner killer.

“You nervous?” the director asks once he’s done adjusting the camera lens.

While by some standards you’re still considered a newbie in the industry, you’ve done this enough times to fall into a routine. Wake-up, breakfast, get ready, arrive before call time, fill out all the paperwork and get ready to shoot your solo stills. It’s familiar enough that you’ve long stopped getting pre-performance jitters.

Today’s rush of anxiety is as surprising as it is unwelcome. They don’t want to hear that particular truth though, so you keep your reply sweet and bubbly.

“Nah,” you grin, wide and easy. “I’m super excited to film today!”

“Oh yeah? Is it perhaps because of your co-star?”

Your smile freezes for a second. Somewhere over the director’s shoulder you can see Seokjin nodding enthusiastically while giving you the double thumbs up. “Hoseok? He’s hot, sure.”

“Ooh. Already on a first name basis?”

“Hm?” you let out a noise of polite confusion, only belatedly realizing that his viewers know him better as his porn alias, J-Hope. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to yell that out loud while he’s fucking an orgasm out of you. Not only does it sound ridiculous but it’ll shatter whatever carefully crafted illusion you manage to build. “Um, yes. We’re getting to know each other. He’s very friendly.”

“I’m sure he is.” And there’s an implication there that doesn’t sit too well with you but thankfully Director Ryu chooses to move on and put that particular subject to rest.

“You ever shoot an insemination scene before?”

“Not yet.” You make sure to keep the smile on your face even if your cheeks are beginning to hurt. “I can’t wait to get to it. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had but never tried out for myself. I’m excited to film a first on camera!”

The director has yet to call you out for your bullshit so you slowly start to relax. Acting is a bit like lying, isn’t it? Maybe you can get through today after all.

You breeze through the rest of the questions, forcing out practiced laughs here and there all whilst keeping your voice syrupy sweet. It’s quick work, especially when you know what to expect. Before you know it, it’s already time to film the pièce de résistance. Everyone that’s allowed on set during filming filters into the kitchen, conversations between crew members dying down as they use their last recreational moments to check their phones.

The director’s filming style exempts you from shooting the customary pre-shoot sex stills which are essentially promotional pictures of you and and your partner in every sex position that you’ll be filming for real later on. You’re thankful for that, at least. Even with all of your on-camera experience, staying perfectly silent and still with someone’s dick inside you is no easy feat. It’s worse when you have to keep eye contact with your co-star and fake sexual gratification because the shot calls for it.

Hoseok waves at you from the other side of the room, the hair and makeup artist dusting some powder across the slope of his nose.

How can he look so relaxed?! You’re barely holding your lunch down. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re able to now tat the butterflies are back in full force, making a mess of your stomach.

You feel queasy but try not to make it too obvious even as Seokjin comes around to check up on you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene, especially when your onscreen counterpart's demeanor is making you look amateurish in comparison.

Maybe Hoseok is a better actor than you’re able to give most porn stars credit for because try as you might, you fail to detect any nervous undercurrent in his tone. For someone who is supposedly starring in his first major project, he doesn’t seem all too bothered about how it might play out.

How does he do it?! In all honesty, if Seokjin hadn’t informed you of his rookie status, you would be none the wiser.

There’s an ease with which he carries himself, a fluidity in his movements that belies no anxiety or awkwardness. Even from this distance you can tell that there’s never a hint of hesitation in his movements or speech; he doesn’t seem self-conscious in the least. He talks and moves with the assurance of someone who has been in the industry for months, not weeks.

In that moment you envy him. You’re so nervous about the upcoming scene that it’s hard to feign an air of professional detachment.

His boisterous laugh is loud enough to carry across the room and interrupt your line of thought. When you look over at him again, you find him folded in half, hands clutching his sides, and wearing a grin so bright it eclipses the entirety of his face.

“He seems nice.”

You jump, startled by Jimin’s sudden appearance. You hadn’t even heard him draw near. With a sheepish expression, you turn to look up at him only to find him already staring off into the distance. There’s a strange look painting his face, and a small crease in his brow that usually isn’t present. When you follow his line of sight, you’re met with the image of Hoseok talking animatedly to the the small crowd that’s flocked around him.

“Yeah.” You aren’t sure what else to say. Although there’s no sarcasm attached to his words, you can’t help but find Jimin unnaturally tense.

Which makes sense, you concede guiltily. A mere stranger is minutes away from dicking down his girlfriend. You’re not sure how you’d feel if you were to stand in his shoes.

You breathe in deep, silently willing away the knot of distress in your belly. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. It’s just a job. A profession that Jimin has always been fully aware of, even before you’d begun dating.

Even as you remind yourself of the facts, it does little to dispel the lingering feelings of doubt and guilt.

“Hey.” Jimin frowns at you in concern. “You alright?”

“Yep!” you say then immediately sigh, knowing that lying to your boyfriend is pointless. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jimin’s worry grows, the crease in his brow deepening. “What about?”

“Just—” You gesture around with your hands. “All of this.”

“Oh.” He looks genuinely surprised. “But you don’t usually get nervous... Is it the impregnation thing you’ll have to do? I know you’ve said you’re not a big fan of that. Or... Is it something else?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. It’s a bit of everything yet at the same time nothing you can clearly pinpoint and put a finger on. In all logic, you know that you’re feeling disproportionately stressed out but you can’t stop yourself from feeling how you feel. “It’s not that I don’t want to film. I just - I’m worried I won’t do well.”

Jimin takes your hand between his, running a thumb in soothing circles across the surface of your skin. He repeats the motion several times until your heartbeat is completely synced to his touch.

“You’ll do great. You always do.” The lines of his mouth bend into a smile. “I’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on.”

“My very own cheerleader.” You allow yourself to relax and and smile back fondly.

As much as you worry about Jimin being upset with you filming sex scenes with other actors, he’s never been anything less than the supporting boyfriend you’ve always dreamed of. Seokjin calls Jimin’s constant presence on set maddening, but you’re thankful that your boyfriend sticks by your side while others might flee or shame you.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the stress, or maybe today you’re more hormonal than usual, but your eyes threaten to well up as you grip his palm tightly in your own. “Jimin, I—”

“Okay, lovebirds!” Seokjin claps his hands once, effectively ruining your moment. “Hand-holding time is over. We’re moving onto the more R-rated stuff.”

“Seokjin!” you hiss, upset over his horrible timing.

“It’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s right, shoot’s about to start anytime soon. I need to get ready, too.”

“Right.”

Reluctantly, you let go of Jimin’s hand.

“Don’t pout.” He laughs and presses a quick, chaste kiss to your mouth. “I’ll wait for you after filming and we can go grab dinner. Italian sound fine?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You bob your head eagerly. “I’m literally dying for carbs. Italian sounds more than perfect.”

