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aworldinsideaperson · 1 year ago

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Candy Cane Kisses

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Plus Size!AFAB!Reader

Summary: Candy Cane Kisses takes us to a Texas ranch on Christmas night, Jake “Hangman” Seresin is watching his sister’s best friend from across the room as he nurses the bottle of beer in his hand. His Bambi is somehow more beautiful than she’d been when they met three years prior, the last time they’d seen each other until only two nights before and he wonders if she can still taste him like that candy cane between her lips.

Warnings: 18+, No use of Y/N (Reader is nicknamed Bambi), No happy ending (for now). There is talk of food, relatively explicit talk of sex as well as some pretty graphic foreplay/kissing with the reader being described with vaginal anatomy but the actual smut happens behind closed doors.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N:

First: This is part of @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge but it is also a companion piece to a longer story/series I’m working on so while there is no happy ending in this piece the overall story, once completed, will have a happy ending. But once again, THIS PIECE DOES NOT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING so read at your own risk.

Second: The smut was supposed to be in the story but I felt like it didn’t need it but if people want to read it separately I might consider finishing it and posting it.

Third and probably most important: Anything you’d like me to tag as warning or in a description or anything please let me know. I haven’t really posted anything longer than a couple hundred words since like 2016 so it’s been a while and I know fandom and fanfiction has changed quite a bit since I’ve been an active member of it so please bear with me while I get my bearings.

Sailor-Aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge

December 23rd, 2013

Sometimes he replayed that kiss in his head. Sometimes he berated himself for not giving more. Sometimes he imagines pressing his lips to parts of her that he’d never seen. He knew She was older now, they both were, he’d seen the pictures on instagram and facebook, the occasional snapchat with drunk hazy eyes and the same smile she’d had the very first time he’d met her. It’d been more than three years since they’d seen each other in person but even from across a crowded bar with Christmas music blasting and chatter at an all time high, Jake could still hear her laugh and when his eyes shot in the direction of what had once been his favorite sound he knew then and there he was a goner. Even as he makes his way across the room to stand beside her at the bar he knows it’s a mistake but he’s thought about her for three years, and how much hurt could a conversation really do.

“Bambi.” A simple word, a nickname given to her that very first day as she watched the movie for the very first time with tears in her eyes. At the sound her eyes drifted closed, tension leaving her shoulders as she let out a breath before looking over to him with a smile.

A conversation. That’s what he’d told himself. What harm could it do to just say hello, just ask how she was doing, just talk like the old friends they were. It wasn’t until an hour later when he stood inside her bedroom with his hand in her hair and his cock down her throat that he realized maybe his first instinct had been right. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed the sound of her voice, maybe he should have left the bar the second he heard a laugh that made his heart skip, maybe he shouldn’t have come back home at all.

December 24th, 2013

Jake sat on the arm of the couch, his cousin Isaac standing over him gesturing wildly with his unoccupied hand as he recounted a story Jake assumed would be interesting if he could pay attention to anything other than the sound of that laugh from across the room. The cold bottle swung between his fingers nearly empty. If he finished it he’d have to get another, if he went to get another he’d have to walk past her, if he walked past her he was sure she’d smell of that sweet gingerbread lotion she’d slathered on her hands, the same as the night before. He’d have to come face to face with her and that candy cane between her soft lips. He tried not to think about those lips, tried to listen to Isaac talk about the latest ponzi scheme he’d gotten himself involved with, tried not to remember the way her lips felt wrapped around his-

“Dude I’m serious this would be a great investment opportunity! And I know you’ve got some capital, what with that military salary and all.”

Isaac’s eyes were wide with excitement but Jake’s face was contorted in pity as he sighed. “I don’t know Isaac.”

With that his face fell. “Why not man?”

Opening his mouth to give the older man an answer he really didn’t have, except to say that some guy name Brad has Isaac by the balls, Jake was saved by the voice of his mother as she quickly approached the pair.

“Jacob,” She started, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking softly at him, usually a sign she was about to ask for physical labor. “Do you think you could help Bambi bring the rest of the cookies from the basement? We’re running low up here and you know if someone doesn’t go down with her she’s gonna try to carry them all up by herself.”

He sighed but he didn’t argue. “Sure thing Mama,” He stood and clapped his cousin on the shoulder as he walked away. “I’ll catch up with you later Isaac.”

“Okay but seriously think about what I was tellin’ ya.”

With his back turned Jake nodded as he rolled his eyes. “Absolutely.” He knew would absolutely not be thinking about it as he took a few long strides towards the basement door and made his way down the steps.

The Seresin’s basement had never been a place to fear. Finished long before even their first child arrived Jake had always known it as a playroom, a game room, a movie room, whatever his family had needed it to be. He could hear his nieces and nephews to the right of the stairs, no doubt playing with the collection of toys new and old that lived in the too big toy chest in the corner of what could have been a third living room. To his left he could hear the rustling of plastic and clanging of aluminum in what was originally intended to be a second full bar for his dad but his mother had taken over as christmas cookie and bulk grocery storage. Once fully down the steps he could see her then, his back to him as she tried to stack two trays of his mother’s treats on top of one another and he smirked, that was just like her. “I know you’re not trying to carry all those containers up by yourself.” He made his way toward the woman maneuvering the stack to goodies to get the best angle, gently laying his hand on her lower back.

Relaxing at his touch Bambi looked up at Jake with a smile of her own. “I’m an independent woman who only takes one trip, especially with stairs involved.”

“Well as independent as I know you are imagine the hell mama would give me if she knew I let you carry them all up yourself. So will you spare me the wrath?”

Bambi rolled her eyes, replying with a sarcastic chuckle. “Well I suppose I could take pity on you given how well you ate pussy last night.”

The man’s shoulders dropped, “About last night,” He started, the room becoming thick with silence. “It was-“ He couldn’t finish, taking his hand off of Bambi and placing both of them on the counter as he turned from her slightly. He didn’t even know what he should say, didn’t know what the truth was, didn’t know if he should tell the truth even if he knew it.

Bambi nodded and sighed, back straightening as she toyed with the edge of the wrapped cookie trays. “A one time thing, yeah, nothing, I get it and I don’t plan on telling anyone. Not even Mary. She’ll lose her mind if she found out we almost fucked.”

‘Fucked’ the word didn’t feel right. She’d never felt anything like what she felt the night before, memories of his hands and lips trailing over every inch of her body, every square of skin an erogenous zone with his touch. Fucked was something that happened after heated arguments and on couches in frat houses and in the back of cars. She wondered if last night, even though he’d never been inside her, she wondered if that’s what sex was supposed to be like, still making her feel a need for him almost 24 hours after the fact.

“Good. I mean. I just didn’t want to give you the impression that it was more than it was.” He felt sick at his own words. ‘More than what it was’ what was it exactly? Two people who once knew each other, who’d once been friends, giving each other pleasure? No feelings? As if he didn’t still think about her once a day from sharing one single kiss three years prior.

The silence feels heavy around them but continuing to plaster a smile on her face Bambi looks up at her best friend’s brother. “I get it.” She starts. “I’m not a teenager with a crush anymore. You may have been the first person I loved but there have been others since. Other kisses, other blow jobs, other sex partners. There will be others after you too.”

Every muscle in his body was tight as he nodded. “Okay then. It’s all sorted then.” Jake’s stomach churned as he tried not to think of her underneath, on top of, in front of, with other men. He wasn’t neive, he knew last night that the blow job she’d given him had been too good to be the first time she’d done it, someone had instructed her in the past. She knew where she wanted to be kissed and touched and she hadn’t been afraid to move his hands or his mouth or ask for more or less. He knew those things came from experiences. He just hated hearing her say it. Or maybe he hated the thought of after, that there was now an after him. That someone else would touch her and be touched by her and she’d instruct them on how to make her feel the way he had. Make her feel the way he had when he knew no one would ever make him feel the same way she did.

“Yeah, now let’s get these treats up there before people start nibbling on your mom’s gingerbread houses.” With a smile on her face Bambi grabbed the top tray and quickly turned her back to Jake and made her way back upstairs.

She was trapped. Completely and totally trapped. There was no possible way out of the conversation with the man in front of her. She’d tried everything, giving uncomfortable responses, not responding at all, she’d even tried walking away and he’d just followed her. Bambi had met Billy Seresin a few times. He was always too loud and too touchy, he smelled like he smoked 3 packs a day and he never ever shut up. All she had done was give him a polite smile as she was walking past him and into the sitting room, intent on cornering Mary-Ann to pester her about the man who’d shown up to the party as her boyfriend and left 30 minutes prior seemingly losing the title. That had been her plan but of course things hardly seemed to work out the way she expected these last few days especially and nearly 45 minutes later Bambi was sure that if Billy Seresin laid so much as a finger on her again she was going to vomit. But as he raised his hand another slide along her lower back and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey Bill, I’m gonna steal the pretty girl away, hope you don’t mind.” And without waiting for a response Jake led Bambi to the front door, his hand still resting gently on her back.

As they passed the threshold out to the porch her shoulders relaxed as she took in the borderline cold night air. “You are a real hero Jake, if the navy thing doesn’t work out I could whip you up a cape and some spandex, you could go around saving the world from conversations with creeps.” Bambi chuckled as the two settled beside each other on the porch swing, Jake pulling a large blanket from the basket beside them and wrapping it around Bambi’s shoulders.

“Well I’m contractually obligated to the Navy for another few years but afterwards we’ll team up.” His hand rubbed up and down her blanket covered arm a few times before leaning into the back of the swing, his body turned completely towards the woman beside him. “Besides, how was I supposed to let him keep eye fucking you right in front of me.”

“He was not eye fucking me.” Bambi voiced with a roll of her eyes.

“He was,” Jake argued. “I can tell since I’ve done it.”

Turning lifting one knee onto the seat of the swing she turned to completely face Jake. “He’s married to Sarah who’s a fucking dream, no way he’s trying to fuck that up.”

Propping his elbow on the back to their seat, Jake smirked, resting his head on his hand. “You’re way hotter than Sarah.”

“Oh now that’s just a flat lie.” She replied, throwing her head back in laughter.

Lifting his head, Jake let his fingers reach out to slide over a piece of her hair. “I disagree. You’re the hottest woman in any room.” He smirked, giving Bambi an exaggerated wink.

Lulling her head to the side she said his name with a mildly warning tone.

He sighed, throwing his hands up in defense. “Fine I’ll stop saying it. But you can’t make me stop thinking it.” A full genuine smile spread across his face, all the way up to his eyes.

“Sometimes I think you’re too much of a flirt for your own good.” She gave him a gentle shove and her exaggeratedly leaned backwards before sitting up with a laugh.

As the sound of laughter faded Jake admired the woman before him, he’d always thought she was beautiful but the glow of the twinkle lights surrounding the porch made her look ethereal. Even three years later, he’s never gotten over the way he feels around her. For several moments the silence surrounded them, nothing but the light creak of the swing chains and nature. The peacefulness he didn’t expect to be surrounded by was somehow terrifying to him So he filled it. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” She started, looking at her hands in her lap as she began to pick at the polish. “Mom has been seeing this guy Randy and he’s really nice to her. They’re talking about getting married and moving in together. And Mary bought this new camera and we’re setting up a studio space in the third bedroom of the loft. She’s not sure if she’s going to go back to college with me next fall but I still have plenty of time to convince her.” A soft smile turned up the corners of her lips her eyes still trained toward the fiddling fingers in her lap.

Jake reached out, rubbing his hand slowly over the blanket covering her shoulder. “That’s all great Bam but I asked about you.”

She sighed and then nodded. “Oh, well yeah, yeah. I’m good. I’m good.”

‘You sound unsure.” He pushed.

She reached out her hand to place it on his knee. “No, I'm good. Really.” She assured. “Just not totally used to thinking about it I guess.”

Reaching down to take her hand between both of his, stroking his thumb along her skin. “When’s the last time someone ask how you’ve been doing?”

“About 30 seconds ago.”

Jake looked at her with a warning glare. “Before that, smartass.”

Bambi rolled her head and smiled, her thumb sliding back and forth over Jake’s own calloused knuckles.“You’re the one in the Navy, doing big important things, shouldn��t I be the one asking you how you’re doing?”

Squeezing her hand tightly he gave Bambi a serious look. “You can ask but how you’re doing is no less important than how I’m doing. I’m of the opinion that it’s more important. How can I be okay if I know you’re not?” His question was met with silence and so with a sigh he continued. “I’ve been really good. Made some friends, made some non friends, and I love flying. Have pretty much everything I could ever want. Now you.”

Bambi smiled, giving Jake’s hands a squeeze of her own as she kept her eyes trained on their connected fingers. “I’m good, really. I’m getting my degrees in social work and criminal justice. Victim advocacy is the goal, helping people in similar situations to what Mom and I went through. Things are stressful and I’m scared I’m gonna fail like all the time but I want to help people so badly.” Finally she looked up, tears began to surface in her waterline as she willed them not to fall. “Somewhere out there is a child or a spouse who is going through some of the worst pain of their life and I think about how it felt to be helpless like that and I know I can’t give up.”

Again, Jake reached out to her, one hand still holding tightly to hers, the other gently brushing a fallen drop from her cheek. “You amaze me Bamb, stronger than me that’s for sure.” A comfortable feeling fell over them as he continued the questioning.“You still in therapy?”

With a smile she nodded, her hand still gripped tightly in Jakes. “Yeah but I’ve been in a pretty good place for a while now so we’ve cut back to once or twice a month with the option for more when I need it. It really helped me to work through a lot of the guilt and anger and sadness. And I can think about it now without wanting to throw up. I still have nightmares but nothing like it used to be.”

Jake grinned at that. “That’s really great. I’m proud of you for sticking with it, I know you were really nervous to be starting it in the first place.”

“Thank you for encouraging me back then, I don’t know if I could have done it without that extra push.” 3 years ago she’d been a girl often afraid of her own shadow. She’d thought she needed to be saved back then but Jake hadn’t been the one to do it. Instead he’d loved her and broken her heart and pushed her to help herself.

“Of course Bamb I’ve always cared about you, always wanted what’s best for my Bambi.” His hand cupped her cheek, eyes unable to break from hers.

“Jake-“

“I know, I know what we said I just,” He sighed, thumbs gliding softly over the skin of her hand and of her cheek. “I just really miss you.”

“Miss me?”

“Yeah,” Again, silence surrounded them, Jakes eyes dropping to her lips as he continued. “Bambi, about earlier I didn’t-“

“There you are!” Mary-Ann’s interruption pulled the two apart, hands now cold and cheeks warm. “Jake, I told you to interrupt my conversation with Isaac after 3 minutes. I was stuck there forever listening to him talk about whatever bullshit he’s on now. I swear that guy doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.” Mary plopped down in the rocker closest to the swing.

Jake now sat with his feet planted firmly on the porch. “Says the girl about the drop out of college.” He teased.

Mary gasped, turing to her best friend who still had yet to stop reeling. “You told him!?” She exclaimed.

