Tumgik
#cause no matter if I finish anything else there; at least the one core project at spawn will be done
medicinemane · 1 year
Text
Well, decided to call it there for minecraft. Still got a reasonable amount to go, lots to go on getting that whole area done, but like... if I did, that's almost 1/3 of the base taken care of... well... maybe more like 1/4 since I also need to do the nether, and I always forget that but it really does need to get done
(No matter how much it sucks... and it sucks because netherrack looks like ass and also lacks... if I could just have like the... nylium or whatever it's called, if I could have a version where that was growing from the bottom of the block and I had it in stairs and slabs this would be easy... it's inventing something that looks natural, like the nether, and not totally like ass to go on the ceiling that's the issue)
(Also... this is less a nether issue and more of a me issue, but I'm still having trouble figuring out a nice building to put around portals... like the ground, more or less know exactly how I want that to look and more or less how to spawn proof it... but the ceiling and buildings... that's the rough part)
Anyway, point is getting the underwater shit designed would be a huge part of the base done
It'll take a ton of time to actually install this design, and it'll almost certainly mean we have to make a couple farms, but man... be so nice to have this well and truly done
I always look forward to the day I can call the base done, really done, really get to show it off while moving on to new areas
0 notes
Text
I’m behind on reading/commenting ugh. I did read one of the fics that updated but it made me sad. But like it wasn’t even really a sad fic, it was more open.
This is getting angry and ranty so I’m hiding it under the cut
But idk I’m just so so so tired of my queen being given the short end of the stick. Again it’s why I hella overcompensate and make him suffer. But it’s v annoying to me that he can do whatever and my queen will still love him? Fuck that bullshit. I’m sick of it. I’m sure it’s cause I’ve never been in romantic love so I don’t get it, but if that’s what it’s like I don’t want to understand. All these stories I hear of women staying in toxic relationships where as the men are always able to leave their shituationship and find better matches, is so difficult for me to wrap my head around. This is just in regards to the people in my real life and from some podcasts I listen to (and social media shit) but I swear the percentage is heavily skewed to women trying to save their shitty relationship while the men are able to break out of it.
Anyways, yeah it’s why I absolutely loathe fics where he’s a scumbag and my queen suffers but ultimately he gets to keep her. First that seems very ooc to me, but I also write him ooc too but just way opposite from that. So I guess whatever. But again I ask why must my queen suffer? Hasn’t she suffered enough? Why are we putting her through all this bullshit and tearing her down and making her believe she can only love this one man? Is this supposed to be romantic? Like what? Like oh wow, guess she’s so fucking lucky he decided to choose her after fucking around and being an absolute dick. Grody.
I swear I’m just too American or at least too much of a Vegas gal to be okay with this. Because I see this shit so much in fics and irl I am fucking terrified of it happening to me. To lose my complete sense of self for an underserving asshole who makes me question love? I would rather die. Like kill me please. Cause if there’s anything I know, it’s love. I’m Lots of Love for crying out loud! All forms of it! It’s not just romantic, but the rest of the world seems to think it’s the only one that matters. And I know I’m guilty of that too, cause I am to my core a hopeless romantic. But when it is pure. Not this brainwashed mess where men can be whores but women aren’t allowed to even look at another person.
Back on my fuck first love being the only love bullshit. I fucking hate this trope when it applies to only women. Not super fond of it with men either, but that’s more of a dig at my main fandom I can’t even enjoy anymore.
Would love to read a fic where she’s the player instead of him and it’s perfectly fine. Make him the one who wonders for fucking once. Does she love him? Maybe. Is she enjoying her life and fucking around? Absolutely and as she should! Not caring that she’s stringing him along cause he’s the back up that she knows she can always go back to, and maybe she does actually love him. Go figure.
Some days I get so angry I just want to write a fuck you fic, but also I don’t cause I hate writing and I have too many other projects I would rather finish so I never have to write again. But then I think about having to read these fics and noping out or sticking it out and being pissed even though I knew where it was going and I would hate it. And I’m like hella judgey but at least I’m not an awful person who leaves rude comments for a fic not meant for me. Yeah if you do that shit you’re a fucking asshole and I want nothing to do with you.
I didn’t intend to start this post off so angry, and now I don’t even remember my main reason for trying to make an update here. I’ve just annoyed myself and I need to leave or else I’ll be too tired for my hopeful boost of serotonin tomorrow (or today rather). I’m probably just irritated from being at the airport like all day. I love traveling but some airports and airlines suck.
Anyways main point, let Shiho bejeweled! Don’t keep her locked up in the basement! She’s a diamond, so let her shine damn it!
5 notes · View notes
2jaeh · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
FREAKS THE PREQUEL : TAEYONG X TEN X READER 
genre: smut, humor
warnings: poly themes, alcohol, some drug use, threesome, oral M and F receiving, semi-public, fxm, mxm, just a lot of smut related tags tbh
word count : 11,8 K 
AUTHOR SIN
Everyone had heard of you but where did the story begin ?
This is the prequel to FREAKS (Jaehyun x reader) a story of why the entire campus were almost certain that you Taeyong and Ten were in a poly affair. 
A/N: before anyone asks I will be doing a part two of Freaks w Jaehyun, I needed to get this part out first! Also commissions are open on my fiverr and let me know in my inbox what you think of this series! 
0. Prequel 
1. Freaks pt 1 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You always wondered what it was like to fit in. Whether people rarely stared, that It didn’t matter what music you listened to or how you dressed as long as you followed the quota you were good. But four months into university made you quickly realise that it wasn’t easy making friends as people made it out to be. Being in the art department, you took notice of a few people that met your requirements but after an exchange or two the conversation fell flat and it would feel like you were back to square one.
You sat your sketchbook down on the wooden table situated at the back of the fine arts classroom and slumped into the chair waiting for class to begin. Your eyes watched every person that sauntered through those indigo doors. Hippies, wannabe tattoo artists, rich kids who took art just to prove they’re cultured, and the ones who weren’t worth remembering.
“Today we will explore life drawings so pull out the items I asked you to collect and partner up with the person seated next to you” your lecturer clapped his hands as the classroom filled with shuffling of seats and small greetings.
You turned to your left and noticed a black haired boy with a mullet cut passed out on the desk. You had seen him at a few parties but you’ve only exchanged less than a sentence with him.
Grabbing your pencil you poked his exposed arm until he groaned and stretched his arms out in front of him yawning, “Are we done already ?”
“We just started, and were partners” you faked a smile and shifted your desk closer to him.
“Oh shit sorry, you’re y/n right ?” He asked, his voice was soft and friendly. His cat-like eyes blinked cutely as he adjusted his loose shirt and turned his body to face you, “you were at Jungwoo’s party last week.”
“Oh yeah I was” you chuckled scratching the back of your head, “You…are Ten Lee, I remember your strip club design project. It was pretty awesome”
Ten’s eyes lit up at your words and you felt a sense of warmth emanating from him. It felt genuine unlike most people on this campus and you couldn’t believe it took you this long to even talk to him.
“I tend to see how far I can go before the faculty calls my parents in” he snickered and began pulling out his drawing equipment from his overly decorated tote bag. You mimicked his actions and in turn pulled out the items your lecturer had asked you to collect. Personal trinkets he said, three items that you think represented you.
You looked around at the nearby desks and noticed a lot of the same items placed on everyone's desk. Candles, AirPods, tea boxes, vinyls and anything else you would find on ‘art hoe Tumblr 101’. You annoyingly rolled your eyes as you looked down at your own equipment.
A rusty old key you had found in your room, the cigarette butt of the last one you smoked since you’d quit, and of course the grand finale, an anime figurine of a woman with boobs bigger than her head. Perfect.
“Hentai is…..your identifier ?” Ten stifled his laughter as he grabbed the figurine from your desk and closely examined her clothing, or lack thereof.
“I actually stole that from the store my ex worked at but yeah we can go with that, what is yours ?”
You watched Ten remove the items from his bag and your eyes widened at one item in particular, “dude is that a vibrator ?” You questioned and Ten grinned, holding up the palm sized gadget and switched it on briefly before turning it off and flinging it on his desk, “yeah I identify strongly with it” he shrugged.
“How exactly?” You quizzed him as the boy, still poker faced, played with the rings on his fingers.
“Vibrators pleasure people, and I do the same, there's no lore to it y/n”
“Good to know I guess” you pressed your lips together and you felt Ten tug on your arm until his lips were against your ear,
“You wanna skip and try it out in the bathroom ?”
———————————————————————————————————
You had no idea what the fuck was going on but within minutes you and Ten were walking down the hall to the nearest bathroom after he explained to the lecturer that the two of you had to hand in a business assignment a couple doors down. Ten pulled you into the girls bathroom and looked under each stall until he realised you two were the only ones in here.
“What the fuck is happening right now” you walked hand in hand with him into the last stall and leaned against the cold tiled wall.
“You about to get one of the best orgasms ever that's what” Ten bit down on his lip cheekily and found the slit of your floral skirt and pushed it to the side, revealing your black laced panties on full display for him.
As Ten’s fingers slowly began making its way to your core you smacked his hand, causing him to look up with wide eyes, “What ?”
“At least kiss me first, how am I supposed to get in the…mood?” Ten chuckled at your words and raised his hands amusingly, “Okay Okay I didn’t think this would be a whole ordeal”
You rolled your eyes and pulled Ten by his neck into a deep kiss that actually surprised the both of you. Each side was filled with lust as your tongue moved against his and fought for dominance. Ten pressed his body against you roughly, earning a moan from both of you once you felt your bodies connect in the most passionate way. Kissing him was different, It completely changed the way you looked and felt about him. He went from being the cute cat boy in your class to probably one of the sexiest people you had ever met. Ten roughly bit your lip and smirked into the kiss when he felt your nails dig into his shoulder. He quickly used the opportunity to slip his hands in-between your legs which you politely parted for him and ran a finger over your core.
“Oh shit” you breathed against his lips as he moved the material out of the way and slipped his finger inside with ease. His finger moved slowly in and out of you while his lips were still attached to yours not missing a second of that mouth-watering kiss. You had no idea when his finger was replaced with the vibrator but the sensation made you break away from the kiss and throw your head back in ecstasy, not knowing when was the last time you even felt like this. The combination of Ten’s wet kisses on your neck and the vibrator completely destroying you, it was happening. The orgasm of the fucking century was approaching. You would like to believe that you were only at your breaking point because you hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a while not because Ten was this good. But he was. He was fucking amazing and this was just a taste, just an introduction to him.
Ten increased the speed of the vibrator until your legs were shaking and clasped his hand over your mouth to prevent the whole department from hearing you coming undone.
“Fuck..” You sighed, holding onto his shoulders for support as you tried catching your breath, “yeah the whole pleasure analogy between you and the vibrator….I get it.”
“Glad to be of service” Ten stuck his tongue in his cheek and began neatening his outfit before hooking arms with you and walking out of the bathroom. You already had no intention of going back to class anytime soon so the two of you ended up wandering the halls of the pristine campus, hoping the day would pass away.
“Y/n” you heard a voice call from behind you, not your favourite voice in the world.
“Fuck” you sighed and turned around, watching the tall black haired man make his way over to you. You watched a cocky smile spread across his face as he came over, his tall frame standing over you and Ten.
“What do you want Jinyoung ?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at him and folded your arms.
The boy bit down on his lip and moved his hair out of his face, “I just came to say hi y/n do you have to be so rude ?” He scoffed and raised his eyebrow at Ten, “got a new boy toy ?”
“What Ten and I do is honestly none of your business” you responded coldly, Ten immediately putting two and two together and stifled a laughter before smiling up at Jinyoung,
“Oh you’re the ex boyfriend ? Is this the one who finishes in 10 seconds ?” Tens words caught you off guard causing you to let out a chuckle and Jinyoung to shift uncomfortably in his spot. He tried his best to stay composed but his red ears told a different story.
“That’s probably someone else, you know she’s been around the block” he licked his lips and folded his arms across his chest.
“Anyway do you want something ? We gotta go back to class” you rolled your eyes and rested your head on Tens shoulder.
“Come out with me tonight, you know I always get guestlist to varsity parties” Jinyoung said and Ten waved his hand in front of his face startling Jinyoung, “I have plans with her, so maybe next time” Ten pulled you down the hall before Jinyoung could get in another word. You couldn’t help but turn back and take in his dumbstruck frame as the two of you furthered away from him and headed back to class.
“We have plans ?” You asked as the two of you slipped back into your seats and Ten propped his legs up on the table and leaned back,
“Yeah there’s a party at that guy Wooyoung's place tonight and we’re going” Ten stretched his arms above his head, “wear something sexy so I’m not standing out.”
————————————————————————-
Of Course listening to Tens words and knowing the kind of closet you were working with it wasn’t that hard to not stand out. You opted for a cute little baby blue mini dress that was tight enough to show off your curves and a pair of holographic combat boots. Your favourite part was always getting to match your eye make up to your outfit. Drawing on an intricate design that accentuated your big round eyes almost made you doll-like.
You retrieved your phone and noticed you received a text from Ten, who had already updated an outfit pic on story. A very low buttoned down black shirt and black shiny pants that had a fucking garter around his leg ?
Yeah he was hot and the both of you knew it.
You grabbed the last of your things and made your way downstairs to Ten who was waiting at the dorm house entrance. Unconsciously biting on your lip you were welcomed by his slender figure posted up against the fence with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked straight out of a movie.
“God finally….holy shit you look hot!” He whistled and pulled you into a tight hug before pulling you into a kiss and grabbed your waist. The kiss was indeed surprising even though earlier that day he was practically fucking your brains out.
His lips were soft and sweet, laced with a hint of the menthol cigarette from earlier. Ten finally pulled away and he gave your ass a cheeky squeeze before handing you his half burnt cigarette,
“Let’s have a wild fucking night then shall we ?”
Taking the cigarette from him you took a drag and blew the smoke up into the air forgetting about your sobriety and watched it disappear in the night sky, “let’s go.”
The night was cold but quite a few people were all over the residence roads, making their way to various parties or down to the bars where the rowdiness had already begun.
“Shit I really should’ve brought something to pre drink” Ten sighed and pulled out his phone.
“Who are you texting ?” You asked, trying to match his quick footsteps as yall began nearing the busy part of the street.
“Yuta, you know that tattoo guy ? He always has a bottle on him” Ten explained as you followed him into a narrow corner and saw a group of people gathered at the steps of the building.   You noticed a few people from your department hanging around but the most noticeable person was in fact Yuta Nakamoto. His long black hair, pierced ears and tatted up body was hard to miss. You got a tattoo from him once and it almost ended with him making out with you on his work desk.
But that was a story both of you agreed to forget.
“Ten and y/n, weird combination but I’m not really surprised, what’s up ?” Yuta grinned and handed Ten the bottle of vodka while pulling you into a quick hug.
“Yeah it’s called matching each other’s energy” Ten winked at you and took a shot of vodka straight out of the bottle before handing it to you. You eyed the clear bottle up and down knowing your kidneys were screaming at you right now but fuck you hated walking into a party without a slight buzz going. You took the bottle and took a shot before wincing at the bitter taste and the fiery sensation that was now running down your throat. “You ready ?” Ten grinned holding out his hand and you placed your hand in his, nodding a thank you to Yuta and his friends before entering the chaotic party.
There were people of all kinds inside. Some from your department, some from God knows where. All you could see were lingering eyes on you and Ten as you stepped inside. Some people made it obvious that they were staring, hoping that maybe you’d strike up a conversation with them. Others just peeked and gossiped amongst their friends as they stared at the outfits that you and Ten adorned.
“What else do you expect from people who sleep around with drug dealers” you and Ten overheard a girl say as the two of you made your way over the kitchen for drinks.
“Drug Dealers ? Geez that’s the first” Ten scoffed and sifted for a cider in the cooler.
“None of that bothers you does it ?” You smiled, intrigued as the cat-eyed boy barely noticed a few people checking him out from behind the counter.
Ten handed you a drink and leaned up against the counter taking a sip of the cold liquid before shrugging,
“Why should I let it bother me ? It’s not like their lives are interesting that I want to fit in with them, I mean their lives revolve around talking shit about me” Ten giggled and took another sip of his drink.
His confidence was extremely attractive and his words resonated with you. It made you wonder if maybe you thought too much about it at times even though you didn’t care to conform to society norms of an average varsity student. Hanging out with Ten for just one day already gave you more life, more energy than anyone prior in your university. Ten wasn’t hesitant to show you that he felt the same way either. To him it was fate that he had sat next to you earlier today because he finally found someone worth keeping his attention.
“There’s something about you y/n I just feel like we get each other” he scratched his head and looked over at you, “it’s so easy just hanging out with you without feeling so fucking drained.”
“I feel the exact same way, like don’t get me wrong I like hanging out with the likes of Yuta and that guy Hendery in our class, but it’s different with you”  You grabbed Tens hand and he squeezed your hand tightly,
“Here’s to tolerating only each other.”
You and Ten toasted and downed the last of the cider before heading to the dance floor filled with people who either despised you or wanted to be you.
As the two of you danced it felt like the room was moving in slow motion, the mixture of the smoke filled room to the loud music and alcohol in your system made you feel euphoric. As you danced the night away, you had no idea when you and Ten had separated on the dance floor but a sudden tug on your arm snapped you out of your daydream to face a harsh reality.
Jinyoung.
“Please leave me alone” you groaned as he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his mouth against your ear,
“Baby I’m sorry when are we going to put all that shit behind us ?” He groaned, slipping his hands to your sides and squeezed gently.
“You cheated on me asshole did you forget ?” You shrugged out of his grip and pushed by the bodies of people trying to make your way to the backyard for fresh air.
The small garden was filled with people having intimate conversations and someone throwing up in a bush at the back. Normal house party shenanigans.
You rolled your eyes when you noticed Jinyoung had followed you out already trying to put his hands on you once again. “Would you stop ? Why don’t you run after the girl you had in your bed when we were together” you spat and headed for a bench.
“You know what, keep resisting, that’s why your ass is sitting here alone” Jinyoung retorted and pushed his way back into the party.
You groaned and sat on the empty seat far away from the party, finally able to hear yourself think and breath in fresh air. You were about to slip back into a calmer state when you felt someone drop in the seat next to you and as your thoughts expected it was Jinyoung, it ended up being a boy you had never seen before.
“Hi, sorry I didn’t mean to startle you” the boy said, his big round eyes sparkled under the night sky. His body was petite like Ten but he was broader in the shoulder department and had the most innocent face you’d ever seen.
“Oh it’s not a problem” you replied, still taking in his striking features. The boy brought a small metal flask to his lips and took a shot before offering the drink to you,
“It’s tequila” he smiled and you mouthed a thank you before shooting back a bit of the drink and handed it back to him.
“I’m y/n….I haven’t seen you around before” you quizzed as the boy set down his flask and ran his fingers through his blonde hair.
“I’m Taeyong, I’m actually new here” he replied and wet his lips with his tongue, “I’ll start in the art and design department on Monday.”
“I’m in that department, well welcome to hell” you grinned and held out your hand. Taeyong grinned and took your hand in his and gave you a firm handshake before scooting closer. As much as you convinced yourself he had the most adorable and innocent face you’d ever seen, there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“I just came here to get drunk and get laid but like everyone’s looking at me weird” Taeyong goofily laughed and you joined in, “can’t help you there, I’ve been in that position for a few months now” Taeyongs eyebrows raised at your words and jumped to his feet, holding out his hand for you to take,
“We both have nothing better to do so let’s get wasted.”
You and Taeyong set up a couple shots and downed everything in one go, not bothering about anyone around you or what they had to say. Taeyong was hilarious, his face was animated as he talked which made you laugh, something about him drew you in like a moth to a flame.
The two of you went from casual talk to dancing together and you didn’t mind the closeness, especially when he danced so fucking well against your body. You had no idea when it happened but Taeyong had spun you to face him while the two of you danced and your bodies were practically merged together as Taeyongs lips inched closer and closer until you felt him practically getting dragged away.
“Yo what the fuck man” Taeyong shouted as Jinyoung had a fist full of Taeyongs shirt and escorted him outside. A few people pushed past you to see the commotion before you processed what the hell had just happened.
Making your way through the curious crowd you watched as Taeyong and Jinyoung squared up in the middle of the garden for everyone to see.
“What the hell are you doing with my girl, man ?” Jinyoung shoved Taeyong who stumbled back, the alcohol not helping his balance in any way. You rushed toward them as Taeyong found his footing and pushed Jinyoung right back, he was definitely way stronger than he looked.
“Jinyoung I’m not your girl you moron” you snapped and tried to stand in front of Taeyong before things got any worse.
Jinyoung scoffed and took a step forward, challenging you but you stood your ground even though your head was spinning from the amount of alcohol in your system.
“You’re defending this nobody ? Y/n you’ve really hit rock bottom now haven’t you ?” Jinyoung said, loud enough for every person to hear. This was one of his traits that you hated most.
Gaslighting.
When Jinyoung knew he had lost you it resulted in insults, manipulation, making you feel like you needed him more than he needed you. But it never worked and it drove him insane.
“Hey it’s not her fault she decided to drop the dead weight in her life” Taeyong shrugged and took a step forward, “don’t worry I’ll make sure she gets satisfied in any way she wants.”
Before you could even respond Jinyoung swung at Taeyong, hitting him right in the jaw before two other men stepped in and held him back. You rushed over to check on Taeyong who instead of showing signs of anger or pain, was laughing.
Laughing with a bruise on the side of his jaw, unphased by what had just happened. Jinyoung muttered curses as the guys dragged him away from the garden and the crowds of people finally dispersed, unsatisfied with the lackluster of the fight.
“Are you okay ?” You sighed helping him up and took him to the side of the house where it was more secluded from the public. You shone your phone light to get a better look at his bruise and Taeyong winced at both the sudden light and the throb from the hit.
“I’m fine I’m fine, it’s really okay” he chuckled and leaned against the wall pulling you with until you were inches away from his face.
You had no idea why, especially considering you just saw him get hit in the face, you leaned in to kiss him. Whether it be the alcohol or the adrenaline from the fight you just found Taeyong to be so goddamn hot in this moment. Taeyong moaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue into your mouth and massaged circles on your lower back. Your lips moved against his slowly and passionately, smirking into the kiss when he bit down on your lip cheekily.
“God there you are”
Your kiss quickly broke when you heard the high tone of Tens voice and he made his way over to you and Taeyong.
“What the hell happened, I heard that idiot Jinyoung was harassing you again and-“ Tens eyes turned to Taeyong against the wall and pointed to him with his index finger, “who the heck is this ?”
“Uh this is Taeyong, he helped me with the Jinyoung issue” you scratched your head and Taeyong half waved at Ten before clutching his jaw.
“Uhm okay” Ten pressed his lips together, “let’s go back to my dorm I’ve had enough of these Neanderthals...Taeyong you can come too.”
————————————————————————-
The three of you finally arrived at Ten’s dorm in silence. You and Taeyong shifted awkwardly in the middle of Ten’s bedroom, not knowing exactly what to do. Looking around you noticed Ten had an eye for interior design. His furniture was quite outlandish for a dorm room yet it was surprisingly homey.
“God please sit or do something you guys are making me uncomfortable” Ten groaned, kicking off his boots and discarding his shirt. Taeyong opted for the office chair near Ten’s desk and you took a seat at the very edge of Ten’s single sleeper while he lay on his back next to you on his phone.
“You guys like sushi ? I'm feeling for sushi” Ten hummed scrolling through a food ordering app completely oblivious to the awkwardness that still sat in the room.
“Sushis good” you nodded,
“Yeah I don't mind either” Taeyong added but winced when he felt the sharp, still very prominent pain in his jaw.
“Ten you got an ice pack or something ?” You sighed, jumping off the bed and rummaged through Ten’s mini fridge. “Yeah right at the back” Ten replied, still trying to place his order for the late night meal. You retrieved the ice pack and knelt down in front of Taeyong who smiled shyly as you placed the ice pack over his swollen jaw. Taeyong silently thanked you for your kindness and applied pressure to his jaw as you decided to take a seat beside his chair, to make him feel a little more comfortable in your friends bedroom.
“Okay” Ten threw his phone aside and sat up to look at the two of you with inquisitive eyes,” yall gonna tell me what happened here ?”
“Well I lost you on the dancefloor and Jinyoung found me” you began, Ten already rolling his eyes at the sound of Jinyoung’s name,
“I went outside and Taeyong approached me, he’s going to be starting at our department on Monday and he didn't know anybody, so I offered my friendship in a form of alcohol and having a good time” you smiled and Ten scoffed.
“Jinyoung saw you guys just drinking and decided to rearrange his face ?” Ten raised his eyebrow, he definitely knew there was more to it considering the two of you were sucking each other's faces off in a dark alley.
“Okay so we were quite close, and honestly does Jinyoung need any other reason ? He wanted to punch you this morning” you groaned.
“Yeah but I was literally fucking you in a bathroom stall with my vibrator y/n”
Taeyong’s eyes widened at Ten’s words and looked between the two of you frantically, “Wait you guys are together, I mean hooking up ? Why did you kiss me ?” he questioned while Ten just laughed it off and turned on his bluetooth speaker.
“Chill, we're not together you can have a little relationship if you want to” Ten smirked, stretching his arms above his head, “honestly if you wanna hook up now I like watching.”
“God shut up, and none of us want a relationship. We just got there to have fun and Jinyoung ruined everything” you groaned, leaning your head back against Taeyong’s leg as he finally returned to tend to his bruise.
“All this aside do you guys mind if I hang out with you ? you’re honestly the only fucking normal people on this campus” Taeyong pouted and you and Ten shared a quick glance before grinning from ear to ear.
“Okay he’s cute I get it” Ten sighed and held out his hand to Taeyong, “I'm Ten, y/n and I only started hanging out this morning, neither of us have close friends on campus and frankly everyone finds us annoying, welcome to the club.”
Taeyong smiled cutely and shook Ten’s hand, setting down his ice pack and got to his feet, “Well i'm Taeyong, I too don't give a shit what people have to say about me, I like doing whatever I want with whomever I want and I'm pretty sure after tonight people aren't gonna like me either, so I guess i'm in.”
Before you could even say your part to this little club initiation your phone began to blow up with message alerts and story updates from practically everyone on campus tagging you in a specific video.
“What the hell is going on ?” you frowned as you opened instagram and noticed that the account that everyone was tagging you in was a burner account with a few videos and two pictures. Ten and Taeyong stood on either side of you as you opened up the first video and noticed that it was taken in the hallway earlier that day with you and Ten linking arms. The second video was at the party, you and Ten dancing with each other and the video cutting to you and Taeyong dancing together. The last video on the account was a blurry video of you and Taeyong making out and Ten walking in, with the ending obviously being the three of you leaving together.
“Why is this account posting videos of us ?” Taeyong asked, noticing that he too was tagged by people who he didn't know at all. Ten pulled up the account on his own phone when the account refreshed and a new post appeared, this time it was text only.
“It's probably Jinyoung I’ll just call him and-”  You were cut off by Ten grabbing your phone and tossing it on his bed, “dude what the hell ?” you protested but Ten silenced you with his finger.
“This is garbage right ? like what do our lives and how we live it got anything to do with any of these assholes ?” Ten bit down on his lip and looked between you and Taeyong, “They are so obsessed with us, wondering if the three of us are fucking right now ? really ? well let's give it to them.”
“You want the three of us to fuck ?” Taeyong quirked his eyebrow, his large eyes still hazy from the party.
“I want them to believe we are!” Ten grabbed Taeyong by his shoulders and looked back at you, “any publicity is good publicity. We get to be ourselves and we get to piss people off for free.”
“Would be pretty funny to see all of this blow up in Jinyoung's face honestly” you agreed, and Ten’s face lit up before moving his attention back to Taeyong, “What do you say pretty boy ?” Taeyong scratched his head and shrugged, “All this pretending and I don't get any action here ? doesn't feel like a win at all” You tried to hold in your laughter as Ten groaned at the blonde boy’s words and held his face between his hands before pulling him into a kiss, you watched Taeyong’s tense shoulders finally drop as he leaned more into the kiss and wrapped his hands lightly around Ten’s waist.
Ten pulled away and swiped Taeyong’s lips with his thumb, smiling at the doe-eyed boy, “we will have to make it convincing right ?”
“Okay im in” Taeyong smiled brightly and the three of you held hands in the middle of the bedroom, sharing mischievous glances with each other, anticipating the fucking whirlwind of chaos that was about to hit the campus.
“Good, well I guess the only thing left to do is upload our first post of the official poly club” Ten smirked and pulled the both of you onto his bed. Ten sat in between you and Taeyong and turned on the video mode of instagram stories. First he showed his face then turned to you, pulling you into a soft sensual kiss before moving to Taeyong next to him and did the same. After breaking the kiss with Taeyong, Ten nudged you to move over to the other side of him, putting you right onto Taeyongs lap. Ten focused on the two of you as you lifted Taeyong’s chin with your index finger and bit down on his lip, slightly pulling, teasing him as he brought his hand up to wrap around your neck. Ten zoomed in as you and Taeyong shared a very scandalous kiss for everyone to see. Your tongues darting in each other's mouth while the music drowned out your subtle moans.