“Good.” 

You can’t resist sneaking in one last peck before Jimin retreats behind the cameras and you’re pulled to stand in front of a granite kitchen tabletop. Director Ryu is waiting for you, Hoseok already by his side.

From close-up, your co-star looks even more striking. The make-up artist’s work highlights his features without going overboard. The lines of his face are sharp, like every single one has been meticulously drawn. What usually would give someone a hostile and unapproachable impression is balanced out by the liveliness that lights up his eyes and his wide smile that looks almost too big for his face.

“It’ll start in the kitchen and then we’ll work out way to the bedroom.” Director Ryu points down the hallway. “I was thinking of keeping it all in the bedroom but nothing screams domesticity more than kitchen scenes, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You give a polite nod. Next to you, Hoseok coughs into his fist.

“Depending on how this goes we might have to take several takes - just keep that in mind.”

That’s nothing out of the ordinary. Sex scenes are never filmed in one take. There’s always one thing or another - a smoke break, a flaccid dick, a lighting fixture that needs to be changed. A 45 minute porn movie is the result of the editing team that painstakingly goes through, cuts and assembles hours of footage.

“Remember,” Director Ryu instructs, one hand cocked on his hips. “You’re still stuck in that honeymoon phase. All the two of you want to do is fuck like horny bunnies but your husband’s been away all day. Both of you have been waiting for this reunion for hours and hours. I want to feel that level of tension, got it?”

Hoseok nods like a dutiful student, his expression comically serious. You’d laugh if it wasn’t so inappropriate.

“Yep. Ok. Got it.”

You just want the director to stop talking so that you can get this over with quickly. The monologue is just delaying the inevitable.

Director Ryu spends extra minutes setting up the scene, emphasizing how in love and passionate the two of you should behave, describing how long you’ve been wanting to try for a baby, going into explicit detail about what the sex scenes should convey to the viewers. He just goes on and on and on with no end it sight.

At this point even Hoseok is growing restless. His feet refuse to stay still and his eyes dart around the room as if his attention is drawn elsewhere. It’s Hoseok’s constant fidgeting that draws Director Ryu out of his monologue. He finally senses that there’s a unanimous decision to start filming and retires behind the camera to settle himself in his appointed chair.

Hoseok shares a long look with you. “Is he always like that?”

“God, I hope not.” You lower your voice to whisper, “Seokjin - my agent - he says apparently Director Ryu wanted to make a career off of documentaries once he graduated from film school but quickly switched genres once he saw how little filming the mating habits of koalas was earning him.”

“Ah,” Hoseok nods conspiratorially before his features shift into something more serious. “Hey. Before we start, is there anything you’re not comfortable with? I know this scene is supposed to lean towards vanilla but you never know... I’d rather make sure. Just in case.”

You blink, taken aback. Hard limits aren’t really discussed outside of hardcore scenes. Sure, everyone is given a safeword before shoots begin but even screaming out “STOP!” or “Can we take a break from filming?” is enough to put the filmed scene on hold.

“Ah... No. I’m okay. But thanks for asking.” A moment passes and you add, “Is there - are there any words or kinks that bother you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Not for this one. Just - if there’s anything you’d rather me not say or do, don’t hesitate.”

You nod in reply, not sure of what else to say. Unfortunately your past experiences with men have made you suspicious of any form of flattery or kindness.

Soon, though, you relax. What reason is there for Hoseok to deceive you? Maybe he still has that rookie mindset. You can relate to the eagerness and the desire to do well you’d had in your early days of filming.

“Alright. Good luck, Hoseok.”

His smile is so bright that it erases your previous doubts. Surely someone with ill-intentions wouldn’t be able to smile like that, right? You return a tentative smile of your own. Something akin to understanding seems to pass between you. Although you don’t know Hoseok and he doesn’t know you, you trust him enough for this scene.

The moment is broken when Director Ryu directs Hoseok to wait outside the camera’s line of vision and you’re left alone in front of the kitchen stove.

Any moment now, you think. A telltale silence falls over the staff members as they all anticipate the director’s signal for the scene to start.

The first few seconds are always tricky. You’re no actress. There’s no switch inside of you that flips on and off as soon as the director commands “ACTION!” and “CUT!”. The world around you doesn’t fade out, your ‘porn star persona’ doesn’t claw its way out from within you and lunge for the nearest available dick. Sometimes, if you’re not attracted to your onscreen partner, you find your mind drifting off, making an inventory of your fridge and wondering what you’ll be able to cook up for dinner with two eggs and leftover rice.

When Director Ryu shouts “ACTION!” and slams down the plate, you freeze up. Usually you have an idea of what to say or do, but the words and actions won’t come to you this time.

Someone behind the cameras lets out a light cough. Oh right, you blink down at the simmering pot of water in front of you. The cameras are recording you making an utter fool out of yourself.

The spike of humiliation forces you into action. You’re more professional than this, damn it. You give the water a tentative stir, movements wooden and stiff. It’s hard to concentrate. All you can do is watch as the water simmers to a boil, the sound of bubbling water like a roaring current in your ears.

A door creaks open, signalling your onscreen husband’s return home.

To your horror, you find that you’re unable to move, as if your limbs had forgotten their primary function.

Before the scene had started, you had envisioned yourself throwing yourself into the arms of your loving husband and welcoming him home with a shower of kisses and words of affection. You had internally rehearsed it, had even thought of what you could say to him between pecks, but the reality is far removed from what you had practiced.

“Darling?” Hoseok’s voice is soft but loud enough for you to hear him over the angry sounds of boiling water. The vowels he uses are rounded, different from the bright pep in his tone from earlier. 

You want to respond but your tongue feels like lead, too heavy in your mouth to articulate and form the proper reply. What are you supposed to call him, anyway? Honey? Hoseok? A nickname derived from his name? What do newlywed spouses call each other? Why couldn’t you give this more thought before the cameras began rolling?

Panic balloons inside you, threatening to burst. For a terrifying and mortifying second, you think that you’ve gone and ruined everything. The muscles in your shoulders bunch up and you half-expect the director to shout ‘CUT!’, give you a public scolding for missing your cue and berate you for your overall ineptitude.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around your middle before you have time to agonize any further. Just as you suspected, his arms are strong, the lean muscles flexing as he readjusts his hold around your waist. What you don’t expect, however, is the unadulterated warmth he radiates. His body burns hot; even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you, his warmth seeps through. But it’s strangely comfortable, not unlike basking in the afternoon sun during the last days of summer. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

With your back turned to him, you can’t be sure, but you imagine the pout playing at his lips. He tucks his chin in the crook of your shoulder. If he feels any awkwardness, he doesn’t let it show.