Bambi replied with a soft shrug. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

With the most sincere puppy dog look she could manage Mary-Ann turned to her brother. “Please don’t tell daddy, he’d be so disappointed in me.”

Jake dropped his shoulders and stood up, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder.“Oh don’t worry Mary-Ann, he’s already disappointed in you.”

From then on the conversation was nothing but a fit of giggles and insults between the siblings, Bambi still swinging back and forth in a fog as she wondered what he’d been about to say.

The night had slowed, most of his extended family had been long gone before it reached ten and parents retiring upstairs not long after. The house was quiet, the only light coming from the twinkling bulbs strung from corner to corner in every room in the house. Jake sat at the dining room table, his chair cocked slightly in the direction of his companion. He’d had more to drink since earlier in the night, giving his mind a soft haze. At least he thought it was the alcohol, could just as easily be the woman sitting beside him in her red dress, glowing in the soft light. He’d convinced her to have one last drink with him before she walked to Mary-Ann’s apartment over the garage. It’d been nearly an hour ago and the clock was ticking closer to midnight as the two each prolonged the last sip of their drinks.

Bambi reached over, gently patting his hand. “It’s good to have you home Jake. I worry about you a lot.”

Turning his head to look at the table Jake nodded. “I worry about you a lot too.”

“Me?” She chuckled and just like the night before he forgets how to breathe. “I’m not the one spending my days in a flying metal death trap.”

“I still worry about you. We should keep in touch more.” He traces his finger around the opening of his bottle, trying not to make eye contact as she continues to barely laugh at a memory.

“What, my occasional snapchat not enough for you?” She asks.

“Not when I want to hear from you every day.” It then when he finally looks back at her, if he didn’t know her so well he’d think maybe that smile was real and not the fake one she plastered on to keep others at a distance.

“Every day?”

He sighs and nods his head as he once again looks away from the woman beside him. “Yeah. I think about you every day.” He thinks he must be drunk, there is no other way he’d admit something so agonizing, not to himself and certainly not to her.

The silence is palpable as she throws back the last sip of her drink as she stood. “Well I should probably head out.” Her voice is quiet, if he hadn’t been standing beside her so closely he might not have heard it.

“Bambi,” Jake lifted his hand to her cheek, gently stroking her with his thumb as her eyes closed. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Opening her eyes she watches him through her lashes as she turns and presses her lips to his palm. “How’s that?”

“Not really what I had in mind.”

She smirked, “Disappointed?” She asked, thinking back to the very first kiss they’d shared so long ago, her first.

“Just thinking maybe you don’t know how to kiss, someone should really teach you.” He lifted his other hand, steadying her face to look up at him.

“I seem to recall my first teacher being awfully strict about what kisses he could and could not give me.”

His right hand lifted to brush the stray hairs for her face and he nodded. “Let me make that up to you?”

“I thought that’s what last night was supposed to be.”

One side of his mouth twisted up into a smirk, his hand now moving to caress the side of her neck. “I don’t remember finishing the job.”

“You made me cum, your job is done.” The memory of his lips and tongue making her knees weak.

“But it was only once.” He argued.

She was staring at his lips now, heart pounding with anticipation. “Once is more than most.” It was a true statement. She knew too many people lying about orgasms for it not to be.

His thumb stroked between her jaw and ear, eyes watching her as her eyes moved from his lips to his own chartreuse orbs. “I’m not most.”

Voice hardly above a whisper “Jake?”

“Yes?”

“Just fucking kiss me.”

Four words. Four fucking words and Jake’s mind had gone blank of all thought. All except one. ‘Bambi’. Slowly he dipped his head, gently pressing his lips to her, the familiar taste of candy cane still on her lips from his mother’s christmas cocoa cocktail. He almost pulled away; almost did the exact thing he’d done three years prior, sparing both of them the heartbreak but as she sighed and he felt her melt into his touch he needed just a little more.

Their lips moved together, slotting her bottom lips between his and gently sliding the tip of his tongue across it. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the velvet locks sliding through her fingers as he began to pepper kisses first at the corner of her mouth before moving down over her jaw and down her neck causing her to moan at the feeling of his lips against her bare skin.

He smiled as he continued to kiss and lick and gently nip at her neck. Bending slightly at the knee he wrapped his arms about Bambi and lifted her to rest on the dining room table where only hours earlier his family had been gathered. She gasped and her high heels dropped to the floor and her arms now draped over his shoulders. Jake’s smile grew as he dropped his lips to hers once again, slotting himself between her thighs and pulling her to the edge allowing her to feel his length pressed between their bodies. “Do you feel that baby? Do you wanna feel it inside you?” Arrogance heavy in his voice, his lips barely brushing over hers.

Bamni’s face contorted and she whined. “Yes. Jake please please please.”

“No need to beg Bambi, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He spoke with a slight chuckle in his voice though the sound of her begging made him twitch. Again his lips trailed over the skin of her neck then to her shoulder, his hands sliding up her thighs under the red dress he’d spent the night imagining on the floor. His fingers traced over the nylon, attempting to feel every bump and curve and dimple of the flesh underneath.

”I want you to touch me.” Her tone is still begging with his lips trailing over her collar bone. Smirking Jake pulled his mouth from her skin and licked his lips, moving the fingers of his right hand to her core, touching her gently through the layers.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, feeling her slick against the tips of his fingers. “You are so wet I can feel you through your panties and stockings.” Again he pressed his lips to hers, swallowing the moans the escaped from her lips at even his light and obstructed touch. “Stay the night with me?” He asked, lips still brushing against hers.

With an eggar nod and jagged breath she responded with a simple yes that had Jake’s heart pounding as he pulled her from the table and kissed her deeply before quietly leading her up the stairs and down the hall. He pressed her against the door of his bedroom, his thigh between her legs and her lips against his throat. “Come on baby,” He whispered. “Let me make you feel good.” And with that he pushed his door open and the two stumbled into his childhood bedroom and with a click, locked the door behind them.

It was nearly 5:30 in the morning as the lovers laid in each other's arms, fingers trace patterns over the other’s skin. Jake’s mom would be getting up soon to start Christmas breakfast. His mind reeled with thoughts, a carousel of anxiety, of leaving Bambi, of breaking her heart, breaking his own. Thoughts of his mother’s smirk if his sister’s best friend bound down the stairs with his hand in hers still smelling of sex. His mind filled with thoughts of run, and run, and run. So he ran.

Pulling his arm from around Bambi Jake moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “You should probably get going before everyone gets up.”

She sighed before throwing the covers off and throwing her own legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, I’d hate to have Mama Seresin see me do the walk of shame. She’d probably start planning the wedding before I made it to the end of the driveway.” She laughed as she gathered her dress and undergarments from the night before, slipping them on with little effort. She felt lighter, tension gone from her shoulders and a permanent smile plastered to her face.

“Bambi, last night, it-“ Jake started but Bambi cut him off, leaning in close for a kiss.

“Was great? I sure thought so.” She said, attempting to finish the sentence in a way he hadn’t meant to.

Jake pulled away, his eyes trained directly to his feet as he spoke. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

Silence again filled the space between them, the inches beginning to feel like a cavern as she pulled further away from him. She didn’t recognize her movements as she walked to his door, her fingers wrapping around the cool metel of the handle. With a deep breath she let the truth fall into the chasm between them. “I lied last night, when I told you it didn’t mean anything? It meant everything.”

She stood there, hand on the knob hoping her words had changed something but Jake didn’t even move “I’m sorry Bambi. I wish-“ He sighed and his head dropped into his hands. “You deserve more than this, more than a single night.”

Bambi nodded and turned the handle. “Merry Christmas Jake.”

Her words were quick though even with the speed he could hear the crack in her voice. His door was shut tight before he responded. “Merry Christmas Bambi.” And only when he heard the front door shut and the turning over of her car did he reveal his own truth.

“I love you.”

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catonator · 1 year ago

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Lol, internet

The largest imageboard in Finland, Ylilauta and its offshoot Northpole (rip in peace) had a major faux pas this week. Threads older than 2 weeks are now placed behind a paywall. Imagine if Discord set message history behind a Nitro subscription, and you have the gist of it. The latter board was just flatout killed off due to legal issues.

This majorly pissed off the users, and as a result my fringe alt-imageboard (won’t name the one, rules of the internet 1 & 2) got a surge of new users. However, the results weren’t as I feared! While Ylilauta isn’t really representative of smaller corners of the internet like it once used to be and nowadays is closer to a modern social media platform, the users who showed up were still willing to play along the rules of the smaller board, even if they ended up mostly asking stupid questions. Watching the entire thing unfold was quite fun, actually, and really reminded me of the kind of stupid shit I used to do online about 15 years ago.

The noob raid ended up reminding me of how you actually learn to be a fun part of the communities you happen to stumble upon. Observation. Lurking. You learn new things by reading the old users and seeing what this place is just about. It’s an image board, you don’t even have accounts! You can just stick around and watch!

Search engines and the internet didn’t die because of corporate greed and SEO. Well, just because of corporate greed and SEO. The internet died, because we, the users, collectively all jumped to places like Twitter, Tumblr and Discord. Especially Discord. The internet has always been a haven of user-generated stuff (for better or worse…), but sometime in the past 10 or so years we all decided to stop making it available. Twitter is a collection of barely coherent thoughts in posts that can barely encompass a full sentence. Many good posts are spread across dozens of tweets, usually out of which one at most is indexable, but often the entire thread is missing. Tumblr is a blogging site where the users stopped blogging, and the blogs aren’t visible to outsiders because fuck you. Discord is an instant messaging application meant to compete with fucking TeamSpeak that through sheer user laziness and insane overreach managed to overtake forums, and the message history is completely inaccessible unless you have an account and an invitation to the server.

The result is that all of human knowledge is now contained on like 5 sites, most of which are never going to be accessible to outsiders. For the past decade, we have unknowingly waged a war on lurkers, and in the process driven them all into extinction.

The issue is, lurkers are mostly those who aren’t newcomers. They’re the ones who have learned to keep their mouth shut and try finding a solution first and foremost. The questions they do eventually ask are also the ones that are going to be the most specialised, and also useful to other lurkers. They share personal experience and anecdotes, ideas they tried out but didn’t work for their purposes. They share abstract, multilayered concepts that simply aren’t something that can be demonstrated or proven algorithmically.

The sites that exist and rule the landscape today are practically fraud. What they sell is not funded by them, nor is it created by them. They sell the writings, media, humour, anecdotes and other forms of bizarre interactions that we, the consumers create. Without any user activity, these media megastructures would simply shrivel up and die, as there’d be nobody driving eyes onto the site. They don’t really deserve anything besides maybe being paid for the server costs, which still constitute a fraction of a fraction of the total revenue generated.

But nothing prevents you from just leaving. The internet doesn’t suddenly end when you walk out of YouTube or Instagram. Sure, you can’t just upload your data onto The Internet itself, but the way the web was constructed means that you haven’t lost your rights to obtain a small webhost and an address and setting up your own ramshackle site. You’ll just pay in discoverability.

Internet users need to be reminded that the concept of the internet isn’t just a technology that transmits data to a small number of applications, it’s an interconnected series of servers, clients, more servers and more clients. A server can be any computer you can find with a little tweaking, and as long as you have a router and an internet connection, that’s all you need. You can forward the computer’s IP address and make it behave like a website. The internet was created by users, for users, and so far there’s nothing that can take that away from you.

The change isn’t going to manifest itself overnight, and I also wouldn’t recommend jumping out headfirst into the abyss, leaving everything else behind. It’s just good to know the possibilities anyone can have at their fingertips, as I’ve seen more and more people wallow in misery over the state of current and future internet. Maybe if enough people create wacko self-hosted sites as side projects, we may one day not need sites like the one I’m publishing this text on right now. And if you’re you’re interested and are willing to dive through some tech jargon, this talk by Mr. Cory Doctorow was an incredibly fascinating listen, and provides some solutions to fixing the issues from the perspective of a higher-level operation. It still contains some tidbits of info for you, if you’re concerned about how you’ll move your userbase from one platform to another with as little compromise as possible.

Now, I’ve had enough of this wistful nostalgic hopes bullshit. Next time I’ll just write a story.

#monthly blog #internet #enshittification

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sharonkhaw · 2 years ago

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I haven’t been posting very much lately. I think the last time I posted was eight months ago. it’s quite a while. I haven’t felt the urge or want to post probably because I rather keep things more private than i used to probably because a lot of people are on the Internet snooping. I think ever since I started using Instagram stories, and seen the names on the bottom left corner to show you who’s viewed your post was a bit alarming to me because I didn’t know these people are actually active on the platform and that they just had Instagram and maybe didn’t really use it but after posting and doing test posts I did see quite a few people that don’t share or rarely share anything snooping looking comparing and these people, or I wouldn’t say they are friends or fit in the realm of acquaintances. I know I can make my profile private and it is and I could easily remove a lot of these people to but I just stop posting. I stop posting back in November, and I stop for at least three months. Then recently started posting again, and usually don’t have much to post because I don’t really do much in my life besides the regular stuff like work, exercise, or kids.

I also decided to write/journal more because I used to do that more often when I was younger. I guess I got inspired by influencer. She gave some really good tips and ideas on journaling, one tip that I liked was the spotlight journaling which focuses on questions like: when did it happen, what was said, what was I thinking? Journaling is also a free source of therapy. So I’m going to try to journal more often either on my typewriter, computer, or long hand. I think this will help me get my thoughts together and have a better understanding of myself and my personality. Wish me luck.

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lord-of-the-ducks · 3 years ago

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This hiatus has been fucking insane. It’s been about 3 months, which honestly isn’t that long when it comes to waiting for new seasons of TV series to be released, but there have been so many fucking leaks/teases and I genuinely can’t tell if it’s normal or not. Like, I don’t really watch a lot of tv, and I’m incredibly hyperfixated on WWDITS, so it’s possible that this is standard and I’m just not used to it, but even then, this poor fandom has been on FIRE. So I decided to rank the flames by how much money Harvey Guillén owes me for emotional damages (even if he’s only directly responsible for two of these I’m still sending him the bill)

Everything on this list is only going to be things that happened after the end of season 3, not everything that we know about season 4. Also, there’s probably a few things that I missed, but I’m assuming that if I missed it, it probably wasn’t big enough to be on the list. I’ll include relevant links or pictures so that if you haven’t heard of something here, it’ll be easy to figure it out. Shout out to @ineffably-human in particular, since I ended up linking a lot of their posts, either because they posted whole transcripts or because they were more active than I was around the time of a big event.