“Done!” Ten chirped and uploaded his story, making sure to tag the burner account in every single clip. There was no going back now and every moment of this escapade excited you. The comfort you felt around Ten and Taeyong was something that you’d been craving for a long time. As cheesy as it was to say, and especially since it was only Day One, they felt like your soulmates.
“Man I fucking love this campus” Taeyong threw his head back and groaned while you and Ten burst out laughing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday quickly approached and as soon as you and Ten stepped on campus all eyes were on you. It gave you an incredible sense of confidence and you had no idea why. Heads turned with every step, everyone was whispering as the two of you walked hand in hand through the hallway keeping your head up high and not giving a shit about anyone. Taeyong was waiting for you guys at the end of the hall, adorning a buttoned down printed shirt and ripped jeans that snatched his waist in the right way. Taeyong was leaning against the wall with a lollipop in his mouth and dark sunglasses while everyone who passed him did a double take.
“Hey babes” he smirked and placed a kiss on your cheek and Tens before joining your walk towards your first class for the day.
It was so surreal going from everyone ignoring your existence to every single person watching the three of you, anticipating what was going to happen next. You found your seats in the middle of the lecture, giving everyone the best possible view of course. The professor cleared his throat to get everyone's attention and Ten tried to stifle a laughter as the people who stated they didn't give a shit about you guys clearly paid a lot of attention now.
“Give them a show bestie” Ten whispered in your ear before gesturing to Taeyong who sat on the other side of you, slumped down in his seat with his legs spread apart deliciously. You nodded and slowly reached over to Taeyong, caressing his thigh and he bit down on his lip while keeping his eyes on the lecture slides in front of him. You noticed two guys shuffling behind you and one pulled out his phone, waiting to record the next escapade of the campus’s new favourite stars.
You danced your fingers up Taeyong’s thigh and inched closer to rest your hand on his crotch as his breathing hitched. Leaning forward you made your movements less suspicious to the professor and everyone around you except the camera that was now focusing on your actions. Taeyong sunk further in the chair awaiting for you to quit teasing him and touch him where he needed you most. You obliged to his needs and palmed him through his jeans and you heard the guy behind you curse under his breath as you began rubbing Taeyong’s member. It felt so fucking powerful to do whatever you wanted after being so cautious on this campus for so long. The ironic part was all that shit about you being notorious on campus was a fucking lie. No you weren't a saint but you were not sleeping around every other day since you hated about 90% of the people that attended the university. Now with that burner account claiming to know more about your sex life than you did, what was holding you back now from doing what you wanted ?
Taeyong undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zip enough for you to slip your hands inside his pants with ease. A gasp from Ten made a shiver run down your spine, coming to your senses that you were giving Taeyong a handjob in the middle of a 10am lecture.
“Shit he's walking up” you chuckled and pulled your hand out of Taeyong’s pants and quickly pretended to be involved in your studies as the professor began walking around the room. Taeyong groaned loud enough for most of the front row to turn around and look at him in annoyance.
“Is something wrong Mr Lee ?” The professor raised his eyebrow as Taeyong quickly redid his pants and hid his prominent boner from his professor.
“One of the questions is a little….hard” Taeyong groaned while you and Ten covered your mouths trying to hide your laughter.
The professor shook his head and went on his way as you and Ten watched Taeyong struggle with his boner for the next thirty minutes of the class. Finally the lecture wrapped up and as soon as the three of you made your way to the hallway you felt Taeyong tug on your arm and began leading you into the girls bathroom, into the nearest stall. A few girls in the bathroom frowned at Ten sauntering into the bathroom straight after, setting down his bag on the counter and began fiddling with his hair.
“Uh this is the girls bathroom ?” a girl snapped, folding her arms and made eye contact with Ten through the mirror.
“So what ? I saw a vag before love, and just because i'm a guy doesn't mean I want yours” Ten shrugged and the girl cursed and stormed out of the bathroom. Meanwhile your mouth was practically merged with Taeyong’s as he pressed his still very hard member against your stomach and nibbled on your bottom lip.
“Was giving me blue balls for thirty minutes worth all of that ?” Taeyong growled as he grabbed your ass roughly, causing you to moan in his mouth. “I'm sorry baby let me make it up to you” you purred and dropped to your knees while Taeyong braced himself against the ceramic wall for what’s to come.
You undid Taeyongs jeans and pulled it down along with his boxers, allowing his member to spring free still hard as ever. You looked up at him, eyes big as you began stroking him slowly before spitting on his tip in order to lubricate him.
“Fucking hell” Taeyong yelled.
A girl on the outside jumped at his words and looked back at the stall then looked at Ten, who was just waiting on the two of you.
“Exam season huh ?” Ten pressed his lips together as the awkward girl quickly dried her hands and rushed out of the bathroom as soon as possible.
You began bobbing your head on Taeyongs member, fully taking him until he reached the back of your throat causing you to gag. Taeyong marveled at the way your plump lips wrapped around his tip, he couldn't help but grab your hair and slowly pull you off him just to take in the sight of your messed up lipstick. You gave him a cheeky smirk before locking your hands behind your back and giving him full control of his movements. Taeyong took full control, his dark eyes narrowed and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before thrusting inside of you at a rapid pace. You felt your throat burn at the way he fucked your mouth rapidly but it turned you on so much that you waited until he finally came inside your mouth and you swallowed every bit of him. Taeyong pulled you to your feet and kissed you passionately, his tongue tasting remnants of himself.
“Thanks baby” Taeyong cooed in your ear before exiting the stall, stuffing himself back into his pants while a few girls looked at him absolutely horrified. You followed him, neatening your hair and washing off your mouth and borrowed a lip balm from Ten.
“Had fun you two ?” Ten smirked, leaning against the sink as you and Taeyong made yourself a little more presentable before making your way out of the bathroom. Upon exiting the three of you  noticed the two guys who were filming in the lecture room quickly run after you.
“Don't we get the ending to what went down in the lecture room ?” the one boy snickered like an immature school child as his friend kept the camera on the three of you making your way out of the art department block,
“She swallowed, the end” Taeyong threw his arms around both you and Ten leaving both boys dumbstruck at his words.
You playfully nudged Taeyong who just shot you a cheeky smile as you made your way to a little bench under a willow tree. This was where you usually sat on your own, when you didn't have the energy to socialize with the rest of the art students. Now, it felt a little more complete with Ten and Taeyong accompanying you.
“So my lovelies there's this afterparty happening after the final football game of the season next month” Ten said twirling his ice coffee in his hand as he took in the afternoon sun.
“What do you have in mind ?” you crinkled your nose as you sifted through your unappetizing salad in a box.  
“Okay so you guys heard of Onlyfans right ?” Ten looked between you and Taeyong.
“That site that pays for nudes and shit ?” Taeyong quizzed and Ten nodded brightly and leaned in, “I was thinking let's capitalize a bit of this leading up to the party” Ten responded and pulled up an invitation on his phone,
“The afterparty is being held at Jinyoung’s frat house, him and his idiotic friends are making people pay in order to decorate their football recreational room or some stupid shit like that.”
You took a closer look at the invite and rolled your eyes at the ridiculous pricing, as if their parties were worth going to anyway. Jinyoung was incredibly full of himself and he knew a lot of people worshipped him on campus thanks to his parents being higher ups and the poster boy for the football team. Going for his pride, knocking him where it hurts would be fucking bliss.
“We open an onlyfans, nothing too scandalous but it's gonna get people interested enough to pay forward and we use that cash to host our own party on the same night, free entrance of course” Ten continued and already started setting up the OnlyFans account.
“We should make the party crazy as hell too so nobody would resist coming over” Taeyong added and began going through his contacts, “there's this guy called Seungyoun, he’s a fourth year and knows that DJ from that enigma club from downtown.”
“That's perfect, and we will get Yuta and his tattooist buddies to do temporary sets for us, also my friend Chaeyoung in fashion can help with decor” Ten squealed, already messaging whoever he can.
“My friend Hendery has...uh happy pills if you're interested” you mentioned, knowing that everyone knew Hendery on campus for selling shit, not strong stuff but able to keep you going for a good amount of time.
“Yes! Anything to create hype and watch those preppy idiots sit in an empty house come game night” Ten replied and showed off the OnlyFans page he attached to his instagram account.
“Okay, so what now ?” Taeyong’s large eyes looked between the two of you.
“Now” Ten threw his phone in his bag and got to his feet, “we go back to my dorm and take some naughty pics.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I don't think my ass looks good in that” you whined as you got off Taeyong’s lap and took a look at Ten’s camera viewfinder. Taeyong grumbled, sitting in nothing but leather pants on Ten’s office chair, “your ass looks great trust me” he smirked and reached to pull you back onto his lap.
“Come on, just a few more then you can take pics of Taeyong and I” Ten pointed his ring light where Taeyong had a grip on your ass that adorned very pretty pink lingerie. After a few more angles and more compromising positions, Ten finally got what he needed and handed you the camera,
“Make us look cute” He winked and pulled Taeyong to his feet.
“What are we gonna-” Taeyong’s words were cut off by Ten shoving his hand down his pants, “okaaaay” Taeyong pressed his lips together as you began snapping pics of the two of them.
They were so beautiful to you. Every picture you snapped looked better than the last and they needed no direction at all, just enveloped each other with their ridiculous sexual energy, filling the room with their pheromones.
“Done, you guys look sexy as fuck” you purred earning a kiss from Taeyong who was obviously horny from the entire ordeal, but when the fuck was his dick not hard.
You felt yourself being tugged away and Taeyong whined when Ten handed the camera to him and pushed you down to lie on his bed. You felt a shiver run down your spine when Ten positioned himself between your legs and moved his body down until his face was level with your core.
“Taeyong, stand above y/n and shoot down from this angle” Ten instructed to which Taeyong obeyed and his shadow casted over you.
Ten leaned in and kissed you softly on your mound as the room echoed with the camera shutters and your deep breaths. You desperately wanted to run your fingers through his hair but you’d only ruin a perfect shot. It was agonizing but you had to stay still while Ten had his way with you.
Ten moved the piece of fabric to the side and peppered kisses all along your inner thigh and around your core. You were unable to see his face thanks to Taeyong hovering over you but you pictured that smug smile spread across his face as you restrained yourself. You sucked in another deep breath when you felt his tongue dart out and take a slow lick before placing his mouth on your mound and ate you out like an expert.
“Fucking hell” you sighed as you felt his tongue inside you, exploring every part imaginable. You could tell the scene was getting to Taeyong too, as he stood there one hand on the camera and the other hand on his hardened member, watching Ten eat you out.
“Did you get the shots ?” Ten suddenly said, pulling away from your core as you squirmed out of protest.
“Uh..yeah I did,” Taeyong muttered, still staring down at your legs spread wide apart and his member practically screaming through his restricted pants.
“I hope you're not planning to wrap this shit up right now Ten” you groaned, reaching your hand down to your core in order to finish what he had left off.
Ten snickered and slapped your hand away, “of course my lovelies, I never quit a job halfway.” Ten gestured for Taeyong to stand next to the bed while he inserted a finger in you, causing you to moan his name out loud. As you got accustomed to his finger you managed to sit up a little and watched as Ten rubbed Taeyong’s boner through his pants. God you had never been in a situation like this before. How the hell did you get so lucky, meeting two men willing to fuck you and each other.
Ten entered another finger inside you as Taeyong undid his pants and Ten’s mouth was pressed against Taeyong’s member while pumping his length. Taeyong’s eyes were on your figure as he moaned when Ten took him fully in and his fingers were now destroying your core.
“God im so close” Taeyong whined and Ten slowly took his length out of his mouth and looked up at him and then down at you,
“I think you should cum on y/n, she wants it” Ten licked his lips and looked at you with hooded eyes.
“Y-yeah Taeyong….just do it” you squirmed as Ten’s fingers slowed down, holding you back from your orgasm.
Taeyong uttered a few curses and Ten quickly returned to pumping his member until he was at his breaking point. Ten removed his hand from Taeyong and gave you his full attention, attaching both his mouth and three of his fingers inside of your core. Taeyong stood over you with dark eyes as you reached out to run your hand down his exposed thigh.
Taeyong grunted as he released, you felt the warm liquid all over your stomach and breasts while Ten was still recklessly fingering you until you had one of the craziest orgasms of your life. You couldn't process when Taeyong had pressed his lips to yours and Ten had left to get tissues for the mess the three of you made.
“That was some content our viewers missed out on” Taeyong sighed, still trying to catch his breath. You chuckled and went over to the bathroom to quickly shower off the mess and returned in Ten’s oversized shirt, taking a seat between the two of them in bed.
“Okay I uploaded a few previews and linked the onlyfans subscription link” Ten announced as he uploaded three of the explicit versions on the paid side of Onlyfans, “we will get a notification when someone has subscribed and our earnings are on this page.”
The three of you sat, mouths dropped open as you watched subscription after subscription start to fill the page. The comments were flooding in too, and someone even left a hefty tip in a matter of minutes. Ten switched to the earnings page and the account was already sitting at a triple digit.
“What the actual fuck” you gasped as more people began visiting the page and your followings on instagram began skyrocketing.
“This was way easier than I thought it was” Taeyong marveled, also noticing many people start dming him on instagram.
“Well Jinyoung and his goons wanted a party, well here’s the party of the fucking century” Ten smirked and hi5ed the both of you as absolute chaos ensued all over social media in real time.
Just like that in the next couple of days the three of you were watched by the entire campus. It was like Jinyoung wanted. To show the campus that you were notorious, and nobody should get involved with any of you. But that's where his plan was flawed.
Every single person on the campus besides his legion of preppy followers were obsessed with the three of you and craved more. Despite the onlyfans pictures containing no nudity, people still subscribed, they still tipped, they would do anything to see more.
It was in the middle of the afternoon and Ten had confirmed the account had garnered enough money for the party. It had been about three weeks since the very first post on the onlyfans account and now the account stood at a staggering 850 subscribers, each paying for the monthly subscribed content plus tipping generously from time to time. In the midst of all of this the three of you were also preparing for the party that was going to be held on the big day. Taeil, a friend of Taeyong's, allowed you to use his frat house for the event since it would look good for student rentals later on. Yuta and his friends prepared alcohol and a temporary tattoo station to appease drunk girls to get matching tattoos and frat boys to bet their friends to tattoo a dick on their faces. Chaeyoung, Ten’s friend from fashion completely transformed the house into an instagrammable masterpiece, channeling one of those fancy hollywood parties that nobody could ever get into. Seungyoun, the fourth year who was friends with a lot of musicians and DJs from downtown spread the word on campus radio, letting everyone know about Ten’s huge announcement that was about to happen Tuesday afternoon, 2:30PM.
“Alright you thirsty hoes, I see you all made it” Ten said into a karaoke microphone he found from God knows where. Ten got up on the table in the courtyard, standing in front of a huge crowd of students who quickly gathered ready for the grand announcement that was the talk of the town for the last week now.
“We would just like to say that we're so grateful for all your support on our….craft and in order to honor that, were going to host the best party of the fucking semester” Ten shouted while people cheered from the front all the way to the back of the crowd.
“If you look at the link under Ten’s instagram bio, it should take you to a little preview of what’s in store come saturday” Taeyong explained, leaning into the mic while the crowd murmured in confusion.
“Saturday after the big game ? Isn't Jinyoung having a party that night ?” someone in the crowd said followed by more confused chatter.
“That's right, I am having a party after the game” Jinyoung said, moving through the crowd accompanied by two of his frat members and sneered at the sight of the three of you,
“What ? Are you guys planning an orgy or something for your onlyfans ?”
“If you want to suck my dick all you gotta do is ask Jinyoung” Taeyong mused and a few people giggled while Jinyoung shifted uncomfortably and gritted his teeth.
“Listen, you freaks are not having a party on the same night as me” Jinyoung spat and took a step forward, “save yourself the embarrassment of nobody showing up and cancel it.”
You approached him slowly, chuckling darkly as he watched your fingers dance up his arm and up to his jaw, caressing his cheek, “Sweety are you threatened ? You're afraid everybody is gonna ditch your little frat party and come to mine ?”
Jinyoung tried keeping his cool while you stared up at him, playing with him like a little toy in front of everyone to see.
“Are you afraid if people come over i'm going to hook up with everyone who gives me attention ?” Jinyoung avoided your eyes when you recited the words he wrote about you on that burner account. You smirked up at him when you noticed how he still wasn't man enough to own up to his actions.
“Well, our party is FREE by the way” you continued, stepping away and now addressed the crowd in front of you, “So if you’d rather go over to Jinyoungs then go ahead, but if you wanna come play with us…”
You walked up to Taeyong and gave him a sloppy kiss as he grabbed your ass in front of the entire campus to see, “we will see you Saturday night.” The crowd cheered and Jinyoung growled, taking one more glare at you before storming off with his frat boys away from the cheering crowds.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was D day and everyone who helped with the party gathered in the kitchen, drink in hand and took a final glance back at the rager that was mere minutes away from opening up.
“I can't thank you all enough, actually I did, with all that onlyfans money” Ten stuck his tongue out and Seungyoun whistled while everyone clapped.
“No but seriously, thank you guys….revenge never felt sweeter” you smiled and Hendery put his arm around you as you leaned into him, “if nobody shows up well more for us!”
“Cheers, freaks¨" Taeyong yelled and Ten nudging him in his abdomen,
“Really ? I'm pretty sure Jinyoung’s little nickname for us isn't a compliment” Ten rolled his eyes playfully.
“Its a compliment to us, fuck it im a freak and proud of it” Yuta raised his glass, and a few others joined in.
“Fine Freaks club it is, cheers everyone!” Ten raised his glass and everyone clinked glasses before downing their respectful drinks.
It wasn't long before people began pouring in, it wasn't a large number but it was still something. Most people were from the music and arts departments, and you noticed a few girls from your business lecture drop by as well.
“You think the rest all went to Jinyoung ?” You bit down on your lip as you and Ten monitored the crowds of people while having a drink.
“Maybe ? doesn't matter though, our party is way cooler” Ten shrugged and threw back his drink, “but if you really want me to pull one last move hey just say the word.”
You looked over at the black haired boy and frowned while a cheeky smile spread across his face and he pulled out his phone. You watched him text a few paragraphs and slip his phone in his back pocket before returning to his drink.
About 20 minutes later Taeyong emerged from the crowd to join the two of you in the kitchen, a confused look spread across his face.
“What's wrong ?” you quizzed him.
“Some of those basketball guys are here, they brought over like fifty more people” Taeyong pointed to the entrance and you and Ten watched the guys who the campus worshipped next to the football team enter the party, followed by their fangirls and whoever else wished to be in their presence.
“What the heck did you do ?” your eyes widened as the small party now turned into a whole fucking campus rager.
“Oh I told Johnny Suh that I'd give him a lap dance in front of everyone if he came over with his friends” Ten smiled, waving at the tall brown haired boy with a goofy grin spread across his face.
“Johnny Suh ?! as in the captain of the varsity basketball team ?” you were still confused as to how and when Ten had started talking to one of the most popular guys on campus.
“Yes him, now if you would excuse me, I have a deal to seal” you and Taeyong watched Ten down his drink and make his way over to the lounge where Johnny stood excitedly.
Ten spoke to the DJ and the DJ had the crowd clear up the center of the room while everyone exchanged confused glances as to what the hell was about to go down. Ten placed a chair in the middle of the room and pushed Johnny’s large frame down until he was seated, legs apart and that goofy smile never leaving his face. His teammates whistled as Ten used a piece of cloth to cover Johnny’s eyes, and took off his belt in order to retrain his hands behind his back.
“I gotta give it to Ten, he sure knows how to put on a show” Taeyong wrapped his arm around your waist as the two of you watched Ten fuck around with the captain of the basketball team.
The room was filled with flashing lights, everyone recording the moment as Ten gave Johnny the lap dance he was promised. Johnny slumped in the chair allowing Ten to grind into his hips, and you're pretty sure if the music wasn't so goddamn loud the whole campus would've heard Johnny moan in Ten’s touch. Ten ended it off with a cheeky kiss and untied Johnny, whose face was absolutely red as all of his friends cheered them on, all of them attacking him with hi5s.
That definitely sealed the deal, because after a few uploads of the clip, almost everyone was at your party and Jinyoung’s was most likely empty right now. The party was so big that people were on the street, everybody having the time of their life.
“We did it” Ten threw his arms around you and Taeyong as you stood on the balcony, overlooking the party from above.
“Yeah, we really did” you chuckled and sighed deeply, “I wish I could look at Jinyoung’s face right now.”
“Oh you didn't see ?”
You and Ten turned to Taeyong as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his gallery. You and Ten burst out laughing when a video of Jinyoung sitting in his empty estate with a few of his preppy friends looking absolutely miserable.
“Fuck thats brilliant” you leaned your head on Ten’s shoulder, completely satisfied with how the night turned out.
“Hey you guys wanna go back to my dorm ? I'm kinda over this” Ten yawned and placed a peck on your forehead.
“You wanna leave your own party ?” Taeyong scoffed, shoving his hands in his pocket.
“This” Ten gestured to the three of you, “This is my party, let's take it back to my room.”
You and Taeyong both obliged and without anyone knowing the three of you escaped the party and made your way over to Ten’s dorm room hand in hand. Upon entering Ten threw off his shirt and kicked off his boots and Taeyong did the same, the two boys grabbing alcohol from the mini fridge and set them up on Tens desk.
“Oh by the way I have something” your words had both the boys turn to face you and you held out your hand, holding three small blue pills,
“Hendery gave them to me, Its not that strong and the high will only last for an hour or two but fuck its good way to end the night off right ?”
“I'm in” Taeyong grabbed the pill and handed you a drink, the three of you washed the pill with beer and Ten switched on a playlist before joining you and Taeyong on his bed.
“I know we've only known each other for like 2-3 months now but I fucking love you guys” you sighed, running your hands through your hair and looked between the two boys.
“This group, us, was the best thing that ever happened to me” Taeyong replied, “you two whores mean the world to me.” “Very sentimental Taeyong” Ten chuckled before reaching out to caress your cheek, “I love you too babe, both of you, were soulmates, if like the devil decided to link people together or something.”
The three of you chuckled and the laughter quickly switched to Taeyong rubbing Ten’s thigh and looked over at you with dark eyes. You had no idea if it was the drug, or the alcohol but there was a desperation within you. Grabbing Taeyong’s face, you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, and quickly switched to Ten, giving him the same energy as Taeyong pushed your shirt over your head and sucked on your exposed skin.
Ten unclasped your bra and massaged your breast as Taeyong kissed the other, each boy stimulating you in the best way possible. Taeyong growled and tossed you onto your back, pulling your skirt off and began sharing a passionate kiss with Ten who was already down to his boxers.
Once Taeyong pulled away from Ten he moved on top of you, grabbing you by your throat and rubbed his hips against your core, the friction sending you into a frenzy. Your thoughts were so focused on Taeyong you had no idea when Ten had got on his knees beside you and began kneading your breasts and rubbing his length with his free hand.
“Who do you wanna fuck first ?” Taeyong growled in your ear that made you so wet you had no fucking clue who you wanted, you just needed someone inside of you at this moment.
“I think it's fair if I go first, I've waited long enough” Ten smirked and switched positions with Taeyong who jumped off the bed to get rid of his pants.
You watched Ten’s dark eyes take in your body, and his beautiful body looked so fucking alluring under the dim lighting of his bedroom. Ten rid you of your soaked panties and wasted no time in inserting two fingers in your wetness.
“Baby girl has been waiting for this for a while huh” Ten purred while Taeyong grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a kiss before making you sit up enough for his member to meet your lips. Just as you took Taeyong in your mouth Ten had already replaced his fingers with his member and began thrusting into you at a rapid pace.
“Oh fuck” you groaned as Taeyong guided your movements on his member with a fistful of your hair. All three of you were so in tune with each other, rough when needed to be and delicate straight after.
As Ten fucked you he leaned forward enough for Taeyong to bend down and meet his lips, the two of them sharing a dirty kiss while they fucked you senseless. Ten pulled away from Taeyong and rammed into you until you came all over his member. “Come on open wide” He mewled and pulled you up and shoved his length in your mouth until he came, making you swallow every bit of him.
“Get on top of me” Taeyong demanded and you did as he said, climbing on top of him and sitting on his length. Taeyong let out a groan, finally feeling you around his length and you felt Ten sit behind you, his hands cupping your breasts as you bounced on Taeyongs member.
“You think you can take both of us ?” Ten whispered in your ear and his request somehow made you wetter than you already were. You had only tried it once, but never in a situation like this. You quickly nodded and Ten caressed your body, leaving sweet kisses all over shoulder and neck before jumping off the bed to rummage in his closet.
Taeyong, not knowing or caring what was going on, carried on slamming himself inside of you, his nails digging into your ass as you rode him like a pro.
Ten returned with what you assumed to be a bottle of lube and bent you over slightly, making sure his touches were careful and delicate. Taeyong finally caught on and slowed his pace despite almost being at his orgasm, in order to make the process easier for you.
“If it's too much just let me know” Ten pecked your cheek and inserted a finger inside your ass, the new sensation was odd but extremely satisfying. Ten continued lubing you up while Taeyong stroked your thighs and made sure your body was relaxed in their care.
“I'm ready, just do it, I want to feel both of you already” you whined and both boys cursed at your words, each anticipating this new experience.
Ten inserted himself and gave you a moment to adjust to him and Taeyong, before slowly moving his hips, keeping his touches light.
“Oh God that feels so good” you moaned as Taeyong picked up his pace and the both of them began fucking you at the same time, something you always wished would happen eventually. Ten returned to his roughness and bent you a little more, allowing Taeyong to lean up and capture your lips, his tongue entangling with yours as the new position only got him back to chasing his raging orgasm.
“Fuck im gonna cum” Taeyong groaned, slightly mad that he couldnt hold onto this feeling any longer.
“You wanna cum inside her mouth ?” Ten asked in between his grunts as he felt himself also reaching his second orgasm.
“No I wanna cum in yours” Taeyong replied darkly, and Ten’s thrusts stopped abruptly to look down at Taeyong.
“Well...fuck okay” Ten finally said and pulled out of you, allowing Taeyong to move to the side of the bed while Ten flipped you on your back and inserted himself in your core. Taeyong stood on the bed for Ten to get better access to his length as you screamed Ten’s name who was quite literally destroying your core at this point.
Taeyong yanked on Ten’s hair causing him to slow his thrusts and you watched the delicious sight of Taeyong slipping his length into Ten’s mouth and Ten swallowing every bit of him. It was quite possibly the hottest thing you'd seen in your life. Ten wiped his mouth as Taeyong slowly pulled out of him with a groan he returned to slamming his hips into yours. “I'm so close Ten” you groaned as Ten crouched over you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he brought both of you to your climax and let out a huge sigh when he finally came undone with you following shortly after.
“How much money do you think we would've made on onlyfans for that ?” Ten breathed as he collapsed in the bed next to you and Taeyong crawled on your naked body, resting his head on your chest as the three of you tried to catch your breath.
“Probably enough to drop out” Taeyong hummed, his eyes drooping as he made himself a little more comfortable.
“Yeah but hey it's time to end the notorious onlyfans account now don't you think ?” your eyes shifted to Ten who nodded at your words and got up and grabbed his phone from his desk,
“Tae-Ten-Y/N onlyfans era has now come to an end, thank you everyone who tuned in” Ten said, falling back into bed and showing the account that was now deactivated.
“Kinda surprised you are willing to end the onlyfans era Ten, this doesn't have anything to do with Johnny Suh now does it ?” Taeyong raised his eyebrow and you also joined in, looking at the black haired boy with curious eyes.
“Maybe,” Ten sighed, rolling his eyes as you and Taeyong mimicked kissing sounds, “Ugh anyway, they have a game next week, I want you guys to come with.”
“Fine, i’ll ask Johnny how it felt to taste my c-”
“Shut up Taeyong.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ONE WEEK LATER
“I have no idea what the hell is going on but Johnny is so hot” Ten sighed as the three of you sat in the bleachers of a varsity basketball game.
“Athletes are not my type these days” you shrugged taking a bite of your corn dog, watching Taeyong play some game on his phone.
“Oh shit they're almost there” Ten pulled you to your feet as the crowd all stood up around you cheering on the varsity team as the time began running out. You watched Johnny run across the court and throw the ball to a boy with chestnut coloured hair, and upon receiving the ball, the boy threw the ball straight into the hoop at the last second, taking his team to victory.
“Fuck….who is he ?” you gulped, as his teammates carried him on their shoulders and his lips curled into a tight grin, showing off a beautiful set of dimples.   “That my dear friend” Ten patted your shoulder, “That's Jung Jaehyun.”
598 notes · View notes
theasstour · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟔.𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
A/N: As you’re all aware, the Philippines was hit by a category 5-equivalent super typhoon two weeks ago. The typhoon is the world’s strongest storm this year and has brought with it unimaginable destruction. Here’s a link to #RescuePH where you can read more about what’s happening in the Philippines right now. There are also donation links there! If you don’t have the means to donate – which is very understandable - here’s a link to a video to watch on YouTube where all ad revenue goes to those affected by the typhoon! I have learned so much about Filipino culture these last few months writing ST as well as gotten to know some incredible Filipinos along the way, and the news of the typhoon has rocked me to my core. If you feel like, you can play the video in the background while you’re reading this massive chapter! Enjoy the final chapter 🧡💛 I love you all so much!