Miraculously, your mouth seems to be in working order again. It takes you a few seconds too long to find the appropriate answer, but it finally comes before the director can cut in to make any remarks.

“If I turn around right now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you,” you explain. “And - I don’t want to ruin our dinner.”

Just to keep up the pretense, you add a handful of spaghetti into the pot of water.

Hoseok lets out a hum from behind you. He’s standing close enough for you to feel the vibrations low in his throat.

“I hate it,” he says after a stretch of silence.

You pout. “What? My cooking? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, silly. I hate -” he sighs, buries his face in your neck before looking back up so the camera can capture his expression. “I hate not being with you. I missed this.”

He hugs you from behind before kissing your neck. It starts off innocuous - his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the column of your throat. Quickly, however, his mouth lingers on your skin.

“Ah - don’t. I’m cooking!” you shriek when his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot under your jaw. Your protests are half-hearted and go by unacknowledged. The pot of pasta could overflow right now and no one would care, least of all you.

Hoseok noses your neck while he tightening his grip around your waist, the movement bringing his hips flush against your lower back. You give the pot in front of you a very unenthusiastic stir, attention focused instead on the way his lips tenderly skim the surface of your skin, testing and teasing. The sensation feels nice - and keeps your mind off of the several cameras directed your way.

“But I went all day missing my princess,” he sighs, open mouthed against your neck. “Spent all day thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm.” He gives your exposed shoulder a peck. Then another. “Thought about your cute little laugh.”

His line catches you off guard. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Porn is often crude and to the point. You’re used to men complimenting your body parts or praising your skills in bed. You’d never minded, either. But Hoseok’s choice of words make you eager in a different way.

“What else?”

“Well, your cooking, for sure. Without you I’d be eating out of ramyeon packets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

You let out a snort.

“That’s true. Your cooking is so horrible it’s offensive.”

“Hey now. Don’t be mean.” He pokes your cheek before pinching your chin to turn your head towards him. “I can cook a decent omelet.”

Hoseok’s a good few inches taller than you so you have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes. The slight discomfort barely registers. You’re too transfixed by the way he stares at you. It’s hard to place the expression because you’ve never seen it on a fellow actor before. Normally, the men you work with stare you down with hungry and lustful intent, but there’s none of that in Hoseok’s gaze.

The expression on his face cannot be described as innocent, either. He licks his lips, drawing your attention to the pretty lines of his mouth delicately curved into a smile.

“I missed the way you feel in my arms.” His voice sounds deeper, this time. “I missed holding you close to me. Kissing you. Reminding you how much I love you. I missed the look in your eyes when - “

“When?”

He smirks. “You sure you want to hear it? What if you can’t keep your hands off of me after? I don’t want to be held responsible for soggy pasta.”

“Hoseok,” you whine, one of your hands reaching down to slap at the hold around your stomach. 

He tightens his hold around you and your breath hitches, suddenly all too aware of how firm his body feels behind you. The smirk on his face widens as he leans forward to confess his next words.

“I was thinking about how I miss the look on your face whenever I make your pussy sloppy with my cum.”

“Hoseok!”

One moment he’s crooning sweet words of affection, the next he’s spitting out filth. The quick back-and-forth gives you whiplash but you can’t say you dislike it. Unlike the tired and overused clichéd porn scenarios you’ve filmed in the past, Hoseok’s unpredictable behavior has the advantage of keeping you on your toes.

“You missed it too, hm?” He kisses your neck, lips soft and warm. “Kept thinking about how pretty you sound. So, so pretty. Especially when I give you what you want.”

“How would you know what I want?” You turn your head forwards so you can pretend to check up on the cooking pasta. “You were away all day.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How would I know?” he parrots back, his tone sweet and mocking. Something about it sends tingles down your spine and has you standing up straighter. “I always know what my pretty wife wants. I know because your body can’t lie to me.”

His hands wander, one of them inching up the material of your frilly apron to reach between your breasts. The movement is slow enough for a camera to zoom in and follow its trail. Hoseok rests his hand on your left breast and gives it a squeeze.

“See?” He repeats the action. “Your heart’s racing like crazy.”

You swallow audibly, finding it hard to come up with a witty riposte.

He continues with a chuckle, “You can’t deny it, can you? Your body’s too honest for your own good. It’s okay. You don’t have to say you missed me. I know.”

His self-assured way of talking makes it easier for you to react. This - the cockiness, the playfulness - you’re familiar with.

You roll your eyes and continue to give the pot in front of you a few additional stirs only for your breath to hitch when he starts to grind his hips against your lower back in time with your stirs.

Fuck is your only coherent thought. He rolls his hips so well it’s impossible not to imagine them doing something else. Your bottom lip grows numb from how hard you bite it.

“Of course I missed you.” You keep your tone as light as possible, determined not to show that his words and actions affect you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow. He removes his hands from around you but keeps his front pressed against your back. He smiles again, dimples poking through.

“You don’t sound convinced... That’s fine.” It sounds like the beginning of a challenge and you soon learn why.

His nimble fingers play with the knot of your apron and you tense, expecting him to make quick work of your clothes and dive straight into dessert, so to speak. Once again, he surprises you by leaving the apron alone, hands falling to his sides.

His knees hit the floor, the noise startling you. Before you have the chance to truly react, he’s quick to pull your hips backwards until your back is arched. The sudden change in position forces you to adjust your stance so as to keep your balance.

“Hoseok?” you start to question but he cuts you off with a tut and light smack to your ass.

“You just keep your eye on dinner like you were doing before.” His fingers play with the hem of your short dress, stretching the fabric until it bunches up around your hips and leaves your lacy thong on display. “You can do that, right?”

Flustered by the position he’s maneuvered you into, with your hips thrust back obscenely, legs splayed wide and pussy on show, you grip the wooden spoon in your hand with more force than necessary. “It’s just pasta. I can manage.”

Maybe you sound less indifferent than intended because Hoseok seems more amused than offended by your feinted nonchalance. He barks out a laugh, his hands spreading the meat of your cheeks aside to get a better view of your lace-covered bits.

Privately, you wish you could witness his reaction. If there’s anything that turns you on, it’s knowing how much someone else wants you. If feels good to know that you’re wanted and desired. Even if fucking is part of your job description, the act needs to be mutually enjoyable for you to be completely satisfied.

“Sure.” The lilt in his voice is so sweet that it borders on condescending. “While you do that, I think I’ll have my appetizer.”

It’s corny, overused and a little degrading - exactly the type of one-liner you’d ordinarily find in porn - but he gives you no time to call him out for it. As soon as he’s done talking, he wags his tongue out and drags it across the red lace, and the repeated up and down motions quickly dampen your panties.