Is it bold to rank all of these as if the hiatus isn’t over and there isn’t a possibility of more leaks? Yeah. I don’t know what I’ll do if we get more information, and I’m worried that if I say “this is probably it” that we’ll get even crazier information tomorrow, but I guess if that happens, I’ll just make a quick edit to put whatever weird thing happens in the ranking and reblog to let people know that I updated it. I’m mostly just making this now to cope with everything that’s happened since October and hopefully organize everything in a way that’s helpful to anyone who wants a little glimpse at what it was like to be in this fucking fandom for the past few months

Edit: hey guess what guys there’s another leak and now I have to fucking update this to say that there’s another leak. I was mostly joking when I was like “oh haha maybe we’ll get some crazier information” because surely that wouldn’t happen, surely that’s not possible, but no, it is very possible. I’m slightly more sane about it now that my brain is also hyperfixated on Our Flag Means Death and I’m capable of thinking about something besides WWDITS but season 4 is going to kill me

Anyway, spoilers ahead

10. Pipes and a new drywall

I’m not sure how many people actually know about this one, it doesn’t reveal much of anything, but I wanted to include it since it was a part of the whole Vimeo fiasco

9. Pretzel Guy

Out of all the leaks, this is the one we have the most information about in terms of it being an actual video with Kayvan Novak as Nandor dry humping a pretzel. Some people have pointed out that pretzel guy is probably Freddie, which I agree with, but this leak just didn’t really keep me up at night in the way others have.

8. “Season 4 ends on a cliffhanger”

This one is pretty basic, it was just Harvey on his Instagram story at 3 am talking about how they finished filming season 4 and that it ends on what he calls a “huge cliffhanger”. Great. Thanks. We really needed another one of those.

7. Colin Robinson goes to private school

This one is hilarious, or at least has the potential to be hilarious. Watching vampires try to enroll their…weird egg child into a private school is objectively funny, and it also shows that they do care about him socializing and having a good education. Also Sean is there and Sean is amazing

6. Richie Suck and Tom

Yes, I am going to be completely normal about this other vampire/familiar duo who have a strong relationship. I’m not losing my mind over how the vampire insists that his familiar should be treated with respect, and how he “protects me from myself”. This is fine. Absolutely no parallels to Nandor and Guillermo. At all. I will not stay up late thinking about Richie Suck or his bad stand up. Or how “Richie” is short for “Richard”, and it can also be shortened to “Dick”, meaning that the writers effectively named this character “Dick Suck”. Nope. That would be ridiculous.

5. Reacher interview (one year time skip)

You know, I’d call Harvey insane for this, as well as everything else he’s done over the course of my time in this fandom, but if I also had the ability to make people on the internet immediately go apeshit, I would absolutely abuse it

4. Al Roberts Spotlight profile

Personally, I had already started to come to terms with the Freddie leak by the time it was confirmed to be true, so this didn’t torment me quite as much as it seemed to torment others, but it did confirm that all the emotions I felt were not for nothing with the added bonus of giving weight to people’s theories that Freddie is the pretzel guy, so it absolutely deserves a place high up on the list.

3. The Hug™️

Remember when this was it? Remember when everyone was freaking out about Guillermo in a leather jacket giving Nandor a hug and that was it? We all just collectively made fun of Kayvan Novak for posting that picture and then deleting it shortly afterwards as if that wouldn’t give people the idea that they had seen something they weren’t supposed to? Yeah.

Anyway, this started my descent into madness, I think about it every time I wear MY leather jacket

2. Freddie

I remember when this happened. I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing. I was scrolling through tumblr while I was at work, got hit with a rush, and then checked my phone about an hour later only to find people collectively going fucking insane. I was stuck for the next 45 minutes only reading what people were saying about the leak (which was usually unintelligible freaking out) because there wasn’t a transcript I could find and I wasn’t able to listen to the audio until I got back to my car and literally played it on my car speakers before I actually left to go home. I don’t think the audio exists anymore, but the transcripts still do.

I don’t think the fandom has been quite the same ever since this happened. There’s a reason why a majority of the leaks on this list are at least tangentially related to Freddie. Seriously, imagine being the actor who accidentally leaked their audition tape and watching everyone go fucking insane as a result. Imagine knowing just how much of an impact you had on a relatively small group of people

I’m honestly surprised that I haven’t seen any fanfics with Freddie as a character though, at least on ao3. I sort of expected to see a bunch of fanfic writers immediately post Greddie one shots or something, but all I’ve found are people talking about how Freddie is probably gonna steal all the vampire’s priceless artifacts because he’s British (derogatory)

1. Dick Genies

Wow. Fucking wow. I’m losing my fucking mind over this. I thought Freddie was bad but all that was is “oh look Guillermo has a boyfriend now” which is nice and all but like… please read the transcript because I cannot possibly sum up everything in a way that makes me sound normal. Again, thanks to @ineffably-human for summing everything up in their post.

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits fx #wwdits spoilers #guillermo de la cruz #wwdits season 4 #wwdits s4 #wwdits leaks #wwdits leak #nandor the relentless #laszlo cravensworth #nadja of antipaxos #freddie wwdits

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worldsover · 4 years ago

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New Home ft. Yena

length ✦ 7953

genres ✧ rewriting/expanding @nsfwtwicecatcher’s quickie, Pet; ‘master’; breathplay; kitten!Yena

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Books left unread on a coffee table, post-it notes on the wall reminding family members to get their laundry done, a whiteboard on the fridge with scribbled-up plans for what to eat. Saturday. The whiteboard is empty today. It has been for months. The post-it notes are for people who have long since moved and the books are never going to be read. Your house was messier when you first settled into it. Now home is just the steel and concrete walls, gorgeous architecture yet too much space for one person. Home is a lonely place. Even though you’re a social person, especially with the nature of your work, you haven’t truly been social in a while. It’s only half not your fault with lockdown and whatnot. Unfortunately, there’s no substituting what actually makes a place cozy: remnants of everyday human life.

The next best thing is a pet.

Bright and wide eyes flick up to meet yours when you open your front door. Your pet is below you. Even in the simple action of her glare, her alluring voice rings out in your mind and calls you with the million words of urgent pleading. Only feet below you when you glance down, yet she is far further underneath. Clay isn’t as easy to mold. The girl knows her place so well; she even has the keycode to it. Not that your home is her own. Not yet, at least.

She shudders. Under the appetite of those eyes draw a few tired lines. Living a similar life to hers, you would have more sympathy, that is, if your bulge weren’t straining so much. Or if she hadn’t missed a weekend with her busy schedule.

As she kneels down, the moonlight silhouettes a distinct outline of her fine curves through the grand windows of the foyer.

Maybe if her bare body weren’t so provocative, you would be a little more lenient. Besides, lenience in this situation would probably constitute dragging her to the couch, mounting her plush chest and giving her a little extra time to inhale.

Small hands fold into her lap and she patiently anticipates her orders. Clothes scatter the floor of the entrance hallway. Her soaked underwear to her right, black lace bra to the left, and in between them, an expensive black dress.

She had a picture wearing that dress on her Instagram story—your garden was its colorful backdrop. Good thing you know a thing or two about privacy yourself, keeping your collection of flowers for your own eyes. Otherwise, there would be a lot of questions, articles, and red circles with red arrows making the obvious connection.

The only thing left on her body is a metal chain collar and a smile. It’s a cheeky simper, a proud grin where the corner of her mouth curls up just a pinch more than usual. She understands its effect. Beautiful pale skin, silky smooth legs. Tight toned stomach, large soft breasts and a perfectly round ass. Cherry red lips that belong to you, lips that stain your body when you demand them. Yet more than all of that, her smile incites a fire within you, and she knows your need to wipe it off her face even when she isn’t doing anything wrong or mischievous.

People play games with pets. You don’t keep a pet just to watch it wander. Well, not true, your aquarium in the living room is little more than decoration. However, this pet is active and eager, even when she kneels nearly motionless. Tilt her chin up and gaze intently into her eyes; desire shines through their dark color.

"Name?” you ask.

“Yena.”

“Incorrect. Try again.”

“Sorry.”

Tug on the collar and Yena bites her lip, stifling the escape of a breath that she holds in. “Still wrong.”

She knows the right answer but she knows, more importantly, how you need to punish her mistakes and how she wants you to treat her. A stronger tug urges a response though her voice first comes out as choked noises. “Agh—I have no name. I am nothing but a toy for my master.”

“Good girl,” you say, loosening your grip. Run fingers through her raven locks and firmly grab them. Yena's head jerks back. The grit you add to your voice is unintentional, but it helps. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, master. My only purpose is to serve you and give you pleasure.” Her words are shaky but they're also genuine in their imploring.

“Never forget that.” Caress her chin then her cheek which you give a gentle slap. Her thighs close shut. “Wet already?”

No need to touch Yena to know that she drips from between those full thighs. It’s in her loose eyes that your stare probes deeper into, the firm nubs that her pretty breasts flaunt, and the ragged breaths that she lets slip her mouth. “Yes, master.”

“Do you expect me to do something about that?” you ask, giving her surprisingly ample tits a harsh slap, their recoil enchanting you. When you watched her from the sidelines, only a few of her stage outfits boasted this key quality of hers. Now they're laid bare for you to play with as you please.

“No, master. My pleasure always comes second.”

Yena whimpers, clenches her thighs tighter, and heightens her pitch with every strike until those whimpers are mewls. Spank her tits again repeatedly, each smack louder than the last. “Good answer.”

The sharp pain only wrings forth more wetness from her pussy.

“Good kitten as well. At least you know better than to make a mess of the floor. Whatever.” A final smack on those tits, leaving red the same shape as your hand. “Against the window.”

No hesitation. Yena straightens her posture and retreats so that her head and back are flat against the tall glass wall behind her.

“Take these off,” you demand.

Yena’s hands move with a dancer’s grace to unzip them. Free at last. Her eyes widen as they always do at the erection standing tall, overcasting her face. Your pet wets her lips with her tongue, careful not to touch you lacking your permission since she is a millimeter away and the slightest breeze would cause that tongue to touch your dick.

You know her defiance leads to the same result. You know that cock is going down her throat either way.

You know she just wants to be a good girl.

“You know what to do.”

Her lips press the tip of your dick with a careful urgency, decorating it with its first red smudge of many. A bit of spit, a bit more lipstick, she leaves fresh marks wherever she can. There’s plenty of shaft for her to kiss around, a lot of flesh for her to worship. At times, she’s hungry and rushed but at others, Yena slows down and adores your erection properly.

She’s a lot easier to satisfy than most pets. Even your fish need the right amount of food, the ample space they take up, and sufficient oxygen in the water.

Meanwhile, you don’t have to put in any work for your dick to be so hard for her. If anything, Yena is the one working hard, licking at your length like it’s a treat. Her tongue is insatiable, elongated all the way out of her mouth. Several swipes, but it’s not enough; Yena must taste all of your cock, as though it were her favorite candy. Despite how hard she tries, all she licks away is the red lip stains on your shaft.

By a simple nudge of your hand, you wrest control of your cock away from her and find out just how wanton your kitten is.

Yena is depraved.

When you depreciated her, she was delighted, appreciative.

Now she’s depressed, deprived of her carnal confection depressed on the pillows of her lips.

“Awwh,” Yena whines and pouts. Animalistic instincts tell her to open her mouth wide and stick out her pink tongue again. Slapping your dick on it several times, her eyes signal her readiness—not that you would wait for her.

Your swollen tip parts her delicious plump lips when they tighten around your hard flesh. She does the work, by sucking softly and hollowing her cute puffy cheeks for your width. It feels luscious but you want it to feel better. You don’t intend on delaying any longer, only waiting for her to bob her head for you to get the right angle. Your hands rest on either side of her head while your fingers wrap in her silky hair. Keep her skull pressed against the wall as you bury your shaft down her throat.

“Ahk,” Yena gags. Apparently experience doesn’t help since she always gags, in spite of how many times she swallows your dick. You don’t care because you thrive on the sounds she makes. The slurping and gagging noises when you fuck her pretty mouth against the wall are music to your ears. Her eyes water as you shove your length into her mouth like the toy she is. Though warm and familiar, you never mistake that familiarity with her throat as bland because her tight muscles are the perfect sleeve for your cock to piston into.

“Take it all, kitten,” you growl, her cute nose meeting your stomach with every thrust. Streaks of mascara drip down her face, her makeup beyond repair as she hungrily chokes on every inch of cock.

Your pet is reduced to pure sloppiness, the only thing pure about her. Her lips spew drool like a leaky faucet, turning her breasts into a glistening mess. It's the way Yena looks at you and begs for rougher treatment with a pouty glance before your hips put in overtime to use her face against the wall without any care for her comfort. However, that look inspires an uncharacteristic kindness from you. In a way.

“Touch yourself. You’ve earned a little pleasure.”

“Th-thank you, master,” your pet replies when you exit her ravaged mouth for a moment. Her voice is raspy. Whenever your cock’s tip drags past her lips so that she can utter some more gratitude at the roughness, that voice becomes more raspy and dry, despite all the spit.

She knows not to be greedy, only squeezing her bountiful breasts and pinching her nipples, understanding how much you delight in the view. It’s not like it bothers her one bit. In fact, the contrary, as her previous attempt at avoiding a waterfall between her legs by pressing her thighs only rubs and stimulates them further. That wet spot underneath her thighs might even tarnish the hardwood.

Her moans vibrate around your cock to urge for even more roughness.

Grip the back of her head and fully stuff her throat. Her breath isn’t relevant. Nothing else in the world is other than your pleasure and Yena wouldn’t have it any other way. The apotheosis of your pleasure surfaces to the forefront of your mind in warning flashes.

“That’s enough, kitten,” you say as you release her raw throat. Several strands of spit connect her mouth to your cock’s tip while more spills out of her freshly used lips. The display alone is tempting but it’s too soon in the night to conclude by the front door.

Yena would whine again at the emptiness in her mouth if she weren't too busy gasping for a taste of oxygen.

“Stand up,” you command, barely giving her a chance to recover as her breaths become heavy. Your pet rises from her knees in an instant and you notice how they’re red and sore. “Were you kneeling the whole time?”

“Yes, master.”

“Didn’t you get my texts when I was in the driveway?”

Yena places her hands behind her back and raises her eyebrows, unsure of your point. She could have gotten on her knees when she received the messages, maybe she could have made herself at home with a glass of water and a rest on the couch before she got in place. It’s not as if you were going to check over your security footage for her behavior. Though now you have new ideas for the future. One of those pet feeders with the camera is going on your wishlist.

Instead of cat food, you would dispense that jelly she likes and let her eat it from a steel bowl whenever she’s a good girl.

This would be one of those times she gets a prize. Of course, it’s only natural that she should kneel the whole time. She should wait for her master, even if the floor is hard, even if she has to wait for an hour.

“Such a good pet.” As a reward, grab the leash at the coat rack.

The few recent guests that you had at your house often asked about what breed of dog you had. A better answer than the truth, you told them it was for your fish.

Attach the leash to her collar, yanking on it with little affection. Before you drag Yena around the house, she reverts to her stance on her knees, though now with hands on the ground to crawl. Her tits dangle, her nipples stick out, and she staggers at the force on her neck and the fatigue already settling in her body. She doesn’t need a tour of the house, but it gives you an excuse to recover. While Yena is built like a doll to exhaust all day, you still need to save some stamina for wetter and warmer holes, for more fuckworthy positions.