Tumblr media
Sunday, 9 August
“It’s a beautiful day out,” Y/N’s mother said as she looked out over Porthminster Beach, leaning her head back a little and letting a salty breeze rustle up her grey hair. “Shame we’re spending it in the shade.”
Y/N glanced up at the roof overhead that offered rescue in the sweltering summer sun. Though she loved the sun as well and wanted to spend as much time in it as possible before summer ended soon, she knew that this chat would have her sweating enough without them sitting out of the shade the Porthminster Beach Café provided. Y/N looked down at her iced lemon tea, inhaling slowly as to calm herself. All day yesterday, Y/N had been too anxious to do anything but stay in her room and think about today. While in the lighthouse the day before yesterday, Y/N had sent her mother a text message asking if the two of them could talk without her father or Dominic being present. She knew her mother would’ve told them by now where she was and what she was doing, but she appreciated the fact that she had listened to Y/N’s request and not brought them.
“Didn’t get to go to a proper beach this summer,” Mrs McKay went on, eyes on the sea and where the waves crashed softly against shore. “The family could’ve gone someplace nice, would’ve been good for us.”
Y/N didn’t say anything.
“Think we all just need a break. Go somewhere to forget about everything and reflect on our lives.”
Y/N still kept her mouth shut, knowing that she had to choose her words carefully so that her mother would fully understand.
“Do you remember when we went to that beach in Florida and you saw that sting ray?” Mrs McKay chuckled a little to herself.
“And I screamed for help ‘cause it scared me.”
Mrs McKay laughed some more at the memory, studying the beach some more. “That was truly something else. Not something you’d normally do.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.
“Don’t you miss those days? When everything was simple?” Mrs McKay seemed to be completely lost in her own head and memories, thinking back to a time she had clearly glorified.
“I don’t…” Y/N trailed off, furrowing her brows. “I don’t think everything was that simple back then, or now, for that matter.”
“What do you mean?” Mrs McKay asked. “Don’t you think the family would benefit from taking some time off and just relax like we did back then?”
“It’s…” Y/N glanced at her iced tea. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if it would’ve been a good idea for the family to reconnect again?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not? We need to talk about everything that’s happened these past few months. And especially what happened two days ago, because your father and I agree, Y/N, that was very irresponsible of you, throwing yourself out of a moving vehicle like that.”
“I know it was, I’m aware,” she said. “But in that moment, and I think you know this deep down, that was the only solution. You wouldn’t have stopped to let me out.”
Mrs McKay sighed. “We should definitely think about that holiday I just suggested, it’d be nice.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, studying her mother for a moment before she spoke for the first time in a few minutes. “I don’t… I don’t think it would be, Mum.”
“What do you mean?”
“It wouldn be nice to go on that holiday.”
Mrs McKay finally looked at her daughter, eyes following her outline slowly with a slight tilt to her head as if she was trying to assess what was best to say in this sort of situation. “The beach is always nice.”
“I wasn’t referring to the beach. I was referring to family time.”
Mrs McKay nodded her head slowly, bringing her glass of water up to her lips to take a slow sip.
“I think… I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while now. I think you’ve known it would happen as well.”
Her mother didn’t answer.
“I just… I just want to talk about everything and what’s gonna happen going forward. I don’t want there to be anything left unsaid after this.”
Mrs McKay kept her eyes on the table and nodded again. “Alright. What did you want to talk about?”
“Well… a lot, really.”
“Better start then.”
Y/N swallowed thickly, taking a quick sip of her iced tea before she turned her attention back on her mother, reaching for the ball of courage she had gathered from thinking about and getting ready for this the past two days. “I think ever since I was born, you’ve put pressure on me to live the kind of life you couldn’t when you were younger. When you got me, you saw possibility to make something right that you yourself hadn’t been able to.-”
“-That’s not true.”
“Let me finish. I think, until you got me, you were lonely. Dad wasn’t exactly a fucking dream-“
“-Watch your language.-“
“-And you didn’t really have any friends, so the second I was born, you finally had someone. You could do whatever you wanted with me. Or at least, that’s what you thought,” Y/N said. “You projected this image onto me of what you thought the perfect daughter, the perfect woman, would be, and ‘cause I was terrified of letting you and Dad down, I went along.”
“You’d never do that.”
“But I have. And I will.”
Mrs McKay furrowed her brows, but before she was able to say anything else – though she’d talk over people if she so had to, Y/N knew.
“I’ve been so conflicted, mum.” Y/N heard her own voice break, and it wasn’t till then that she realised that she was close to tears. The lines between Mrs McKay’s brows deepened at the sound. “Part of me hates you.”
Mrs McKay’s face fell at that.
“It hates you so much. It hates you for the days you told me you noticed I’d lost weight and how beautiful I now looked, it hates you for never being interested to listen to me talk about what I’m passionate about, it hates you for belittling said passions and making me feel stupid for having ambitions.”
“Y/N-“
“-It hates you for making me feel conflicted when I first followed my dreams, ‘cause I didn’t know if I was supposed to follow my own or the ones you’d laid out for me just to please you momentarily. Hates you for the trauma you caused me. For the countless hours spent in front of a mirror pointing out my flaws, and taking a really long time to realise that said flaws aren’t that. For hearing your voice in my head when I make a mistake, telling me how I should’ve known better.”
Now it was Mrs McKay’s turn to be stunned to silence, just watching Y/N with a steel face, refusing to show any sign of emotion.
“But…” Y/N dug her nails into her palms, telling herself that she could cry when she got back to the Inn, but not now. “But the other part of me, one that I hate most of all, still loves you.”
Mrs McKay’s lip was a thin line and Y/N recognised that face. That face appeared when her mother was unsure of how to feel about something, but by the looks of the slight tremor in her cheeks, Y/N knew her words had gotten through.
Y/N sobbed, hoping no one around them could hear and that no one she knew were around to witness this. “It loves you ‘cause you’re my mum. You brought me into this world, and you’ve stuck by me. You made me feel loved when I was younger, and I used to look up to you. You used to be my role model.”
Mrs McKay looked away.
“That part makes me feel so horrible, ‘cause how can you love someone who brought you so much self-loathing and misery? How is that possible?” Y/N was quick to wipe away the tear on her cheek. “But I do. I can’t erase that or you from my memory. Part of me is going to miss you after this.”
Mrs McKay met Y/N’s eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to contact me again. None of you. Not you, not Dad, not Dominic.”
Mrs McKay looked absolutely dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon?”
“You three brought me so much torment I don’t want you in my life anymore.”
“Y/N, you’re being ridiculous-“
“-If you want to contact me or meet me, you have to ask me via text message if I am okay with that. If I say yes, that only makes it a one-time thing, we are not going to stay in contact after it. If I say no, don’t try to persuade me, manipulate me, or make me feel bad about it. I’m pushing you out of my life for a reason.”
“Try to think rationally for once-“
“-If you do not respect this and come after me again, I’ll file a restraining order against you, Dad, and Dominic. Won’t look too good on Dad’s record now, will it?”
Mrs McKay just sat there staring again.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Mrs McKay didn’t react.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Y/N nodded then, picking up her iced tea and hoping her mum didn’t see how her hand was trembling slightly.
“You don’t want any contact with your family? The people who are supposed to love you unconditionally-“
“-You might love me, but it’s not in a way that’ll help me grow. Which is what love is all about. St Ives and the people I’ve met here, those are my family. This is home now.”
Mrs McKay took a few moments to think before she said, with a voice so ice cold it made Y/N’s hair stand on end, “You can’t choose your family. You’re put into this world- you’re placed somewhere, where you belong.”
“No. Family and belonging are not synonymous. You are my birth family, but I can choose who I consider to be in my closest circle, the people that mean the most to me,” Y/N said. “You are not that.”
A short silence stretched out between them before Mrs McKay said, “What about your father’s business? The one he inherited from his father, your grandfather.”
“What about it?” Y/N asked. “You never even bothered to tell me what it is.”
“Oh, it’s got something to do with electronic pins. You know those you have in your phone?”
Y/N just looked at her mother.
“I’ve never bothered to ask much, Y/N, it hasn’t ever been very interesting to me.”
“Maybe it would’ve been to me if you’d just let me in on it from the start instead of assuming I was too dim to take on the role as CEO.”
Mrs McKay’s eyes narrowed as if she was about to protest, but she must’ve realised her daughter was speaking the truth because she did not object.
“Can’t Dad just let someone else be CEO? Someone who is actually good at their job instead of giving the job away to Dominic?”
“Dom is qualified for the role.”
“Sure, but he’s also a fucking arsehole.”
Mrs McKay winced at Y/N’s words.
“Mum, you never even wanted me to know what Dad was doing. Let alone want me to take over for him. It’s never been a problem before that I won’t take over after him, dunno why it would be now.”
Mrs McKay just looked at Y/N, their conversation on replay in her head it seemed because she was conflicted. For the longest time, they just stared at one another and realised what this meant. Y/N had been ready for this conversation for a while now, even though she hadn’t realised how badly it needed to be had till this very second. Mrs McKay, nor the other two that had come here, had truly known how Y/N felt before last night. What Y/N had said along with her actions must have spoken volumes. But this, Y/N was aware, took the cake. She was telling her mother, a person who had given up next to everything for Y/N in a sense, to never contact her again unless she had to. It had to sting, and Y/N knew that she would miss her mother sometimes. Those moments when they’d laugh at something together or those early years where Y/N remembered idolising her mum. She’d miss that. But she would also be so much happier without her in her life.
“Well,” Mrs McKay said, voice trembling. “I should be heading back to your dad. He won’t be too happy about the news.”
“Mum, you can leave him.”
The pitiful smile that graced Mrs McKay’s face after that made Y/N cringe. “I won’t.”
Y/N nodded, watching as her mother got up from her seat. She did as well, giving her mother a small smile to offer some peace, to tell her that it would all be okay. At least in Y/N’s world. Y/N could tell that her mother hesitated at first, but once she stepped forward with her arms spread wide, Y/N walked straight into her embrace. They hugged each other tighter than they had ever hugged before, savouring this last, this peaceful moment that they had together.
“Goodbye, Y/N,” her mum said, rubbing her daughter’s back.
“Bye, Mum.”
They stepped away from one another and her mother smiled at her again. Y/N swore she could see tears welling up in her mother’s eyes, but she chose not to point it out, fully aware that she was about to cry herself. Mrs McKay drank the rest of her water, looked one last time into Y/N’s eyes, and then walked past her, down the stairs, and out of sight.
Tumblr media
Monday, 10 August
The teapot was empty and all the biscuits were gone, meaning that Florence, Camila, and Barb were leaving The Roaming Crab Inn. The five of them had been knitting for hours now, and though Y/N had finished her project a while ago, she wanted to spend some more time with the knitting ladies before doing what she had to do. Florence folded the jumper she was working on and Barb hummed some sort of melody while Camila talked everyone’s ears off.
“I’m telling you,” Camila said, putting away her glasses. “The sleeves on this dress are way too big.”
“No, they’re not.” Bessie got up from her seat and walked over to Camila, taking the baby doll lemon dress out of Camila’s hands. Lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose, she took a closer look. “How many were you supposed to cast off?”
“Three.”
“But then this is correct, isn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Camila sighed, taking hold of the dress when Bessie gave it back to her.
“Besides, your granddaughter won’t notice if you did the sleeves wrong.”
Camila looked right up at Bessie with narrowed eyes. “So, you admit I made a mistake?”
“No, I just pointed out that if you did, your granddaughter would hardly see it.” Bessie turned back around to go sit down in her chair, meeting Y/N’s eyes and making a grimace as to say that whatever Camila had just knitted, couldn’t have been correct. She sat back down again as Y/N gathered all the cups and the biscuit tray, carrying it all back inside to the kitchen where she put it in the dishwasher.
“Bye, darling,” Barb smiled as she walked past the kitchen. “Your cardigan’s looking wonderful.”
“Thank you, Barbara. See ya,” Y/N smiled, walking upstairs to put on her green woollen jumper. It was getting rather cold out as evening approached, and though Y/N had just finished knitting her summer project, it wasn’t hers to wear. Looking out the window, she saw the glass with a bouquet of dead flowers still standing in her windowsill. She didn’t have the heart to throw it away since doing so would be like binning the last piece of this summer she still had left. Forcing herself to look away, Y/N blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she started walking back down the stairs and the back garden.
All the other ladies had gone, meaning that it was just Y/N and Bessie left. Bessie still sat knitting, smiling at Y/N as she stepped outside.
“Want me to make another brew?” Y/N asked, adjusting her white summer dress under her oversized jumper.
“No, me lover, that’s quite alright. Thank you, though.”
Y/N smiled, sitting back down in her seat and picking up the cardigan. She was picking at some threads that were poking out, some of the many flaws in her first ever knitting project, when Bessie put her vest down and glanced over at her. Y/N looked back at her, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.
“Is something the matter?” Y/N asked.
“You tell me.”
Y/N huffed, looking back down at her cardigan. “Depends what you’re referring to, I guess.”
Bessie sighed a bit, putting the vest on the table before them. “You haven’t spoken about that chat you had with your mum yesterday.”
Y/N inhaled slowly. “It was a lot to process.”
“We got time.”
Looking up at the older woman again, Y/N was greeted with one of Bessie’s signature warm smiles.
“I told her that I don’t want her, Dad, or Dominic to ever contact me again. She got a bit defensive, but she agreed not to contact me unless necessary.”
Bessie nodded her head slowly. “Do you think she’ll keep that promise?”
“She will, I’m less certain about Dad and Dom.”
Bessie huffed, leaning back against the back of her chair. “That’s men for you, never listen to what a woman has to say.”
“The right ones do.”
Bessie laughed, making Y/N smile a little. “Talking from experience, are you?”
Y/N hoped Bessie couldn’t see her cheeks heat up, but she was sure she noticed, hearing the older woman chuckle heartily before silence settled over them once again.
“You know,” Bessie started, knitting her vest again. “When I was younger, I drew the conclusion that family isn’t always blood and who you’ve spent the most time with. No, family is who makes you feel at home, who makes you feel safe, and loved.”
Y/N looked over at Bessie, biting her bottom lip as it threatened to wobble again.
“Family is who you make it. You don’t owe your parents anything. They might’ve brought you into this world, but they didn’t give you life, you did that yourself. When you decided to leave them, when you came here, when you applied for your UCAT, when you met Harry and everyone else. That’s life. You chose life.”
Y/N couldn’t help her smile, her sight getting blurrier with each passing second, but she didn’t really care just then.
“I’m so proud of you for doing that. It takes a lot of courage to follow your dreams, especially when the environment around you tells you that said dreams aren’t worth it,” Bessie said. “But, you have to remember this, they always are. Every dream is worth it. It’s okay to feel sad after making the right decision.”
A sob escaped Y/N’s lips and Bessie looked up at once, putting the vest away to focus her attention on Y/N who was now full on crying. She hadn’t known how much she needed to hear those words till Bessie finally said them. Holding onto Bessie’s hand for dear life, Y/N looked into the innkeeper’s eyes, trying to smile again, but she couldn’t.
“Bessie, thank you,” Y/N said between sobs. “Truly, thank you so much.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I love you; I love how far you’ve come.”
Y/N brought a hand up to her mouth, stopping a loud sob from coming out from between her lips. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said once she had calmed down a little. “I don’t know where to go, what to do, how I’m gonna handle University when the time comes. Like, I’ll be 26 by that time and everyone who’s starting will be almost ten years younger than me. It feels like everyone’s sprinted this marathon since forever, and I’ve fallen over and struggled to get up so many times that I’ve fallen behind. I don’t know how I’m gonna get back into the race, you know? I can’t win.”
Bessie pondered over Y/N’s words, watching her intently as she wiped more tears away from her face. “You can still win, Y/N. And even if you don’t win, you still did everything you could, and that’s just as good as winning, is it not?”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her and Bessie’s joined hands.
“Life doesn’t wait for you. It doesn’t force you to do anything, it just drags you along on a journey and it’s your responsibility to do what you want with your time on earth. You are still so young, you have so much time to do whatever you wanna do. If you lost your youth to controlling parents, abuse, a partner you thought truly loved you but didn’t, if you lost your youth to mental illness, your life isn’t over. There’s no deadline for anything like that in life. If you wanna go to uni now, five-none years after everyone else you know went to uni, then that’s what you’re gonna do. Who says you have to be a certain age, or at a certain stage in your life, or be satisfied with how you look, act, feel, before doing something that ultimately will make you happy? That will make your life worth living? No, life isn’t gonna wait for you to catch up, no one will, but it’s gonna give you opportunities to right your wrongs, to do what will bring you happiness. There’s no deadline, you still have time.”
Y/N met Bessie’s eyes again and the older woman smiled at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
“All the time in the world,” Bessie said.
“I just don’t know what to do. I just… this feels like home, but after everything that happened last Friday, I’m not sure people want me here.”
“Oh, we do,” Bessie said firmly. “People might not have been happy with you, but they won’t love you any less. This is still your home, Y/N.”
Y/N smiled.
“We are your family now, Y/N. If you need a mum, I’ll be your bloody mum.”
Y/N laughed, leaning forward and bringing Bessie into a hug. Out of everything she had done in the last few days, this was definitely a moment Y/N thought she would cherish forever. This entire summer, Bessie had stood by her. No matter what, Bessie had been beside Y/N, ready to help whenever she needed guidance, and Y/N was unsure if she had ever met someone so willing to love as Bessie. She clung a little tighter onto Bessie, feeling another tear roll down her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling,” Bessie said, a smile in her voice. “Now, all you need to do is revise for the UCAT and give that cardigan to its rightful owner, eh?”
Y/N therefore took the cardigan with her up to her room and sat down by her desk. Though she was sure Harry was home, she was unsure if she’d have the courage to actually knock on the door and give it to him. It’d be better if she just left it there for him, though she knew that would also just look very weird. After everything, she had to face Harry, she was just unsure of how it was all going to play out. It took her a while to find the right words, and once she was done with her final draft letter, she put it on the desk beside the pile of disqualified letters, getting up to find her things and get ready for the trip to the lighthouse. With her stomach hurting from nerves, she put the cardigan in the tote bag, struggling to fit it as she reached for the desk, picking up the letter and shoving it into the tote bag.
With her tote bag on her shoulder, she started on her walk to the lighthouse. She had no idea what Harry would say when she showed up, if he would even allow her to enter his cottage at all. The three days that had passed since the end of summer party felt like ten years each, time had never moved slower. Y/N had waited for this moment for a while now. She had tried to gather the courage she would need for this. But, she kept telling herself this, if she managed to meet her mum and confront her about everything and told her, her dad, and Dominic to stay away from her, then she could walk to Clodgy Point and hand Harry a bloody cardigan. How hard could it be?
However, with each step she took that led her closer to the lighthouse, Y/N felt almost just as anxious, if not worse, than when she walked to meet her mother. There was something about facing Harry after everything that made her mouth dry up. She had absolutely no idea if he would want to see her again after everything, if he could even bear the sight of her after all she put his family and loved ones through. Not only had her father showed up to Jessa’s farm, but Harry had also been violently slammed against his own car and gone into hypo not long after. The mess that had been last Friday had made them both go through emotions neither thought would be possible to endure at once and during one single evening. She wondered if Harry knew she had been to the lighthouse and done the weather reports that night and the following morning.
Walking along Fore Street, Y/N gazed into the shops on either side of the pedestrian street, taking in life in St Ives as she didn’t know what would happen after today. She was originally set to check out of the Inn that morning, August 10th, but Bessie told her it would be alright if she wanted to leave by train later that day. Y/N didn’t know yet where she wanted to go or how far that would be, but all she knew was that she had to be in Plymouth on September 10th to take the UCAT. Besides that, her future looked to be very blurry. It all depended on what happened when she arrived at the lighthouse.
But as she strolled up the hill to Clodgy Point, she didn’t see Harry’s yellow van. Though this was weird at first, she tried to tell herself that he was still home. There hadn’t been a single time that summer when she’d shown up to Harry’s cottage and he hadn’t been there. He was always there.
Knocking on the door though, left Y/N standing there in silence for a single minute, the wild wind, seagulls, and sun overhead the only things keeping her company. She knew it was none of her business looking through the windows into his cottage, but she had to know if he was just ignoring her or if he really wasn’t there. She walked to the side of the house, looking in through the window just beside his bed, the one placed right beside the dining table. The place was empty. Sighing, she walked back over to the door and took her tote bag off her shoulder. She placed it in front of the door, hoping the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and then she got up and walked back the way she came.
It had been stupid to go there in the first place. Of course he wouldn’t be completely by himself after the hypo he had just a few days ago. His family and loved ones would most likely not allow him to be anywhere out of sight till they knew he was alright. Y/N refused to let her eyes start to sting again even though she could feel it coming on. The last few days she had been crying more than she ever had before. She never used to be a big crier, but something about being in St Ives and something about everything, the atmosphere and everyone in this town made her feel much more than before. It made her feel. It made her want.
Returning to the Inn, it was getting much darker out and Cornwall would soon be embraced once again by night. Y/N tried to look for Bessie inside, but the older woman must’ve gone home for a bit because she was nowhere to be seen. Y/N walked back up the steps and to her room, rummaging through her purse for her keys for what could be the last time. It seemed to take more time than usual and she groaned at herself, finding it harder to look for anything when it was so dark everywhere. The dim lighting of the stairs made her stop for a second. Taking a second to just narrow her eyes and get a closer look, Y/N was suddenly able to make out what it was she was seeing.
Bluebells, sea pinks, and hedgerow cranesbills laid neatly right before the door to her room. And though it looked almost just like the bouquets he had made her earlier, this one was almost entirely purple and made out of bellflowers. Y/N reached for it, picking it up and bringing it closer to her face, running her fingers over the soft petals gently as she felt her heart begin to pick up speed. It was as she smelled the flowers that she realised what this meant. Her eyes shot up and she just stared straight ahead at her door as she started breathing fast. He had been here. Harry had stopped by while she was walking to the lighthouse, dropping off the bouquet.
There was no time for hesitation as Y/N shot up into a standing position, running downstairs just as Bessie came back to the Inn.
“Oh! Hello, dear-“
“-Harry’s been here?” Y/N panted, standing in the doorway with the bouquet still in her hand.
Bessie’s eyes fell to the colourful flowers before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “He has.”
“When? Was it long ago?”
“Can’t remember, my darling, I just remember seeing his yellow car outside and there he was.” Bessie tutted softly. “It’s about to fall to pieces, that car of his.”
“You didn’t talk to him?”
A small smile spread out over Bessie’s lips as if she understood exactly what was going on. “I did.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows impatiently. “And?!”
“He asked where you were.”
Y/N waved her hands frantically to get Bessie to tell her what she’d told him in return.
“Told him you’d gone to the lighthouse to find him.”
Y/N ran a hand over her face, inhaling hugely. “Alright. Okay. Deep breaths.”
Bessie watched the younger woman with amusement, cocking her head a little to the side as a knowing smile spread out over her face.
“I… I need to leave. I need to go,” Y/N said. “If he shows up again, tell him I’ll wait.” She ran over to the other side of the street as the sky overhead was a slight darkening blue, tinges of purple and pink along the horizon. She stopped as she got a glimpse of the lighthouse, finally seeing the light. A light that would guide her where she needed to be. And with that, Y/N set off. By Porthminster beach, through Fore Street, flying past slow walkers, running straight for Clodgy lighthouse. She felt the bouquet fall apart, leaving flowers along her path through St Ives in a desperate attempt to get to Harry. To get where she needed and where she was supposed to be.
Though it had been a trek walking up the stone path before, Y/N ran up it with ease this time around. She could see the lighthouse blinking its distinct pattern, could make out some light within the cottage along with the yellow van. A breath left her and her heart began to soar, that shred of hope that had been born from seeing the bouquet in the hotel blossomed. Out of breath and probably very sweaty, Y/N knocked on the door of the cottage. However, like last time, no one opened. So, Y/N tried again, but same luck this time around. She walked out onto the moors and squinted her eyes, trying to look about to see if she could make out Harry’s figure.
“Harry!” she shouted, whipping her head around in different directions to see where he was. “Harry!” She ran beyond the cottage, trying to make out anything, anything at all, against the flat moors. “Where are you?!”
“Y/N!”
It came from overhead. As if an angel was flying just high enough for the wind to carry some of his voice, but low enough so that Y/N could hear him clearly. Turning around, Y/N was sure she was seeing just that, an angel. Harry was standing on the gallery deck of the lighthouse, looking down at her. At the sight of him, Y/N felt an intense tingle go through her entire body. It was an overwhelming sort of happiness, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and it surrounded her, made the air around her static with anticipation and adoration. The sky behind him was darkening so she couldn’t make out his face, but she would be able to do just that soon enough.
Smiling to herself, she ran for the door. She pulled it open and let it slam behind her as she ran up the steps. Past the office, past the bedroom, past everything, till she made it to the very top. Panting and thighs burning, she opened the door on the topmost floor. The ladder to the bell room stood to her right, but she turned left and walked out onto the gallery deck where she’d seen Harry.
There he stood, right under the blinking light. He was looking at her with his lips slightly parted, hair as unkempt as usual, and a look of relief and shock on his face. They were left there just staring at each other for a little while, neither of them able to voice what they had been thinking about for the last three days. Everything from her jumping out of the car to get him, to helping him with his hypo, to doing the weather report, to talking to her mum, and the cardigan. The cardigan. Y/N was ashamed of how long it had taken her to notice it, she blamed the darkening sky above them.
Harry was wearing the colourful square cardigan she had knitted him and placed in front of his door. The one she had put there not even an hour earlier along with her note. Biting her lips together, she let her eyes wander his body. She took in the Elton John tee shirt he was wearing and the loose light washed denim jeans along with his black Vans. But her eyes lingered on what he was holding in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath halted. Their eyes met again, and Harry’s jaw was now working, trying to find the right words as he so rarely did.
“What’s that?” she asked him in a small voice, gesturing at his hand.
He looked down at it before looking up at her again, holding it up for her to see. A book. And not just any book. Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. Her favourite book by her favourite author. The one she had been reading to him in the field beside the lighthouse all summer. Her eyes began to sting again and she wondered once again how many times she would find herself crying in the span of just a couple of days.
“I, uhm…” He looked at it, opening it on the page where he rested his finger. “I just got to this bit right here- I mean, the whole book is rather confusing ‘cause of the whole stream of consciousness thing going on, but…” He pointed a finger at the line he’d been reading. “This right here made sense. Very much.”
The light from the lighthouse continued to shine its pattern across the coast before and around them, making some of Harry temporarily light up. It just strengthened her argument from before, that he was an angel.
“’Nothing is so strange when one is in love,’” Harry said.
“’As the complete indifference of other people,’” Y/N finished and Harry looked up at once, taken aback by her interruption but not at all offended.
He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah.” A few moments passed before he said, with such a soft voice it felt like a caress against Y/N’s skin, “I dunno what’s really going on in that book, to be fair, but… but I understood that. That line made sense.”
“It’s not the best book to start off on if you’re getting into Woolf’s work.”
“Yeah, alright, but I had to, didn’t I?”
“Did you?”
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s your favourite. It-“ He stopped himself, swallowing thickly as he shut the book again and kept eye contact with her. “It was a piece of you. I…” He inhaled slowly. “I didn’t know when I’d see you next- if I ever would again, and… Mrs Dalloway and Woolf just… It reminded me of you. It was a piece of you.”
Y/N wanted to walk closer to him.
“It was all those moments spent out in the field listening to you read it out loud, or just watching you while you did so. I…” He shrugged. “I might not know what’s going on in the book, but I don’t really give a fuck ‘cause if reading it will somehow bring me back to that and back to you, then I’ll bloody well do it.”
Her eyes fell to the book, biting her lips together before glancing up into his eyes again.
“I just wanted a moment. Whatever moment. A single moment with you. I’ve been so… so desperate these last few days,” he said, letting go of a small, but shaky breath. “I just wanted to be. Wanted to be with you. In whatever form, whatever I could get. Just be. Just exist in a place, in a memory, where I was in your presence.”
“Harry-“
“-And if you’re here to say goodbye… I just need this one. This moment. I just need to take it in. I just need to live with you for some seconds.”
Her lips fell apart even more and she furrowed her brow slightly. “Did you not read the letter I left with the cardigan?”
Harry pulled the book up again, tapping his finger against something resting between the cover and the first page. Was he using it as a bookmark?
“So, you read it?”
“’I’ve been knitting this all summer, it looked more like something that would fit you than me. The colours reminded me of you and how you made me feel. Love, Y/N.’”
Ignoring the fact that he had memorised the letter, she groaned slightly, scratching at her neck as she kept her eyes on the letter.
“Well… then I put one of the draft letters with the cardigan.”
Harry frowned.