You notice with great frustration that he takes care to avoid your clit, focusing instead on licking broad stripes over slit and, to your surprise, around your rim.  He doesn’t stop until your underwear drips with the accumulation of your essence and his saliva. The soaked lace rubs against you, the rough texture adding pressure to your most sensitive zones, until you can’t tell if the extra sensation is a blessing or a curse. Your hips jerk forward every so often, unsure if you’d rather lean into or escape his torturous games. Because as amazing as Hoseok’s tongue feels, you know your body well enough to be able to tell that this particular tempo won’t bring you to your peak.

An appetizer, he had called it. That’s exactly what the teasing ministrations feel like - a small sampling before the main course. It’s satisfying and maddening in its own way. Good, but not enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

He unearths himself from your dripping core, chin shiny with your juices.

“Keep focus,” he instructs as he slots two fingers inside of you. You’re wet enough that they slide in without too much difficulty, the stretch making your stomach clench. “I thought you said you knew how to cook pasta.”

Against your will, you force yourself to focus on the bubbling water in front of you. As much as you want to push your hips back and ride his fingers until you’re pushed over the edge, you can’t take the humiliation of messing up pasta - even if it is for the sake of a porn scenario.

It’s fucking pasta! You have to be seriously inept to mess up such a simple dish...

But what should have been an effortless task becomes more challenging than expected. Hoseok refuses to go easy on you. If anything, your stubborn silence is all the motivation he needs to thrust his fingers inside of you harder, curving them at an angle that makes your knees wobble. You struggle to keep any incriminating noises at bay but despite your best efforts, several muffled moans slip out one after the other.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the logical side of you points out how dangerous all of this is. What if, during your impending orgasm, your body seizes up and knocks the boiling water everywhere during the process? You quickly switch off the gas stove at the thought. Better be safe than sorry.

Just then, Hoseok adds his tongue to the mix, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. You bite back a curse as the wooden spoon slips from your hold and clatters to the floor.

“Ah fu - Oh God,” you stutter, hands holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life.

You’ve been eaten out God knows how many times in your life, but not many have instinctively known what really gets you going. Hoseok laps at your core, tongue collecting the moisture that seeps through the fabric of your ruined panties, while his fingers scissor you open for his cock.

Your stomach clenches as you imagine how well he’d fill you up. Who the hell would ever want pasta for dinner when Hoseok could feed you his cock instead? Definitely not you, that’s for sure.

It’s easy to picture it. All he’d need to do is stand up, unzip his pants and spear you open with a practiced roll of his hips. Maybe he’d make you toss a salad while he fucks you from behind, slapping your ass whenever you forget to keep stirring the ingredients together. Or perhaps he’d let you ride his dick on the kitchen floor, too impatient to make it to a more comfortable surface.

Your imagination knows no bounds. Once you start, you can’t stop thinking of more lascivious scenarios, each one more daring and debauched than the last. The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and still, you ache for more.

Hoseok pulls away from the apex of your thighs and snorts, the sound pulling you out of your depraved thoughts. The pace of his thrusting slows down without stopping completely, his fingers still pressed deep within you. Your arms tremble as they try to keep you upright, knuckles white from the strength of your grip around the counter’s edge. You exhale shakily.

A whine works its way into your voice. “Why - why’d you stop?”

Ignoring your protests, he pops his fingers out of you and indulges in one last lick of your swollen pussy, before gathering to his feet. He rolls down your dress back over your bum and peers over your shoulder, acting as nothing had ever happened.

“Thought you said you’d take care of dinner, hm?” Hoseok has the gall to hum in disappointment.

Your mouth opens in outrage. “You!”

Hoseok pouts. “I thought we said you wouldn’t blame me for any soggy pasta.”

“You’re impossible,” you say without any real heat to your words.

“But you love me that way.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss you, lips sticky and warm. You follow the pace he sets as best you can, unaccustomed to the way he takes his time - like you’re a delicacy that demands to be savored and not gulped down. On-screen kisses are usually rushed, messy, with too much tongue. They’re a scripted affair, more for show than out of real affection. When men tuck back your hair behind your ear or palm your cheek, it’s only to better angle your face for the camera.

There is something intimate about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Inwardly, you can't help but admire his acting skills. There’s something tender about the way he handles you that’s distinctly different from any of your previous onscreen partners. Sure, you’ve shot vanilla sex scenes before, but never of this variety. None of the male actors’ performances have made you wish, even fleetingly, foolishly, that the scene was real.

Hoseok pulls up for air before your mind can wander off completely, his panting mouth a hairsbreadth away. Lips touching but not quite.

Blearily, you blink your eyes open. You’re close enough that your noses brush against one another, your breaths mingling together. Hoseok’s eyes remain closed throughout, like he doesn’t want the moment to end. He looks so content that you can’t bring yourself to do anything else but melt further into his embrace, gaze drinking in the minute details of his face - like the tiny moles dotting his cheekbone and upper lip and the pretty curve of his eyes.

“And cut!”

You both jump away from each other, startled. For a second there, the storyline you’d been instructed to follow had slipped from your mind. You’re unsure if the lapse in judgement is good or bad but you don’t let the question linger in your thoughts. You’ll have plenty of time to dissect your performance at a later time.

“Good, good. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I don’t think anyone has any objections?” Director Ryu claps his hands. “Fifteen minute break sound good everyone? Then we’ll relocate to the bedroom to shoot the next part.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the crew members. Chairs and various other equipment scrape the floor as the personnel prepare to migrate to the other room for filming. Jimin’s gaze meets yours briefly but all he can do is smile weakly in your direction before he’s ordered to help push some of the equipment down the hall.

Someone comes up to you with a bottle of water while another steps closer to blot the beads of sweat near your hairline and reapply a layer of lipstick. The make-up artist knits her brows in concentration until she’s satisfied with the touch-ups. She then moves on to Hoseok, make-up palette and brush at the ready, and grumbles loudly about the sticky residue covering his face. You hear Hoseok bellow a laugh, the sound so infectious that even the make-up artist joins in. 

You sip your water through a straw, careful not to smudge your freshly applied lipstick, and check your phone for any missed messages.

“Was all of that okay?”

“Hm?” You look up and are surprised to see Hoseok stare at you expectantly. “I, uh, know some girls aren’t into ass play. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before jumping the gun but I figured - since you said there wasn’t anything major you were adverse to filming...”

His voice trails off.

“I liked it.” The admission is an easy one. “It did take me by surprise, but - I don’t have any complaints.”