Naturally, the comfort is solely yours. While you walk through the living room, the kitchen, and the courtyard like a sapient person, Yena is on all fours. While many animals pant to cool their bodies because they don’t have sweat glands, your kitten pants and sweats at the same time anyway, though her tongue droops out not as much for heat but when she breathes heavily to recoup some energy herself. It’s an applaudable endeavour considering you’ve never used her body gently. Plus, she can never know if you might take her right now, possibly bringing her to the elevator and fucking her on the floor.

You’re in no rush to lead her through the halls of your home. The property is vast. Every ceiling is greater than one regular story tall. It would be prudent to map it, then frame that map for future visitors. Realistically, there’s only one such person in near purview.

Pause for a moment in the gallery of paintings before entering one of your many staircases. A shame you’re not fucking her here.

Slight bruises form on her knees when she clambers up your stairs, but she’s happy. You pass your closet, a bespoke room bigger than her bedroom. Most people get to see her clothed, ravishing in many different styles, however, you would rather have the striking sight of an exposed Yena by the foot of your bed.

“How do you want me, master?”

“Just as you are, but on the bed.”

“Yes, master.” Your pet crawls up next to you.

Another seamless silhouette on the bed, again lit through the three clear walls of your cantilevered bedroom by the night sky. Just as familiar of a position as Yena on her knees, she is face down. If she could see anything, she would know that nature stares back at her, your estate surrounded by bamboo and other greenery. That’s not the property that matters to you at all. Her ass bends up, compliant and ready as always.

Pull on the leash and align your cockhead to her inviting opening. One entrance to dip your shaft for a taste, and it doesn’t take long until your dick shoves into her, balls deep, and her dripping wet heat clenches after every harsh thrust. Somehow rougher than you’ve ever been, pound her cunt with a newfound fervor. Yena wants to be your personal fucktoy.

So be it then.

The motion of her hips reciprocates every time you buck yours. Your length scrapes her clean of her juices and it draws each breath out of her without heed to the natural rhythm of her respiration. Yena is lost and heady with desire when she desperately puffs for more air.

However, she isn’t that lost. “Mmph!” comes out muffled as she screams into a big pillow which deadens her volume.

No one’s going to hear her in the bedroom, other than possibly some deer or birds. Unlike in her dance practice room, the broadcasting station’s bathroom, your car bent over on the hood behind the busy cafe, Yena can be as noisy as she wants but instead she holds herself back.

Not having any of that, yank back hard on the leash when she attempts to fall into the mattress. The first two tugs are in time to each deep rut inside, then after the third time, Yena learns, realizing that you want her to be nice and loud. Her back arches perfectly as her fingers clutch into the sheets, yelping high enough that you swear the windows might shatter. It’s understandable—your shaft sunders the small kitten in twain and no amount of her restraint can hold back her voice.

“Ahh! Master’s cock!”

“That’s what I wanna hear.”

While one hand continues its grip on the leash, the other takes turns on her cushy butt. Left cheek. Right cheek. Initially, firm grasps indent the soft flesh with your fingers and each of its nails, though the softness of her ass and thighs beg to be slapped just like her tits. You succumb and emphatically smack that rear. “Aah! Fuck!” Yena shouts.

Punish the profanity that she lets slip with harder spanks. “I said you can scream, not fucking swear.”

Yet more profanities fumble out and your relentless cadence continues, both with your hands and your cock. The cycle of sounds endures as flesh claps against flesh and Yena puts all focus on staying loud without breaking your rules too much, wanting to leave some of her ass unscathed. Unfortunately, it’s too late, her butt tenderly stinging and her voice losing its intensity. You still ram her from behind with the same depth, the same speed, and the same strength, even when all that’s left is feeble whimpers and indolent sways of her waist, much slower than your own.

“C-can I cum, master?”

Don’t even dignify that with a response. Breathe through your nose, your lips pursed at the replete gratification around your cock, wet muscles swathing the whole length at a slightly prolonged stroke. Grab each cheek and splay that ass so that you can find the tight, winking ring above where your dick stays warm. A forceful spit, then your index finger teases at it with circles tempting to penetrate it.

“Please,” Yena sobs, much softer than normal, “May I cum, master?”

“No. You know the rules. Not like you deserve it anyway.” Your pet pays little heed to your fingers testing the entrance that she’s never even toyed with before. While you continue flirting at the dark hole with one hand, the other takes the stringy mess of clear wetness that leaks below her, the same juices that give your cock a veneer visible even in the low light of the nighttime.

Deeper into her pussy you embed yourself, her walls clasping and throbbing out of control. Aware she is finding it harder to hold back with her wild panting and moaning, you ensure she doesn’t get what she wants. Pull out then yank her onto her knees while you stand up on the bed. Yena holds herself back, only displaying disheartenment with her pouting bottom lip that sticks out. She keeps up her enthusiasm anyway. “Are you going to paint my face, master?”

Too involved with chasing your own orgasm to respond, you stroke your cock inches from her gorgeous face. Yena gives it a few careful smooches, unsure exactly when you’re going to cum because more than anything, she doesn’t want to waste your art by having it fly over her head onto your bed or anything else other than her face.

“I’m nothing but your cum dump, master. Please cum all over me, cum on my face, please master!”

Her begging always sets you off. Your last sight is Yena’s precious features, contorting in anticipation. Vision goes white while your legs tremble a tinge. The perfect canvas to use, you cover her in warm creamy streaks, emphasizing on her delicious lips until her entire face stains pale and sticky. Globs slowly drip from her chin while she sucks you clean with unmatched spit and polish. After a final mouthful, your conclusive bursts find their way down her throat to join the pre-cum already imbibed.

“Thank you, master.” Yena grins in satisfaction while she scrapes most of the seed on her face with her fingers.

After some heavy breathing, hers and your own, you both fall back onto the bed in relaxed sitting positions. Turn on the lights in your room with a switch on your bedside. “Name?” you say with a chuckle.

The charade dates all the way back to your first meeting. After a win at a music show that your group managed to sneak over IZ*ONE, you asked her a simple question on stage to her confusion. Back then, you just thought it’d be funny.

Now, it means a little more.

“Yena.”

Even when not in character, you brush your fingers in her hair like it’s a pet’s fur anyway; it gives you as much comfort as a real pet would. “Good girl.”

“That was really fun, oppa.”

“Thanks. You look great, Yena.”

Yena rubs her fingertips and plays with the semen on it before she licks it up. You get up from the bed.

“What, no thanks?” Toss her a towel and she wipes herself down.

“You’re gonna say that while I’m cleaning your cum off my face?”

“I’m saying that because of it, not in spite of it.” Unfasten the leash from her collar. Only now do you strip down to match her nudity, even surpass it; at least she has that collar. Flop onto your mattress and sink into it as every muscle relaxes in the radiance that follows your climax.

Yena cuddles up next to you in your bed after she gets the last sticky drops from her eyes. She really is a little kitten, curling up and fitting snugly in your arms. Only the sounds of waning respiration fill the room while her warmth fills your heart. Doe eyes look up at you until her blinking slows down to halt when her lids close. Eventually you end up similarly restful and in your post-orgasm rest, you become contemplative.

Bright lights. It's all roles. Performances. It’s impossible to completely separate yourself from your image, your persona is an extension of you. Serious yet friendly to the camera, while always charming and suave. You exaggerate your character, you focus on the key points that draw people in. She grasps this as well as you do, having trained for years. No need for a script, no need for acting classes, people always present an outward identity that isn’t a perfect replica.

Dim lights. It's all roles and performances too. Somehow, it’s the same and so very different. Again, this isn’t you, this is an exaggeration of you. You’re not a strict leader to your group but you become an overbearing owner in the night. Instead of reaching for external traits to amplify, you search for the truth inside of yourself. You need someone, a girl to bend to your will. That’s not the sort of thing you could admit out loud, which is why you’re fortunate to find a person so eager for her own truth, to be shaped and toyed with in the dark.

The question of which is truly you is a difficult one. Neither? Both? Questions fall to the wayside when fatigue takes its hold.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Light or dark, it’s more accurate to say both right now because though only blackness lies past the windows, within them, you forgot to turn off the light. Thus you stir, especially with Yena wriggling in your embrace, inevitable that one of you would wake up in the middle of the night.

“I’ve been thinking,” Yena whispers to break the silence. Her sultry tone entices you, it sparks warmth within you.

Open your eyes. The first thing you notice is how Yena’s nose almost touches the tip of yours, the second is the time, closer to morning than midnight. Finally, your own face looks back on the wall, the light in the room with the darkness outside creating a mirror.

“Ever since the group…” Yena pauses with a finger on her lip. “You know. I’ve been living with my parents.”

“You sure? Feels like you’re living here.”

”I know, I know. In fact, I told them I should find a place closer to all my activities. It was kinda tough explaining it to them but I had to try. Just needed somewhere to call my own. I love them, but it’s not the same as having my own home, umm, a new home. I’ve never had a new home before, or really lived anywhere other than my parents house and with IZ*ONE. I guess it’s not that uncommon at our age, but still, look at you...”

Put a hand on her shoulder to calm her thoughts down. “Hold up, hold up, that’s a lot to take in. Aren’t you gonna move into Yuehua’s dorms?”

“That stuff is still pretty up in the air. But not yet.” Yena puts the finger resting on her cheek on your lips. “Shh. I need somewhere to stay for a few months at least.”

“Good luck with finding a place,” you say with a wry smile.

“Oppa! Lemme convince you. I know this place is really expensive, but do you need all this space? Just to live alone? They’re gonna find out that one of Korea’s biggest love song writers is a complete loner eventually.”

“Yena, this is definitely not closer to your projects. You couldn’t get this kind of forest downtown. Trust me, I looked. Plus, I don’t think it’ll go over too well with the press. I’m an idol too, remember? When they find out I have an idol myself as a live-in fuck kitten, that won’t be fun to deal with.”

“W-well, did I say that’s what I was going to do?”

“Alright then. What is your method to convince me then?”

“Um. A dance?”

You scoff.

The basement has plenty of places for natural light to enter, with skylights from the courtyard letting ample enough in to see, even in the quiet hours of dusk. However, only lit by the moon, it’s much darker than the upper floors of your house. It’s nonetheless sufficient to avoid tripping over things such as iron plates, the squat rack, the rowing machine. You can also see the many mirrors in the open concept lower floor, leading to the entertainment room with its bar and projector, its floor a comfortable grey carpet. It’s more of a man cave than a dungeon, something you wish you considered during renovations as it would be appropriate now.

A metal chain connects to a load supporting column, on the other end, a familiar collar. Yena crawls around in a circle, thankful for the softness of the floor, and she repeats her words like some sort of mantra to acknowledge her bedroom roles. “I’m a nameless pet. I’m a toy only useful for her holes. I love when my master fucks those holes raw, but it doesn’t matter what I like.”

“Very good,” you acknowledge your kitten’s performative talent with an understanding that it comes from an authenticity within her. “You know you left your panties here last time.”

“Yes, master. I thought you’d like them.”

“They’re dirty. I guess that suits you though.” You take the underwear from your pocket. Earlier, you dressed yourself again and retrieved a pair from the stash while Yena followed her instructions to head to the basement. Pink, but more importantly, “Stained with my cum, your juices. Didn’t you wear this on stage too? Panorama, right?”

“Of course, master.” Throw the panties at your pet. It lands on her head, but it falls off, so she bends down and picks it up by the teeth, making a ball in her mouth. “Mmph.”

“Such a well-trained kitten, didn’t even know they played fetch. That’s more for dogs, but I don’t mind. I’m just not sure what you want.”

She drops the underwear to talk, but paws at it playfully while she does. “I want to please my master. I need to.”

“Only for today?”

“No. Everyday please, master.”

“Well, this is my house and if you want to stay in it, I don’t care when your schedule is. You’re going to be here like a good kitten when I come home, right?”

“Yes, master.”

“Here to suck my dick and wet my cock with your fuckhole on your knees and on the floor whenever, correct?”

Her nods are brisk, more assured. “Yes, master.”

“In that case, we’ll call it a deal, okay kitten? You can seal it with a kiss.”

Yena looks up at you, unsure for a moment, but quickly comprehends your request. Unzip your pants yourself, then she crawls towards it, panties balled up in one hand. Slowly back up, teasing her by keeping your erect length inches away.

“Don’t you want it badly?”

“I do, master!”

Grab her hair and slap her. “Your voice should be no louder than mine unless I tell you to, is that clear?”

She bobs her head up and down in swift approval. Yena sobs, though more at the lack of dick in her mouth than the punishment. When you reverse all the way to your bar, she continues moving forward, limb by limb. So close to your cock, yet when she leaps forward, the chain tautens and yanks her backwards which snaps her head back. You rush down to her level.

“Are you okay?” you mouth and she nods promptly. The fullness in your voice returns and you roll your eyes as you stand up. “Kitten wants my cock so badly, you turn dumb for it, right?”

“Yes, master.”

“Give me the panties,” you order. Yena complies, a meek paw handing them to you. The musky scent overwhelms you. It’s the same scent between her legs right now, the same scent on your sheets.

Before she joins Everglow, that scent will mark the whole house.

Conversely, if she doesn’t end up joining, it only means you’ll have more time for her to adjust to her new life. Whiff one last time before you set the cloth on the counter. Take your shaft with your hand and bend it towards her. Yena struggles but manages to ghost it with the tip of her tongue. Her licks thirst especially for the dot of white that dribbles from your slit, but out of her reach, she mewls and whines again.

“Tsk. You already have so much milk in your tummy. I didn’t even mean to feed you, I just wanted to slather your face and greedy little kitten had to eat it all up.” You rub your cock on her cheeks and forehead while you draw in a sharp breath. “Hsss. Tsk, I should’ve punished you then.”

With considerable weight, the slap of your cock on her face leaves new imprints to match the now pinker hand marks on her tits. Yena squeals with each whack but she keeps her mouth open and her tongue lapping, even if she can barely graze your erection. She pulls back and inhales deeply before a strangled noise indicates how she travails for a taste.

After enough to soak the underside of your shaft, you acquiesce—not out of any care to fulfill her wishes but just to balance out the moisture on your length. All you need is a slight buck forward and her mouth pounces on your dick, every drop of her drool coating it.

Yena takes her hands off the floor and holds onto your tip with her lips to keep her up as she tries to scoop up all the saliva. By twisting around the base of your rod, her right hand supplements the work of her mouth, unable to take you all the way down as the leash still constricts her, while her left hand gently toys with your sack. Instead of using her face like any of her other holes, having already done that moments ago, you let the raring girl assume responsibility. You don’t need to tell Yena not to get it twisted. The struggle between her hungry mouth and the collar on her neck cautions her that you’re in charge no matter what.

The travertine countertop digs into your hands as you lean back. “Fucking hell, you’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” Yena hums in a low moan around your cock.

“Like it’ll be the last time, nngh, when there’ll be plenty more in the future.” Shift your weight off the bar and right foot after left, shuffle in a circle around the column that fixes her.