“I didn’t know what I wanted to say to you, I wrote like 500 draft letters before I actually landed on something like ‘I’ll be at the Inn, please come see me’, but it doesn’t seem like I put that one in there.”
“No,” he said quickly. “You didn’t.”
“But then I saw the bouquet outside my door and Bessie said you’d dropped by. And since we hadn’t talked in days, I didn’t know what you thought of me and everything that had happened.”
“Grace told me. Dax, too.”
She just looked at him.
“Gracie told me you arrived with blood on your elbow and knee, that you helped wake me up, and Dax…” Harry sighed. “Well, he said he knew there was something going on, but he realised that, though we had been faking it, he knew then, just by watching you fuss over me and run for the lighthouse, that you actually cared about me. And he knows me well enough to just see it plainly on me that I have feelings for you, too.”
Y/N didn’t really know what to say. It was true. She cared about him. So very much. But she hadn’t thought about how it would look to Grace and Dax who had, mere hours before, heard that Harry and Y/N’s relationship had been a lie since the start.
“I… Y/N, I wanted to come to the Inn. I’ve wanted to see you ever since Friday, but Jessa wouldn’t let me out of sight and told me to rest for at least a day. And then, on Sunday, I went to the Inn but Bessie said you were out. So… I tried again today, but I wanted to make sure you knew I’d been by in case you were out again, so I left the bouquet.” His eyes fell to her hand, a small smile on his lips. “With bellflowers.”
When Y/N looked down onto her hand again where there had once been a beautiful bouquet. She remembered how she had felt flower upon flower split from between her fingers as she ran for the lighthouse, they were strewn along the path up to the lighthouse now. There was only a single one left in her hand. A bellflower.
“And I made you that cardigan,” Y/N said, looking up at him again. “It’s not perfect. There some faults here and there, a few holes, it’s a bit fucked-“
“-I don’t care,” Harry blurted out. “I like that it’s a bit fucked. I like when you can see the progress, when you can tell that someone’s struggled, but it’s turned out alright. I love it.”
Y/N couldn’t help her smile. She looked down at the flower in her hand, feeling herself clutch it a little tighter, not wanting to let it go.
“Do you…” Harry trailed off, watching her as she met his eyes again. “No, forget it.”
“No, what?”
“It’s stupid, really-“
“-Nothing’s ever stupid, Harry, what’s on your mind?”
“Well…” He shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the bellflower in her hands. “Do you remember when we were on the beach and we talked about your favourite books and started to discuss whether or not destiny is real?”
There was no hesitation before Y/N nodded, remembering every single moment of this past summer in vivid detail.
“You said you believe balance and energy, that you get what you deserve based on what you’ve done, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And I believe that the universe brings us someplace or something ‘cause it’s already got this perfectly sculptured plan for us, where we’re supposed to end up.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve thought about that conversation these past few days, ‘cause…” He thought for a few seconds, finding his words. “I think we got what we deserved.”
Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We lied to everyone. We lied to people we love, to ourselves, and… the universe didn’t want us to lie. It didn’t want us to fake it.”
She tightened her hold on the bellflower, more wind blowing past them where they stood at the top of the lighthouse, the lamp shining its familiar sequence above them.
“Y/N, we’ve done it all wrong. We got what we deserved ‘cause we didn’t do it right.”
“What are you saying?”
“Our theories? You with your energy and balance and me with destiny? It’s all connected, don’t you understand?”
She just looked at him, too awestruck to think clearly.
“You’re right, we did the universe wrong so it got back at us by having our worlds fall apart around us last Friday. And destiny… well, we met and we did it wrong.”
“Then what would’ve been the right way?”
“To never have initiated the fake relationship at all. We should never have done it.”
A small pang of hurt erupted in Y/N’s chest and she furrowed her brows slightly. “Then we wouldn’t have really met each other, though.”
“But we would’ve. I ran into you; I shouldn’t have asked you to be my fake girlfriend. If I had just asked you out…” Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Who the fuck am I kidding? I wouldn’t have done that; I was way too nervous around you then.”
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and she hoped Harry couldn’t tell how flustered she was.
“It was wrong of us to do it.”
“It wasn’t.”
“But it was, Y/N,” Harry said. “’Cause… it was never fake. Not really. We pretended to be a couple, but… it was never fake, not for me. My feelings for you, they’re not, and have never been, fake or a lie.” He took a small step forward, lips parted for a moment before he spoke again. “Every time I’ve touched you, or done something affectionate, or acted like someone who might be in love with you, it’s because I was. I am.”
A breath left her lips and her heart beat out of her chest, a rush of ecstasy flowing through her veins so quickly it made her dizzy with happiness.
“I’m in love with you. I… I’m so immeasurably in love with you, Y/N, that every moment without you, or any moment when I don’t have you close to some capacity, is insignificant. Woolf is right about that. Everything is much more important, I feel so much more than I did before you, all my senses are heightened, but I feel the most for you. It’s been like that for a while now.”
Y/N walked over to him, eyes on his before she looked down at the bellflower between them. “I didn’t…” She bit her lip for a second. “I didn’t really know what love was till I came to St Ives. I knew what it was to kind of love someone, I know that… to some degree I love my mum. I cared about Dominic, and I even loved Dad when I was little.” She glanced up again. “But I’ve never felt love like this. I’ve never been on the receiving end, never loved as much as I’ve done this summer. I feel so full of it. You know when you fill a bucket or a glass or anything with water, and the second it pours over the brim, the water envelopes it? That’s how this summer has felt.”
Harry smiled a little, his right dimple showing.
“You showed me what it means to love and be loved in return, that is what we’re put on this planet to do. What is life if you’re not loved and you don’t love?”
He just looked at her, eyes tracing her face and taking in each one of her features.
“It was never fake, Harry. Never.” The smile on his face disappeared and a shaky breath slipped from between his lips. “I’ve been falling in love with you all summer. I didn’t even realise how hard and fast it had happened till you kissed me at Porthgwidden Beach,” she said. “Even… Even if you kissed me just for show.”
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head quickly before he looked at her again, not sure if he’d heard her correctly. “What?”
“You kissed me-“ She stopped herself, tilting her head at him. “You kissed me to show off that we were a couple… right?”
“No, I didn’t,” he said. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Everything I’ve ever done has never been for show. Nothing was a lie. I wanted to kiss you at Porthgwidden. I had wanted to kiss you for a while.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Y/N, I always want to kiss you,” Harry admitted. “Always.”
She couldn’t help her slight smile. “Nothing was for show?”
“Nothing.”
“Everything was real?”
He looked down, finger tracing the petals of the bellflower in her hand. “We’re real, flower. Our feelings are real.”
“Then… if you always want to kiss me,” Y/N said, voice low and filled with purpose. He looked up at her quickly. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?”
Another breath left Harry’s lips and he ended up just staring at her. The entire summer flashed before them as their eyes drifted from each other’s eyes to their lips and back up again. Them running into one another, going to Grace’s birthday, the kamayan on the beach, and everything that followed. Her reading to him in the grass, looking up every now and again to catch him watching her, a tinge of pink on his cheekbones as he looked away, doing his best to hide his smile which in turn made it impossible for Y/N to hide hers. Everything passed between them in those seconds where Y/N waited for him to kiss her. It was a whole summer of miscommunication, wrong-doings, and making up for mistakes, everything had come to this.
Harry raised his hand, slowly sliding his thumb over her cheek before he settled his fingers at the nape of her neck. They leaned into one another, resting their foreheads together and for a little moment, they just stood there. She let him hold onto her as she moved to slide her hands up his back, still holding onto the bellflower. Y/N glanced upward, the lamp of the lighthouse turning on. Seeing the light, she felt peace run through her. This was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Looking back at Harry, her eyes lingered on his lips before she met his eyes again. With that, he leaned in, and pressed his lips softly against hers. The light overhead turned on again and Y/N knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was home. The taste of Harry’s lips, his hands on her neck and hips, his breath against her cheek; just having him in her presence, that was where she belonged.
They detached their lips for a short second, eyes meeting. “You’re staying?” he asked.
“I’m staying,” she answered. “If you want me to.”
There was a slight pause where they just looked at one another. She saw a smile form on Harry’s lips before he leaned in again, kissing her more fiercely. She felt his smile against her lips, making her smile back, unable to help herself. Harry tried to widen their lips so his tongue could trace hers, but their smiles were too wide, and their teeth ended up sliding against one another, making Y/N laugh and Harry giggle. They opened their eyes again, just looking at one another and smiling until they calmed down, kissing one another again.
This time, Harry managed to open their mouths in unison, tongues gliding against one another, and they were finally able to taste one another again. Nothing else mattered as they drew out the kiss, letting the heavenly rush that was going through their bodies in that moment take over completely. They were buzzing with electricity, shining like a star where they stood joined together. Y/N was sure that the lamp inside the lighthouse could go out, and her and Harry would light up the entire world and guide everyone who needed help, home.
She slung her arm around his neck, the hand clutching the bellflower rested on his shoulder and they deepened the kiss. It was the happiest moment of her life, standing there, at the top of the lighthouse, with Harry. There would be nothing like this ever. Everything had led to this. It was as Harry had said, everything else was so much more colourful now, but so insignificant in comparison to him, to this. How had she ever thought she’d live a life without him in it?
“You can spend the night,” Harry said once they had regained their breaths. “We don’t have to do anything; I just want you to stay here with me.”
She smiled at him, letting go of a breathy chuckle. “I’ll stay the night.”
He smiled back, kissing her temple. “I just want you as close as possible.”
She turned her face and pressed her lips against his again, closing her eyes and melting into him again. He gripped her face gently, pulling her to him and moaning softly against her, his wet lips making a hot shiver run up her spine that absolutely no one but Harry had been able to conjure. An early autumnal wind blew past them and though it was a cold breeze, Y/N felt herself radiate warmth. They giggled against one another when they realised they had completely forgotten where they were, the plans from earlier about going downstairs.
Harry took Y/N’s hand and the two walked back down the stairs, Harry carrying Mrs Dalloway and Y/N the bellflower. Once they reached the cottage, Y/N walked straight over to the kitchen and found a small glass she could put the flower in, and once it was filled with some water, she put it on the dining table, smiling a little at it. Harry walked over and sat down in the windowsill Y/N had spent countless hours studying for her UCAT, he watched her as she marvelled at the bellflower, studying it in the dim light of the cottage.
“What’ve you been up to the past few days?” Harry asked as Y/N sat down by the dining table.
“Been knitting that,” she said, nodding in the direction of the cardigan Harry was still wearing. “And I had a chat with Mum.”
Harry paused for a few seconds, letting the words Y/N had just uttered sink in. “You… You talked?”
“Yeah.”
“Did your parents and-“ Harry made a grimace as if saying the name made him ill. “Dominic show up unannounced again?”
Y/N tried not to smile. “No, I asked Mum to meet me.”
“Oh.” Harry nodded his head some, letting the words sink in. “Alright.”
“I just wanted to make it very clear that I don’t want anything to do with them again. Told her that if they came close to me or tried to meet me without letting me know and talking to me beforehand, I’ll file a restraining order or summat like that. I dunno how to do it or if the situation is, like, qualified for one-“
“-Jo will help. They work for a law firm; they’ll know what to do.”
“I’d appreciate that very much.” She sighed. “If Jo and the rest of St Ives will ever truly forgive what we did.”
Harry’s eyes fell to his hands in his lap, letting some silence settle between them before he said, “Yeah, Jessa wasn’t impressed.”
There had not been a moment prior to this when Y/N had felt angrier and more ashamed of herself. Out of everyone she had met in her life up until that point, and probably forever, Jessa was one of the most accepting and kindest people she had ever met. The fact that she had not only disappointed Jessa but also hurt her, made Y/N so thoroughly sad that it was hard not to scream out in anger.
“Did she…” Y/N trailed off, gesturing with her hands as Harry looked up at her again. “Did she talk to you about everything when you stayed at the farm with them that day after your hypo?”
Harry shook his head. “No. She barely spent any time with me, just told Grace to keep me company while she tended to the farm. She didn’t want to let me be alone, though. She can be mad at me, but she still can’t be that mad, you know what I mean?” Harry chuckled some. “Got the biggest heart out of anyone I know, Jessa does.”
Y/N smiled a little at that. “She had to know you’d be alright.”
“I heard you went up to the lighthouse to do the weather reports.”
She bit her lips together, remembering that night in vivid detail.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for that.”
“You couldn’t do them, and someone had to.”
Harry chuckled. “You’re making it sound like it was dreadful.”
“It was!” He laughed even more at her exclamation. “I was proper freaking out!”
“But you did an amazing job! Everything you’ve written down is correct and I can guess then that your report was as well.”
She smiled. “I hope so.”
Harry smiled back, getting up to take the cardigan off and put it on a hanger by his dresser.
“Who did it after I left? I went back to the Inn after the 9am one.”
“Dax told me you were at the lighthouse and when he got your text saying you’d be leaving, he told me, I called Trinity House, and another lighthouse keeper off-duty came and stepped in for the day.”
“Okay, good,” Y/N said. “I was scared I just left it in the hands of no one, but I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did plenty. Thank you, genuinely.” Harry looked at the clock on the wall, letting go of a long sigh before he walked over to the lamp by his sofa, turning it off.
“I…” Y/N said, cracking the knuckle of her thumb as nervousness suddenly flooded her. She had thought about this a fair amount since the party last Friday and she felt like it had to be addressed. “The piano piece you played at the end of summer party,” Y/N started, making Harry look over at her. “It was beautiful.”
“You mean your song?”
Y/N felt lightheaded at him addressing it like that.
“It kinda just came to me throughout the summer. The first bit was just us laying in the grass and as it picks up you can kinda tell how much you begin to mean to me,” he explained. “It’s nostalgic, it’s what I was going for anyway. You don’t really know if you should be happy or sad, ‘cause the memories make you feel both at the same time.” He walked over to the foyer and locked the front door, turning the lights off, closing the door leading out there, separating them from the entrance. “Played it for Grace a couple of times and I was gonna play it for you, but… well, then everything went to shit, didn’t it?”
Y/N let out a small chuckle, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, everything fell apart all at once.”
“It did,” he agreed, turning a lamp on top of his dresser off. “But we made it, didn’t we?”
She smiled at that.
Harry paused for few seconds, looking out through the major window at the far-end wall where he had just been seated, furrowing his brows as he thought. It was as if he had just remembered something, biting his lips together as his eyes fell to the floor again. Not knowing what was on his mind, Y/N kept her mouth shut.
“I… I can’t remember much from last Friday,” he confessed, looking back up through the window. “It’s not even a blur, it’s just… it’s not there.”
Y/N just looked at him.
“Usually what happens when my blood sugar’s low. I get dizzy, start to sweat and I shake, and I’ll be very irritable, the slightest thing will tick me off.” Harry walked over to the dining table, sitting down next to Y/N. “And, if I go into a hypo, I won’t remember the hypo, or most of the moments leading up to it. I’ll just slowly jolt out of it and realise what’s happening.”
She nodded, eyes falling to his hands that were folded together on the table before him.
“I remember your family arriving and I remember being scared out of my bloody mind when I realised what was going on- when you and Bessie fucked out of the barn. I knew something was up. I kind of had a hunch as to what it was, but… I didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t.”
She wanted to reach for his hand.
“I didn’t even know who they were, you hadn’t shown me any pictures of them, so I couldn’t tell from just looking at them, but I knew. An old married pair and that… that ruddy tosser – don’t even wanna say his name – came out of that car, and I just knew. I couldn’t let you go with them.”
“I’m sorry-“
“-No,” Harry stopped her. “No, I get why you did. Didn’t wanna cause a scene, and all that.”
She nodded. “Thought it’d be better if I went, didn’t want to fight with them in front of everyone.”
Harry looked up at her. “You fought with them?”
“Not a physical fight.”
“A man can only dream.”
She laughed.
“You should’ve levelled He Who Must Not Be Named while you still had the chance.”
She grinned at him. “When I become a dentist and he’s my patient, I’ll pull all his teeth out without any anaesthetics. How ‘bout that?”
Harry smiled back. “That’ll be a right laugh.”
She giggled, looking down at his hands again.
“What happened in the car then? You had an argument?”
Biting at her bottom lip, Y/N thought about the entire car incident before looking up into Harry’s eyes again. “I told them I wouldn’t come back to Hampshire, that I wouldn’t move in with Dominic, that-“
“-They wanted you to move in with that grotesque git?!” Harry sounded flabbergasted.
She smiled a little again. “Yes, well, Mum and Dad don’t really care what I think as long as it looks good, you know.”
Harry nodded, motioning for her to continue on explaining.
“And then I told them I was doing a UCAT exam. None of them believed it or wanted me to take it, and that’s when Gracie called,” Y/N explained. “I asked Dad to stop the car so I could go back, but he wouldn’t let me out. I kind of realised that nothing would stop him. So, when I felt him stepping on the break before he was about to turn, I told them not to follow me, and I jumped out of the car.”
Harry stared at her, mouth hanging open, blinking multiple times as if he was picturing the entire thing unfold. “You…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You jumped out of their car?”
“To get to you, yeah.”
A small breath left his lips and he continued to just look, a sort of appreciation on his face that made Y/N warm with pleasure. Again, she felt an urge to reach for his hand and hold onto him, to check if he was okay. Reliving those memories in her head and talking about them, made her also revisit the feelings of dread at the news of Harry’s hypo. Just wanting to get to him, just wanting to see he was alright.
“You’re bloody mad,” he said, a breathy chuckle following his utterance. “Brilliant, but out-of-your-mind mad at the same time.”
Y/N laughed again, smiling at Harry. “Did you feel the hypo coming on?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered, scratching at his jaw as his eyes fell on the dark field beyond the window beside the kitchen table. “Yeah, I usually feel them. This time around there was so much happening all at once, I didn’t really feel it till it happened. I’m usually very good at regulating my blood sugar, not had a shock like that in years.”
She leaned her elbows on the table, taking a grip of her upper arms as she watched him talk.
“I used to not want to take my insulin pens out in front of people after we had a meal out or stuff like that, it used to make me feel very vulnerable. I used to feel exposed, as if I was showing people a secret of mine that I didn’t want them in on. It was the same when I was overweight, I didn’t wear revealing or tight-fitted clothes ‘cause I didn’t want people to think I was bigger, you know what I mean? The better I could hide it from everyone else, the easier I could hide it from myself. So, I had a few hypos when I was younger.”
Two lines appeared between his brows as he thought, Y/N wanted to reach over and stroke them away.
“I think I was just so used to hiding parts of myself – big parts – that made it almost instinctive, hiding the fact that I was diabetic. I thought there was something wrong with me at first, ‘cause this would change my entire life, you know?” He let out a chuckle. “But then I went to this event thingy where I met other kids with diabetes, and I realised that it was much more common than I’d ever thought before. Not only that, but it had been stupid of me to ever hide it, to be ashamed of it. When you’re a kid, all you want is to fit in. You don’t wanna stick out or give anyone a reason to pick on you in any way. All the bullying before had really made an impact, I never wanted to experience it again, you know?” He sighed. “Some people will bully you for anything, especially those things you cannot help.”
Y/N furrowed her brows as she listened to him.
“But I was surrounded by people who made me realise that life is too short to be embarrassed, especially about things you cannot change.  People who judge others for what they choose to do with their lives, are often the ones who still struggle to know who they are themselves, constantly critiquing others for their quirks and wrong-doings as if it’ll erase their own.”
Y/N smiled a little, nodding her head. “Yeah, my thighs have always been bigger,” she said. “I used to hate them ‘cause Mum would point them out and tell me I’d be wise to lose weight, but-“ Y/N shrugged. “-I like the way they jiggle when I walk, and though thigh chafing is an absolute pain, I still find them cute. It took me some time to realise that, of course. Especially when the environment around me keeps telling me they are. But I couldn’t care less, to be fair. Though it doesn’t feel like it at times, there are far more important things in life than an insignificant opinion. Big thighs save lives, do they not?”
The frown on Harry’s face has evaporated as Y/N spoke, a soft smile left in its wake. “Too right.”
Y/N smiled back.
“I love your thighs. They just-“ Harry made to reach for them, but stopped himself. Y/N laughed at him as he blinked himself out of some sort of trance.
“They what?”
“They’re pretty.”
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up instantly. No one had ever said that. That they liked her thighs. It only made those butterflies inside Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings even more wildly, not knowing how to properly act around Harry anymore.
“I was about to say something that would be a bit inappropriate,” Harry mumbled.
“What?”
“No, I can’t say. It’ll ruin the mood.”
“Nothing will ever ruin the mood, Harry.”
“Fine,” Harry hissed, inhaling quickly. “I just wanted to say that I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”
Her entire body went hot at that, because not only did it take her off guard, but she instantly remembered the feeling of his slight scruff against the inside of her thighs. Just thinking about it made her all dizzy with a need to feel it again. It all came sneaking up on her so suddenly that she was left biting her bottom lip, just looking at Harry as she clambered for things to say.
“See!” Harry exclaimed, chuckling. “Ruined the mood!”
“It just took me by surprise!”
“Right,” he laughed, getting up from the chair.
“I’m sorry for turning the lights out, it’s 9pm and I usually go to bed then. Gotta be up in about five hours.”
“Of course,” Y/N said, getting up. “We’ll… I’ll let you go to bed.”
“You’re not coming to bed?”
She just stared at him for a few moments. “I didn’t want to assume.”
“Assume,” Harry said, walking towards the bathroom.
Y/N laughed, following after him.
The two brushed their teeth together, Y/N using the toothbrush she had used the times before when she’d been there. Turns out, Harry had never thrown it out in case they would find themselves in this position multiple times. They took their time as Y/N ended up laughing at Harry, toothpaste dribbling down his chin. He told her that always happened and Y/N thought this was odd as Harry had a fairly big mouth.
Once again, he lent her a tee shirt. This time around, she only slept in that and her knickers, not really caring that Harry saw her in them as he’d seen her naked before. Harry only wore his boxers, putting on his sleep mask as Y/N picked up Mrs Dalloway where Harry had put it on the bed. Getting under the covers, she opened it on the page where he’d left off, smiling a bit to herself as she read a few passages. With a window open and most of the lights turned out except for the lamp on the nightstand, Harry got into bed with a grunt, pulling the covers over him. He glanced over at her, studying her face as she read, how her eyes flickered from word to word, line to line, paragraph to paragraph.
“Creep,” she mumbled, and Harry chuckled a little, getting into a comfortable position on his side so he could watch her.
“Read to me?” he asked, voice hoarse with on-coming sleep and Y/N found it so endearing and the question so familiar that a tingling sensation ran from her toes all the way up to the hair roots at the top of her head.
And so she did as he asked. She read from Mrs Dalloway, so softly and carefully that she almost lulled herself off to sleep. However, Harry was clinging to consciousness all he could. He would almost drift off but come back with a jolt, eyes wide open as if he tried to fight sleep, watching her lazily and intently, not daring to take his eyes off of her in case she wouldn’t be there when he opened them again. But it was only so much he could do, and, in the end, soft snores emitted from her companion, and Y/N put the book away, turning off the last light before joining Harry under the sheets.
It took her a while to fall asleep as well. She was just left staring at Harry, not really believing that this was all real. After everything that had happened these last few days, this almost seemed like a “too good to be true” ending and Y/N was nervous. She was content just being close to Harry like this, this was where she’d always wanted to be, but there was still a lot that needed to be addressed. The two of them had to talk about what would happen next, she needed to talk to everyone else, and she had to continue revising for the UCAT because it was now under a month till she was supposed to take the exam. The many thoughts and uncertain future kept her up like it had the last few nights, and Y/N wondered when she’d get a good night’s sleep.
She jolted awake some hours later, blinking up at the ceiling as Harry got up on his elbow and reached for his phone, turning the alarm off. Y/N watched as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face to wake himself up a bit. She knew he couldn’t turn the lights on as it would ruin his night vision which he needed when he was out looking at the Stevenson Screen, so her eyes followed him as he got up from the bed and walked over to put the same outfit on that he’d worn before; his denim shorts and a pink tee shirt over it. He glanced over at Y/N, part of him must’ve realised she was awake.
“Alright?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep and it made Y/N wake up even more. The sound of it made her all hot.
She nodded her head. “Your alarm clock just woke me up.”
“Yeah, I could tell,” Harry said, smiling a bit. “You jumped a bit.”
She smiled back as Harry gave her a small nod, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb before he walked out of the cottage and toward the lighthouse.
She wasn’t able to fall back asleep, however. She laid awake, looking up at the ceiling overhead and thinking too many thoughts all at once, her head feeling heavier than it had that entire night. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all, yet also had the deepest sleep of her life. After all, she had been with Harry this entire time, the two of them had talked everything out, they were okay, she should’ve had an amazing night sleep. But there was something that nagged at the back of her mind, something she had not been able to stop thinking about since Harry had said it just before they went to sleep.
“I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”
Her thighs. Soft. He liked the feel of them against him, around his face, as his head was between her legs. And then Y/N realised why her night had been so confusing and why it had been hard to fall asleep in the first place. Her body hadn’t forgotten those words. It had reacted to them while her brain had been wistfully unaware, letting it create an ache along her skin that only Harry could do something about. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep again.
Her mind immediately travelled back to the times before when Harry had tasted her. Whenever they had the chance to get intimate, he had always insisted on going down on her, like it was a privilege to, like he needed to. Y/N supposed it made sense, as he had told her how much he enjoyed getting his partner off, that knowing he was getting them off got him off. Seeing how hungry he truly was to make someone squirm and cry out his name, Y/N was always astounded by how true he had been to his word. He loved it. And something about that made Y/N’s entire body heat up. She found it so hot that he would do just about anything for someone else if it meant he’d help them over the edge.
Y/N’s eyes opened again, and she turned so her face was hidden in the pillow, screaming into it at how pathetic she was being. A thought had struck her, because she was sure that if she didn’t get rid of this ache now, it’d be even harder for her to fall back asleep afterward. Laying back down on her back, her eyes found the ceiling again and she rested a hand at the very bottom of her tummy. Harry wouldn’t be back for some time still, if she was quick she’d be done by the time he got back. And if she wasn’t quick and didn’t finish, she’d just excuse herself to the bathroom and finish everything quietly in there. Yes, that was a good plan.
Lifting the band of her knickers, Y/N reached down, hoisting her legs up slightly so it’d be easier for her to access all of herself. She ran a finger from her clit and down to her hole, not surprised to find wetness pooling there already. She smeared it out over herself; flicking her fingers over her bud, down to her hole again, making sure each part of her was covered in it. Continuing on like this until she basically found her core aching with a need for her to finish, Y/N started focusing entirely on her bud.
She thought of Harry. Thought of how he had looked while he ate her out from behind, his green eyes peering over at her as he looked over her shoulder at him. And then next came an image of Harry laying on his back in the bed in the lighthouse bedroom, eyes shut tight and mouth in an O-shape, forehead creasing as Y/N sat down on him, taking him into her. A low and long rumble emitted from him, vibrating through her, and Y/N gasped. He was sweaty, needy, and so incredibly hot where he laid under her, completely at her disposal, that it made the room spin around her. It all happened so quickly and it was so easy for her to almost reach a peak that she found herself inhaling sharply, letting go of a moan she had not meant to let pass her lips.
And it had been the worst possible moment for her to moan as well, because the door into the cottage opened and Harry stepped inside. Y/N stopped herself immediately, laying back down as if nothing had happened. However, by the way Harry quickly closed the door and locked it, looking over at her, she was sure he must’ve either heard or seen something. None of them spoke for a moment as they just looked at one another, at a loss for words. Y/N’s entire body felt like it was burning, but this time it was from embarrassment and not from want. If someone could transport her into an alternate dimension where she had chosen not to masturbate in Harry’s cottage while he was out doing the weather report, that would’ve been nice.
Harry’s mouth opened and closed again as he took his shoes off, still not stepping further into the cottage than the foyer. The silence was deafening, and Y/N wanted to scream. Couldn’t he just say something? He already knew partly what she had been doing according to how pink and flabbergasted he was, the least he could do was say something. Y/N didn’t mind him hearing or seeing her. In fact, she quite liked the idea. But she hadn’t intended to make Harry uncomfortable or make him not want to come back to bed.
“Uhm…” Harry said, clearing his throat as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Do you… I can…” He let his arm fall to his side. “I’ll go sleep in the lighthouse if you want some-“
“-No,” Y/N interrupted him. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed… I didn’t mean…” But she, like Harry, didn’t really know what to say. What was the right thing to say in a situation like this?
“I’ll step outside if you want to finish.”
“No, I-“ Y/N couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. This whole thing was so awkward and could’ve been so easily prevented. “-It’s fine. You can come back here to bed if you want to sleep next to me.”
Harry chuckled. “Don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather be, to be honest.”
Y/N bit her lips together, wiping her fingers on her thigh before she positioned herself on her side again. She watched as Harry too his tee shirt off, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought for a few seconds. He didn’t look at her as he asked, “Did you finish, then?”
Y/N felt like she was on fire again, looking away from Harry as he unbuckled his denim shorts. “No, but it’s-“
“-Would you let me give it a try?”
She blinked, meeting his eyes. “Pardon?”