“Ah, really?” Hoseok’s mouth corners upturn in relief. “That’s good to know. I was thinking - for the next scene - what if - I mean, are you okay with calling me Daddy?”

You tilt your head as you mull over the proposition.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not - you don’t have to. But listening to Director Ryu go on earlier made me think of something we could do. I think it fits well with the general idea. What do you think?”

“I’m fine with it.” Using the title doesn’t make you squeamish so you shrug in compliance. It’s not the first you’ve had to incorporate a daddy kink into the scene and it likely won’t be the last. You don’t see why you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do it with Hoseok. “I’ll follow your lead like I’ve been doing.”

It’s only as you’re following him towards the bedroom that you recall that you’ve yet to get to the crux of the scene - the damned impregnation kink. Even though you’re considerably less nervous than you’d been an hour or two ago, the thought of begging someone you barely know for something so intimate makes your stomach flip-flop. You don’t even have unprotected sex with Jimin and he’s your boyfriend.

Speaking of Jimin, you try to sneak in a peck or two before filming but Director Ryu intercepts you before you can make a beeline to where Jimin’s stationed behind a camera.

“How are you feeling?” The overhead light reflects off his round glasses and makes it impossible to hold eye contact unless you want to become semi-permanently blind.

“Good---”

“Wonderful. Well, we’ve positioned cameras here, here, and over there. There’ll be another camera man who’ll film with a handheld camera for closeups. Just keep that in mind. I know we’re giving you free-range to do what you feel is best and most natural but I’d hate to ask you to re-shoot because the camera couldn’t capture the both of you properly.”

You nod and he continues, “Also - please remember that you’re acting as a horny young married couple. I remember at that age I was up for anything, you get what I’m saying? People think just because you put a ring on your finger the sex automatically becomes stale. Fuck that. Show people married couples are freaks in the sheet.”

“Uh... Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He claps a hand over your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Freaks in the sheet? What did he expect you to do? Try out all the sex positions in the Kama Sutra?

“What did he want now?” Hoseok leans over to whisper once you’re seated comfortably on the bed. You’re hoping the mics don’t pick up the conversation but would rather not take the risk of being overheard bad-mouthing the director.

Shrugging, you say, “Just that this scene should be spicier.”

Hoseok raises his brow, lips quirking into a smirk. “That so?”

The same cockiness you’d caught a glimpse of during your escapade in the kitchen is back and the memory you associate it with makes the back of your neck prickle with heat. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

Thankfully Director Ryu interrupts before Hoseok has the chance to fluster you further. You follow each of the director’s voiced directives until you’re comfortably seated on Hoseok’s lap, dress hitched around your waist because of how far your knees are spread on either side of Hoseok’s thighs. There’s a quick, last minute adjustment as Director Ryu ensures that the camera in the left corner picks up on everything it’s supposed to.

Satisfied, he lets you take the reins from there, then gives the cameras the signal to begin rolling.

You don’t waste a moment, taking his earlier commentary to heart. It’s your turn to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s golden skin, leaving faint traces of rouge behind like an artist signing their own painting. You stop a few times to admire your work. Lip prints and lavender bite marks color his skin and the sight awakens a possessive streak you didn’t know you had.

Your enthusiasm to mark him up gets a little out of hand.

"Mhm." Hoseok grunts when you lick over a sensitive spot under his jaw. "Slow down, princess. There's no rush. We have all night."

He cups his chin between his hands so you have no choice but to relent and direct your gaze up at him. You’re pleased to see that he’s not completely indifferent to your touch; despite his instructions to take it slow, the smoldering look in his eyes tell a different story.

He runs the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the pink flesh no doubt swollen. You take the digit in your mouth, unprompted, and run your tongue against its underside, wishing that his cock could fill your mouth instead.

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, not quite a growl but close.

"And I intend to take my time with you." The look he levels you with promises a night full of mind-numbing pleasure. Ribbons of heat curl around the base of your spine. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do," you agree, words muffled around the thumb you refuse to let go of.

You take a hold of his wrist and free your mouth, only to quickly replace it with his forefinger and middle finger. The stretch of two digits makes you moan lewdly.

Hoseok’s eyes darken. He lets you play for a few more seconds before he takes back control, his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. You swallow down a gag, but his fingers don’t let you rest for long. He drags them over the flat of your tongue, watching as spit dribbles down past the sides of your mouth, and repeats the motion, pumping into your mouth steadily like he would a cock.

As nice as it feels to be filled with his fingers, whether in your cunt or mouth, you’re ready for more. Subconsciously, your hips grind down in his lap, shifting this way and that until you’re perfectly seated over his hardened length.

Drool is pushed out of your mouth as Hoseok squeezes a third fingers in with the other two. You suck harder, hoping that all your efforts will spur Hoseok into finally fucking you. The knowledge that he has to, at one point or another, keeps you from whining and begging pathetically for his cock. You can exercise patience if you put your mind to it; you’re sure of it. 

Your on-screen husband decides to test that resolve.

His other hand starts to wander south, his fingers toying with the short hem of your dress that’s been rucked up even higher with all your rocking and grinding. The movement of your hips slow, your brain unable to keep up with the stimuli coming in all directions.

A crack resounds in the room, the sharp sound startling you more than the sting that accompanies it. Hoseok’s palm rubs over the heated area, only inflaming it further.

“And who told you you could stop?”

The second slap is notably harsher than the first, and your hips automatically lurch forward hoping perhaps to lessen the impact of the sting.

You know he doesn’t expect a verbal answer; his second hand keeps your mouth plugged up, making any attempt at talking unintelligible. It doesn’t stop you from trying, only because you know the muffled protest are greatly appreciated amongst viewers. And if the way Hoseok’s digs his fingers into your smarting ass cheek is any indicator, you’re confident that he also enjoys your squirming and messy display.

“Keep moving, princess. I need both your holes nice and wet.”

The way his voice dips an octave makes your stomach twist in arousal. You long to tell him that you’re sufficiently wet enough for him to slide his cock inside right away but all you manage are pitiful garbled words.

He raises an eyebrow at your delayed response and your hips move before he can smack the globes of your ass for a third time. You have an inkling he’ll only hit harder with the intention of leaving marks of his own all over your skin.

It’s a careful balancing act, but you figure it out as you go. Bounce too fast and the fingers in your mouth will make you gag. Move too slowly for his liking and he won’t hesitate to add to the collection of handprints on your ass.

You lose track of how long he makes you play this game. Your mind focuses on sucking while keeping your jaw slack enough to accomadate the width of three digits. Drool pools down your chin, and you’re certain whatever the make-up artist had done to your lips is now ruined. Worse off are your panties. At the stage they’re at now, you’ll have no choice but to throw them out. Hoseok’s pants might need be as unsalveagable as your thong, you think inwardly, judging by the large, dark wet spot you’re currently sitting on.