Yena follows you much like an adorable baby duckling.

She can’t quack right now though. Again, your kitten keeps her mouth’s grip on your rod firm and steady even when the rest of her body is unsteady while she shuffles likewise, though on her four limbs.

You reach the back of the leather couch in your entertainment area, admittedly squirming as much as Yena because of her resplendent suction. Lower yourself behind the sofa until you’re seated on the floor, misusing the sofa for the sake of convenience. A longer chain would have been judicious, to let you sit on the cushioned seats, but you had no time nor willpower to think when you tied up Yena to the pillar.

Even on the rare occasion where you’re willing to bring yourself to her level, she doesn’t bother with eye contact, breathlessly bobbing her head away. Yena lets your cock free from her mouth, though still in a supplicant bow in your crotch, between your legs. “Master, please, may I ride you?”

“Did I say stop?” You spit on her face. “Did I ever say you can ask me for anything?”

“N-no. Master.”

You spread the spit all over her dainty features. While she wiped most of her makeup clean the first time, there’s still plenty to smudge, to vitiate the girl as the cock-hungry slut she tries so hard to be. To make your point, grab her chin and urge her to look back at you. Her eyes glaze with a speck of lust, a little more with fear that drives it. “Clearly you have more to learn. You’re lucky I’m spent. Get on top of that dick.”

Yena stifles a happy squeal before she carefully backs up. Slouch against the couch and the ground. Sure, the posture isn’t the best, but she needs a little more give in the chain for her to ride you properly. While your pet’s exigency to fuck your erection amuses you, sometimes you have to be more practical to chase your high. The two of you wordlessly find the perfect distance so that she can mount your lap while alleviating only a touch of pressure on her throat. As a substitute, fingers wrap around her neck. They don’t give more tension than the collar, but you press their tips anyway into the sides just to remind her true position, even while she’s physically above you.

“Are you going to cum without my permission?“

“No, no, of course not, master.”

“Okay. I don’t need to tell you what to do, right?”

With a hurried nod, Yena’s legs wrap around your waist. Though you can’t see much in the barely lit room, especially with the tits that distract your vision, the light touch and wetness of her cunt on your head inform you that her heat trickles out of her ambrosia, even more than before. She brings her body down, at first holding on to your shoulders, though recognizes from your stern glare that she is not to touch you. Yena puts her hands behind her back, and as a result, needs more force to split herself onto your cock. At every prior encounter, she was content leaving the hard work of penetration to you. The natural lubrication is almost not enough for her to kiss the base of your length under her own power.

You come to plenty of realizations, even as Yena accelerates the bouncing pace of her ass. She always enjoys something around her neck—whether it’s a collar that marks her as your property, or your strong hands that do the same when they leave purple on her milky skin—but by the way her pussy flutters every time you inflict more stress on her throat, you only now realize that it’s also about denying her one of a person’s most basic needs, the lack of air intensifying her arousal.

Though even the simplest of animals need to breathe.

“Master!” Yena cries out between strangled puffs of air. “You’re so big, hah, and you fill me up, hah, so well.”

"Didn't know a pet could talk like such a slut, but I guess my kitten's always in fucking heat huh? Telling me she needs to live here, she just wants to be a fuck hole all day, isn't that right?"

Your kitten doesn’t need to nod or vocalize her agreement in any way, you can tell by how little she pays heed to the chain that holds her back by the neck. Despite the fetter, Yena rides you as though your erection might disappear if she doesn't fuck herself onto you hard enough, if she doesn't cum all over your cock. Every bracing jerk up and down causes you to slump further into the floor, further into the couch, so you back up to fix your stance.

In return, she has to bend back herself, the chain unyielding as her ass follows your crotch in its repetitive motions. Once you reach your couch with your spine upright, Yena has to hold herself up on one arm behind, with her toes barely touching the floor in the awkward pose.

“I call you kitten but you’re acting like a slutty bunny that needs to be bred with how you bounce on that dick at any cost.”

The words set her off. “Master, please, I need to cum,” she says.

She doesn’t need to say it. You notice easily. The tightness is obvious.

More tellingly, her hands replace yours on her neck and you’re too adrift in your own lightheadedness to object. Plus she’s much less lenient with herself than you are.

“Cum, cum, master, please, I need it,” she repeats between uneven sighs.

“Hmm.” You pull yourself back up to a better posture, even if it means not leaning back on the couch. Kiss into her neck. It only brings her closer to her demise, especially when you leave more purple after you increase your suction on the sensitive skin. Your pet knows she needs to hold back. While you’re tolerant of her blubbering fucked-out disarray now, consequent punishments may cost more than one orgasm.

More than whatever sweet floral soap mixes and the territorial marking musk of sex, the smell of desperation hits your nose. Yena’s neediness is fragrant with the sweat splashing between your two bodies and saliva from her lips, kept open in a constant ‘O’ with pleasure. “Cum,” she rasps, though the sound barely comes out as a syllable from her slack mouth.

Thwack.

Thwack. The sounds of her ass leaping up and down hold you just as spellbound as the rest of your senses.

“Right,” she says, eyes wavering and searching why you aren’t answering. So Yena isn’t even trying to bait another punishment with an incorrect answer—or rather, request. Instead, she needs your friction, some stimulation on her tender little clit, anything at all but she is too absent in bliss to ask properly until now. “May I cum? Master?”

You hum and haw, your fingers rapping the floor. Your insouciance contrasts Yena’s vivid zeal, the sloppy expression that her face wears, her legs straining and bending to shove her ass all the way down your cock. Her pleasure doesn’t matter, but you can’t deny how it influences you; besides, you feel your vigor waning and need her walls to milk you dry so you can cum as well.

But is she a good enough girl? Her body is so delicious, her role, her act, her kitten routine so practiced, you might not even ask and concede to her if you were a weaker man.

“Are you a good pet?” you say by some remnant resolve.

“I am, I am!”

Before you can tell her to go ahead, Yena slams down, your cock twitching as much as her insides. “Not good enough,” you grit through your teeth.

Reenergized, assume control and fuck your dick up into her by bucking your hips. “Not good enough?” she whines, her tone falling.

“No.” Though the end product is the same—your shaft leaving and entering her body—you start to bear the brunt of the work, the brunt of your crotch into her butt that you hold up with two hands. Instead of Yena riding you, powerless to your cock, you claim your kitten as its rightful owner with your torrid plunges. Her breeding hole is glad to accept. You’re unable to lean back into the couch, because each thrust is so vigorous that it brings you closer and closer to the column. Jam your feet into the carpeted floor to redirect your momentum into Yena.

“I—I, I don’t know if I c-can hold it—” A particular graze of your cockhead against a sensitive spot interrupts her.

“I didn’t. Say. You could. Fucking cum,” you declare with stern pauses.

Internal heat melts your breath away, then sharp throbs originating from your crotch restarts that breathing. You’re near.

“If you’re going to be a good fucking kitten, you go at the word go, every single time. You suck at the word suck, ahh, ngh, you kneel at my command, and most importantly...”

Yena yelps and pulls back when you jab a couple fingers at her tummy, where a distension disappears and appears faster and faster, before your tongue sticks down her mouth and exits just as quickly.

“Ffff…” Hot air escapes your lungs when your focus shifts for a second back to the incredible sensations wringing your cock. “When I breed this messy pussy, you better remember your proper name. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Yena cries out.

One stroke.

Two.

“Cum.” You add approving grunts and slip a finger between her legs to help along, even if the single word is all she needs. Clear liquid spurts from her crotch, a slicker fluid joins the tensing muscles around your cock, and Yena whimpers with her lips firm against yours, slobbering and drawing out air and pleasure as much as she can. Her up and down motions dwindle, but her whole body palpitates.

The order is as much for you as it is for her. You can empathize with Yena. The earlier warmth and pulsations collide, and in that collision, they explode. Bright lights and dim lights dance in your vision again, even when the room appears darker than it ever has. Yena ensconces you wholly, from her limbs and tits clinging to you as much as her cunt, to her ever-present, ever-changing sounds that reverberate in your spacious basement. Unintended moans, your deep sighs of pleasure, her needy mewls looking for a last surge in her climax. You join in her reverie, your attention to the outside world fading. Every fateful meeting with Yena rolls through your mind, every role that you play. The inside you and the outside you blend as one while your sticky seed blends with her juices, its viscosity making her pussy’s suction unbearable. Yena’s tongue blends with yours too.

Work through the stimulation anyway. Shots and more shots of your cum fire into her edacious chamber.

You can only coax your eyes open for a moment to observe your artistry.

Beautiful pale skin stains with all sorts of red and purple and spit, while silky smooth legs quiver. Tight toned stomach bulges with your cock, large soft breasts press into your torso with its stiff bumps and a perfectly round ass ambiently jiggles with every ounce of your load, every spasm of your cock. Cherry red lips smear against yours, revealing a lighter natural color.

As you disconnect from your kiss, the two of you suspire, breaking the thread of spit to fall between your chests, though hers is more glossy wet. Yena smiles. It’s weak, but as proud as ever, its corner upturned like before.

Your hearts find its timing once again, her chest bumping heavily against yours. Some lazy grinding before she unsheathes you, and her breasts uncompress as she backs up though she straddles you. Yena takes whatever leaks and fingers herself with sticky digits.

“Still want more?” you ask.

“Mhmm.” Her reddish cunt is sore but she entertains herself with her hand anyway.

“So your name’s still not Yena?”

The kitten shakes her head.

“God, you’re gonna be a lot of work aren’t you?”

You peel the girl off your thighs, soaked with all sorts of fluid.

“Now if you really want a new home, be a patient pet for me, okay?” you say, as you grab an extra set of keys on the bar counter. “You might still be in the mood, but I’m just one guy. I need some air. I’ll be back later. I better find you in the same clothes you have right now, you know, like a good kitten. I wanna see you outside in my garden when I get back.”

Yena holds back a smirk. While she takes off her restraining chain, she keeps her collar on. Even if it hides the faint bruises, it designates her as your owner all the same. “Thank you.”

“Who knows? Maybe people’ll put two and two together when I post the pictures to my story.”

A dark Sunday dawn is perfect for a scenic drive.

A pet frolics in your garden.

A pearly trail drips out of her like a tail.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Shout out to @existslikepristin for their amazing feedback (you can also find them on AFF). This goes without saying but also shout out to Peach. Already told them this but I always wanted to expand on some quickies and I ended up choosing Pet, over my own quickies, plus this jumped past my very useful draft list, even over my own Yena draft. That's how much I liked it. Hopefully I did it justice.

#kpop smut #izone smut #reader insert #male reader #title tracks

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becomingbts · 4 years ago

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Time heals (sometimes) - Teaser 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: I was thinking of “Moonchild” and for some reasons, some memories I’d prefer to have forgotten came back to my mind and instead of making a full-blown panic attack like I used to, I thought that it would make a great plot if I mingled that with a soulmate and idol verse and that’s how I started going into it. This is going to be loaded with personal experiences, even if they’ll probably be a bit differently explained compared to what I experienced. Despite the heavy themes and many warnings, I hope you guys will like it. I think I really needed to write it. It will be a semisocial media AU!, because I like the idea of being to write some of their conversations through texts. However, I do plan on fully writing most of it. Though, you’ll have some updates about their social medias as I will update their profiles soon after you see this. I will probably mix a lot of different media for this story such as songs written and produced by myself. I’ll upload for real MC’s EP. So expect a lot for this story. Please take well care, feedback is always very warmly welcomed, it helps me to write for real. If you need to talk to someone, my dms are always opened and if you really don’t feel well, please call urgency numbers.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

"And we will close our night show with the most awaited segment! The audience jumped during the commercial break, it's amazing how many people just joined us! Welcome to our interview segment and especially, welcome and thank you so much for being with us Moon!”

"Of course, thank you for having me on your radio show."

"Thank you for coming! I have to mention that this is your very first interview with another media than your usual personal platforms like Vlive, YouTube, or Instagram, so we are honored to be the first ones to greet you! Do you plan on making more activities outside your personal schedule for the promotion of your new album?"

"If I may be honest, not really. I'm the most comfortable in my own safe zone and I tend to try not to get out of it too often. It might close some doors to me but I'm comfortable with my fans that way. However, I often listen to this radio show and a lot of my fans were enthusiastic about that so I thought: why not."

"Ah, thank you so much, it means a lot! Your fans are indeed a strong community and they support you whether you go to TV shows or not. Besides, you've been a very active artist on social media and your whole career started on YouTube and SoundCloud before you signed to your current agency. We have to congratulate you on your journey! It's barely been two years but here you are, with your second EP 'People'! Congratulations on the release!"

"Thank you very much."

“For our listeners who might not know who Moon is, I’m going to introduce her to you: Moon, your real name is (Y/N), you were born on August 4th, 1998, Incheon and your mother was American so you pursued your studies in America. You have been taking online classes since the start of your career at the HULT, university of Florida, and even recently got your Business Bachelor, now aiming for a Ph.D. You started your journey on Youtube, uploading covers and vlogs until you finally started producing your own songs, releasing them on Soundcloud. You started gaining a lot of followers; thus, you started on other social media such as Twitter or Instagram. One year ago, you release your first EP called ‘BALANCE’ which is the reason why the music label BigHit reached to you and asked you if you wanted to sign with them. Did I get everything right?”

“You are. It feels like you know my life better than I do.”

"Ah not at all, but thank you, I am glad that I didn’t say something wrong! Would you mind sharing the concept of this EP? Many of your fans probably already know but maybe some of our daily listeners might not!"

"Of course. As you said, 'People' is my second EP, yet the first to be studio recorded. Signing with BigHit is a big step in my career and it created a lot of changes, hence I decided to focus on the people I have met, stayed with, became close to, or detached myself from… This is dedicated to the people who changed my life, whether they intended to or not. It could be interpreted as my social life diary in a way."

"I see, many of your fans have said that the album held a very distinct duality, with a bright and a much darker side that made quite the storm on social media. ‘Y/N our Moon’ and ‘MOONISBACK’ trended for a few nights on Twitter. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?"

"I guess it was a surprise because this mini-album is really raw and uncensored. I didn't try to sugarcoat it nor to romanticize my experiences. I hope it brings comfort to people who haven't been feeling well. Because I think that it’s always easy to say that it's going to be okay to someone who’s not feeling well. Everything doesn’t suddenly become okay. And it's fine to be hurting, you can learn to live with this pain and move on while still hoping for better days. There is no end to hopes, and this is why my EP has a brighter side to it. Not everything is always a vast cold ocean. Sometimes, there are small or big waves that come crashing into our universe and they form something that we couldn't have imagined. They bring a little piece of sunshine in life and it helps to move on. So I hope that people who are struggling know that, despite how insignificant I might be, there is a person that understands and can relate to their struggles. I hope it can comfort them, even just slightly, to know that they are not alone."

"That's a beautiful way to put it."

"Ah, thank you."