“Let me try to make you finish.” He got into bed with her, not taking his eyes off of her. “Please?”
A chill went up her spine and her centre began to ache painfully again. Not knowing what she was doing till she was doing it, Y/N nodded. Harry removed the covers from over her and Y/N got cold at once, but the sight of Harry’s eyes travelling down her body made her forget about the lack of the duvet at once. He leaned in, kissing her lips softly. It was a lazy sort of kiss, their mouths opening up for one another slowly and their tongues tangling, their lips getting wet and small whimpers emitted from their mouths as the make out session was dragged out. Suddenly, Harry started kissing down her jaw and neck, over her breasts that were covered in his tee shirt and down her body.
“What were you thinking about while you were getting off?” Harry asked, crawling further down the bed until his face rested just above the place she needed him. She was still on her side, Harry resting his head on her right thigh while she was holding up her left one as not to rest it on his head, she’d suffocate him for sure.
“You,” she answered simply, and Harry groaned against her skin, vibrating through her entire body, and especially her clit that was already sensitive from Y/N’s earlier try.
Harry hooked his fingers around the hem of her underwear, moving his head as to get it off, but he didn’t move it past her knees.
“Don’t move these,” he said, gesturing at her underwear. “Want to feel your thighs tight around me.”
“When you were under me, that first time we had sex,” she continued to explain.
“Hmm,” Harry hummed, kissing her folds that were now exposed to him. Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at him where he was almost hidden between her legs. “Liked that?”
“Love it when you’re needy.”
Harry kissed her again, making Y/N gasp slightly. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve thought about you, too.”
She froze a bit, looking down at him.
“Gotten off to the thought of you. A bit of a sad wank after we shagged in the car. Bloody fucking hell,” Harry said, sounding breathless. “When you wrapped your hand around my throat… so fucking hot.”
Harry didn’t wait for Y/N to say anything however because he ran his tongue over her and she immediately moaned, her left leg shaking as the impact rocked through her. Harry buried himself there between her legs, drawing out his licks over her until he focused solely on her clit. He sucked and Y/N’s eyes fluttered close. It hadn’t been far from climax when she had tried to get herself off earlier, it was embarrassing how quickly she would come now. However, as Harry continued to suck on her and make noises as if he was enjoying himself immensely, having the meal of his life, Y/N didn’t quite care. She was losing her mind as it was, feeling Harry’s tongue and mouth on her again, a sensation she had missed.
She felt Harry’s scruff against her skin and though it tickled some, she welcomed this feeling. She couldn’t come up with a number high enough if she were to say how many times she had thought about being in this position with Harry again. Before Harry, Dominic hadn’t bothered going down on Y/N much, and this hunger of Harry’s, his desire to make her come and scream while she did, was in such drastic contrast that it was almost laughable. Harry would not rest till he knew she had had a mind-blowing orgasm, while Dom had never even asked her if she finished. She often had to do the job herself with him, but with Harry, he was the one doing that for her.
“Oh, God,” she moaned as Harry wrapped his lips around her bud again, sucking her deliciously.
She reached down, taking Harry’s hair in her hands, and biting her lips as she let out another moan. He was working hard on making this one an orgasm to remember, she could feel it. As an electric shock ran through her, making her gasp for breath, her left leg fell onto Harry’s face. About to lift it again, she heard a sound of contentment from down there. Harry liked it. He liked the feeling of her thighs around him, suffocating him almost. Another thrill ran through Y/N at the thought.
“Harry,” she gasped, her grip on his hair tightening, he hummed against her in response.
She clung to him, the feeling of fire hot tension in her core was starting to reach that point where it’d burst, and Y/N was making more and more noise the nearer it drew. Harry held onto her, slipping two fingers into her while he continued to eat her out, looking up every now and again to look at her. At the feeling of his fingers, Y/N gasped again, crying out his name as hot pleasure erupted from her core and all throughout her body, making every cell aware of what was soon to happen.
“Couldn’t sleep just now,” Harry admitted between licks and sucks. “After our chat, all I kept thinking about was the taste of your sweet cunt and your thighs around me as I eat you out.”
Y/N moaned in response, dizzy with approaching bliss.
The wet sucking sounds of Harry’s lips as well as his fingers now, almost echoed throughout the room. Something that before would’ve disgusted her previous partner, but something that made her current partner, and herself, highly aroused. She pulled at his hair as he sucked on her again, picking up the pace of his fingers, and making it hard for Y/N not to cry out yet again. She felt it then. Just there. A little bit out of reach.
“Come on, baby,” Harry said against her, voice husky. “Come loud and nice for me now.”
Y/N gasped again, Harry’s words taking her off guard. However, it didn’t take long after that. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked more forcefully this time around, making the world around Y/N shatter completely. She gasped and moaned and cried out Harry’s name as she came. Fires licking at each of her organs, making it hard for her to breathe as Harry got out from between her thighs. He got up instantly to get her something to clean up with, not letting her do it himself. As she calmed down, biting her lips as Harry laid down next to her, she saw the small start of a grin. Before she could ask what he was thinking about, Harry spoke.
“I’ve been running low on vitamin P these last few days.”
Y/N was silent for a moment before she understood, then she just looked at him. Of course. “Don’t say it.”
“Vitamin pussy.”
Y/N brought her hands up to her face to hide it from view as they both laughed. It had been such a stupid joke after such a serious and hot moment spent together that neither of them could help themselves. It was exactly what Y/N had expected from Harry and she loved it, even though it was the stupidest joke she had ever heard. Harry’s phone went off, and Y/N wondered if it was 6am already, though that wouldn’t make sense as it at just been 3. Harry sat up, looking at his phone and bringing it up to the sensor on his upper arm, clicking his tongue.
“Seems eating you out didn’t work to get my blood sugar up, it’s still low.”
Y/N laughed again, feeling a pain in her ribs as she looked up at Harry.
“I’ll go eat something ‘cause your cunt’s clearly not sweet enough, and I’ll be back for cuddles-“
“-Hey!”
“I can’t cuddle now, my blood sugar-“
“-Thought you said earlier that my cunt’s sweet.”
Harry grinned down at her, kissing her forehead. “Can’t imagine myself living without the taste of you.” And then he got up, walking over to his kitchen to make himself a toast.
Next time she woke was a little after nine when Harry returned to the cottage after another report, trying to be as quiet as possible as he made a quick brew of coffee. She opened her eyes slowly and just watched him, finding herself smiling at the sight of him standing there in the pale morning sun. He wandered over to the sofa once he had his cup, flicking through the newspaper before him and taking his time before he had to start on a new day around the Clodgy grounds. Y/N let him sit there by himself for a while, understanding that he just needed to properly wake up and relax after a night of reporting and working.
Once he was done with his coffee and closed the newspaper before him, Harry glanced over at Y/N, stopping a little when he saw her already looking at him.
“Morning,” he said, voice still a bit groggy with sleep as he hadn’t talked much still. He cleared his throat. “I, uhm…” He looked at the coffee cup, mouth open as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh.” He nodded, eyes landing on her again, giving her a small smile before he picked up the coffee mug and walked over to the dishwasher with it. “You want some coffee?”
“I’m good, thanks, though.”
“No problem.”
She continued to just watch him, the tiniest of smiles on her face. Harry walked about the kitchen, looking through his fridge before he rummaged through the bowl of fruit on the counter. It seemed he was busying himself as he tried to find the right words to say, stopping a few times when he thought he had it, but then starting up his hunt again.
“How’d you sleep then?”
Y/N’s smile widened, still feeling Harry’s stubble where it had been between her thighs only hours beforehand. “Great, and you?”
Harry glanced over at her, smiling as well now. “Been a while since I’ve slept that well, to be honest.”
She giggled, sitting up in bed. She noticed his eyes flickered to her chest where she was sure her nipples were visible through her shirt. His cheeks flared and he looked away before meeting her eyes again. “Same here.”
His cheeks got redder and he couldn’t help his little smile. “Right.”
She smiled, stretching where she sat in the bed. “I feel like I need a shower. Might pop by the Inn-“
“-No, you can-“ Harry didn’t finish that sentence, instead he gestured at the bathroom with a little nod, biting his lips together. “I’ll… I’ll go outside and do some chores.”
Y/N nodded, getting up from the bed. “If you’re sure.”
“You don’t even have to ask, Y/N.”
That sent a shiver up her spine and her smile widened. “I still want to make sure. You never know when you’re stepping over a line or summat.”
“Not here, never here.”
It was incredible how much Harry made her feel at once. His words made her warm with adoration, but they also made her want to run over to him and rip his clothes off. She just wanted to be close to him, to physically touch him all over again. It had been so long since she’d felt his skin, kissed him, even though it had only been last night, and she longed for it all again. She missed being close to him, missed feeling him take over each one of her senses. The feeling of him being all around her, paralysing her and making her feel full of nothing but peace and love. Was there anything that felt better than that? Than not being able to do anything anywhere completely with someone because you were so in love with them it consumed you? Wasn’t the feeling of someone you were utterly, truly in love with feeling the same way about you, wanting to be with you like you wanted to be with them? How lucky hadn’t they been to have found each other and fallen at the same time.
Y/N walked over to the bathroom, watching Harry where he was stood by the foyer. She hadn’t expected to blurt it out like she did. In fact, in retrospect, she wasn’t sorry she had suggested it, but she knew that it had taken both her and Harry off guard. However, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t opened her mouth either. Something they both would have regretted.
“Do you wanna come?”
Harry blinked a few times as if he was certain he hadn’t heard her right.
“In the shower?”
His mouth fell open slightly and he continued to just look at her, for a second looking like he thought she was taking the piss.
“If you’re busy you don’t have to, but the offers there-“
“-Y-You want me to come-“ Harry stopped himself, furrowing his brows. “You want me to come in the shower with you?”
“Yeah, unless you’re busy. I know-“
“-No, I…” Harry inhaled slowly. “No, I want to. I’ll come.”
Y/N smiled at him, opening the bathroom door as butterflies swarmed around in her stomach. It had been a while since she’d seen him naked, and even that had been in the dark of the bedroom in the lighthouse. Now, in the pale morning light, she’d get to see all of him. And he’d get to see all of her; chunky thighs, cellulite, and the mole on the inside of her right thigh. She didn’t mind him seeing her naked.
Y/N stepped inside, looking at the shower and the small window at the top of the wall, letting some natural sunlight stream into the bathroom. Harry followed after her, closing the door after him and standing there behind her, watching her as she studied the pale yellow sunbeams make it through the window. Slowly, she turned around, looking over her shoulder at Harry and keeping eye contact till they stood face to face. He was still watching her, studying her face and her body, taking his time and clearly trying not to make her feel uncomfortable at him taking her in like this. Reaching for the hem of Harry’s tee shirt, she brought it over her head and let it fall to the floor beside her, feeling an undeniable heat pull towards the bottom of her tummy as Harry’s eyes fell to her exposed breasts. He was paying so close attention to her as if just being here with her, getting a chance to look at her like this, was the greatest privilege one could ask for. Y/N’s body felt hot under his stare and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling a sort of powerful only Harry was able to make erupt inside her.
He tugged his own tee shirt over his head, letting it fall not far from where she’d placed hers, his broad and tanned chest exposed to her one more time. Like he had done to her, she took her time studying him. She took in the hair travelling from his navel to below his underwear, his outlined pecks and the soft tummy underneath them. Seeing him like that, glowing in the light of the sun, had something inside her scream with anticipation. Though nothing was set in stone to happen, she could still feel an instant intense electricity forming in the air between them.
Y/N reached for her knickers and Harry’s lips parted, inhaling sharply as if he’d just been brought back from an extraordinary trance. She pulled them down, revealing herself completely to him and the breath Harry had let enter his body just seconds before, left his lips in a shaky exhale once she stood upright again. His eyes moved over her, finally able to see all of her and in the light of day. Y/N’s heart beat hard inside her chest, looking at Harry look at her, feeling every emotion she held for him all at once. Once their eyes met, she let hers fall to his usual denim shorts, then meet his eyes again.
He understood right away, reaching for the button and the zipper, taking both his shorts and boxers off in one go. Y/N tried not to get visibly excited at the sight, but she could already see the hint of arousal on Harry, something that made the heat inside her own body intensify. Their eyes met again, and though she would’ve usually seen a slight blush across Harry’s cheeks, it wasn’t there just then. No, he seemed confident enough, ready enough, content enough not to feel embarrassed about anything.
She took a single step back before turning around, drawing the frosted shower door aside so she could step inside. Turning on the water, Y/N squealed a little as cold water came pouring down over her at first, taking a huge step to the other side of the shower so the water wouldn’t hit her. She was now standing in the open doorway into the shower, looking out at Harry who was smiling, chuckling some to herself at her instant reaction to the water. She wrinkled her nose at him before reaching her hand out, feeling at the water to see if it was a comfortable enough temperature now. When it was, she walked back over, standing under the shower head as she felt footsteps behind her on the shower floor, then the door sliding shut.
She turned around when she was fully wet, looking over at Harry as he just stood there, watching her intently. Biting her lip, she stepped aside, letting him slide past her and into the stream of the shower. She took his place, watching Harry now as he let the water run over him, a content sigh leaving his lips as if this was something he had really needed. Standing there, she wanted to reach forward and touch him. His back muscles, plump arse, and the scar on the back of his thigh. It wasn’t big, but it looked to have happened a long time ago. Maybe when he was little, having fallen off his bike or done something stupid kids often did while playing.
Harry picked up the shampoo bottle, letting her slide past him again to shampoo her hair. She waited for him to hand it over to her, but instead of putting the bottle back in her hand, Harry opened the shampoo and then put the bottle on the small sill beside the window. The small of fresh papaya wafted through the air, and a second later, she felt fingers in her hair and a hot sensation ran down her spine, resting at her core but heating up her entire body. She closed her eyes, letting the feeling of Harry take over each one of her senses. Humming contentedly, she let Harry massage her scalp, feeling herself relax completely for the first time in a long while. He pressed against her backside, not at all shy now that she felt him against her bum, harder than he had been when they undressed before one another. She felt like falling to the floor, the intensity of anything but the moment right now dissipating completely.
Something soft was pressed against her shoulder, then a bit further up towards her neck. Harry’s tender kisses sent shocks of great pleasure throughout her body, making it once again hard to remain standing. She suddenly heard some coughing and a small “ew”, and when she turned around, Harry was grimacing.
“Shampoo,” he explained, making Y/N laugh.
“You didn’t have to lick the shampoo.”
“It’s all over you now, innit?” he said, making both of them laugh again. “Was trying to be proper romantic, but fucked myself over with that one.”
“Nah, I liked it.”
“That I ate shampoo?”
She laughed. “Well, you didn’t eat it. At least not on purpose.”
He chuckled. “Real papaya tastes better than shampoo papaya. I’m a survivor of the papaya shampoo-“
“-Oh, don’t be dramatic.” She turned around, smiling over at him. “It was brave of you to go through all that for a shoulder kiss.”
“I’d go through a lot more than just eating shampoo to give you another shoulder kiss.”
Y/N laughed, getting the conditioner. She was about to put some in her hand when Harry took it from her. He shook his head, and she pretended to roll her eyes, even though she actually thoroughly enjoyed how much he wanted to take care of her. He ran his hands through her hair, making sure not to let any conditioner touch her scalp. While doing this, he planted more kisses along her jaw, even daring to kiss her neck and jawline, now not at all intimidated by the shampoo. There was simply no way not to smile and feel her entire body buzz with adoration as Harry did this.
When he stopped, he put his hands under the stream to get all the shampoo and conditioner off. Though she usually let the shampoo and conditioner stay in her hair a bit, she let it be this time around. Stepping under the stream from the shower head, she closed her eyes and rinsed her hair thoroughly. She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes. She knew Harry was watching her and she loved that he was. The steam from the shower along with Harry’s not-so-subtly studying every single part of her naked body, made her hotter than she’d been in a while.
It happened so suddenly it made her gasp. Once she opened her eyes to look at him again, her hair free of shampoo and conditioner, Harry took the step toward her. He grabbed the back of her neck and brought her to him, kissing her fiercely. Though it had startled her at first, she melted into the kiss right away. Though they had kissed only last night, it still felt like an eternity ago, and she had missed him like this. She missed kissing him and knowing that it would lead somewhere fantastic, just like last night’s kiss had felt. Maybe that one had been even more intense than this one because it held the promise of a future, but this kiss felt very similar. This one was purposeful. They both knew there was a future now, but they had no idea where it’d go, only that in this very moment, no matter what, they wanted to spend this one moment with each other. And they wanted to take great advantage of that.
Harry pressed her against the wall, moaning into her as she gripped his back, bringing her closer to him. She tilted his head and kissed him harder, something that had a short breath leaving his nose, a slight twitch against Y/N’s core and lower belly.
“Open up for me,” she whispered against him and he did as she said without hesitation. Their tongues found one another instantly and fantastic bliss ran through Y/N’s body to the point where she completely forgot where she was. The kisses grew more frantic, wetter, deeper. She pulled away at one point, taking a grip of his hair, tilting his head so it’d fit better against hers, before she kissed him again. Harry smiled against her lips at that, getting harder against her as she took control of him, making him listen to her and what she wanted. The mere fact that this was turning him on turned Y/N on, and she continued to take the dominant role. Something both of them loved.
She lifted her leg and Harry took a grip of her knee, bringing it up to his hip. He instantly leaned more into her, his erection against her centre, making her grip on his hair tighten. Slowly, making a tingle of excitement run through her veins, Harry grinded against her. She couldn’t help her moan, begging him to do it again as she squeezed his shoulder. He did, letting a small whimper pass from his lips and into her mouth, desperate for an actual feel of her. Y/N adjusted her hips some, making it so that when Harry grinded against her hungrily the third time, a shot of pleasure erupted from her clit.
“Oh, my God,” she said, having missed the effect Harry had on her body like this.
He kissed along her neck, sucking lightly at the tip of her jaw. “You’re so hot.”
She smiled, closing her eyes as Harry kissed her collarbone. “It’s all you, you make me act like this.”
Harry stopped right above her heart, kissing her breast. “Don’t give me that sort of credit.”
She giggled. “Then what should I say?”
Harry kissed along her neck again, a thrill of ecstasy shooting straight for the spot between Y/N’s legs. “I’m not one to tell you, am I?”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at Harry and waiting for him to reach her shoulder before she uttered, “No, you’re not.”
She could tell Harry loved that, gripping her knee harder as he rested his forehead against hers. “Are you wet for me like I’m hard for you?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why don’t you find out?”
Harry bit his bottom lip at that, she could feel his heart beating hard against his chest and against hers. She swore they beat to the same rhythm. He reached down between them, making sure to hold their eye contact as he reached for her centre, eyes hooded with lust. Once his middle and ring finger came into contact with her wetness, he let out a strangled moan. He slid his fingers over her, pushing them slowly into her and out again, making the ache of her core hurt with need. The teasing would surely kill her at one point.
“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he mumbled. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”
“Taste me.”
Harry’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, her commands making every single hair on his body stand on end in excitement. Running his fingers over her again, he pushed them into her once more, pulling them out to circle her clit. She moaned, not able to help herself, and the sound of her pleasure brought Harry his, moaning along with her. He brought his fingers up, placing them inside his mouth and keeping eye contact with Y/N as he wrapped his lips around his fingers, sucking off her juices. Finding this so hot her entire body began to ache for him, Y/N brought him to her again, kissing him hard. Once again, they lost themselves in each other’s lips, tongues, and the taste. Y/N assumed she was tasting herself on him, but it soon disappeared as the kiss deepened, becoming hungrier than any of the other kisses.
“Get a condom,” she said at last, and in his haste to do just that, Harry almost slipped on the slippery shower floor. Y/N laughed, holding onto her stomach as Harry’s life flashed before his eyes, getting out of the shower to rummage through his bathroom drawer for his condoms. He was back not long after, shielding his covered-up cock from the water as he made his way over to her, putting the lube on the windowsill.
“Think my near death is funny, do you?”
“Hilarious.”
Harry laughed at that, pressing his forehead against hers again as he got a hold of her leg, bringing it up to his hip again.
Harry’s other hand ran from her collarbone, over her chest, and down to her centre, looking into her eyes the entire time. He helped angle her right, licking his lips before meeting her eyes again, resting his forehead once again against hers. They looked down as Harry positioned himself at her opening, Y/N averting her eyes after a little while just so she could look at him when they joined together again. He glanced up at her again as well, holding onto his shaft till most of him was inside her, then gripping her hips hard. They both moaned, unable to say another word as a heavenly feeling swept over them.
A gentleness, vulnerability, warmth lingered there between them as Harry moved in and out of her at a slow pace, it was a sort of feeling that one couldn’t properly speak of, it was too powerful for that. What transpired between them as Harry pounded into her, made her arch her back, was so much more than anything that had ever existed before this. There was an emotion yet to be described, yet to be given a word, that they created as they stood there in that shower, the lazy sunbeams shining in on them and the hot shower pouring down Harry’s back. Y/N hummed in contentment as Harry’s hips met hers, loving the feeling of him there, colliding with her once again.
“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, keeping his eyes on Y/N at all times. He brought her knee further up his hips, making it easier for him to fuck her right, and while doing that, spreading her wider for him as well. At this, she moaned loudly, digging her nails into the skin of his back. With that, Harry picked up the pace a little more, their wet bodies colliding in a rough yet delicious rhythm that had the both of them gasping for breath.
Y/N felt something inside her core, something that was tensing up and making it harder for her to concentrate on much else besides the heat of it and Harry in front of her. Harry continued to rock into her, their bodies crashing hard and loud. The sound of flesh against flesh, their rapid breathing, and the occasional moan was their entire universe in those blissful minutes.
His grip on her tightened, and Y/N couldn’t help herself, letting go of a loud cry of Harry’s name, the quick strokes bringing her closer to her orgasm dangerously fast. She gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, making Harry moan loudly against her, the sort that had him gasping afterwards.
Y/N wondered how she had ever thought that Harry’s feelings for her hadn’t been genuine. She wondered how she had not seen it sooner. Not only how Harry felt for her, but how she felt for him as well. It had taken her so long just to realise that the reason why she was so protective of him, why she wanted to be near him, and why she always felt like her breath got clogged somewhere in her throat when she saw him, was because she was falling in love with him. It had crept up on her so slowly, so powerfully, that she hadn’t realised it till it was too late. But regardless, Y/N was sure that even if she had recognised that she was falling in love with Harry while it was actually happening versus how she realised after it had all happened, she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was where she was supposed to be. Where the kindness she had sent out into the universe had brought her; where destiny had always envisioned her. With Harry. In St Ives.
She leaned forward, softly biting onto his bottom lip and it was like seeing his pupils dilate.
“Fuck me,” he mumbled, making Y/N grin.
She arched her back, the tenseness in her core tightening. The edges of her vision blurred as she watched Harry. As they came together, as they looked into each other’s eyes, Y/N knew that nothing would be better than this. She felt Harry everywhere. Felt him, smelled him, tasted him, heard him. He was everywhere all at once, and it was exactly as Y/N wanted it. She wanted him to leave more pieces of himself inside her, feel him shape her into a better version of herself, help her along the path to becoming the person she was supposed to be. There was a piece of him in each one of her molecules, and though she was sure this was an aspect of her life that would never truly dissipate, she knew Harry would always be with her. Wherever she went, whoever she was with, he had helped her on her way to discover herself, and for that she would always be grateful.
They kissed one another one more time, Y/N moaning against him as he thrust into her, this one rougher than all the ones before. Breaking away, they looked into each other’s eyes as she dug her nails into his scalp and shoulder. She came. The tenseness in her core erupted and she felt the effect like an earthquake all over her body. She was gasping, moaning, and looking into his eyes as pure bliss washed over her. The leg Harry was holding shook and it was a wonder the other one hadn’t given out from under her. She held onto him as she came down, smiling at him as if she couldn’t believe they’d just done that.
Y/N wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders, holding onto him as he pounded into her, the veins in his neck popping out. She knew he was close, saw it and felt it. As his pace picked up some more, though she was still incredibly sensitive, Y/N felt a familiar burn herself. This had never happened before, she usually needed some time to gather herself and to not be as sensitive down there before she could go for a round two, but something about today was different. She gasped as Harry hit a particular spot and he looked into her eyes, refusing to keep them close as he had that last minute.
“Harry,” she moaned, making him grab her boob, squeezing it seductively.
Suddenly, there was a sound coming from outside. The two of them had been too caught up in one another and their little moment that they hadn’t heard the approaching car. Though Y/N quickly realised what was happening, Harry continued to fuck her, oblivious until a car door closed with a bang outside in the courtyard. He removed his face from where he had rested his forehead against hers, trying to peek out of the foggy window.
“Dax,” Harry said. “Think the rest as well.”
“Everyone’s here?!” Y/N hissed. “Everyone’s outside?!”
“Looks like it,” Harry said, turning back to her. “Just-“ He put one hand over her mouth. “Be quiet.”
“I’m not the one that needs to be quiet,” she said against his palm, but her voice was muffled by him covering her mouth. “You’re loud.”
“I’m not bloody loud, what’re you talking about?” Harry furrowed his brows.
Y/N chuckled. “Who cares? Just get a move on so we can go out there.”
Harry smiled and pressed his forehead against hers again, gripping her thigh harder as he began to make as small and quick movements as possible, trying not to make any noise. His pace, his flow, felt heavenly. Her eyes fluttered shut, digging her nails into Harry’s back. By the looks of it, this exact angle and tempo was doing it for Harry as well. He looked at her as he neared his climax, doing as Y/N said and trying to keep his mouth shut and moans to a minimum. She could tell he was struggling, and she squeezed his shoulder in encouragement as he continued to barely make any noise.
“Harry?!” Dax called from the front door, walking into the cottage. More footsteps sounded behind him and Harry stopped abruptly, looking over at the door through the blurry glass of the shower door. “Mate, where are you?”
Harry and Y/N looked at one another, eyes wide as they listened for more movement outside.
“Found him, Dax, Jo?” Fatima called from outside, her footsteps along with, what Y/N could only assume, Amir and Ellie nearing the cottage.
“No, he’s not here,” Jo answered.
“Where the fuck could he have gone? Not like he’s supposed to be anywhere else, is it?” Dax asked no one in particular. “He wasn’t in the lighthouse either?”
“No, but he just did his 9am,” Amir answered.
“What the fuck, then,” Dax said. The door into the bathroom burst open and Y/N tried not to scream. Harry pressed his body against Y/N’s so Dax wouldn’t see any of her. “Haz-“ Everything was disturbingly silent for a single second before Dax realised what he must be looking at. “OH!”
“A bit preoccupied at the moment, Dax!” Harry shouted out at his best mate where he still stood in the bathroom doorway.
“Right! Sorry!” Dax slammed the bathroom door shut. Harry and Y/N looked at one another, both giggling and doing their best not to be heard by the others outside. “We’ll just fuck off outside then!”
There was a slight silence outside in the cottage till Ellie finally asked, “What’s going on?”
“Harry and Y/N,” Dax explained. “They’re in the shower.”
“What?!” exclaimed Fatima.
“In the shower, or in the shower shower?” Amir asked, it sounded like he was wiggling his eyebrows along with his question.
“Mate. No,” Jo said.
“Would you lot mind buggering off for a bit?!” Harry shouted, making a flurry of footsteps move hastily towards the front door. They could all be heard outside, chatting excitedly and fast. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, making Y/N laugh.
“Right,” Harry said, bringing her leg higher up as to get better access. She gasped. “Where were we?”
She bit her lips, grinning at him. Harry started at the same pace as before, fucking her quickly and with small movements as not to be heard, not sure how well the sound of their wet bodies slamming together would carry. Y/N reached for the lube, making Harry let out a small breath as if he had completely forgotten about it, but appreciated that Y/N had. Once again, she had to angle herself so best to access his bum, and when she did, she slid her fingers slowly into him.
“Fuck,” Harry hissed.
He continued with his small and quick movements as to make it easier for Y/N to keep her fingers in. She curled them slightly upward, watching as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Y/N,” he moaned, voice trembling slightly. She kept her fingers like that, feeling that, with each of Harry’s movements, he ignited the fire inside, making her heat up all over again. Harry’s whimpers got more frequent and desperate, not fully knowing what to do with himself as his orgasm got closer and closer.
“Come on, baby,” she mumbled, and that was all it took. Her calling him that. Finally, Harry was brought towards climax. He came looking into Y/N’s eyes, everyone and everything else completely forgotten as he filled the condom, moaning her name and gripping her body harder. She had felt the oncoming second orgasm herself, and though she hadn’t thought Harry would’ve noticed her like that, he had.
“I can go down on you,” he offered, pulling himself out of her. “We can-“
“-No,” Y/N laughed. “They’re waiting for you.”
“For us,” Harry corrected her, getting up as he had hunched down, ready to make her come a second time. “They’re waiting for us.”
Y/N smiled at him, stroking his cheek as he stood before her. He leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips as they relished in the last of their moment together.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” he said against her lips, making Y/N’s tummy, which was already filled with butterflies, tickle with anticipation.
“I’ll just wash up.”
“Alright, I’ll wait.”