“Mmh, good girl.” 

He gently slides his fingers out, strings of saliva attached. He hums in satisfaction at the lewd sight and rubs his fingers across your swollen lips and shiny chin, spreading the fluids and what’s left of your lipstick over your mouth. You swallow, mouth sore from being used roughly for so long.

“This hole is sufficiently wet, I think,” he appraises, eyelashes fluttering before he casts a long look down your body until it reaches where you’re seated on his clothed erection. “Let’s check this one too.”

The way he smirks at you but makes no move to check himself lets you know that he expects you to do the work.

You let your hands trail down your body slowly, cupping your breasts as you do, enjoying his hooded gaze and the way his cock twitches beneath you a bit too much. When you reach the hem of your dress, you lift your hips up to pull the fabric up to your navel giving an unobstructed view of your lace-covered pussy.

Hoseok stare intensifies but you don’t feel any embarrassment from the scrutiny. “Well you certainly look ripe.”

His fingers toy with the delicate string of lace around your hips. He lets the material snap against your skin a few times before he grows bored or impatient with his own game and gives the lace a harsh yank. It tears easily and the leftover scraps fall into his lap.

“... But just to be sure -” His hands grip your waist and manhandle you onto your hands and knees. Your head spins from how suddenly he’s moved you around to his liking that your arms give out and you fall face first into the clean smelling bed sheets. “Gotta give my favorite hole of yours a better look.”

His hands hoist your hips at a higher angle so that your soaked center is visible for the cameras to pan onto. Hoseok slides in two fingers easily, then a third. Loud, obscene noises echo in the otherwise quiet room, noises that are quickly joined by your unabashed moans of pleasure.

Your core is on fire. Hoseok’s fingers are just as good as you remember them to be. No, better. The three fingers pump into you in measured strokes, the drag slow enough to keep you dangling over the edge without pushing you over.

Hoseok spanks your ass, hissing between his teeth as you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining your inner walls hugging his cock instead. 

“Christ. You’re always such a soft, wet little thing down here,” he croons in dulcet tones. “I could play with you all day.”

You thrust your hips back, shameless.

“Please! Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I just - please - I nuh, need it. Need your cock fucking me full. I’ll take it so good, you know I will. Want you to - please! Daddy, I need your cum.”

“Shit.”

He fumbles in his haste to flip you onto your back. He crawls over your body, and you watch fascinated as he dives down to kiss you like a man starved. He looks almost feral, pupils so dilated the brown of his eyes is almost gone.

Heat blooms in your stomach as he kisses you deeply. The press of his lips against yours renders you a little less coherent as time ticks on, every brush of his tongue making you a little more dizzy with want.

Everything about him burns. It feels like being kissed by the sun itself. Every caress, every lick and nip leaves you feverish all over, like your drunk off his touch.

"Let me," he says, pinching the zipper of your dress between his thumb and index finger.

You wrap your hand around his and guide his movements. His gaze never leaves yours and it makes shivers run down your back. Even though you're the one controlling his movements for the time being, the look in his eyes makes it abundantly clear that the control you wield is only temporary.

When your dress finally falls open, you try not to preen too much under the reverent look that falls over Hoseok’s face. Your back arches a little off the bed, pert breasts thrust towards him - an appealing offer he doesn’t dare refuse.

Hoseok circles a thumb around your nipple, rubbing and flicking until it hardens into a stiff peak.

You wonder, distantly, how this looks like from the outside looking in. The man in front of you is a stranger in all senses of the word. Yet the way he touches you - like there are years of built-up affection behind every gesture - makes you second guess everything you know.

"Fuckin' love your tits.” He sighs, awe reflected in the dark of his eyes. "Love playing with them. Love how wet it gets you, how hungry your little pussy gets."

"Please,” you mewl, his words igniting a new wave of heat. It rolls over your body, leaving no extremity untouched. You burn from the inside out with raw desire.

You squeeze your own breasts in a bid to get him to touch you more. Hoseok merely chuckles, finding your desperation entertaining. One of his hands reach down between you to play with the wetness that clings to your core like a second skin and it takes everything inside of you not to rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"What is it, princess?" His lips quirk into a smirk like he already knows the answer. "You're looking quite needy. How did you manage to hold it in all this time?"

“Stop teasing,” you growl, the lack of friction making you irritable. "I need your cock. And why - why do you have so many fucking clothes on?”

He chuckles, chest vibrating in amusement.

“Take them off,” you insist. Then, you grudgingly tack on a “Please” for good measure.

As hot as Hoseok looks like in his “work clothes”, he looks infinitely better naked, you decide as he chucks off his button-down shirt and gets started on his leather belt. With each new piece of clothing that gets discarded, the anticipation building inside of you skyrockets.

You take a moment to soak in his lithe figure, not bothering to hide how affected you are by the view. He’s nicely sculpted; you can tell right away that he takes care of himself. Swimming or dancing maybe? You hesitate between the two. His muscles are lean, nothing like the bulging biceps and thick forearms typical of the stereotypical gym rat.

Hoseok’s dick is, unsurprisingly, as pretty as the rest of him. It’s long and curved, a prominent vein running along its underside. The thatch of pubic hair that rests above his dick is neatly trimmed, the dark hair contrasting with the tan skin of his abdomen and the rosy hue of his erect length. Your eyes swoop down his thighs, licking your lips unwittingly at the alluring sight presented to you.

“Daddy,” you say, the whine in your voice unmistakable. “Want your cock.”

For a brief moment you’re tricked into believing he’s given in to your demand, but find yourself disappointed when he contents himself with rubbing his hardened member between your thighs, the glide slippery thanks to the copious amount of your essence that’s pooled there.

“Like this?” Hoseok asks, tone too sweet to be anything but mocking. The head of his cock bumps into your swollen bundle of nerves one, two, three times. You keen, your hips canting upwards in a bid to get more friction. “Want to rut against me until you get nice and creamy?”

He uses his right hand to spread your slick lower lips so that he can nestle his cock snuggly between them. He rolls his hips, the undulations fluid and dirty, and smirks at how you moan brokenly beneath him.

Your stomach clenches. “Need it in me."

"You'll get it," he promises after kissing you sloppily, lips sucking on your tongue. His breath is ragged but his voice steady, firm. "I'll give you everything you need. Make you cum so many times you know who owns this sweet pussy."

He speaks so surely, carries himself with so much confidence, that in the moment you can't help but believe him. The line between staged and reality blurs and you find yourself nodding eagerly, begging him as best you can to give you what you want.