"I have to ask because I'm really curious and I’m definitely not the only one: a lot of your fans have been theorizing about who could your title track ‘TIME’ be about? I have to ask you on the behalf of everyone. Is it okay for me to break the mystery?"

"Time is a track that shouldn’t have made it to the EP. It’s a bit like a fit of personal anger that I didn’t know I needed to let out.”

“Your anger was definitely heard and understood. People have been curious about the addressee of the song especially because of the line ‘maybe it’s time I finally let go of you’. So can you tell us who is it about?”

“Uh...Time was written for my seven soulmates who rejected me years ago."

"Seven!?"

"Yeah, it's a lot I know.”

“Is that why you have covered your soul mark with this tattoo on your arm? Netizens talked about it a lot; normally idols tend to cover their arm from the public eyes to avoid for their soulmates’ names to be known, but instead, you were proudly showing your tattooed arm, fully covering what might be under the ink. Many people assumed that it meant that you didn’t have a soulmate at all.”

“Well, I decided to cover the mark because there was no reason for me to keep it without hurting myself. I decided that I have been hurt enough to let myself take a rest. I didn’t see the point in hiding my arm either, I’m proud of my tattoo, I mean; it’s really a beautiful piece in my opinion. But to answer the assumptions, I don’t consider that I have soulmates anymore, hence why the tattoo as well."

"This is really a heartbreaking story, it must have been extremely hard. Breaking a soul bond is immensely dangerous, my link with my husband already itches when I spend the day away from him, so seven soul bonds? It must have been terrible."

"It was, but the most important is where I am now. I'm not lingering on that anymore because they made their choices and I thus made mine. I just hope that they all are healthy and happy where they are."

"I have to say I'm really impressed (Y/N)-shi, you really have a delicate and caring soul. I probably wouldn't be able to have such soft words about your soulmates had I been in your shoes."

"I think living the actual experience made me reflect on myself a lot. I'm comfortable where I am now, I'm able to do music and make what I love. I have nothing to complain about, I'm surrounded by lovely and supportive fans, I have the best manager I could have ever hoped for and a warm and healthy family. I don't need more on my side."

"I'm glad you are happy then. Many of your fans have pointed out it's really hard to make you smile and some wonder if you are happy, especially after the release of ‘TIME’, I don’t blame some of your fans for being worried."

"Ahhh, is smiling the only way to prove that we are happy? I believe my words are usually a bit more impactful than my facial expressions. I have to admit that I don't often smile, it's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, but I just don't feel the need to smile when I don’t feel like it. Besides, I get shy easily when I expose my emotions too much."

"It's hard to imagine you being shy but at the same time now that I have you in front of me, our listeners cannot see you, but I definitely feel that you have a very shy and reserved aura despite the energy you give off when you are on stage. It’s not unfriendly either, but you’re just very soft-spoken and quiet in everything you do. Like when you came in, I barely heard you entering at all; you’re just silently making your way without a fuss, it’s really endearing, to be honest."

"Ah... I’ve been told that my stage persona and the ‘me’ in real life were two different entities but I don’t really think it’s true. I'm extremely introverted and it doesn't really mix well with the stage. So I just put it on the side for the people who came to see me and deserve to see more than a 24 years old woman who has troubles speaking without stuttering in front of other people."

"You stutter when you have to speak in front of other people?"

"Sometimes it happens when I’m nervous, and I’m very often nervous. Like right now, I’m extremely nervous. But it's something I'm working on."

"Well it's definitely paying off because I couldn't sense that you were nervous at all, just very calm and soft, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine you being nervous enough to stutter."

"A lot of artists actually have stage fright, most of them just don't want to admit it because it doesn't sound sexy when you tell your fans you're actually shaking before going up there for the show."

"This is very true, but it's refreshing to hear it from someone who actually lives through that rather than fan theories."

"That's understandable."

"Our time is coming to the end, do you have anything you would like to add before we sadly get our mics taken away?"

"Oh uhm, everyone, my new mini-album 'People' came out very recently and yet it already received a lot of love so I want to thank you for that. This EP was a very personal project and I was worried about how it would be welcomed but you all made me realize that I have nothing to fear because we'll always find someone who can relate to our stories. As long as I can help even one person with my songs, then it's enough for me. Thank you for listening to me and my voice. I hope we'll be able to meet soon. Love you my fans and non-fans as well, please take well care of yourselves in those times. Be careful and stay safe. Wear your mask!"

“Thank you so much Moon for being with us tonight. Our time was short but I really enjoyed it, I hope our listeners were able to feel that very warm presence of yours through the mic. ‘Give Me A Song’ of Moon’s EP ‘People’ will now be playing and we will see each other tomorrow night with IU for the release of her new album LILAC. Take care!”

Comments or Ask to be tagged!

Uploaded : 08/04/2021

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bokunosimpfiction · 4 years ago

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Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

“Karl.”

“Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

“Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

“You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

“Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

“You sure about that?” You quip back.

“You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

“Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

“It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

“Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

“No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

“You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

“Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

“Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

“Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

#Karl Heisenberg #yandere Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping #fluff #well it's as fluffy as it gets with sarcastic reader-chan and yandere heisenberg #he thinks this is fluffy #because he's fucking delusional

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

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Shapes In The Clouds

Request: can I request a Sebastian x reader (age gap) where he proposes?

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: nun

A/n: Reposting because tumblr wants to be a lil bitch and not put my posts under the tag🙄 Hope you like it lovely, I’m so sorry for the long wait!💛

(Source: Pinterest)

You were a simple girl. You didn’t need anything extravagant or too loud just to appreciate something. You found joy in the smallest of things even if it was a bad situation you found the brighter side of things. You didn’t like being the center of attention. Honestly it terrified you if all the attention were on you. The eyes of everyone on you watching your every move made you want to sink into the floor and hide away from it all. You were quiet but you weren’t shy, your personality was the epitome of sunshine, as Sebastian would say.

Weirdly enough you ended up being the girlfriend of an actor. The opposite of everything you avoided. He had a different lifestyle. Movie sets, red carpets, bright lights, and parties were what his life consisted of. While yours was made up of offices, magazines, cups of coffees, and sleepless nights of endless work. Thankfully, Seb was one of the private ones. Yes, he was active on social media but that didn’t mean he shared every second of his life on Instagram.

Soon the messages turned into dates, and the dates turned into overnight stays at each other’s apartments. Now a year and a half later you two are living together in a homey apartment in the hidden streets of Manhattan.

You heard the sheets rustle as the human furnace beside you shifted in the bed. The arm resting on your chest tightened its grip around you, pulling you closer to their body. A content sigh left the body beside you.

“Sebba.” You groggily mumble, sleep still evident in your voice. You interlaced your fingers with his, cuddling his arm.

“Buna dimineata iubirea mea.” He greeted you with his morning voice that you were oh so fond of. You lazily giggle and turn in his grip, snuggling into his chest. A low chuckle emitted from his chest as he breathed in your familiar scent mixed with your shampoo. The scent together made him feel like he was home. You are his home.

“Don’t go jogging today.” You tangle your limbs with his and made sure to hang onto him like a sloth.

“Give me a good reason not to.”

“I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you.” You finally open your eyes and rub the sleep out of them. You were greeted with Sebastian’s crooked smile and his steel blue eyes. His hand reaches to brush some hair away from your face, his hand settles itself on your cheek.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” He feigns a thoughtful look as if he were debating with his options. Jogging or cuddling? Although Sebastian had other plans besides jogging or cuddling.

“But you’re a huge softie when it comes to my cuddles.” You stare up at him with puppy eyes. Sebastian nuzzles his nose against yours before answering, “I am, but I have other plans for today.”

“Like what?” You ask sitting up, “Today’s not an anniversary or something…right?”

“No, it’s not don’t worry.” He assures you. But it will be, Sebastian thought to himself.

You move to sit on his lap. Naturally, Sebastian shifts and rests his hands around your waist, his palms press against your lower back as he gazes up at you.

“Well, what did you have in plan, babe?” You ask threading your fingers into his hair. Sebastian hums in content.

“How about we pick up some food from that cafe you’ve been wanting to try near Central Park and have a picnic?” He suggests with hopeful eyes. He really hoped you would agree to his plan.

“Ooo, I haven’t been on a picnic in a while now. Let’s do it, I’m down.” You instantly perk up at the mention of a picnic. You missed being outside and sitting on the grass eating while admiring the view.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence.

“I guess that means we should get up now, huh?” Sebastian scrunches his nose.

“One more minute.” He mutters pulling you down so your head is resting in the crook of his neck.

“Make it two.”

🕗 Time Skip

You and Sebastian walked hand in hand on the streets of NY. The weather was perfect. There was a nice autumn breeze and it wasn’t too cold nor too hot. Sebastian knew this was your favorite kind of weather. Only because you got to wear knitted sweaters, ankle boots, and one of his jackets that were quite big on you.

The two of you walked towards the park. A bag of pastries in one of your hands and a tray of iced coffees in Seb’s free hand. When you guys finally found a secluded spot to sit at, Sebastian took out a blanket from his backpack. You guys sat across each other on the blanket, the pastries and coffees in between you two.

You open the bag and pull out a pain au chocolat (basically a chocolate croissant) from the variety of pastries. Holding it up to Sebastian’s mouth you ask, “You want first bite?”

He answers by opening his mouth wide and taking a huge bite. He moans as he chewed.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” You decide to take a bite yourself. When the buttery flakes of the croissant mixed with the chocolate filling entered your mouth it was like pure Heaven.

“Oh, wow.” Sebastian took an iced coffee out from the tray and gave it shake. He takes a straw out of the bag and pokes it into the lid. He held the cup up to you and motioned for you to take a sip. You hum in delight as you take the coffee from his hands. The next few minutes consisted of the two of you eating breakfast, feeding each other food, or wiping crumbs off the other’s face.

The pastries were now long gone. The two of you laid back on the blanket. Your head was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. You listened to his steady heartbeat as you two pointed out shapes in the clouds. Though his heartbeat began to quicken as you pointed at a specific cloud.

“Hey, that one looks like a ring!” You laugh as you point at the cloud. Sebastian freezes at the mention of a ring. His eyes widen for a millisecond before he regains himself.

“Where do you see that?” You gently place your hand on his chin to navigate his attention towards the cloud.

“Look, there’s the band and then there’s the diamond!” You trace out the shapes with your finger. Sebastian feels his breath get deeper and his hands getting clammy.

This was a sign from the universe that you should do this NOW, he thought to himself.

He pats his jean pocket to see if the box that held forever was still there. He let out a sigh of relief and adjusted himself so he was sitting up. While doing so he sat you up so you were sitting across from him.

“Funny you mention a ring.” He chuckles as he lovingly gazed into your eyes. A smile was on your face but the questionable look on you had was obvious. Sebastian takes your hand in his and runs his thumb across the top of it. He brings your hand up to his soft lips, his scruff tickling your fingers as he presses a kiss on it.

“I love you.” He began eyes admiring the different aspects of your face. “I love you so damn much.”

You laugh as you pat his cheek, “I love you too, baby. What’s going on?”

Sebastian takes both your hands into his.

“You are, the greatest thing that has happened to me. Sure, I’ve been in big movies and have a successful career. But that can all go away one day. One thing that I know for sure is that you won’t. For the last two years you’ve been the only constant in my life. You’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. You’ve been so patient and understanding with me and my horrendous schedules. Even when people hated on us for our differences, you didn��t give up on us. You’re the most amazing, beautiful, and talented woman I’ve ever met. I admire you and everything about you. Every little thing you do, that little nose scrunch, the way you hang onto me like a koala, everything.” Sebastian pauses as a nervous chuckle emits from his chest. You look at him in awe, tears forming in your eyes.

“You deserve the absolute world. I don’t know how I got lucky to deserve someone like you. I know this is a really shitty way of doing it but I just couldn’t help myself. I can’t hold it in any longer. I want all of you, for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” Tears are full on streaming down your face as Seb briefly lets go of your hands to get the box out of his pocket. He wipes the tears from his eyes to see you clearly.

“Wait, stand up. I have to at least do this part properly.” He helps you up to your feet as he kneels before you on one knee. He opens the infamous blue box from Tiffany’s. A store you’ve been fond of after watching Audrey Hepburn’s Breakfast At Tiffany’s. The box reveals a ring with a fairly large diamond that shone in the sunlight.

You wipe the tears from your face as you look down at him. Sebastian’s eyes shone in the light as they held your gaze. With one hand in his, he asked you, “(y/n) (m/n) (l/n), will you marry me?”

You immediately nod your head as you move to cradle his face in your hands.

“Yeah. Yes! Oh my god, yes, I’ll marry you!” You lean down as you bring his face closer to yours. Your lips meet in the middle. Time stopping when they touched, as he pulled you down for a passionate kiss, ignoring the taste of the salty tears that ran down your faces. You pull away for air, Sebastian quickly pecks your lips before you’re out of arms length.

He takes your left hand and slides the ring onto your ring finger. The ring fits you perfectly.

“I can’t believe you’re my fiancé oh my god!” You say in disbelief as you wrap your arms around Sebastian.

“Me either. I finally did it.” Sebastian says, mostly to himself. He’s been holding onto that ring for two months now, it’s about time he popped the question.

You lovingly stroke his cheek as your other arm is draped around his shoulder.

“Te iubesc mult.” You whisper against his lips, a smile making its way on your face. Sebastian’s smile grows even more when he hears you speak in his native language.

“Si eu te iubesc.” He replies as he smiles fondly at you.

“Also, are you crazy, Tiffany’s? Seb, that’s so expensive, I would’ve been fine with something else!” You scold him lightly smacking his chest. Sebastian chuckles as his arms squeeze you into his chest.

“I don’t care. You deserve the best.”

“As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”

translations

Buna dimineata iubirea mea - Good morning my love

Te iubesc mult - I love you a lot

Si eu te iubesc - I love you too

#ally’s requests #marvel #mcu #avengers #Bucky barnes #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel cast x reader

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ktheist · 4 years ago

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CEO!JK + - prompt list - + #47 “You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“you’re seriously like a man child.”

muses. ceo!jk

genre. e2l / arranged marriage

word. 2.6k

warnings. implied smut

synopsis. your family legacy is falling into ruins. your father is on his deathbed and your mother and sisters have never worked a day in their lives. their only hope is the jeons - the family of the fiancé you abandoned.

it can’t be said that you know nothing of jeon jeongguk per se. for one, he was lightly nudged in your direction by his mother at the age of 6 because he’d been hiding behind her legs since the jeon’s arrived. clad in navy blue kindergarten uniform and gripping tightly onto the brown teddy bear he uncreatively called ‘teddy’, he’d stolen a glance at you for a split second and fixed his gaze to the ground.

“____, say hi to jeongguk, you’re going to be seeing each other often from now on,” your mother nudged you from behind, her voice awfully sweet in the presence of mrs. jeon and her extremely shy son.

you’d found out at 11 years old and him 13 years old, what ‘seeing each other often’ actually entailed.

“i don’t wanna marry you!” you’d screamed in his face when you were left alone by the adults.