Harry dried himself off as quickly as possible, running out into the living room to get a new pair of boxers and jeans along with Y/N’s dress and jumper. He put on his underwear and jeans, then picked up the tee shirt Y/N had been wearing the bed the night before, making a note to sniff it in front of Y/N just so he could watch her laugh at him. She got dressed as well, suddenly filled with dread for what was waiting for them outside. Once in the foyer, Harry pulled her closer, kissing her one more time, smiling against her. She giggled, kissing him again before they both turned to the door and walked outside.
Everyone was sat on the grass beside the lighthouse, not too close to the cliff, but close enough so that the wind was rather harsh. As Harry and Y/N approached, Fatima looked over her shoulder, smiling at them before she alerted the others, making them all stand up. Y/N felt a tenseness in her chest, terrified of what would happen the second they started chatting. She hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on Dax’s face, or how hurt Fatima had been, or how Jo looked between Harry and Y/N, refusing to believe what they were saying was true.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Harry asked once they were close enough to talk.
Amir’s eyes fell on Y/N, giving her a smile before he looked at Harry. Jo opened their mouth, crossing their arms over their chest. “Think you got some explaining to do. Both of you.”
Harry looked at Y/N who glanced back at him, but she quickly stared at the others, feeling her hands go all clammy.
“Well,” Harry started, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s probably what you think.”
“What’s that?” asked Dax.
“I’m in love with Y/N,” Harry said, as if it was the simplest and most profound fact of the world. “And she’s in love with me.”
Dax looked between them, studying each of their faces. “Alright,” he said, pausing for two seconds. “Why bother lying, then?”
“That’s… That’s not a lie.”
“I didn’t mean lie about that, why did you have to lie about being a couple when you were on your way to become one in the first place?”
Harry furrowed his brows. “It’s not that simple, though. We didn’t know we’d end up caring for one another like that when we first met.”
“Dax,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at him. “I know you’re hurt Harry lied to you-“
“-Nah, I’m not hurt. I’m fuming.”
Harry let out a huff. “Thought you were over it, mate.”
“But I’m not.” Dax looked Harry dead in the eyes. “Look, I’m happy for you. Genuinely, I am. You more than anyone else deserve to find love, especially when that someone you fall in love with is Y/N, yeah? But…” Dax trailed off, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still hurt that my best friend lied to me. I tell you everything, Haz.”
“I wanted to tell you, Dax. Really.”
“But?”
“But you love to gossip, mate! You’re just like your mum!”
“I wouldn’t have told people about this, Harry.”
Harry sighed. “Listen, be mad, yeah? Take your time to be mad. I’m sorry.” He looked at all his other friends as well. Amir, Fatima, Jo, Ellie. “I’m sorry for lying about this. It was a stupid thing to lie about, but I was desperate and before either of us really knew what was going on, we were just fake dating.”
Ellie nodded along, smiling a little at both Y/N and Harry’s wet hairs. “But you’re not fake dating anymore… right?”
Harry smiled as well, looking at Y/N. “No.”
“Aww, you two!” Fatima exclaimed.
“We haven’t discussed it yet, she told me yesterday that she won’t leave St Ives, so…” Harry shrugged, holding up his hand to stop Fatima, Amir, Ellie and Jo from celebrating. “It’s not official.”
“But you fancy each other, yeah?” Amir grinned. “That’s enough, innit?”
“So it’s really not fake this time?” Dax asked, looking at Harry as he spoke. “You’re genuinely in love?”
“Mate,” Harry said, a red colour crossing his cheekbones. “You just saw us shagging in the shower.”
Jo howled with laughter and Ellie giggled, looking over at Fatima who was having trouble holding Amir up as he was pretending to faint from shock. Even Dax had trouble not laughing at that, a single chuckle escaping his lips as he studied Y/N and Harry who were both flustered, hair still a mess from just having gotten out of the shower. Harry took a step closer to Y/N, nudging her with his hips. Once their eyes met, Y/N was taken back to their shared moment in the shower, blushing furiously again.
“Alright,” Dax said, smiling at them. “I guess I was just offended.”
“Don’t make this about yourself, bruv,” Amir said, walking over to stand between Y/N and Harry, flinging his arms over their shoulders. “Everything’s back to normal, innit?”
“Well, a new normal,” Harry pointed out. “We still have to figure out a lot of things.”
“Ah, well, that’ll come easy,” Amir smiled. “Bottom line, for us, nothing’s really gonna change. We always thought you were together, and now you’re actually together.”
Y/N looked over at Fatima who shrugged, clearly agreeing with her cousin.
Amir patted them each on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “We came here to check if Harry was alright. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, mate.”
“No, I’ve…” Harry’s eyes flickered over to Y/N before he met Amir’s eyes again. “Been a bit… well, sad.”
“That’s okay,” Amir said. “You feeling better now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry smiled, looking at Y/N again. “Loads.”
“Wicked.” Amir gave Harry a pat on the back. “Pub, anyone?”
“It’s not even noon,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at Amir.
“Who cares? Everyone’s about to go back to their everyday lives, think we should just spend a day doing nothing in particular, don’t you?” Amir looked around the ground with his mouth agape in anticipation.
“Actually,” Harry said, looking apologetically at Amir. “Y/N and I gotta go to the farm real quick.”
Amir’s face fell. “Why?”
“We just need to talk to Jessa, Gracie, lolo, and uncle Timmy. You know…” Harry motioned with his arms before him. “About what Y/N and I did.”
“Ahh!” Amir gave Harry’s back a pat, nodding his head. “Yeah, alright.”
Y/N’s heart fell again. She hadn’t even thought of that. They would have to face Jessa and Grace as well, and apologise for what they had done. Y/N wouldn’t be mad at Jessa if she didn’t forgive her or Harry for this. After all, they had lied to her all summer, not thinking that they’d end up actually falling in love with one another in the end.
“You’ll pop by later, then? Balcony?” Dax asked, Harry nodding as an answer that they would. “Wicked! See you in an hour or summat then.”
Y/N and Harry watched as the others made their way over to Dax’s car, Amir jumping onto Jo’s back and Ellie laughing her ass off when Jo almost face-planted from the unexpected impact. Harry walked over to Y/N, raising his eyebrows slowly as if to ask
Hadn’t been there since everything had happened. This was where her family had shown up and where Dominic had dragged Harry to the ground. The thought made her sick. Her family had all been here and she had let them treat Harry like that. Taking a deep breath, Y/N just looked at the farm, feeling as if she should just turn back around and walk away from it all. She didn’t deserve to be close to Jessa, or Grace, or lolo-
“Flower?”
She looked at Harry who was watching her with big eyes.
“You alright?”
“No. Not really, no.”
Harry nodded slightly. “Yeah, it’s… I mean, it’s gonna be alright. I know it is. But Jessa… Blimey, I hate disappointing Jessa.”
“Has she given you a hard time before for disappointing her?”
“Yeah, and it was just as you can expected it to,” Harry chuckled. “She would give me the cold shoulder and make me feel bad till I finally gave in and apologised.”
“Oh, my word, Harry, we should’ve done this sooner-“
“-We weren’t on speaking terms then, were we?” Harry reasoned. “We have spent days trying to talk, and now we have. We’ve always needed to do this together. Don’t think it would’ve been completely alright till you came with to apologise as well, Jessa wouldn’t think so.”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I-“
“-Harry?”
They both turned to look at Jessa as she walked out of the hen house, lolo’s straw hat on her head and walking slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
“Y/N?”
Hearing Jessa say her name was surreal, especially after everything. She didn’t sound mad; she didn’t sound disappointed. In fact, she just sounded confused, as if the sight before her was the most peculiar yet familiar thing in the world. Not wanting to postpone this any longer, Y/N started walking towards the farm, Harry following close behind her. As they walked through the gate, Jessa stopped walking, holding onto her basket filled with eggs as she watched them move to her. The door to the main house opened, Grace and lolo along with Tim stood there, eyes on Harry and Y/N as they stopped in front of Jessa. They were sure the others could hear them, Grace even walked a little closer as if she wanted to run to Harry and Y/N, but stopped herself as she noticed they were directing all their attention at Jessa.
“How are you feeling?” Jessa asked Harry, eyes scanning him from head to toe. “Not had any other hypo situations?”
“No,” Harry answered quickly. “No, I’ve been alright.”
Jessa nodded, eyes falling on Y/N. “They’ve gone back to Hampshire?”
Jessa didn’t have to say who she was talking about for Y/N to understand completely. The chat she had with Jessa Tuesday the week before still fresh in her mind. Y/N nodded as an answer to Jessa’s question. “They left a few days ago.”
“Good,” Jessa answered curtly. “Didn’t like them. Quite rude of them to just show up to a party like that unannounced.”
“Yeah, they’ve never much considered other people’s feelings.”
A small smile flickered over Jessa’s lips. “No, I could tell.”
Y/N smiled back a little, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. She could tell he was about to speak, but she beat him to it, whipping her head in Jessa’s direction again. “We’re so sorry.” She glanced at Grace, lolo, and Tim as well. “So sorry.”
Harry looked away from Y/N at the others. “It’s all my fault.”
“Harry-“
“-No, Y/N, it is.” Harry let out a huge sigh, meeting Jessa’s eyes. “I’m sorry, nanay. I’ve always told you everything. Always. But you were fussing so much about how I was lonely at Clodgy, something I wasn’t. I was perfectly okay up there by myself, I like my own company. Ever since Emilia… well, I like being alone. But… But…” Harry stopped, growing red in the cheeks. “You know… I thought if I pretended to have a girlfriend, you’d get off my back a bit.” He let out a chuckle. “I should’ve known better, though. You just want what’s best for me, so you want to know every detail of everything.”
Jessa was eerily silent, not moving an inch.
“And I know it was a fucking daft move, alright? Well out of line for me to lie about something like that, a-and… and…” Harry looked down at Y/N. “And especially stupid of me to drag Y/N into it. She had no idea what she did when she went along to pretend to be my girlfriend on Fore Street that day.”
“Hang on,” Grace said, frowning. “We met Y/N on Fore Street.”
“Yeah, that was the first time I met Y/N myself.”
“That same day?” Tim asked.
“Yes.”
“And you just asked someone to me your fake girlfriend to further your lie?” Tim still sounded confused. Y/N’s palms were getting clammy.
“Y-Yes.” Harry nodded his head. “It’s entirely my fault.”
“Harry, no.” Y/N looked up at him. “I helped.”
“It wasn’t your idea, was it?”
Y/N was about to protest, said that it didn’t matter, but Harry went on.
“I went to the Inn to tell Y/N not to worry about this fake relationship of ours, ‘cause… I couldn’t keep it from you, Jessa. I couldn’t lie to you like that.” Harry sighed again. “But you had already told everyone, so we would’ve looked well stupid to just tell everyone that we lied, it wasn’t true, we weren’t a couple.”
“As opposed to everyone finding out at the party last Friday that it had been fake all this time?” Jessa asked, making both Harry and Y/N shut up.
A small silence stretched out then, when the only sound they heard was the wind blowing through the trees around them and the hens in the hen house. Y/N looked around at everyone before her, trying to see all of their reactions. No one spoke for what felt like a century, and it was hard to see what any of them thoughts because panic was starting to rise within Y/N. Did they all hate her? No one was saying anything, did they really detest her? What her and Harry had done, they’d never forgive them, would they? Y/N felt lightheaded, sure that she had never been anticipating an answer from someone as much as she was anticipating these people before her.
Suddenly, Jessa took a small step forward, her head cocked and eyes flicking between Y/N and Harry. She looked thoughtful, though no anger could be detected on her face.
“You know,” Jessa started, clutching the egg basket a little closer to her. “I never once doubted you two weren’t an item. Not once.”
Harry’s cheeks got redder, eyes falling to the ground.
“But I don’t think that’s something to be embarrassed about, Harry,” Jessa said, voice very soft all of a sudden and Y/N felt like crying. “I could tell there was something between you two that I hadn’t seen between you and Emilia, Harry. After Emilia left,” Jessa said, looking at Y/N now. “Harry was very sad at first, but I had never seen him as happy as that time after all that mourning. He was so, so happy. Just as he deserved. Wasn’t easy, losing his father… or my husband, like that.”
Y/N nodded, understanding that it must’ve been a grief unlike anything anyone would ever have the capability to explain.
“But the second you came into his life - when you arrived in St Ives, to be more specific, ‘cause you were kind of there while Harry lied about having a girlfriend – but when you came into his life… something in him shifted. He was still happy, still himself, but it comes easier to him now to articulate himself. To find his words. He had huge trouble with that before. Always had. Words, new beginnings, new opportunities, it’s all come easier to him since you came into his life. And that-“ Jessa pointed her finger at Harry’s chest as she met his eyes again. “-That is why I’m not mad now.”
Harry blinked.
“Whatever is going on between you two, it’s not fake. If you’re saying that, if you’ve ever said that or believed that, you’ve lied to yourselves, not to anyone else,” Jessa said. “Yes, you’ve lied to us about being in a relationship. Yes, it was a tragic thing to do.”
Harry winced at her words, nodding his head. Y/N knew she must’ve had the same reaction, but she didn’t know or care what she looked like just then. All she cared about was Jessa, Grace, lolo, and Tim.
“But,” Jessa continued. “I would’ve been mad if you two weren’t in love at all. I’m disappointed it took you two this long to admit it, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re both as oblivious as each other.” She let out a sigh. “You’re forgiven.” She met Y/N’s eyes, smiling. “Both of you.”
Y/N bit her lip as it started to tremble, everything she had felt these last few minutes finally leaving her. Relief and peace finally flooded through her veins.
“I meant what I said that day, Y/N,” Jessa said, taking Y/N’s hand with her free one. “You are loved unconditionally here, with us.”
Y/N nodded her head, squeezing Jessa’s hand.
“Right,” Jessa grinned, looking up at Harry. “Free for a cuppa, my lovelies?”
“No, uhm…” Harry ran a hand through his hair, smiling down at Jessa. “We’re going to the pub with the gang. Getting a quick pint in before summer ends.”
“How nice,” Jessa said. “You two will pop by tomorrow then?”
“Yes,” Y/N answered, and Jessa’s smile widened. The older woman took a few steps toward Y/N, wrapping her arm around her in a hug. Y/N hugged her back, forcing back the tears she felt pressing on.
“We’ll see you then,” Jessa said, going in to hug Harry next.
“See you!” Grace grinned as she ran over, arms outstretched for Y/N. Y/N giggled, hoping no one heard her strangled sob. She bent down, hugging Grace to her, closing her eyes as Grace’s hold on Y/N tightened. Lolo and Tim came over as well, both smiling at Y/N and giving her hugs, patting and stroking her back, as if they both knew how much she needed it. Harry and Y/N said the last few goodbyes to their family before they walked over to Harry’s van, sitting back there in silence.
Harry suddenly turned to look at Y/N, leaning over to take her face in his hands so roughly and unexpectedly that Y/N squealed. He kissed her firmly on the lips, leaving small pecks all over her face as a grin erupted across his lips. Y/N laughed, holding onto his wrists and closing her eyes until he stopped. All the way to The Balcony Bar and Kitchen, Harry held onto Y/N’s hand, clutching onto it between changing gears, never once letting go voluntarily. Y/N thought this was quite funny, but she didn’t say this. She appreciated how he wanted to stay close to her all he could, whenever he could, just as he had said last night at 3am.
The Balcony Bar and Kitchen was an old pub, but at the far end of the pub, the entire wall facing the beach was made out of tall windows. Y/N could make out their little gang sitting at one of the tables, talking merrily amongst themselves as her and Harry strolled up to the bar.
“What do you fancy?” Harry asked her, standing so close that their sides were flush against one another. Y/N suddenly wanted to be back in the Clodgy cottage again so Harry could make up for before, as he had promised her he would once they were back there later. A chill went up her spine and she smiled, loving the fact that she could stand there and imagine a future, no matter how near or far away it was, where Harry was present.
“Whatever you’re having,” Y/N said simply.
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Really sure?”
“Really, really sure, in fact.”
Harry chuckled, ordering two pints from the bartender who had come up to them just then.
“Y/N.”
Once again, Y/N felt like she could’ve done without hearing that voice again. She thought she would’ve heard it for the last time at the end of summer party, but she guessed she hadn’t been that lucky. Looking to her right, she saw Emilia standing there. Harry tensed to her left, watching as the bartender made them their pints.
“Could we have a chat?” Emilia asked, taking Y/N completely off guard. It took her a few tries to get the correct words out, but Y/N managed to utter a quick, “Yeah,” to which Emilia smiled gratefully.
“I’ll take these to our table,” Harry said to Y/N, giving Emilia a smile before he walked back over to their little group by the window.
Emilia inhaled slowly, looking down at the bar counter before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “It’s been a weird summer, hasn’t it?”
Y/N was still not sure what was going on or why Emilia was trying to make small talk. If she wanted to say something to Y/N, then she should just say it right away. Y/N had people she’d rather be with.
Emilia must’ve sensed Y/N’s confusion at what was going on, so she sighed and turned to look at Y/N fully. “I just wanna talk about everything. I could tell there was a bit of tension between us at the end of summer party.”
Y/N rested her elbow on the counter beside her. “Yeah, there was.”
“I just wanted to talk that out, ‘cause I don’t know what you think, but it’s a bit stupid to have gotten off on the wrong foot like this when we barely know each other, isn’t it?”
Y/N took a moment to study Emilia, trying to decipher if the words she had just spoken were genuine. “Yeah.”
“I came back from Munich and found out that Harry had a girlfriend, and I was delighted. He-“
“-You were?” Y/N asked.
“Yes, of course,” Emilia answered. “Harry deserves to be happy.”
Y/N tried not to let it show on her face that she was shocked by this news. “He does.”
“I was told he had a girlfriend, and the second we met, I just felt like you didn’t like me.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Was a bit hard to when you used the power you know you have over Harry to show me that you still have the ability to make him do anything you want. And I think you got the idea that I ‘didn’t like you’ when I told Harry I felt uncomfortable with this, and he stopped giving you attention.”
Emilia fell quiet.
“Am I right?”
“You don’t know what happened between us, Harry and I.”
“I do, in fact. Harry’s told me.”
Emilia’s mouth was a thin line now. “Alright. My boyfriend of one year back in Munich broke up with me and I was sad about it. It was wrong of me to seek comfort in Harry, I’m sorry.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows some. “So… my theory’s correct? You wanted to know that you still exerted some dominance over Harry, even after all those years, and have him crawl back to you so you’d feel… what, better about yourself after being broken up with? Did you want someone to make you feel better?”
“I’m aware it was wrong of me, okay-“
“-No, I don’t think you get how fucking disgusting that is.”
Emilia turned silent again, blinking at Y/N.
“You didn’t even talk to him after you left. His dad died and his girlfriend broke up with him, he was left completely broken ‘cause of you, but he’s too good to say any of this to your face,” Y/N said, taking a small step forward.
“I left because of my mental health.”
“And that’s valid, but you should also know that by doing that, you left a hole in Harry that it took a while for him to fill up himself. You don’t get to walk in and out of someone’s life whenever it suits you, especially when they’re doing so much better now than they ever did with you there.”
Emilia looked away.
“It might feel like it, but you’re not the only person in the world that possesses feelings. We all do. The way you keep treating others and neglecting the fact that your actions will stay with them forever, is a dangerous sort of ignorance that I suggest you do something about.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t want to. I’ve heard enough from everyone else.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not my decision to make, but in my opinion, you should think twice before you try and make a place for yourself in Harry’s life again. His friends and family don’t really have a great picture of you any longer.”
Emilia sighed, meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “You know, I get where you’re coming from.”
It was Y/N’s turn to be silent now.
“You want to protect Harry, make sure nothing happens to him, and I know I hurt him bad, so naturally you don’t want me in his life. But, as you said, that’s his call,” Emilia said. “I shouldn’t have gone after Harry when I came back from Munich, it was stupid of me, especially considering how happy he looked with you. Granted, it was all fake, but I know Harry and I could tell he fancied the pants off you.”
Y/N gave Emilia a small smile, trying to make some sort of peace.
“I won’t stand in the way of you two.”
“I appreciate that. I’m sure Harry does as well.”
Emilia nodded, giving Y/N a smile.
“Y/N!” Fatima called from where she sat with all the others. When Y/N looked in their direction, she simply could not help her smile. They were all chatting amongst themselves, laughing at something, and Fatima and Harry were looking her way, beckoning her over.
“Hope you have a good day, Emilia,” Y/N said-
“You too, Y/N.”
And with that, Y/N walked back over to her friends. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her to him where he stood at the edge of the table, everyone else perched on bar stools around the tall table. Fatima clinked her glass against Y/N’s, Jo grinned in Y/N’s direction, while Ellie, Amir and Dax were in an animated discussion about something Y/N didn’t catch. Harry leaned down, pressing a small peck to Y/N’s temple, and the grin that spread out across Y/N’s smile almost hurt. A sort of restless anticipation mingled with such utter contentment that it was hard for her to think she’d ever lived, breathed, loved, anywhere but right there in St Ives.
Tumblr media
Thursday, 10 September
The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give back to her in some other form. And now, after a summer randomly spent in Cornwall, she had found it in herself to believe in destiny as well.
She believed that there was a place where she belonged. People she was supposed to meet, and places she was supposed to see. These people, places, and feelings would help you along the road to self-realisation. They would shape her and make everything make sense, would make all the suffering and the struggles she had faced up until then worth it in a way. Each one of the people Y/N had met in St Ives had had that effect on her. They had made her realise things about herself and her life that she would never have figured out without them. She took that summer with her for the rest of her life; letting the sun beams of St Ives shine through in her smile, the goodness of the locals reflect in her own acts of kindness, the calming feeling of walking along the sand of Porthminster Beach show in her warmness and relaxing effect on the people around her.
Y/N had no idea when she walked out of the door of the building in Bethnal Green, London that September 10th that the summer she had just experienced would play that big of a role in shaping the continuation of her entire life. She had no idea that she would receive top marks on her UCAT she took in Bethnal Green, the following day. Nor that she would attend University of Plymouth for the next six years, graduating with a degree in Dentistry. And she had no idea that, even after all those years, she’d still be with the lighthouse keeper of St Ives. Only now that she was done with University, she moved back to her hometown, to her family, friends, and boyfriend, and would live there for the rest of her life.
No, Y/N didn’t know any of that as she walked out after her UCAT on the second Thursday of September that year. She chose not to think too much about her future at that time, realising that whatever would be, would be, and there was nothing she could change about that now.
Harry, who had driven her to London that day, was stood by his car not too far away, looking down at his phone as he replied to a text. She was sure no one had ever stood by their car like this, with no other agenda than to wait for her before this. Then again, Harry would always do stuff like this as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him, expecting nothing in return. Which had come as a shock to Y/N at first, but once she realised she was doing the same thing for the people she loved as well, she understood.
The UCAT had been awful, at least at first. The questions were difficult, she had to rack her brain properly for most of them, and she could swear she had heard someone crying at one point. She had to put a hand on her own cheek to check for tears, scared that it had been her. But then, during the chaos of everything, she remembered what Harry had said to her when they woke up in the Clodgy cottage that same morning, “It’s a beautiful day to do beautiful things,” and her nerves calmed themselves considerably. Because he was right. It was a beautiful day and she would do beautiful things. The thought of getting out of there and to Harry again was enough motivation to get her through the rest of the UCAT.
Upon hearing some footsteps, Harry looked in the direction of where they were coming. He instantly shoved his phone back down into the pockets of his denim jeans, smiling at Y/N as she approached him.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve got a good feeling,” she admitted, walking over to where he was standing. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up. I get the results back in 24 hours.”
Harry huffed, sliding his thumb reassuringly over her cheek. “You know what I think?”
“Think I already do.”
“You’ll do amazing, the results will be exactly as you dreamed they’d be, and life will be ama-“
“-Amazing,” Y/N finished, making Harry chuckle. “You’ve said that word a lot this last month.”
“Can you blame me?” Harry asked, resting his hand at the back of her neck, bringing her to him so he could plant a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s been amazing this last month. So I therefore believe that the UCAT results will reflect that.”
Y/N giggled again, walking over to the other side of Harry’s van and getting in. The two of them got comfortable and Harry started driving back to St Ives. Y/N knew how much Harry hated London, and especially the traffic there. He had made it very clear when they had entered the capital that he couldn’t stand Londoners, something that made Y/N giggle. She never saw him have proper road rage, this was the first time she’d ever truly seen it, and it has been more entertaining than she had thought.
He was no better on their way out of the city, hissing curse words under his breath as he honked at reckless drivers or pedestrians that crossed the street without any regard for oncoming traffic. Y/N knew that no matter what, she could not end up attending a University in London, because Harry would not survive the trips to and from the capital.
It was a long drive back to St Ives and she fell asleep once they were out of London and Harry didn’t wake her. He knew she had been stressing the last few weeks to revise and get everything ready for the UCAT, and now that everything was over, he must’ve thought she deserved a small break from it all, some time to relax. When Y/N woke up in St Ives a few hours later, she smiled a little to herself, looking down at the tote bag by her feet that she had filled with books. She had been ready to read out loud to Harry, but she had simply not had the energy this time around.
“Alright?” Harry asked, smiling over at Y/N as he drove up the hill to Clodgy Lighthouse. He took her hand, kissing her palm softly.
“Just dead tired,” Y/N answered, yawning slightly. “I might take a nap once we’re back.”
“Or you can wake up.”
She blinked, looking over at Harry who was smiling a little to himself. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you,” Harry said, grinning now as he killed the engine.
Not really knowing what he had planned, Y/N was apprehensive at first. She saw Harry walk over to the field beside the cottage, not really caring to know what he was doing. She was too tired for that. Next, she rubbed her eyes and took her seatbelt off, climbing out of the van to join him. Harry ran for the lighthouse and Y/N followed, smiling at his eagerness to wake her up. The sun was shining brightly above them, not a single cloud in sight, and even though it was September, it was fairly warm out despite the wind.
Harry showed the way up the lighthouse, grinning back at her every once in a while. And though Y/N wanted to ask him what he was up to this time around, she didn’t bother. She knew he’d be cryptic or leave her hanging, neither option seemed very appealing now that she was slightly irritable because of her lack of sleep. Harry opened the door out onto the gallery deck, letting Y/N wander out first. She raised her eyebrows some but did as she supposed he wanted her to. Walking out onto the deck, the wind hit her hard across the face. If you stood directly facing it, it was impossible to open your eyes completely. She could see what Harry meant by this being a method to wake up some.
“Please,” Harry said. “Go along.”
Y/N furrowed her brows, but walked further onto the deck, even though she was sure Harry would’ve fit perfectly fine next to where she had originally standing.
“I’ll owe you my life if you just go along for a minute or two, yeah?”
Y/N’s frown deepened as she looked at him. “What?”
“I don’t usually do this,” Harry grinned. “I mean, I never do this. I’ve never done this before. But, you see…” He walked closer to her, taking her face in his hands. “My mum and my sister think I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t.”
Y/N’s heart instantly melted, and she felt herself grinning right back at him.
“I was wondering, if it’s not too much to ask, of course, if you’d like to be my girlfriend? My real, proper girlfriend.”
She laughed, shaking her head at him before taking a grip of his shirt and bringing him closer. Though she didn’t know why Harry needed to do this at the top of the lighthouse, right under the light that guided sailors home, she didn’t mind. This felt right. This felt like them. This was them. It was real, it felt silly, unexpected, and a little odd, but that was what it felt like being with Harry.
She looked up into his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll be your real, proper girlfriend.”
Harry let out a breath of relief and grinned down at her, bringing her closer to him and planting a misplaced kiss onto her lips. They both giggled against one another. It hadn’t struck Y/N until now that they hadn’t made it official like this. Too much had been on her mind, she hadn’t allowed much else besides the UCAT to take up her time prior to this moment, but how that it had finally happened, Y/N felt just as relieved as Harry looked to be. She was glad that Harry had waited until now, after the UCAT, to ask, and she was also very glad to see how eager he had been to ask her.
Harry pulled away, detaching a hand from where it had rested at her neck, and held out a bellflower that he had picked outside the cottage. Reaching forward, he placed the bellflower behind Y/N’s ear, smiling to himself as he looked at it, the smile widening as he met her eyes. Y/N felt like she could burst with happiness in that very moment, probably lighting up all the oceans of the world with how much she was radiating.
“My bell room,” Harry said, touching the bellflower resting by her ear before he brought her in for another kiss.
Tumblr media
A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! Couldn’t have written ST without them! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​​​​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​​​​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​​​​ 🌊 @harrys-shrooms 🌊 @honeydearly​​ 🌊 @sunflowers-styles​ 🌊 @watermelonsuger​​​​​ 🌊  @withallthelove-a​​​​​ 🌊
Tumblr media
And so it’s over 😭 Thank you thank you thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each one of you who have been reading, reblogging, come to chat, or sent any sort of love ST’s way the last few months! There is something so liberating and beautiful about creating a world in which you feel peace, and then find that others find that same peace, that same sense of belonging, within the same world as you 💖 Each one of you remind me of why I continue to share my writing on here! Thank you for making writing, Tumblr, and fic fun! You all have my heart 💘 I LOVE YOU 💞💞
As for next fic project, as I’ve gotten quite a few questions about that already !! I’m gonna take a break from writing! Maybe a month, maybe two, dunno! I’ll still be writing some deleted scenes from ST and posting onto my Patreon, but as for a full 10+ chaptered fic, which is what I want to write next, I don’t know! But, as always, I’ll be tagging my posts with new fic tags and planning whenever I get an idea !!!! So keep an eye out lmao !!!!