The first tentative push of his dick wipes you clean of coherency. He slowly eases himself into you, reaching forward to lace his fingers with yours. It’s - more intimate than you expected. He squeezes your hand tightly in his when he finally manages to bury his entire length inside of you.

“Perfect.” He kisses the side of your temple before drawing back, his hard cock dragging deliciously against you. With a fluid hip thrust, he slides back in and you feel the stretch moreso this time around. The curvature of his cock has him pressing up against your walls in a way that robs you of breath.

"Daddy! Hh - ah, oh God. You're too b-big."

"Mhm, that's right. Daddy's fat cock is splitting you open. I'll plug you up with it later so none of my cum will leak out."

Every time he pulls back, your pussy clamps down tightly around him, unwilling to be empty even for a second.

Hoseok’s nostrils flare in arousal. He grabs your left tit and squeezes, using it as a hold to better fuck into you. With his body hovering above yours, his hand staking claim of your breast, and his cock drilling into you, you have nowhere to go. Pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but take everything he delivers, you wrap your legs around his waist and moan.

"Daddy's gonna fuck some babies into you,” he rasps, his eyes dark pools of lust. "Gonna breed your sweet pussy over and over. You'll be so full of my cum that you'll be pregnant with my babies for sure."

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes - oh my nhhg.” You sob as Hoseok drives his cock into you with more force. While the piston of his hips isn’t rushed, he pulls out to the tip only to slam back in to the hilt every time. The stretch burns in a good way and the sound of your moans are rivaled only by the wet, obscene sounds from your coupling.

"Fuck. Your cunt just - shit." He cracks down a hand against your ass and you shriek, not expecting it. "You're so tight, holy shit."

"Want it. Want you to fuck me good."

"I will," he says lowly, the promise reverberating deep in his chest. "I'll fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Fill you up so much, you'll be bloated with it."

And it should freak you out, the imagery he paints with his words, but the thought of laying there and him fucking you so well that you won't be able to feel your legs has you gushing out more wetness.

"Mmmh.” Maybe he can feel how soaked you are because he comments, “This is my favorite hole of yours, princess. Always so fuckin' drenched. I bet we’ll have to throw out the sheets again." He chuckles. "You must be hungry for it, right? I made you wait so long. No wonder your pussy is clenching like that. It needs a big, fat cock to milk dry."

“I missed it,” you cry, body skidding a little higher up the duvet each time he fucks into you. Your eyelashes flutter, lids heavy. It’s hard to concentrate, let alone form words, when your brain feels like complete mush. “I - I need your cum. Daddy, please.”

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I've got you. Daddy will feed your cute pussy his cock."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Love you," he murmurs. It’s a quiet confession, lost somewhere in between the mattress creaks, the loud slaps of Hoseok’s hips slamming against yours, and the string of whimpers and groans pulled from your throat. It’s quiet but you hear it.

One of your hands reach up to pull him down by the neck so that your lips meet. He kisses you open-mouthed. It’s a filthy kiss, one that makes you moan into his mouth. You’re certain that if you had been standing your knees would have wobbled.

When you let up for air, Hoseok’s staring you down, his red-bitten lips plump and shiny.

"Love this pussy. So sweet and wet for me. Always for fucking swollen, like it's waiting to get a pounding. Love that. Love how eager you are to be bred by my thick cock."

The impregnation kink is - a bit much. You've never really imagined having kids, at least not anytime soon. You can’t even keep your plants alive for fuck’s sake.

But the way he suggests it is nothing like what you had imagined. His suggestions are - vulgar and primal. Like the urge to fuck you full of his cum is biological and he can’t smother it.

For a moment, you let yourself entertain the thought of being his breeding bitch - of laying on your back and letting him fuck load after load of cum inside you until your pussy physically can't accommodate any more. Of not having any other worries or thoughts but take his cock every moment of the day.

"You just got tighter.” He curses under his breath, voice thick with arousal.  "Such a warm little hole. Taking everything I give it. You'd take anything if it meant getting bred by me, right?"

“Yes, yes,” you chant, pleasure coiling inside of you. “Give me more! I need it."

"Shit. You can't handle more, princess," he tries to reason. "Daddy needs to be gentle with you. Your hole is so small, it'll hurt if I go harder."

"Daddy promised to fuck me.” You whine, uncaring if you sound too bratty and demanding. "B- Breed my hole. It's yours. Puh-please use me."

"God." Hoseok groans, his features twisting in what looks to be pain or pleasure. With tremendous effort he pulls himself out of you and your eyes widen in panic.

“What? Daddy why? I thought—”

He shushes you, reaching somewhere overhead to grab a fluffy pillow. "Just wait a sec, okay? There you go.”

The pillow is placed underneath your hips, keeping them elevated. When Hoseok takes his glistening cock in hand and directs it back in, you both moan in unison.

"Oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah,” you gasp as your mind goes blank with pleasure. The new angle is heaven on earth. It’s almost too much, too quick, but Hoseok’s firm grip on your hips prevents you from alleviating the pressure.

"Take it." He grunts, brows knit together. Every powerful snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, your breath hitch. Without his hands keeping you pinned down, your head would have collided with the headboard by now. "Be a good princess and take your fucking."

He gains momentum, the new angle facilitating the slide of his cock. He drags the flat of his palm down your thigh and takes a hold of your knee before hoisting it up over your shoulder. The stretch burns the back of your calves but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even find the words to complain.

When you glance up, it’s to fall upon the sight of Hoseok brushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, his skin dewy from the film of perspiration wrapped around his body. Beads of sweat trickle down his heaving chest but he chooses to forgo a quick break. On the contrary, he pushes in deeper like he’s determined to carve out a permanent space for his cock.

"Just gonna keep you here,” he huffs, his eyes the shade of cloudless night sky. “Everyday I'll fuck my cum back inside of you so that you'll always stay full. Want to fuck you forever. Don't want this to end."

"Want it too," you sob, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. "Want you to keep me full forever. Ugh - oh fuck! Hoseok- I'm—"

"You gonna cum around my cock, princess?" He angles his hips downwards, relishing in the wanton cry it elicits. "Gonna give me everything?"

"I'm yours," you profess, jaw slack with pleasure.

It doesn’t take much more for the orgasm to crash over you, Hoseok fucks you through it, groaning as your inner walls spasm around him. He breathes out curses, lip drawn tight between his lips, and doesn’t wait for the last waves of your orgasm to abate to chase after his own end.

In the throes of your pleasure, it doesn’t register then that Hoseok has been holding back all this time. If you thought he had been fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He growls and bends forward, forcing your leg to stretch even more, and pushes in and out of you at a pace that makes you scream.