“i don’t wanna marry a kid with snot running down her face 24/7 either.” jeongguk’s retort, though held no substance, still made you wipe your nose on your sleeve after you’d left him and locked yourself in your room.

at the age of 13 and him 15, you’d managed to escape the clutches of your family by proposing the idea of attending a prestigious boarding school in zurich where you’d spent most of your adolescent years skipping classes and crashing parties.

by 18, you wanted to laugh at your teachers’ relieved faces when your name was called to receive your diploma, marking the end of your great era in that school.

that was when your mother called you back to south korea, claiming that she’d missed her youngest so very much. but you’d continued to make excuses to stay in zurich, applying for a scholarship and getting into a local university there.

none of your friends knew anyone from home and you’d only passingly mentioned that ‘oh, i don’t talk to my family much’.

but just as you were finishing your degree, the news of your father in his death bed latched onto your limbs and had you hopping onto the first flight home.

“what do you mean? so we’re broke?” yuqi’s voice cut through the air like a knife. even her ray bans couldn’t hide her burning gaze.

to think you willingly walked into this mess of a family.

“yuqi, let dad speak,” miyeon glares.

minnie asks after a lapse of silence, “dad, what do you mean the company’s wounding up?”

your father, a man with greying hair and cheeks losing most of their fullness, stares at nothing but the ceiling, as if seeing the angels welcoming him.

“do you remember uncle jee?” even breathing seems difficult for a man that used to work out everyday at the private gym and always invited you to join in on his healthy lifestyle, “he transferred all the company’s assets to his name and fled the country. even his family doesn’t know-”

“oh, for heaven’s sake!” your mother cries, shooting up from the sofa farthest from the bed - you should have known something was wrong when a wife wasn’t waiting by her husband’s bed and took the seat that’s on the far end from her husband, “just admit that it’s your fault! you trusted him too much even though i warned you about him! you ruined this family!”

“i should’ve brought popcorns,” soyeon says from next to you, shooting you an unapologetic - heck, even entertained smile - when you craned your neck out of mild disbelief.

this family’s a little fucked up in the head.

but they call you the black sheep that got away.

“so what now? do we have to... work?” soojin asks, a horrified look spreading across her face.

those several inches nails aren’t made for work. that’s for sure.

“the jeons...,” he coughs, “jeongguk promised to help us rebuild the family business because my father - your grandfather, supported the jeons when they were starting out.”

all of a sudden, seven pairs of eyes turn to you as if you’re the rabbit in a cage full of wolves. the air turns chilly as if someone’s turned the ac to a minus degrees celcius.

“well, don’t look at me, i haven’t talked to him for 9 years,” despite your hands held up and your shoulders almost making your neck shrink into your body, all they see is a little gold piggy bank.

“what? what about the times when we talked on the phone? you sounded so close!” your mother’s source of rage shifts to you.

“well, i mean, he’s pretty active on instagram-” you couldn’t even properly finish your sentence when a hand lands on your shoulder and you’re staring into your reflection in yuqi’s ray bans.

“start talking,” her cherry lips curl as she holds out your phone that you don’t even notice she’s swiped out of your hand bag which, “hey, how did you-” you remembered was zipped shut.

“you got something to tell me?” the jeongguk before you wears a smirk that exudes confidence and billion dollar legacy backing him up.

no longer the shy kid that avoids the gaze of those he’s not used to and keeps his head hung low. if anything, his chin is looking too tilted for your liking. though you can’t say the same for the muscles that fill out his suit and wraps around his biceps a little too snug.

he’s finally foregone the side swiped bangs and grew it enough to have it tied back into a man bun, enhancing his sharp jawline and proving once and for all that puberty isn’t just for anyone.

the hesitant hum reverberates against your chest. you can only hope that it’s not audible for persons besides yourself, “you look great.”

his head drops as he chuckles but you can still see the way his jaw clenches, cutting off every humor that’s ever present before looking straight at you through his lashes, “can’t say the same for you.”

you resist the urge to shoot up, handle of your handbag tucked in the juncture between your arm and forearm and strut out of the restaurant without looking back.

“that rotten attitude of yours hasn’t changed i see,” allowing the smile to sneak up your face, you feel your nails digging into your palms underneath the table, rooting you back to your reason for being here.

“it’s the thinking you’re better than me for me,” he states, back leaning against the chair.

“oh, baby, i am better than you,” the words escape your lips as naturally as breathing does.

“i don’t know about that, i certainly wouldn’t bring an on-and-off boyfriend of mine to a restaurant where my potential clients usually go to,” there’s a gleam in his eyes.

but before you can dissect the meaning of his words, the sight of a familiar jet black haired man trudging from toward your table with a distorted expression and waiters hurrying after him from a few steps away - catches your attention.

“___! baby, i’m sorry!” if you look closer, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes when he spots you.

“eric,” the hiss under your breath is venomous, threatening, “what are you doing here?!”

“i’m here for you, baby. i realized you’re the only one for me,” he drops to his knees, pulling out a velvet red box from his pocket. the waiters that were chasing after him now freezing, looking at each other back and forth before eric proclaims his undying love and his desires to, “i don’t want to live a life without you- marry me, baby!”

“stop,” you say curtly, body involuntarily leaned forward to make sure your voice reaches him. the sight of a smirking jeongguk adds to oil to the flames growing inside of you, “stop it. you’re acting insane, right now.”

“...i promise, i’ll never cheat on you again...” eric goes on, tears freely streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders sag, “i even tattooed your name on my chest.”

the italic curls of your name is inked in black a few inches underneath his left collarbone, probably where his heart is supposed to be. but at the moment, all you can see is jeongguk’s leisure wine drinking, “oh my god, security. please, take this man away, he’s disrupting lunchtime.”

the two waiters seem to snap out of their initial trance, marching over to eric and gripping his arms with all their might before dragging him away at the manager’s instructions. it’s only then, do you notice the flash of camera from one of the tables on the farthest left side of the restaurant, its position allowing for a full view of your expression and possibly only a view of jeongguk’s back.

“you,” a whisper slips out of your mouth once you’ve assured the manager that everything was settled and you’d continue eating, “you planned this.”

“what an assertive deduction. i almost thought you would’ve missed it altogether,” he remarks, a look of pure awe spreading across his face.

“fuck you, jeon,” slamming your fist against the table, you slip out of your chair and march out of restaurant, fully aware of the eyes that follow you until you’re out of sight.

no word got out.

sns was oddly silent about the incident at the restaurant but your sisters know anyway. shuhua knocks on your door, fixing you one of her calming smiles before dropping the bomb.

“mother and elder sisters don’t know, i’m not gonna tell them but i think it’s better if you talk to jeongguk about it.” is what she suggests.

but she doesn’t know he was the one that orchestrated it, as if your life was a show and he was there for a good time. either way, to ease your sister’s heart, you make your way to jeongguk’s office.

he made you wait for a good two hours, having his assistant retell that he’s busy and can’t be disturbed at the moment. but once you’ve had enough, you barge into his room, nails digging into your palms at the lack of meeting partner and the man’s too casual appearance with his blazer draped over his recliner and his sleeves folded up till his elbow.

“i heard you were in a meeting,” you announce, making sure to glare at the secretary that stopped dead in her tracks when you managed to slip past her and through the door of jeongguk’s office.

“as you can see, i’m quite busy,” he nods, hands gesturing at the open mac in front of him.

“what are you playing at, jeon jeongguk?” a smacking sound echoes through the air as you slam your palms on his mahogany table, glaring down at him “because i swear to god, i will make sure you regret messing with me.”

but instead of the panic you hope to raise, a chuckle trickles out of his lips, “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

how the prettiest pairs of lips could smirk like that is beyond you. natural pink lips, curving deviously as his bunny lips peek innocently underneath. you don’t notice you were staring until his voice fills the silence, forcing you to tear your gaze away from those kissable lips and meet his gaze.

“you really do wanna kiss me,” there’s that gleam in his eyes - that of realization and something - something - you can’t pinpoint.

gone is the boy that used to tell you your pigtails are lopsided and proceeded to fix it for you - he made it worse but you didn’t really mind because it was the effort that counted.

but that was almost a decade ago.

“you’re seriously like a man child,” you shake your head, the initial reason of marching over to his office now shoved to the back of your mind. the last thing you want is to be in the same room with a man who seems to only be interested in making someone else’s life his own personal entertainment.

but before your fingers brush the metal handle of the double doors, another hand brushing on top of yours, feather-light fingers pleading for you not to walk out on him.

“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t sound like the jeon jeongguk you’ve come to know within the short span of time - like a man stripped off his cards and games, “i went too far.”

you don’t - can’t - say anything but your body isn’t exactly listening to your mind’s instructions to move out of his grasp. out of his presence.

“i didn’t know the reporter was there - i made sure he’s keeping his mouth shut after you left,” his breath is hot against your neck and his front brushes against your back but not really touching.

“why did you do it? why did you bring eric all the way here?” you pray to thank the stars for the strength in your voice despite the feeling that’s slowly disappearing from your knees.

“i found out you guys broke up because he cheated.. i wanted to make sure he knew you were mine,” his clicks his tongue, “i didn’t know you dated such a psycho-”

your world spins for the briefest moment before you come face to face with a wide eyed jeongguk.

“first off, you don’t own me,” you announce, arms coming to cross over your chest in show of protest, “and second off,” the semblance of surprise and panic finally slips through his facade when your hands grip his collar, “kiss me.”

the last thing you remember is jeongguk nodding ever so slightly before his eyes flutter shut just miliscends before yours. you feel his arm band around your lower back, free hand digging into your hair and pulling you closer into the kiss. he tastes like mint and lemon candies that your nanny used to give you and you’d give it to him, saying something like “it’s my favorite candy but i like you so i’ll let you have one”. you don’t miss the small jar he keeps on the side of his desk full of those candies.

but the matter of this and getting married in order to save your family from falling into ruins are two different matters altogether.

and somewhere down the line, you find yourselves still arguing about the littlest of things.

“um, what do you mean that red roses aren’t romantic? it’s literally the symbol of undying love,” surprisingly enough, it’s jeongguk that’s fighting for the fiercer shade of the petal.

“you think fuchsia pink doesn’t symbolize love?” you roll your eyes.

then comes the time when your mother and magically healed father asking for a grandchild to which jeongguk grins, “we’re working on baby jeon.”

(you’re married and the petals themed in your wedding are both fuchsia and garnet)

“excuse me?” you turn to him, brows arching. that alone warrants a break of cold sweat on jeongguk’s forehead as he cautiously laughs.

“i mean, w-we’re not ready yet.”

rather, you’re not ready to forego your child-less phase in exchange for late night awakenings and learning cry-languages.

but you’re not exactly being careful either, what with the two of you finding the holes in time to slip away from your family and into your childhood room only for jeongguk to slam you against the wall and bend you over the vanity.

“jeongguk did you bring a condom?” you ask.

“i’ll pull out,” is all he says and you’re barely listening as you clasp your palms agaist your mouth, trying not to let out the moans pass through your lips.

when you go back to your family, jeongguk’s arm is around your waist and you both sit together as you joke and laugh with your sisters whilst jeongguk raises a glass to joining your dad at the gym.

note. hope yall enjoyed!

see drabble game! for how to request!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts x yn #jungkook x yn #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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xbaepsae · 4 years ago

Text

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can’t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

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deshirea · 3 years ago

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hello, hello, hello ! i’m rolling in fashionably late in true desirae style ! i am carra, 24 years old, goes by she / her, from the cst, and super stoked to be here ! i haven’t been in a group in so long, like literal years, but i seen kat [ fully just disclosing that i follow on main lmao ] post the teaser graphic and i was literal heart eyes. i almost didn’t submit my app bc i was scared that i wasn’t making the cut, but i pushed through and i’m so glad that i did and that we’re all going to be writing with each other ! my app is super long and i’m in the works of tidying things up and adding more depth bc i’m a perfectionist, but i’ll link my favorite little bits under the cut.

the full application if anyone’s curious, don’t want to limit you beauts.

the carrd for starters, it’s still under construction, but you can find her statistics and just some little blurbs i thought was cute.

her favorite colors are maroon and money green.

at one point of her childhood, around age 8 - 9, she actually yearned for a sibling. after spending so much time around the bouiette siblings, it was inevitable. the desire was cut short when she realized that she’d have to share everything she owned with said sibling if she ever got one, and when that thought popped into her head, she made sure to never comment on it again. looking up at her parents with those big doe eyes, snuggling up to them, and making sure they knew that she ‘had the best family ever,’ and that she was more than content.

she writes almost everything down as soon as it pops into her head ( not wanting to risk forgetting amid everyday activities ) on whatever is nearest to her at the time. whether it's her phone, a notebook, etc. she has various voice memos [ not entirely all just her voice displayed on them ], note entries labeled with the date, and sticky notes in her purse.

despite what people may think, desirae isn’t perfect. the young adult gets into her fair share of mess just like everyone else, she just knows how to clean it up properly. if she needs to point attention to her peers’ mistakes to sweep her own under the rug, she’ll manage just fine. most of the time, the tabloids that do make the cut are in her favor, and if they do catch her by surprise, she’s quick to swing it whichever direction she needs to.

constantly outweighs the pros and cons of the decisions she makes. sometimes the cons win out, but she’s game to test the odds, most of the time it turns out in her favor.

her instagram and stories are calculated from the content all the way down to the sappy captions. her recent feed consists of first class flights, dinner dates, outfits of the day, fashion tips, and throwbacks.

isn’t the type to flat out spill her drink on you, but somehow she’s magically there, settled in the background, and somehow uncharacteristically quiet when it happens?

has never had an actual romantic relationship, but has been coy enough to keep all of her entanglements out of the public eye which she believes puts her at an advantage when it comes to the love club. ironic to the name, the brunette doesn’t let distractions get in her way and keep her tied down to anything besides what’s truly important. or at least that’s what she believes.

has her belly button pierced, both standard and industrial lobes, and her grandmother’s birthday in roman numerals tattooed on her left wrist that she revealed in an exclusive video with elle, just after her nineteenth birthday.

has to often remind herself not to enjoy the love club’s commentary in the group chat too much, and often mutes it when they manage to get a genuine smile out of her. it never lasts for too long though, because she can’t miss out on any subtle hints.

#・。 ◟ 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 › ❪ record scratch. ❫

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melanielocke · 4 years ago

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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 10

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

CW: Discussion of toxic relationship

Lucie was under the impression Alastair liked Thomas, but Lucies texts only made him more nervous. Even if Alastair smiled back, even if some things he said could hint at romantic feelings, Thomas had no clue how to make a move on people, much less Alastair. After dinner, they talked a bit more, about books, history, places they wished to travel. Alastair told him that he’d once read Machiavelli’s the Prince for comfort, but had since replaced it with Marx’ the Communist Manifesto. Thomas, who read mostly fiction, found it hard to imagine those books as something one read for comfort, but he promised he’d give the Communist Manifesto a try.