Besides that, here are two songs I imagine would be playing if the end credits to ST was rolling right now 🐚 You can find the rest of the ST playlist here!
As ST!Harry said, I love you immeasurably, and as Jessa said, you’ll always have a home and a place you belong, here, in the ST universe 🌊
Your bestie, Nora ✨✨
FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!
youtube
youtube
325 notes · View notes
winetae · 4 years
Text
wall to wall (m.) 02
Tumblr media
— female reader x hoseok
— smut, porn star!au
— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)
— 19.7k 
… 
Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 
Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.
↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )
part 01 | part 02 | part 03
Tumblr media
author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;
(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 
SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.
.
.
.
It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.
According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.
It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.
You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.
When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.
And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.
In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.
Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.
As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.
“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”
“Shit, sorry!”
When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.
He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”
Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.
As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.
Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.
This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.
“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”
Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.
“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”
“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  
Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.
“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”
He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”
“You don’t—”
“My treat.”
You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.
It’s that easy.
You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  
Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.
Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.
And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.
Your eyes meet.
There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.
“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”
You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.
“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”
“Oh.”
Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”
It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”
“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”
An awkward silence ensues.
You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.
Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.
“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”
“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.
It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”
His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”
Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.
“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”
“Next time.”
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”
“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”
He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”
“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.
Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”
“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”
“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.
“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”
Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.
The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.
With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.
As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.
“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.
“I was with Hoseok, actually.”
“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”
You contemplate ending the call.
Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”
“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.
“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”
“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”
“How so?”
“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”
“Wh- Are you serious?!”
Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.
You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...
While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.
As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.
Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.
“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”
You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.
True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.
“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”
“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”
It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.
You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.
And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.
“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  
“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”
You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.
“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.
You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.
“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.
Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.
It’s just that...the timing is bad.
You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.
Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.
Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.
“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”
You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  
“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”
You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?
Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”
Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?
“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”
You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  
Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.
Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.
Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.
There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.
You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.
But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.
.
.
.
They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.
Director Ryu vehemently protests.
“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”
“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  
“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”
It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.
For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.
The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.
Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.
“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”
At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.
His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.
“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”
“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.
Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.
You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.
It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.
It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.
The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  
“Hey, Hoseok.”
His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”
“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”
Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.
“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”
You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.
“You changed up your hair.”
“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”
“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.
Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.
But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.
Your smile becomes stiff.
The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.
“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.
“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.
Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.
You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”
It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.
You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.
But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.
Hoseok’s features soften.
“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”
“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”
You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.
You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.
“...So, you dance?”
It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.
“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”
He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.
“Here’s a recent one.”
You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”
The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.
“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”
Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”
“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”
“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”
“Well... I guess I—”
“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”
“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”
“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”
You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.
Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.
“Is something on your mind?”
You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.
“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.
“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.
“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”
“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”
“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”
“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.
As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.
You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.
Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.
“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.
“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”
He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.
“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”
Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.
You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”
Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”
Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”
When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”
“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.
“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...
“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”
You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”
By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.
You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.
“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.
“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”
Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.
“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”
Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”
He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.
The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.
The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.
“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”
“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.
“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”
“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.
Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  
Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.
The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.
“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”
Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.
You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --
“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”
You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”
He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”
“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”
“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.
“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”
“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”
You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”
“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”
“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”
“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”
Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.
The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.
“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”
Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.
Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.
Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.
He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.
“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”
“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.
The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.
His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.
“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  
His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.
“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”
You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.
“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”
You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.
“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”
“Yep.”
“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”
You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.
“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”
He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.
It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’
You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’
“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.
Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  
The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  
His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.
Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.
“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”
“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”
Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.
“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”
“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”
“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”
“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”
His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”
“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”
Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”
“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”
Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.
Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.
When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.
A shudder runs down your spine.
Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.
“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.
Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”
The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.
“Hmm...”
He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.
“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.
“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”
You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.
“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”
His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.
“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.
You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.
You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.
“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”
“But it isn’t enough, is it?”
His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.
“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”
“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.
Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.
“Ah!”
Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.
“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.
Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  
You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.
“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”
“Is that...a bad thing?”
“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”
You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”
More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.
His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”
It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.
“Just - Just once…”
“Look at me.”
Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.
“You’re telling me the truth, right?”
“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”
“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”
He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.
“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”
He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?
“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”
“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.
The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.
It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -
“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.
“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”
“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”
You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.
“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”
“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.
“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”
You flinch, your face impossibly hot.
“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”
That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.
Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.
“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”
You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.
“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”
You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”
“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”
After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.
“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”
“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”
“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”
You pretend to mull it over.
Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”
And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.
Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.
Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.
The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.
Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.
With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.
It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.
Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.
If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.
You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.
“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”
He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.
“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”
“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.
There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.
His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.
“Shall we begin?”
He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.
“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.
You moan your assent. “More than.”
Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.
Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.
“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.
Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.
Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.
Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.
“You loosen up well.”
Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.
“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”
Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.
“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.
He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.
“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”
He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.
A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.
While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.
His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.
“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”
His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.
Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?
Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.
The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.
“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”
He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.
You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.
“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”
The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.
“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.
“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”
He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.
The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.
Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.
And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.
“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”
Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.
The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.
God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.
You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”
“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”
“Shit.”
You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.
Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.
Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.
While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.
Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.
“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”
“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”
“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”
A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.
You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.
“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”
He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.
A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.
Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?
A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.
The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.
“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”
Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.
A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.
Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.
“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”
The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.
You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  
In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.
“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.
“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”
More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.
For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.
Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.
“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.
“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”
“What is?”
“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”
You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.
Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”
The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.
You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.
Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.
Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.
You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.
“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”
Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.
“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”
“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”
“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”
It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.
“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”
Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.
Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.
Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?
Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”
He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.
If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.
It’s quite frankly obscene.
You’ve never felt more turned on.
“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”
The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.
“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”
He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”
His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.
Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.
He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.
Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.
Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 
Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.
Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.
His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.
When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”
He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.
The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.
“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”
His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.
Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.
It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.
The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.
Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.
He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.
“You slut.”
He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.
It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  
“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.
For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 
Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.
You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 
The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.
Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.
A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.
“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”
Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.
Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.
“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 
His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.
His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.
You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 
It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.
Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.
“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”
Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.
Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.
You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.
But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 
“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”
He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.
“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.
“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”
He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.
You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.
Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 
He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.
When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.
“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”
The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.
“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”
“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”
A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.
“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.
You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.
“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.
“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”
“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”
“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”
“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”
You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.
“Babe!”
You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.
It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.
“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”
Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.
Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”
You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”
Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.
“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”
Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.
“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”
The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.
You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.
The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.
As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”
“Sure.”
He kisses your cheek and scampers away.
Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.
Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.
“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.
“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”
Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.
.
(2) new notifications
JHOPE94 has followed you!
JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.
.
It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.
You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.
It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.
JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))
.
.
1K notes · View notes
feeling-weirdy · 3 years
Note
A quote prompt if possible- “holy f*cking guacamole?!?” (bc the idea of Vision saying that is really funny imho? 🤣)
"Just stay still for a bit, okay? This'll only take a second,” Tony stated plainly, his face inches away from one of the many projected screens that surrounded him.  Vision nodded, his eyes trailing down to the cord that connected him to Tony's computer.  The update was unnecessary, but clearly curiosity had finally gotten the better of Mr. Stark and it was only a matter of time before Vision eventually gave in.  Vision did exactly as he was told, sitting quietly in the chair next to the large table to held Tony’s primary screen.  He watched helplessly as Tony tapped randomly in the air, picking out pieces and wires that seemingly connected his internal workings.  
"It's quite alright. I have no place to be."  Vision smiled over at him awkwardly, uncertain whether this had been a good idea. Tony had assured him that it would be a quick and easy process, so he had hoped he would keep his word.  On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly known for his honesty.  Regardless, Vision kept an eye on every move Tony made.  He would be the first to know if something was amiss.
Wanda peeked around Tony’s shoulder, curiously scanning the screen.  She had followed the two of them down and was adamant that she be allowed to stay despite his insistence that this room was a “boys only” space.  Vision knew that was a lie as he had seen Miss Potts down here many a time, but perhaps that had been different.  Tony was right about one thing: There were many dangerous objects in this room and it was best for Wanda to not go poking around unsupervised.
"So...what exactly are you doing to him?"  Wanda asked, watching intently.  Her face gave away just how much she understood what she saw, a concept that caused Vision to chuckle softly.
Tony crossed the room, grabbing a small gadget from the other table before he answered her question.
"Oh you know...just some minor nicks and tweaks, recipes, satellite coordinates, Thank You note generator, upgrades, that sort of thing."  His tone made it difficult to pinpoint how much of his list had been serious.  Vision had yet to fully understand his sense of humor fully and while he had spent a great amount of time with Mr. Stark, actually processing humor and understanding it was a completely different set of skills.  One J.A.R.V.I.S. wasn’t able to fully comprehend.
Wanda squinted, eyeing Vision thoughtfully.  "He doesn't really need any of those things, does he?"  Vision smiled at her nervously.  “I thought he was...pretty perfect.”  She smiled back at him, her eyes lingering a bit longer than usual before she caught herself.  “Capable of those types of things on his own, I mean...”
Tony shrugged, oblivious to the staggering air that materialized between the two.  "Can't hurt. We wanna keep our boy in shape, don't we?"  Tony slapped Vision's shoulder, giving a breathy chuckle.  Moving to the other side of the counter, Tony created another screen, sliding his finger back and forth in random zig-zag patterns in a way only he could comprehend.
"It's just a regular procedure.”  Vision finally spoke up, reached out to grab hold of Wanda’s wrist in an attempt to calm her worries.  “There’s no reason to be concerned.  Trust me."
Wanda smiled again, looking a bit more relieved.  "It's not you I don't trust."
Tony scoffed, releasing a high chuckle. "Oh come on, Red.  I'm not gonna hurt him.  It's just routine, anything extra is just icing on the cake."  He continued poking around through Vision’s programming, scanning numerous lines of command prompts and coding lingo that was being transferred into his system.  “Plus, I practically built him.  Mentally anyway,” he added, mumbling under his breath as he continued.
"If you say so."  Wanda shrugged, curiously scanning the room as she looked at the other tech that filled the tables around her.  She wandered about the room, careful not to touch anything that may get her in trouble with the man who was watching her warily from his working position.  
Tony kept himself unusually quiet, a fact that began to bother Vision as he went deeper and deeper into his core programming.  Something wasn’t right.  A fact that became glaringly obvious as he felt one of his internal personality systems shut down.  His eyes blurred, gripping onto the table as he felt himself begin to lose balance.  A loud whirring sounded in his head, his visual slowly shutting down.
"Except...we may have a bit of a problem," he could hear Tony say.  
"What's that? You're routine maintenance not going so routinely."  Wanda asked, the two making their way back over to him.
"You play nice or you get a time out. I just uh...I might have...uploaded something with a bit of a bug.”  Tony snapped in Vision’s face, causing a strange jolt that woke up part of his system.  “Vision, you alright, bud?"
"I-I'm not sure. I-"  Vision stuttered, trying to hold himself together.  The bug had found its way into his internal processes, ripping apart anything it got its meaty little pixels on.  Even with a short scan, it t was impossible to locate just where it was hiding.  A sharp pain shot through him, confusion keeping him from locating just where the bug was hiding within his system.  Vision grabbed at his face, unable to hold himself together any longer.  "Holy fucking guacamole!  Can someone please, j-just-"  His visuals flickered, keeping him off kilter and only adding to the intensity of whatever emotions were flooding through him.  
"Yeaaah that was definitely a bug..."  Tony mumbled, running back over to where he was initially working.  Frantically tapping on the projection, throwing things back and forth from his virtual monitor.
"Tony. Fix him."  Wanda demanded, gripping onto Vision’s shoulder to offer some sort of comfort.  “Vis, are you okay?”
Vision couldn’t stop the outburst.  Wherever the little bugger was, it was messing with his language processes.  "Can you please turn this God damn thing off?  Just put it back, exactly how you fucking found it!  It's too much. I can't-I can't-"  He tried to calm himself, fighting through his inability to finish his sentences.  The pain became nearly unbearable, but he had to search for a way to correct the error.   Vision activated the anti-virus scan to locate where the little bug had lodged himself.  “My systems are overloa-”
"Young man, if you don’t watch your mouth..."  Tony joked, clearly not as focused as he should have been and having a ball during the entire interaction.  Vision didn’t find the exchange very funny.  “Sorry.  Not the time.”
"Tony!"  Wanda yelled, kneeling down in front of Vision as she kept one hand on him at all times. 
Tony pointed directly at her.  "Alright alright hey!  I don’t do well with a chaperone.  Can you back off?  Please?  Thank you."  The scan finally located the little bastard, and with the help of Mr. Stark, it was annihilated.  Tony let out a deep breath, leaning against the counter.  "Better?"
The pain stopped as his systems began to reboot, restoring his visuals and other senses.  Vision nodded, taking a moment for himself before fully answering.  Wanda sat quietly beside him, holding tightly onto his hand as he came to.  His settings seemed to have been reverted back to their original state before any alterations had been made.  Vision ran a quick scan to ensure that the bug was gone for good, only responding once the scan completed.
"Mr. Stark, I no longer wish to be subjected to your particular brand of upgrades."  Vision stated, patting the top of Wanda’s hand as a smile reappeared on his face.
"Harsh..."  Tony mumbled, turning off his monitor as he gave up on whatever else he had been working on knowing full well that Vision would not allow it after what had transpired.
Wanda looked at him with a worried expression.  “Are you alright?”  
“Yes, I’m quite alright now.  It seemed the bug stowed away into my personality chips and altered some settings.”  His eyes had fully stabilized and everything seemed to be back to normal.  He would make sure to do more in-depth scans once he was alone and able to fully concentrate, his trust to allow Tony to perform them himself entirely shattered.  “I must apologize for the foul language.”
“It’s okay, Vis,” Wanda chuckled.  “You weren’t yourself.”
"Maybe that should be yourself.  It was pretty funny,” Tony chuckled.  “And hey, at least we know now where the party button is.” 
Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!
34 notes · View notes
itswhumpday · 4 years
Text
Ersatz Emotion | Chapter 1
TW: Nudity. Bleeding. Implied stabbing. 
Out of all of the lousy jobs they could get as a mechatronic technician, Caretaker hated working for the police most. 
They’d always bring in cleaning bots with pieces of people inside, cooking bots that had cooked pieces of people or pet bots that were battered beyond belief but had still managed to chomp up pieces of a person. 
But above all, Caretaker hated when they brought in androids. 
Because, you see, at this point in time, you can’t know what’s an android and what’s a human until you’ve had a closer look. So at any given time, officers would barge inside dragging androids across the floor like you would a large trash bag, or on top of their shoulders like a hunting trophy. 
And it wasn’t that Caretaker was one of those android rights activists, but there was one fact: androids were marvelous pieces of human ingenuity and at least deserved to be treated with respect. 
Caretaker should have known this one would be different when the officer that brought them in was being careful for once. They brought it in like they would carry a sleeping person, in their arms, wrapped around in some old blanket. And as they set it on the counter, it even looked like one. It was definitely a top of the line model, with super advanced programming and delicate microstructures. The most realistic thing Caretaker had ever seen. 
“Must’ve cost a fortune.” Caretaker said, touching the soft skin of the face. It even had freckles. It was motionless and grey, lips and eyelids with a bluish tint. That was probably due to the deactivation of the energy core, that wasn’t sending signals to the fluid pump. Looked a lot like a corpse if you’d never seen a deactivated android before. 
“We wouldn’t know. The owner went missing.” The police officer was looking everywhere but the android. They clearly weren’t used to such realism. No one really was. This level was really new. The android being completely nude under the blanket didn’t help. 
“Do you know what’s the damage?” 
“No idea. It was already broken when we arrived at the apartment.” 
“Anything I should know about the owner?” 
“A rich type. Worked with those things, that’s why that one is so new.” The officer said, risking a look down at the android. They quickly looked away, shaking their head. 
Caretaker nodded. “I’ll take a look at it. When do you need it?” 
 “As soon as possible.” 
Of course. Of course it was. 
Caretaker clears their table in the back before bringing in the broken android. They had been working on other things, but their regulation required they attended to police cases earlier than other machines. 
As they raised the android in their arms, they tried to suppress a shiver when they found the exact weight of a human body. The head tumbled back, exposing the frail neck. The eyes unveiled slightly, revealing the white sclera of eyes. Their lips parted faintly, showing the glint of something blue inside. 
They lay the android carefully on the table. They rolled it to the side, looking for the spot at the back of their neck that would allow them to peel off the skin and turn on maintenance mode. It's right there, where the neck meets the back of the head, right under the hair. They peel a little bit of it and poke the small button with the thinnest tool they had. They press it for ten seconds and the android’s body stiffens. Maintenance mode protects all of the fluid inside the skin so Caretaker can peel it off and assess the damage without losing fluid.
They laid the android back on their back, watching. Now that they’re close, they can see damages to the skin, here and there. They have a dark tint, but they’re almost gone now. If Caretaker didn’t know any better, they’d think it was bruises. 
That couldn’t be, though. If you’re buying a machine, why would you want it to show damage if it got it?
They take a knife and start to feel for the entrance to the chest plaque. It’s normally along the collarbones. They push the tip of the knife in carefully until they find the correct place. They follow it to the left, and then down across the belly and all the way around until they’ve cut a squared shape in the skin. Since maintenance mode was on, no blood came out - but it was still weird to cut skin open. 
Caretaker peels it to the side, revealing the chest plate. Although it’s cavity was just like the ones they’d already worked on, it had a completely different design. Normally, it was a metal plate covering the crucial parts of an android. This one, however, has been shaped like it would be in a human body. Looked like a ribcage. 
“WHPEE-7” Caretaker reads from the inscription near where the sternum would be. “You must be really new… I don’t even have a manual for you yet.” 
Not much varied from model to model. Most upgrades in realistic androids like these were in the processing units, new programming features, like daydreaming or lip biting. One or two core pieces changed every few years, but nothing too hard to get if they didn’t have it. This one, however, didn’t seem all that different from other WHPEE models they’d worked before in the past - except for how complex they looked. 
Caretaker was able to find the button to open the chest plate where it was normally located. The faux ribs retracted on themselves, moving out of the way in a display of marvelous engineering. They looked down, noticing all of the pieces were the same, but arranged in ways that resembled a human body more. The pump on the left side of the chest like a heart, the energy core split in two units like lungs. Even the mess of cables was organized to look like a stomach. They’d been made to look as human as it got. But what for? No one was supposed to look at the inside… 
And it was badly damaged too. Caretaker soon found the source of the stains they’d seen in the skin. Fluid had spread all over the cavity, coming from some unknown location. It would take forever to clean it up - and it might have fried something. But they’d have to do it before even trying to turn it on and run a diagnostics. 
Caretaker sighed. It would be a long night. 
***
Bit by bit, Caretaker took out the pieces, cleaned the fluid in them and put them back in place. 
Androids like these weren’t made to be taken to maintenance places like Caretaker’s.  They weren’t machines that you could simply take apart. Most things were industrially produced to not be moved and it took way too long to mess with them - and every time risking to permanently damage it. No, androids like these were normally sent back to the factory, where specialists would have all of the necessary tools to remake them from scratch if it was necessary. 
Although, in cases like these, it was probably cheaper to recycle the android, make a new one and implant some core memories. Memories were tricky to program into a new body, but still less tricky than messing with the insides. 
Still, Caretaker didn’t tell their clients that. They told the investigators it would take longer - and they didn’t know how long. They were intrigued. The WHPEE factory website didn’t say anything about this model - and it was a peculiar one. If it wasn’t even out in the market, why was it in someone’s home? 
And there was the matter of the damages… 
The first and most apparent one was the crushed windpipe. It was the entrance of air that led to the energy core, where it would be transformed in kinetic energy by very small devices. And by crushed Caretaker meant… Really crushed, like a soda pop can. Thankfully, they had  the same one as the WHPEE-3, the first one of the line with this kind of energy core. Thankfully, it wasn’t the energy core itself. Caretaker had never seen a smaller or more advanced one, let alone have one to spare. 
The other damaged pieces were very similar: warped, torn and cut open. Caretaker could only imagine what could have caused such a thing. At first they thought it might have been an accident, until oxidized fluid from several occasions told them that this android probably had been operating with such damages for a while before stopping functioning. They wondered why the PAIN sensors didn’t alert the owner. 
Except… If it had. 
Either way, it wasn’t their place to keep concocting stories. Finally, after a long week, everything was clean. They took short breaks from the project to finish other overdue repairs, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else when there was a body stretched over your workspace. 
Keeping maintenance mode on, they pressed the reset button on the fluid pump - an odd choice, since the button was normally in the energy core. There was the glint of a light and then of another, while the android turned on. Normally, when maintenance mode was on, they automatically ran diagnostics when restarting, so they connected their monitor with one of the info-cables they could find running inside of the chest panel. 
Lines of diagnostic flooded the screen in red and green. But Caretaker didn’t even have to look at it to know something was wrong. As the pump began to work and the energy core started to fill in and out, the android opened their eyes and gasped. 
A painful sound escaped their throat as their arms started to move, eyes widening in what could only be described as fear. They looked down at themselves and touched the skin peeled to the side and let out a scream. Their head tumbled back, eyes closing. Caretaker almost fell out of their chair trying to pull back. That’s not how PAIN sensors were, they were supposed to just be alarms to the owners, they weren’t supposed to have programming like this. 
This was clearly… Homebrew. 
The sound of the breathing cycles were troubled as Whumpee opened their eyes again and looked around. They found Caretaker. The screen popped a warning. DANGER. DANGER. DANGER. ENERGY CORE DAMAGED. Their hand hovered in that direction but fell flat, weak. As Caretaker watched horrified, Whumpee coughed. Blue fluid came out of their mouth. Caretaker looked back at the chest cavity. There it was, a leak in the energy core. They thought it was a design element, a small empty path amongst the pieces. But now they saw… It had the perfect shape of a blade. 
Caretaker ran back to the table, grabbing a cloth and pressing it over the leak. It soaked up the cloth, but the energy core was able to run a little smoother, expanding and contracting. 
The Whumpee closed their eyes, their troubled breathing filling the workshop. Caretaker saw a glint and couldn’t believe their eyes. The eye cleaners were spilling out. Crying. Someone had programmed this WHPEE-7 to cry. Why would anyone want that? A mix of a groan and a sob came of their mouth, shaking their chest. 
“P-please. Don’t move.” Caretaker said, holding the cloth in place. 
Although the color had returned to their face, with the speed of the leak and maintenance mode activated (and therefore the fluid stored in the skin not circulating to the energy core), it was draining again. Caretaker checked the diagnostics. It was still at 67%. If they could hold a little longer… 
But it didn’t seem like it would. With a damaged energy core and the limited supply of fluid circulating, the fluid pump was working faster and faster to keep the body energized. Whumpee’s arm tried to touch the left side of their chest, sobbing weakly and furrowing their brows. 
That’s it. It was too weird. Caretaker had to deactivate it. They grab their keyboard, leaving the cloth aside. They push the diagnostics (72%) aside to a smaller window and open the access to the mainframe. A block showed on screen. 
“What?!” This is not factory protocol. All mainframes should be able to be accessed by technicians. But whoever programmed this android to feel pain, programmed it not to accept overrides from non-authorized machines. 
 Caretaker jumped when their monitor was pushed aside. They looked at Whumpee, startled. They’re weakly grabbing at the soaked cloth, the only thing keeping them from deactivation. The fluid has already spread over the pieces Caretaker had so carefully cleaned. 
“Get… Out… Of… My… Head…” Whumpee managed to say, coughing up more fluid. “Help… Me.”
Caretaker checks the diagnostics. 79%. All the police need is the memories. Diagnostics makes a backup copy of the last week of the android when it’s finishing up, so the technicians can know the cause of the damage and if there is a need to send the android back to the factory. They just need to keep the android active until then, that’s their job. 
But when they press the cloth against the energy core, the Whumpee’s weak hand holds it in place. They choked in pain, but didn’t move. 
“Who did this to you?” Caretaker asked, looking around to try and find another cloth. They have some fluid laying around, but there’s no point inserting it with maintenance mode on. 
“Th—” The Whumpee is shaken by a slight tremor. “The bastard.” 
“Who? Your owner?”
“Th— The son.” Whumpee managed to say, their voice dying inside of their throat.
84%. The screen continued to alert to fatal energy core damage. 
“Was he the one who damaged you?” Caretaker demanded. 
A new alert popped on the screen: dangerously low fluid circulation. Shutting down the processing unit. Conserving energy. 
“Prog— Programmed. Then… Damaged—” Whumpee choked on the blue fluid that came out of their mouth and coughed. Then gasped and their eyes rolled back. Their hand, on top of Caretaker’s, went limp. The other mechanical elements kept working though, even if a bit dysfunctionally from the leak. 
Unconscious. Someone had programmed the Whumpee to get unconscious - or at least look that way. They’d seen energy conservation modes before, but they’ve always looked like deactivation. Someone had programmed this one to look like unconsciousness. This case was getting weirder by the minute. 
93%. 
Just a little longer and they’d have something to give the police and it wouldn’t be their problem anymore. They could go back to fixing simpler machines - machines that didn’t cry from PAIN. 
99%. They were drenched in fluid. It was filling up the chest cavity despite their best efforts. It wasn’t ideal, but most of these components were fluid proof. But something should not be properly patched, because there was a blue glint of something electric. 
Caretaker’s rubber gloves protected them when there was an electric shock that made the WHPEE-7’s body spasm. Their head lolled to the side, fluid dripping out of their mouth and slowly coming out of their nose. The pump stops. Seconds later, the energy core. Whumpee turns grey again. 
And the monitor had stopped at 99%. 
50 notes · View notes
writeyouin · 4 years
Note
Hello! I was reading some of your transformers x reader and i enjoyed them way too much, i wondering if i could please request some poly combaticons x reader fluffiness??
Poly-Combaticons X Reader - Hostage
A/N – Yoga is harder than I thought. Man, I am like the least flexible person ever.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
Tumblr media
Swindle vented air loudly through his systems, sighing boredly. Just like the other Combaticons, he was tired of being left behind on missions. It was almost like Megatron didn’t trust them, which was crazy, because it was he who had ordered their rescue from imprisonment, right? At least, that’s what he had told them on Cybertron after he had reprogrammed them to only follow his orders; none of the Combaticons would ever know any different.
“Where’s Vortex?” He asked, hoping that the insane bot might be good for a laugh.
“Probably off causing trouble,” Blast Off replied, checking himself out in the shiniest part of the chrome wall.
Onslaught hummed, making some notes after examining a slide under the microscope, “As long as I have some peace to finish my experiments for Lord Megatron, does it really matter where Vortex is?”
“GUYS, GUYS,” Vortex called out excitedly, running in. “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!”
Onslaught cursed his luck, knowing he would never finish his project with Vortex yelling like that.
“WHAT IS IT?!” Brawl roared huffily, eager to pick a fight with just about anyone that happened to be nearby, if it would distract him from his boredom.
“ORDERS FROM MEGATRON. GOOD ONES. REALLY, REALLY GOOD ONES. ALMOST AS GOOD AS BEING ATTACKED.”
None of them really understood why Vortex loved surprise attacks so much, but they at least understood his frame of reference for excitement.
“Megatron’s back?” Onslaught asked, thinking of his unfinished project.
“NO, BUT HE SENT LASERBEAK BACK WITH SOME ORDERS.”
“What’ve you got for us?” Swindle asked, already coming up with a scam that would make the others do his work for him if he didn’t like the job.
“There’s a human hostage in the holding cells. Megatron said we must not let the Autobots take it back at any cost.”
“A human?” Blast Off actually managed to look away from his reflection for a while. “That could be interesting, I suppose.”
“UGH!” Brawl exclaimed exasperatedly. “WHAT GOOD IS A HOSTAGE THAT YOU CAN’T FIGHT. I WANT A REALLY GOOD SCRAP.”
“Come on,” Onslaught said, leading the way to the holding cells; at the very least, he might get some interesting research done on human physiology and behaviour. At Onslaught’s word, they all headed down to see the prisoner, hoping to alleviate some boredom, if nothing else.
None of them knew what to expect since you were the first human they had seen outside of TV. As such, once they all got to the door, it was decided they shouldn’t alert you to their presence until they were sure of how best to guard you; that decision greatly annoyed Brawl who never hid from anything.
“Wow…” Blast Off whispered, “(S)he looks so…sad.”
The five bots fell silent, frowning as they each thought about their millions of years imprisoned with no hope of escape; it was torturous. No doubt, you were also suffering with nobody to talk to and no stimulus to keep you entertained. At least when the Combaticons were bored, they had each other to talk to; this just seemed cruel. Even Brawl was uncharacteristically quiet, thinking about the painful years of solitude in which nobody even spared him a thought.