You don’t even have time to come down from your first high that you’re already thrown towards your second. Hoseok plugs your mouth up using two digits, his fingers a firm pressure against your tongue. Your eyes roll back, too overwhelmed from the feeling of being stuffed on both ends.

“God, I could fuck your holes all fucking day.” His rhythm begins to falter as the pressure inside of him grows, his movements frantic and less controlled than they’ve ever been. “How about that? I’ll fuck my princess’ mouth properly next time, stretch it out nicely. Then you’ll let me have your ass, hm?”

Shit, shit, you whimper around his fingers, spit bubbling down the sides on your mouth. It’s scary knowing you have no way to stop the oncoming destruction.

“Yeah, I can tell you love that. You’re gonna cream my dick again, aren’t you?” You can’t tell if the sound he makes is a laugh or a grunt. All you know is that you feel like you’re about to burst. “C’mon, be a good girl and milk my cum out. You better get every last drop.”

There’s an underlying threat in his command. You do your best to obey his words, not wanting to disappoint.

Hoseok pushes his cock in as deep as it can go and grinds his hips into yours. His cock reaches so deep that you swear he might hit your cervix. And considering the nature of the scene you’re portraying, maybe that’s what he intends.

He swipes his fingers through the mess of your cunt, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. He swirls some of your fluids over it before giving it a sharp pinch that makes you cry out. Your hips fly off the pillow but Hoseok is quick to pin you back down. The never-ending drag of his cock along your walls paired with the rough ministrations to your clit is all you need for the pressure inside you to snap.

Above you, Hoseok moans, low and throaty, as he finally dumps rope after rope of warm cum inside of you. He throws his head back, exposing the collar of purplish bruises you sucked onto his skin earlier. Something about the view satisfies you immensely - not that you’d dare voice these thoughts out loud.

Hoseok’s strength gives out and he sags onto your body, his breath warm against your skin. He feels hot, like a furnace, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable. It’s almost like having a personal heating pad; the soreness of your muscles melts away with each passing moment.

Much to your displeasure, your post-coital bliss doesn’t last forever. He's given the signal to pull out and obeys, careful to keep your hips propped up so that his load of cum won’t slosh out. He’s still got a role to play, after all, and the end goal is to get you pregnant.

A cameraman walks forward to zoom in on your swollen and used pussy - physical proof of your exploits. The haze lifts. You become more aware of the people standing on the outskirts of your vision, lighting or sound equipment in hand.

“And that’s a wrap!” Director Ryu calls, his cheeks stretched to accommodate the width of his grin. “Good job everybody!”

You breathe out a sigh, glad your day is finally over. Seokjin walks up to you with a robe for you to throw on and you nod in thanks, slipping the satin gown over your sweaty body.

Around you, the staff start milling about, putting the equipment away and gathering their belongings. You pay them no heed, your attention focused on getting changing into showering and changing into comfortable clothes. You’re in the middle of taming your messy hair when your stomach erupts into growls, reminding you of your hungry state. What you’d do for a big slice of piz—

You remember your date with Jimin and speed up, not wanting to make him wait around for you any longer. It’s not hard to spot him - he’s waiting outside of your dressing room, can of coke in hand.

Something about his smile feels off.

Maybe it’s the way his eye corners don’t crease or the slight strain the curve of his mouth that betray him.

Your expression falls. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing, don’t worry,” he says after a short, tense moment of silence. The look on your face must have reflected your feelings of doubt because he proceeds by reaching out and pulling you tight against him. Pressed up against his shirt, you can smell the faintest trace of the fabric softener he uses and its scent, familiar and sweet, mollifies you somewhat. “You did amazing today, baby. As usual.”

The compliment you’ve been waiting for makes the sides of your lips rise automatically. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Almost too well.” He hums, one of his hands stroking the back of your head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, “ you admit. “The results wouldn’t have been half as good if Hoseok hadn’t been my partner. He’s new in the game but he doesn’t act like it, does he?”

“He doesn’t, no.” Jimin agrees. “He’s... he’s something, alright.”

Your grin widens. All your worrying had been for nothing, in the end. The shoot had gone without a hitch, all of the set members coming up to you with praises of a job well done. You can’t recall the last time any of your performances had elicited such a response post-filming. Even Director Ryu looks particularly pleased, a permanent grin etched onto his features as he reviews the tapes. The knowledge that you’ve done well fills you with a pleasant giddiness that warms your insides and makes your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile stretches.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Hoseok beams. A damp towel hangs around his neck and the ends of his hair are wet like he’s just gone and doused his head under the bathroom faucet. “I was worried you had left. I just - thanks for earlier. I had a lot of fun! If the chance presents itself, I hope we can work together again.”

“Thank you.” You want to praise him too, know that his performance deserves it, but your next words are cut off before they have the chance to form. Jimin steps closer to you, his grip on your hip tightening suddenly.

When you glance up to check on your boyfriend, he’s sporting a serious expression that you’ve rarely seen before. He doesn’t look angry, but it’s clear as day that he isn’t too pleased with the present situation. His face is closed off, cold, unwelcoming - so drastically different from the usual cherubic sweetness you’re accustomed to seeing.

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of who to address first. What’s going on?

Hoseok senses the sudden change in atmosphere and chooses to tactfully retreat.

“Good work, man.” He nods at Jimin and then shoots you a wave. “See you around sometime, ______ !”

Your eyes follow his exit before you turn to face Jimin again, hoping the smile on your face masks the worry you feel bubbling on the inside.

“Jimin what - I mean, are you sure you're okay?”

Jimin returns a strained smile of his own. “I’m fine.”

Your gaze lands on his right hand that’s still squeezing your waist. It borders on uncomfortable but you try not to let it show. You must not do a very good job at schooling your features because Jimin quickly apologizes for his behavior.

“Sorry.” Jimin lets you go once he notices your discomfort. “I just - I don’t know. You’re right, I’m not acting like myself. I think...seeing you say that stuff and act that way just - I’m not sure why, I guess - Since usually the sex isn’t like that, it caught me off guard.”

“You didn’t like that I acted like I was in love with him.”

“Would anyone?” he shoots back, smile sardonic. “It just looked so convincing in the moment. I guess it got me worked up.”

Sure, Hoseok is hot. If you had to work with him again, you would in a heartbeat. It’s not often you land a colleague you’re so sexually compatible with, who also happens to be so well-mannered and good-looking. It’s like hitting the jackpot, really.

But - just because you’d fuck him again for professional reasons, doesn’t mean that you’re interested in him beyond that.

“Jimin. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” The muscles in his face relax. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

.

.

It’s not until later, as he fucks you uncharacteristically hard in the backseat of his car parked in the back lot of the film studio, that you begin to wonder if things really are as idyllic as you believe them to be.

.

.

.