‘My ex recommended the Prince,’ Alastair explained. ‘In retrospect, the book suits him pretty well. It’s about power, manipulation, and he was all about that.’

‘As in, he manipulated you?’ Thomas asked.

‘He wants to get into politics, and I think he cares more about holding a position of power than about doing what’s best for the country. But he also manipulated me,’ Alastair said, showing no emotion. ‘He was very obsessed with his own social status and image, and would have done anything to improve that. I would not have reflected well on his image, so he kept me a secret and made me believe it was what was best for me.’

Thomas was certain he would be a better partner to Alastair than his exif they were in a relationship, but figured that was a pretty low bar. He didn’t know much about relationships, had never been in one, and wasn’t sure he knew how any of that worked, or how to be with someone with such a bad past experience. He didn’t want to hurt Alastair by accident. Perhaps his parents had some advice, but then he’d first have to tell them he liked boys. Which he planned to, but he had not yet figured out the right words, the right occasion.

‘How did you come out to your parents?’ he asked Alastair.

His parents were outside, they wouldn’t overhear. Thomas hoped they wouldn’t walk in out of a sudden, but if they did… Well, then at least they’d know and Thomas wouldn’t have to prepare a speech.

‘I only came out to my mother and aunt Risa,’ Alastair said. ‘Not to my father, nor do I care to.’

‘So, did you prepare a speech or anything?’ Thomas asked.

‘I did, because I suspected my mother and aunt Risa might not understand or know much about gay people, so I’ve mostly been educating them on various sexualities and gender identities. Risa actually discovered she is asexual and aromantic after I explained those concepts to her. Why do you ask?’

Thomas turned red, he laughed nervously. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell my parents I’m gay, but haven’t found the right time, or figured out how to tell them.’

‘You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. Do you want them to know?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas considered Alastair’s question for a moment. ‘Yes, I do. I think it would be easier if they knew and I would rather tell them before I am in a relationship instead of introducing a boyfriend. Since that would be awkward for him as well. Mainly, I just want them to know but I don’t want an awkward conversation.’

‘I think your problem is that you’re too determined to do it perfect,’ Alastair said. ‘Your parents seem very open and accepting, I don’t think you have to worry.’

‘No, I know that,’ Thomas said.

He felt stupid. Alastair must have had a much harder time telling people, he hadn’t known beforehand that his mother would be accepting. Thomas was fairly certain his parents would love him no matter what, and yet here he was complaining to Alastair about how difficult he found it to come out.

‘I know it can still be scary,’ Alastair said. ‘I was fairly certain Cordelia wouldn’t mind at all, yet I postponed telling her for a long time. Of course in my case it could have saved me a lot of misery, had I told her sooner.’

‘What do you mean?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized almost immediately after I told her that my ex boyfriend was treating me badly, when I did not. It took her a couple of weeks to convince me, but I realized she was right and then I broke up with him.’ Alastair paused. ‘It’s nice to have someone to talk about it. For a long time, I had only him and he actively discouraged me from telling anyone else.’

‘I’m guessing he wasn’t out?’ Thomas asked. ‘He thought being gay would reflect badly on him as a politician?’

‘No, I don’t think that was the problem. He was private about his sexuality, but I think his friends and family knew. I don’t blame him for that, I understand it’s not always easy to talk about and there can be consequences when people know. But I think in his case, he didn’t want people to know about me because I was so much younger, he probably knew grooming a teenager would reflect badly on him. He always said it was because I wasn’t out that he wanted to keep our relationship a secret, that he wanted to protect me from judgement, but I doubt that was true. I never wanted to be someone’s secret.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Wait, how much younger were you?’

‘Six years. I met him when I was fourteen and entered a relationship with him at sixteen.’

Then Alastair’s ex must have been twenty two at the time? Thomas, at eighteen, considered sixteen year old boys children and had no romantic interest in them. He preferred to look at boys his own age, maybe a little older. Despite being a year ahead in his education, Alastair was only a couple of months older than him. He couldn’t imagine being interested in a teenager when he was in his early twenties.

‘I didn’t realize at the time that the age difference was a red flag,’ Alastair explained. ‘I felt very mature, to have caught the attention of someone older. He told me, over and over, that I was very mature for my age, that he couldn’t believe I was still so young.’

Thomas suspected most teenagers would be flattered to be called mature, to be taken seriously by an adult. It was a vile sort of manipulation, to seek out someone young and vulnerable and isolated, someone who would easily fall for such compliments, only to take advantage of them and treat them badly.

‘How did you tell Cordelia?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized something was not right,’ Alastair said. ‘She realized I was sneaking out at night, that I was barely eating and losing weight because I was so nervous. She said I was “being even more difficult than usual, and that’s saying something”. So I told her not to worry about it and that I was just sneaking out to see my boyfriend. I said I’d wanted to tell her, but wasn’t sure yet if I was ready, and that he had recommended I don’t tell anyone yet. She started asking a lot of questions about my relationship. At first it was in a supportive way, what did he look like, what were his interests. She kind of freaked out when she learnt about the age gap, and the more she asked about how he treated me, the more concerned she became. She’s been very protective of me ever since.’

‘I’m so sorry. Not that it’s my fault, or there’s anything I could have done, but I’m just sorry. That it happened to you. I’m glad your sister is protective of you. As long as she’s not too protective, I mean,’ Thomas said. ‘I know from experience too much protection can be suffocating.’

A small smile appeared on Alastair’s face, and Thomas realized he so rarely did. He had a very pretty smile that lit up his dark eyes.

‘I found it confusing most of all. As the oldest sibling, I always thought it was my duty to protect her, not the other way around. But Cordelia is fierce, and I love that about her. This one time we ran into him while shopping, not long after the break up. He tried to approach me while Cordelia was getting us ice cream, and when she returned and saw him she threatened to expose him as an abuser and child groomer on all her social media channels if he didn’t back off.’

‘Isn’t what he did illegal anyway?’ Thomas asked. ‘Since you were a minor? Couldn’t you go to the police if he kept harassing you?’

‘Age of consent is sixteen, so even if he was much older it was legal for him to have sex with me,’ Alastair explained. ‘It would be illegal if he was my teacher or in any way in a position of power over me, but he was not. He must have been aware of how those laws work and I think perhaps he waited until I was sixteen so it would be legal.

Him harassing me might be enough to get a restraining order, but honestly I don’t trust the police to believe me over him. Besides, I have no intention of sharing something so personal with police officers. I expect them to not care at best and I think it is likely they will be racist and homophobic and will blame me for what happened.

Cordelia has enough followers on twitter and Instagram to get the story out if we wanted to and it’s a decent threat, but I’ve asked her not to.’

‘From what you’ve told me, he fully deserves to be exposed,’ Thomas said.

He was angry on Alastair’s behalf, and Thomas guessed Alastair was right that as an Iranian gay man he could not trust the police to help him.

‘It’s not so much about whether he deserves it or not. I’m still processing what happened, and I don’t want to be judged by strangers on the internet. I consented to everything sexual we did even if it was coerced, and not everyone will understand all the subtle manipulation involved. I know people will claim it was all my fault, and if I didn’t want it I should have just said no. Or that after breaking up I decided to ruin his life by telling lies. He has powerful friends, I do not. I admire the bravery of the people who expose rapists and abusers on the internet, but I can’t put myself through that right now.’

Thomas felt nauseous, the idea of Alastair being manipulated into having sex with a much older man was difficult for him to process. It made him angry, Alastair had given this man everything, had loved him. How could someone have taken advantage of such a beautiful and passionate man? People often accused Thomas of being too kind, too compassionate, of trying to empathize too much with people who did bad things, but he was fairly certain that if he ever encountered the person who did this to Alastair, he would feel nothing but anger and hatred towards him. And he’d make sure whoever it was would never hurt Alastair again.

He wanted to show support, he wanted to love Alastair, but wasn’t sure how. He knew it was a big step for him, to open up so much, he knew Alastair was very private and trusted him as much as he knew how to trust. Thomas was terrified of letting him down, of breaking his trust.

‘Did he at least back off after that threat?’ Thomas asked.

‘I haven’t seen him in real life again, but he has been texting me until I blocked his number. He is part of the reason I came here, something I needed to get away from. You have provided a decent distraction and I am grateful. I have never… had a friend like you.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement. He liked being trusted, he loved that Alastair valued him, but at the same time he wanted to be more to him than just a friend. But Alastair needed a friend, Thomas told himself. And perhaps Alastair would fall in love with him over time, perhaps someday they could be together. If not, being his friend would still be worth it.

‘Now, would you want to play another game of ludo before I return to the Herondales? I am certain the dice will be on my side this time,’ Alastair said.

The dice were not on Alastair’s side. The difference in rolls were at the very least statistically improbable, but Thomas wasn’t great at math. He won by a landslide.

‘You’re older than me,’ Thomas offered as an explanation.

Alastair frowned. ‘Only by a few months, and what does that have to do with anything?’

‘I have a theory that dice games like this one favor the young,’ Thomas explained. ‘I used to play this game with my sisters and I always did better. Of course, Barbara would usually let me win with games, but that’s difficult with a game like this. But most of my friends are younger than me, and with Lucie I don’t have nearly this amount of luck. And when I played with my younger cousin Alexander, my rolls are as pathetic as yours. Of course, that’s for the best because he’s three and he throws the game across the room when he loses.’

‘Nothing you just said makes sense,’ Alastair pointed out. ‘The dice can’t tell how old you are.’

‘Perhaps there’s a little spirit in there,’ Thomas said with a smile. ‘Something that realizes if little Alexander loses, painful things will happen to it. It probably dreads the day Alexander will play against children his age.’

Thomas guessed that might not be the best idea, at that age all children were sore losers. Most three year olds didn’t play together yet anyway, it was more parallel play what they did. Alastair left after losing another game, and at the end Thomas might have convinced him of his theory.

‘I’ll meet you here after breakfast for another walk,’ Alastair said with a small smile that made Thomas’ heart race. He hoped he wasn’t showing that. Would Alastair suspect Thomas liked him, now that he knew Thomas was gay? He wasn’t sure if he wanted Alastair to. If Alastair returned his feelings, sure. But if not, what if Alastair would retreat in his shell again, what if he didn’t want to be his friend anymore?

‘See you tomorrow,’ Thomas said. ‘Good night.’

Thomas didn’t sleep well that night. He dreamt of a castle, surrounded by dark forest. He didn’t know where he was, or what was happening. On a surface level, it didn’t even seem so scary but a voice inside Thomas was telling him to run as fast as he could to get away from there, yet he couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure what he was running from exactly, but he woke up drenched in sweat at six in the morning. He didn’t feel rested exactly, but didn’t think he’d fall asleep again, so instead he changed the sheets on his bed and took a quick shower before putting on some clothes.

It would probably be some time until Alastair showed up, so Thomas made breakfast, and took his time to eat before settling in the garden. Gnomes were early risers, and Thomas liked watching them run around. Here they weren’t used to being seen though, and any indication that Thomas did see resulted in them running away and hiding, peeking out of the bushes on occasion to see if he was still there. Thomas put out a plate of cookies, perhaps they would become more trusting to humans who could see them overtime.

He sat there, reading a book Lucie had given him a while back. Ever since Thomas had told her he liked boys, Lucie had recommended books about queer men and right now he was reading Winter’s Orbit, a science fiction story about two men in an arranged political marriage. The amount of miscommunication and hopeless pining was almost painful to read, but also enjoyable. Thomas guessed he wasn’t much better, he still had no idea how to tell Alastair how he felt. Hopefully, he could finish the book before dying, he desperately wanted to know if these two could figure out their feelings for each other before it was too late.

‘What are you reading?’

Thomas looked up to see Alastair, dressed in a black Metallica t shirt and black jeans. He summarized the book he was reading.

‘It was a gift from Lucie,’ he said.

‘It sounds interesting,’ Alastair said. ‘I like books with some political drama. Can I borrow it when you finish?’

‘Sure. And in case I don’t get to finish it, I’ll write you into my will and leave you this book.’

Alastair groaned. ‘Please do not make jokes about you dying.’

Thomas sometimes felt like making jokes about it was the only way to cope. In reality, the idea that he was very likely to die was terrifying, even if the people around him kept assuring him he was going to be fine.

‘Sorry. I hope you’ll like this book. Although… one of the main characters was abused by a previous partner. Would that be an issue?’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘I think then maybe I should wait until I read it. That’s difficult with reading fiction, not all authors offer content warnings and going in unprepared can be devastating. When I know it’s coming… It’s easier, but I’m not sure if I want to do that right now solely to read a book.’

Thomas nodded. ‘I can imagine. If you want any books that don’t have topics that are triggering for you, I’ll try and see if I have anything. Or you can ask Lucie.’

‘I’ll think about it. Being able to read fiction while being prepared through content warnings is something I’m trying to work towards. No idea how long that will take, according to my therapist I’m too impatient. You coming? This early, there might still be some hedgehogs,’ Alastair said with a grin.

‘You really like hedgehogs,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘When I was a child I wanted one for a pet, but my parents didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, I could have a goldfish. They’re very popular in Iran, people get them for the Persian new year celebration, Nowruz. People usually release them into a river or pond after the celebration, so that’s what Risa did. My parents weren’t too happy about it. At the time, I believed he would probably be happier there anyway than in a bowl, but it is likely he died within days. I don’t think it’s good for the environment either, and many Iranians are pushing back against the tradition because of that. Did you have pets growing up?’

‘Most of my childhood, because I was so sick, my parents didn’t think it was a good idea. They were afraid a pet might carry diseases I would be more vulnerable to,’ Thomas said. ‘But I hope I can adopt cats someday. And Barbara and Oliver have two guinea pigs.’

‘My cousin Jem has a cat,’ Alastair said. ‘Little beast hates everyone, but adores Jem.’

‘Do you see him often?’ Thomas asked. ‘Jem, I mean.’

‘Not really. My father never wanted him near our family, I think because he was afraid Jem would see right through him. But now that we don’t live with Father anymore, I see him occasionally. He offered me to come live with him, but I’m not sure. I still feel like I barely know him.’

They didn’t find any hedgehogs during their walk, presumably because the fog had gotten so thick they wouldn’t see any if they were there. Although Thomas was fairly certain they were taking the same route they had yesterday and during their first walk, everything looked different. He told himself it was probably the fog, but he couldn’t quite convince himself.

‘I don’t remember these ruins,’ Alastair said.

Thomas’ followed Alastair’s gaze and saw the ruins of a very old building. Of course, there were lots of old castles in Scotland, but Thomas hadn’t read anything about ruins in these woods.

‘Do you think we should take a look?’ he asked carefully. ‘I’m not seeing anything unusual.’

‘Apart from ruins that weren’t here yesterday?’

‘We must have taken a different path,’ Thomas said.

‘Sure,’ Alastair said and Thomas didn’t think he believed it. ‘Under normal circumstances, I would not take another step, but if we are to save your life we need information. Perhaps those ruins hold something of interest.’

#Thomas Lightwood #Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fic #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

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