Vortex stayed as quiet as he could for as long as he could, totalling a record time of two minutes and ten seconds of silence. After that, he bounced on into the room, “Hey human, how are you? Are you bored? I bet you’re bored; I would be bored in there.”
Onslaught and Blast Off face-palmed, while Swindle watched snickering, and Brawl rolled his optics at his team-mate’s stupidity.
You stood up upon seeing the Decepticon enter the room. He was one you had never seen before on any of your missions with the Autobots and you wondered what his personality was like compared to the other Decepticons.
“Hello,” You greeted openly.
“Hey,” Vortex beamed, surprised you weren’t like the other humans the Decepticons had discussed in front of the Combaticons; he had only ever heard Starscream saying how they were frightened of everything, including their own shadows.
“Are you new?” You asked, your curiosity outweighing your sense of danger as it always did. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“Me, new? That’s crazy,” Vortex guffawed. “I’m super old. You’re the new one.”
You chuckled, “Yes, I guess I am.”
“GUYS, GET IN HERE, IT’S FRIENDLY, AND FUNNY TOO.”
You watched the door as three other bots sheepishly made their way in, the fourth stomped in grumpily, making sure to make a lot of noise.
“Oh, are these your friends?”
It was Onslaught who answered, “We’re his team.”
“Yeah,” Blast Off laughed, “I’m the handsome one.”
You smiled, noticing they weren’t like the other Decepticons; at least these five talked to you. “And do you have a name or am I stuck calling you handsome?”
“I’m Blast Off, our fearless leader here is called Onslaught. This glitch-head is Vortex,” Vortex pointed to himself proudly, despite the insult. “This is-”
“I’m Swindle,” The bot replied, winking at you. “You need something, you come to me first. I can talk my way outta anything and everything.”
“And last but not least is Brawl.”
“AND I’M OUTTA HERE,” Brawl huffed, still wanting something to fight.
“Ah,” You smiled knowingly.
“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” Brawl demanded, hitting the bars of your cage.
“Hey, I meant nothing bad by it. I could just tell by your cool attitude that you’re the strong one of the group. Man, I bet you could take anyone in a fight.”
“Heh,” Brawl guffawed bashfully. “If you think I look strong now, you should see my alt-mode.” With that he transformed into a tank, showing off his bulk and strength by blasting a hole in the ceiling.
You couldn’t help but smiling at the display Brawl put on just for you. Soon enough, all the Combaticons were competing for your attention, turning into their various alt-modes and asking whose was best. Even the level-headed Onslaught couldn’t help admiring your tactful answers as you said what you liked best about each member of his unit, including himself.
There was no doubt that the five would have stayed and talked your ears off forever, had you not eventually fallen asleep. Watching you slumber so peacefully, sure they had put the smile on your face, each of the Combaticons felt joy warm their cores. In just one day you had become so precious to them and all because you listened to them more than any other Cybertronian ever had.
“Let us all admit that we are feeling the same thing for this organic,” Onslaught whispered, resting his helm against the bars of your cage.
The other bots murmured in agreement.
“Then let’s bust her out,” Brawl growled. “We have more than enough firepower to do it.”
“Yeah,” Blast Off agreed, “And nobody could look as good doing it as we could.”
Vortex started shaking excitedly, “Oooh, I sense a prison break coming on, just like the human movie, Impossible Mission.”
“It was Mission Impossible, you dolt.”
Onslaught sighed, “You’re forgetting that we’ve got direct orders from Megatron to make sure (s)he doesn’t escape.”
“Do we though?” Swindle asked mischievously. “As far as I’m aware, our orders were to ‘make sure the Autobots don’t take her at any cost.’ I don’t see any Autobots here, do you?”
Onslaught considered that momentarily; Swindle really could find a loophole in anything. “Well…as long as we are all in agreement.”
As if in response, the team started their combined transformation into Bruticus, leaving room for Onslaught to join in. He did so happily, feeling the freedom and power that came with combining.
“Bruticus rescue (Y/N),” The now giant bot said monosyllabically. “(Y/N) belongs to Bruticus now.”
Tumblr media
You had long since gotten over the shock of being kidnapped for the second time that day; it helped that your new-found captor was actually the five Combaticons you had met earlier that night. All the same, you weren’t sure what was going to happen next and it seemed that Bruticus didn’t either.
“So,” You wondered how to broach your next question, “Where do we go from here?”
Bruticus shrugged his shoulders, then lowered his servo to let you down onto the beach shore. “Bruticus don’t know. What human want to do?”
“I- Hmm… I’d like to thank you for the heroic rescue.”
Bruticus’ fans started blasting in what you had come to know as a Cybertronian blush.
“And I would like to invite you to come and visit me in my home whenever you want… even though we’re really far away from it right now.”
“Not far for Bruticus. I can take you home right now.”
“Really?” You half laughed. “You would do that for me?”
“Yes, Bruticus like new friend.”
You weren’t sure how to react to that. To be perfectly honest, you were wondering exactly what you had said or done to make the Combaticons like you so quickly. If you could make the other Decepticons like you just as much then maybe you could make life a lot easier for the Autobots in the process. Either way, you were glad you weren’t a hostage anymore, though you still had no idea quite how enamoured the Combaticons had become with you in just one night. Humans had a word for how the Combaticons felt about you; they were smitten.
Tumblr media
Like my work? Buy me a coffee and earn preview of the next fic, or commission me on the commissions page.
156 notes · View notes
umbrellalad · 3 years
Text
An Excerpt from a Book I’ll Never Finish
The Galaxy and all it’s Stars
Why is quiet so hard to hear? Sitting in the quiet, listening and thinking and all I can hear is the static in my brain. No matter what I do I can’t turn it off. Even when I try to use it all the thoughts do is jam together, running into each other jumping around until all it’s caused is a headache. I try to sort them out, to figure out what it is the universe is trying to whisper in my ear, but all I hear is noise, noise, noise, until I have to just stop trying. 
My thoughts are as vast and as jumbled as the universe itself, so you’d think we speak the same language, but I guess the two don’t mix, because all I can hear is static. My room reverberates with the stuff. A box full of echos only I can hear. Still, it’s better than outside, where all of my thoughts are trapped inside my own head. Outside they swirl in the wind, forming a cloud around my head. I have to reel them in, chain them up to keep them from running out. I don’t know why they’re so hard to control. Others don’t seem to have a problem with controlling their own heads. They walk around perfectly content with the way they’re thinking, the way they’re acting, the way they’re talking. To them the world is nothing but hopscotch for one to enjoy. For me the world is a tight-rope across a windy canyon. One wrong step and it all goes tumbling down, down, down.
I find comfort in the universe. With something so colossus and magnificent, how can anything I do possibly ruin it?
Still, at times it feels like the universe is shrinking in on me. Gravity increases and the galaxies collide in on themselves. Then I go to bed. Wake up. And the universe has begun expanding again. 
Waking up today was easy. Summer had begun. I no longer had to worry about the load of homework or projects piling up while I sat in my room doing nothing.
I roll over and look at the clock at the side of my bed. It’s a retro rectangle of an alarm clock, because somehow turning the clock face into a rectangle made it more desirable then. 
9:26. Not a bad time to wake up. Early enough that I haven’t wasted the day away, and late enough to feel like it’s too late to go back to bed. 
So I get up. Whatever extensional crisis took it’s turn last night has retreated back into the basements of my brain. If it was a good day hopefully I wouldn’t have another one until at least four.
Downstairs my mom is cooking breakfast for my sisters and my brother. I can smell the bacon as I walk into the kitchen. What would be described as a peaceful, welcoming scene to wake up to is anything but. There’s not so much serenity and love in the air as there is simply hunger and tension.
My youngest sister Brielle is sitting at the table, smearing scrambled eggs on the table. Now with this behavior one would guess Bri is three? two? She’s ten. My theory is she doesn’t have that little voice in our heads that tells us our actions will have consequences. Or that she does have this voice, but only listens to it when the consequences include her. She knows that she could get up from the table right now, and Mom would go over and clean it up without a second thought.
The twins Adalyn and Asher are play fighting. A game that will without doubt turn into a real duel the moment one of them knocks their elbow the wrong way on the couch. They’re both 13. Old enough to know that actions have consequences, but still too young or too sociopathic to care. 
My mom sees me first. She’s making more eggs for Adalyn and Asher along with frying bacon. “Morning sweetie, do you want anything?”
White Dwarf
A white dwarf, also called a degenerate dwarf, is a stellar core remnant composed mostly of electron-degenerate matter. A white dwarf is very dense: its mass is comparable to that of the Sun, while its volume is comparable to that of Earth. A white dwarf's faint luminosity comes from the emission of stored thermal energy; no fusion takes place in a white dwarf.[1] The nearest known white dwarf is Sirius B, at 8.6 light years, the smaller component of the Sirius binary star. There are currently thought to be eight white dwarfs among the hundred star systems nearest the Sun
My mom is a white dwarf. She was once a shining star, a radiant young woman, full of life, energy, and excitement. When she was young my mom would go on spontaneous adventures with her friends. They would go skydiving or cliff jumping or bar hopping or just go on a road trip to the middle of nowhere. I’ve seen pictures from back then. She looks so free, so unburdened. When Mom had kids that part of her life took a decline, and when my dad left it ended completely. No more time for spontaneity. No more opportunity for it either. Now she’s only a remnant of the woman she used to be, but she still manages to give off the same warmth. 
I know she has a lot on her plate, so I try to stay out of her way most of the time. I do my best to be self-sufficient and try not to cause her too much worry. 
I wish I could be more like she was, when she was a kid. I find it hard to even leave the house without planning it a day in advance. She would board a plane and fly to Italy without a second thought. My life consists of the same thing everyday, no changes, no excitement. Is it because I made it that way or is it the way it was made for me?
I say no, like I always say no. Not because I don’t want to accept her hospitality, but because I don’t want to add to her plate of things to do. 
Nor do I want to partake in this mess we call a home life.
I grab a banana from a bowl on the table and sit on the opposite side of Bri. I look down at the egg she’s using to decorate the table. She stares at me challengingly. 
I take a bite of my banana.
Adalyn and Asher’s voices rise. Someone hit someone else a little too hard. 
Bri glares at me harder, increasing her pressure on the eggs.
Asher screams.
The banana feels tough in my throat.
The sizzling of the bacon rises.
Bri smooshes her eggs.
Adalyn yells.
My head hurts.
The scent of bacon gets thicker.
My heart picks up pace.
A cry.
A scolding.
A challenge.
A throbbing.
A yell.
I get out of my chair and go back upstairs.
My room is safe. In my room I don’t have to worry about screaming children or a messy home. The only things I have to worry about in my room are the things I create myself. Still challenging, but at least here I have a sense of control.
My headache lessens and my heart slows to its normal pace.
This house is like a prison. Everyday it feels like it’s closing in on me, tightening it’s hold on my life. There’s nowhere to go, no escape. It just drives me deeper and deeper into my own brain. 
I’m sitting on the floor. I’ve found that sitting in places where one wouldn’t normally sit when there are chairs available, is calming. It gives me a fake sense of personality.
Looking up I examine the face looking back at me in the mirror. I inherited my mother’s thick blond hair. It falls past my shoulders in ringlets. Needing something to do, I part my hair and braid it into two plaits. 
Full lips. Brown eyes. A freckled face.  Heavy brows. A pointed nose. Thick lashes. 
This is who I see in the mirror. It’s me. This is the body which my mind, my soul, my essence is encaptured. An infinity of possibilities, an infinity of features and these are the ones I’ve been graced with. An whole wide universe to choose from and this is where my soul settles. 
Oh look there’s the existential crisis. In almost record time.
I sigh and fall back onto the carpet. Stare up at the ceiling. The quiet is nice.
A crash sounds from downstairs. More yelling.
A sudden urge strikes me. Like my chest will explode if I don’t do what it says. 
I need to get out of this house.
I pull on my shoes from my closet and jog downstairs.
“I’m going to go on a walk,” I call to Mom.
She’s busy trying to talk Bri into eating some fruit with her eggs. She doesn’t hear me. I stand in the middle of the kitchen. I don’t see Adalyn, but Asher is sitting on the couch, looking very upset about the book he’s most likely being forced to read. No one sees me.
I’m used to being invisible.  As soon as the first attempt to be seen goes unnoticed, all of the others just melt away. 
I go out the front door, not bothering to take my phone with me. I don’t have to worry about getting texts. I was never really one for making friends anyways. Whenever I did find people to hang out with it always felt superficial, like they were just pretending to tolerate my company. Besides, I could never find the right thing to say. My mind wouldn’t go with the flow of their conversation, it would pick at each word, each voice inflection, each micro-expression. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning in every one of their simple sentences. 
When I was 14 I had a friend named Blake. She was my first real friend. We had met at school when she said something funny in history and I laughed. She turned around and smiled at me and I smiled back. We exchanged numbers and then every night we would text for hours. We talked about school and the teachers we hated. She talked about the boys she had crushes on and I told her why they weren’t good enough for her. We traded music suggestions and talked about how Sherlock deserved a fifth season. 
I would lay on my side in bed and smile in the glow of my phone screen. It was the best feeling in the world.
But then the spaces between her texts got longer. And I started to realize that the only nights we talked were the nights where I texted her. And then that feeling started to melt, to harden in my stomach. I worried that she felt obligated to text me back. What if she didn’t actually want to text me, and only did because she felt like she had to?
So I stopped texting her, and I waited for her to text me. 
And the text never came.
A couple times after that she would say something like “Hey we haven’t talked in so long!” and I would reply “omg what’s up?” But it was just that. An obligation. She had gotten bored of me and after a while I began to wonder why it hadn’t happened sooner.
My feet slap against the hot concrete as I walk away from home. I don’t know exactly where I’m going, but it feels good to go. I keep walking until I find myself at the edge of the sidewalk. Trees, tall and proud, loom over me. 
I step into their embrace. In the trees the air feels cooler and the light is muted. Sun shines in through gaps in the leaves, trickling over the stones and the roots. I go deeper into the woods and I feel the pressure in my head drop with each step. The world seems to sparkle and I find solace in the quiet beauty of it all. This is a place untarnished by whatever messes us humans decide to create. 
Eventually, I find what would become my refuge. It was a large pile of  massive stone blocks, shaped so that if there was a fourth side it would have been a square. But the fourth side must have fallen out, must have given way to nature, because all that remains are a few scattered blocks leading up to the top.
I like to think that it was once part of a grand castle, and that this structure was all that remained from that era we’ve romanticized so. But I live in the United States so that’s unlikely. I don’t know why it was built, or what it was meant to be, but now it stands in solitary, unbothered by whatever expectations were once put onto it.
Excited, I move towards the stones. It stands over four times taller than me, but still I climb. I crawl over the blocks and pull myself up until I stand at the top of the ruins. My heart clenches as I look down, but it’s not a completely bad thing. It’s… exhilarating. For the first time in a while I’m not stuck inside my own head. The thoughts that normally ping ponged around in my head had flown out. My mind was clear.
It was amazing. 
I felt like I was alone, sitting on an island of time just waiting. I don’t know what I was waiting for, but I didn’t mind the rest. I laid down across the stones and looked up at the sky. It was framed by the trees, a perfect little viewing spot just for me. 
I laid there for a long time. Watched as the clouds raced across the sky, eventually moving out entirely and leaving the sky open for the stars. It’s so funny how when we think of stars we think of tiny little dots sprinkled across the heavens, while in reality stars are massive, flaming orbs of heat and gas, so big we can’t even comprehend how big they really are. The sun is the closest star to Earth and we are so used to it that its mass settles slightly better in our tiny brains. But if you think, if you truly think about how immense stars, the galaxy, the universe is… Our brains aren’t big enough. 
Proxima Centauri
Proxima Centauri is the closest star to our sun. It is a small, low mass star and is a member of the Alpha Centauri system. It is located 4.244 light-years away from the Sun in the southern constellation of Centaurus. This means that even if traveling at the speed of light was possible, it would still take 4.244 years to reach the star.
The second closest star in the entire universe, and at the height of technology right now it would take 73,000 years to get there. An amount of time past comprehension. We think that time is something we observe, but time will continue long after everything else is gone. The only thing we do is give time a little more meaning, a little more use. Time goes and goes and goes and goes every if there’s no one and nothing to observe it.
I don’t know how much time I spent laying on those ruins, but eventually I stood up, climbed down, and walked home. 
Quietly pushing open the door I stepped inside. It’s moments like this I don’t mind being at home. When the house is silent everything seems a bit more bearable. The shadows give everything mystery, making each step a small adventure.
I tiptoe upstairs, making sure to step over that one stair that always groans. I peek into Mom’s room. 
She’s asleep, sprawled out across the bed. She had probably thought that I was just in my room all day. I couldn’t blame her. It wouldn’t have been off brand. 
There’s just a small part of me that wishes she would have stayed up so that we could have talked without the commotion of my siblings wrecking the house. But it’s unreasonable, it’s late and she’s tired. 
I’m tired too. Closing the door to my room I fall onto my bed. My head is still clear from my little adventure.
It was a pretty good day.
2 notes · View notes
ozcarpin · 4 years
Text
Technology, Magic, and Humanity
@ozqrowweek  Day 1 of OzQrow week!
“Well, that was a load of crap.”
“Mm, I’ll admit that the situation may not be exemplary. But I trust James’ judgement and Fria is still of the mind to be aware of what she’s agreeing to.”
“For now.”
The dark undertone of the gruff reply was not lost on Ozpin, nor were the narrowing of crimson eyes as shoulders were bunched and hands were shoved as deeply into scant pant pockets as they could go. 
Qrow had never been one to hide his feelings on a matter, expressive in his words and physicality alike. It made the man an effective opposite to the immortal who used those same things to hide his true feelings on most things. Or, at least tried to. As time had brought them closer over years and moments, Qrow had grown more and more effective at reading him. The statements behind his words, the concern beneath his optimism, and the insecurities buried deep in the pools of his outward confidence and the expectations that came with the title of ‘immortal wizard’. 
Stepping out into the cold, biting air of Atlas, Ozpin sucked in a deep breath, letting it pool into his lungs and wash away the stuffy warmth that had become cloying in the discomfort of the earlier conversation. As much as he’d put a nice coat of paint on it, he had to admit that things had just gotten a lot more complicated. While he trusted Fria completely (after all, the woman had commandingly held the mantle of the Winter Maiden since he’d been the King of Vale) things would undoubtedly get a little tricky if her mental facilities were indeed beginning to slip from her. They would need to find an arrangement that protected and respected all the vulnerable parties involved in the situation and after hours of debate, it really seemed like there would be no unanimously preferable option. 
Beside him, Qrow was still compressing his spine into a slouch impressive enough to remove about a quarter of his height, the man leering into the distance as the two of them meandered down the streets at random. They’d agreed to adjourn the (rapidly escalating) discussion for the evening and to continue it in the morning when they all had new eyes and clearer heads. To that end, Ozpin was thankful that his companion (as aggravated as he was) seemed to have opted to remain with him, rather than (literally) flying off to drown his anger at the nearest bar. As brash as Qrow could be at times, Oz was thankful to have his input in these discussions, more so in how easily the man could bark what they were all thinking when everyone else was unwilling to. 
“I hate it here.”
Golden hues shifted to once again regard his grumbling companion, following his eyes to a screen showcasing a muted advert for the newest line of Atlesian Knights. 
“Everything’s so damned cold an’ lifeless. CIty of Progress? City of robots is what it is.”
Oz knew his opinionated partner well enough to know that while Qrow undoubtedly did feel what he said, most of it was likely just projection given his sour mood. It would be easy enough to leave the statement where it was, even more to agree and let the other vent his frustrations but so often those healthy releases turned into spirals that lead off into him watching the dark silhouette of a bird disappearing into the night to find some other manner of release. As much as he loved the man, self-deprecation and healthy coping strategies were always things that Qrow struggled with, but wasn’t that all the more reason to reach out? To offer a little nudge out of the hole forming around his companion in these dark times? Besides, he’d love to talk about anything that wasn’t their current situation as well. 
“I think it has a beauty all its own.”
While he’d meant it to be heard, Oz was still a bit caught off guard when Qrow’s face turned to him finally, skeptical look in place though even that was far less sharp than the man’s features had been before, some prickly sort of curiousity peeking out underneath it all. It seemed they were of one mind in wanting a bit of a distraction. 
“How do you figure that? Aren’t old guys like you supposed to hate this stuff?”
A snort left Oz’s lips at the familiar jab and Qrow’s own quirked in response, a slight change in trajectory having them walking shoulder-to shoulder (more so when Qrow’s slouch became a bit less oppressive on his bones). 
“Contrary to popular belief I’m not entirely illiterate when it comes to modern technology, though I will admit in recent years its evolution has been kicked up a notch or two.”
“-Yeah, remind me of that the next time you have to update your desk again. I’ll come around and laugh.”
A sharp look just had the man snickering, playfully bumping Oz’s shoulder with his own as a more natural smirk coming into place. 
“Go on gramps, I need quotes for later.”
Eyes were rolled and cheeks pinkened but Ozpin remained undeterred fixing his gaze on one of the other colourful screens above them, his movements paused.
“Well, believe me or not, but it actually makes me a bit nostalgic at times.”
“What?”
He flicked a look back to his companion who had followed his own gaze, face skyward and reflecting the lights dancing across his humoured features. 
“What’s all this crap supposed to remind you of?”
“Magic.”
His answer came quickly and short, almost as if a part of him hoped that it wouldn’t be heard at all. He’d always struggled with sharing these parts of himself, even with someone like Qrow who’d he’d trust with his life five times over. It simply felt alien admitting such things.
There was no luck in Qrow mishearing though, as all at once the amusement washed away to something quizzical, Qrow turning back to face him with a raised brow and an unasked question which Oz answered first with a sheepish half-shrug and a return of his own eyes to some distant screen before quietly continuing with words barely loud enough to reach Qrow over the wind. 
“In ‘my time’, magic was an ultimate solution to many problems. Those with a gift for it were capable of some truly spectacular feats, and while it could be a source of acclaim for some, it was mostly just viewed as a matter of life. A gift from the Gods.”
Colours swirled and flickered as a dust advertisement came on above, and Oz could feel more than hear as Qrow shifted in a bit closer from where his sudden stop earlier had created distance. He resisted the urge to look, continuing before he lost his nerve to. 
“And then, it wasn’t. Humanity was reset, and so much of what had seemed ‘normal’ in life, was now different. The Grimm were rampant, resources were scarce, and so much of what had once seemed ‘easy’ now was a collective struggle. But.....”
And here he found his own smile tugging at his lips, a fondness bleeding into his voice that cut through his nerves at sharing this possibly silly comparison.
“Humanity always finds a way. You build, you create, you find ways to create solutions that were never before possible. I may not always understand the intricacies of technology, but it is, at its core, accessible in ways that magic never was and with it, with your own human ingenuity you’ve far surpassed what we had accomplished with our magic. You’ve created your own form without Gods or simple solutions. And that, to me, is-”
“-Beautiful.”
The gruff voice interjected into the end of his embarassed monologue, bringing his eyes to meet the crimson ones of his companion, something within them turning the pink on his face to red and causing it to spread as a warmth through his entire body particularly when a hand came to wrap around his own reminding him of how cold out it was if only because Qrow’s was so warm in comparison. 
“.....Yes.”
He finished, his affirmation delayed and coming out like a stammer now that he was faced with the abrupt reminder that all he’d said actually had an audience. 
Eyes searched his as his hand was squeezed, something unnameable passing over Qrow’s expression there and gone in a moment before a wide smirk split his features and a tug brought Oz stumbling back into motion with him. 
“Well, I don’t know if I share your views on that completely. Hard to really see ‘humanity’ as ‘beautiful’ or any of that when we just keep fucking everything up.”
A huff was given from the man, eyes flicking back to the screen they’d passed before, still looping the footage of the new knights ebfore they returned to Oz and the smile was back, along with a quirked brow that said far too much with the words it was accompanied by. 
 But, maybe once we get back to the hotel and I can feel my feet again, you can try convincing me again, and we’ll see how that goes.”
Very suddenly, nothing felt cold anymore, in fact, Oz remembered very little of the rest of the brisk walk back to their accommodations that night. And while the next day saw more frustrations than joy, and the weeks afterwards were touch and go as well, Qrow remained close more than he was away and together they all worked to create a solution between the warring yet co-alligned forces of magic, technology and humanity. 
32 notes · View notes
7-wonders · 5 years
Text
Lost In the Shadows
Summary: As a naturally curious person, the odd mannerisms of your elusive new boss pique your interest, making you determined to figure out who, or what, he is.
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: It’s a vampire Michael fic! I really hope you guys enjoy; feedback is always appreciated, and if you loved this I would love if you’d give it a like, comment, and reblog. Enjoy!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There’s something strange about your new boss.
Being one of the longest-tenured employees at Kineros Robotics, having worked in the R & D department for a whopping three months, you were initially relieved when Ms. Venable had told you about the sudden arrival of a new owner. You loved your work, and could think of no better job than getting to conduct experiments on new technologies to help paraplegics and researching artificial neuron studies, but the two men that hired you made it really hard to not think about quitting at least three times a day. Jeff and Mutt, the two coked-out oddballs who somehow managed to co-found a Fortune 500 company, had annoyed or harassed nearly every employee of theirs to the point of quitting within their first three months of work. You’re an anomaly, and if the pay and benefits weren’t so good, as well as the research opportunities, you would have long been out the door with the same people that you were hired with.
The announcement of a new owner was initially a welcome change to the company’s personnel. Maybe this owner would be able to put Jeff and Mutt into their places, and make them realize how to conduct themselves as the founders of such a prestigious company. Hell, maybe the new owner would even allocate some new funds to your R & D department so that you can finally purchase the new, state-of-the art projector that would allow you to create lifesize, 3-D, virtual models of your various research projects that you’ve had your eye on for a month now. Even Ms. Venable, the always stoic secretary whose only emotions seem to be apathy or disdain, manages to crack a small smile when she tells you the news. The long-gossiped about arrival of a new boss seems to be just the thing that will help boost employee morale and allow you to actually get some work done instead of having Jeff and Mutt pester you to see if you can build them a realistic sex robot (a request that you’ve denied multiple times).
Things seem like they’ll be great, and for the most part, they are. Jeff and Mutt hardly cause distractions for you now, and they approve almost any budget request you put on their desks. However, the constant look of fear that caused their eyes to dilate and widen, combined with the welcome lack of cocaine in the building, had you questioning what has gotten into the pair. Employee retention has never been higher, but so many of the newer employees walk around in a dazed stupor, only answering you if you snap your fingers in front of their faces or repeat their names. The common factor in all of this is, of course, your boss; the only question is, who the hell is your boss?
For such a dramatic change in the productivity of Kineros, you’re expecting a much larger authoritative presence than what you’ve seen. Indeed, this new boss is extremely elusive and never in the office. What’s striking to you is that there was never any official memo. No note, no email, not even Ms. Venable was able to gossip about who this boss was, simply for the fact that she couldn’t find out any information. Luckily, you’ve managed to become acquaintances with many of your coworkers, something the purple-clad secretary has never been able to accomplish. The details, while scarce, are enough to form a vague image in your head.
According to the dazed employees whom you now work alongside, the boss is a man called Langdon. No word on whether it’s his first or last name, because apparently he’s so intimidating that any question a person may have flees their mind at the sight of him. In fact, people forget most aspects of their encounters with Langdon, thanks to two possible reasons. The first is, of course, that he’s just so damn frightening that everyone’s brains develop some sort of short-term memory amnesia in an attempt to forget about what they just saw. The second which, from general consensus seems to be the more plausible, is that his beauty is so blinding that it’s impossible to remember what the conversation was about when one is staring at “those cheekbones!” Kineros has always seemed to have shallow assumptions and vapid materialism woven into its very core, so it’s not too surprising to hear that everyone is so dazed because they’ve got the hots for Langdon.
Langdon, it would seem, is the only topic that employees know how to talk about lately. Frankly, you’re sick of it. You don’t really care who the boss is, what he looks like, or where he is that’s so much more important than the business he now runs, so long as the company’s running and your paychecks are being deposited into your bank account on a regular basis. If he really wanted to make sure that Kineros was running smoothly, he would show his face around the office more in order to quell the rumors and prevent you from having to stop disoriented coworkers from applying two sources of the same charge and nearly blowing up the labs for the third time in a week.
It’s late on a Friday, which means that nobody, save the janitor and security guards, is in the building. While everyone else employed here bolted for the doors the second the clock hit five, you were just getting started with your more-important research. You like working when it’s blissfully quiet and you can move around while you think, pacing back and forth as you run over calculations or decide which millimeter difference would help your machine to work more efficiently. Lately, you’ve often found yourself in the labs until the security team has to ask you to leave so that they can finish their rounds. With all of the commotion over Langdon’s appointment, it’s been difficult to get much work done during a traditional work day.
You’re sitting at your desk, random pieces of paper cluttering the workspace around you as you attempt to work out the schematics for a new prosthetic hand you’re designing that would be controlled by a patient’s brain, when the sound of shoes clicking across the shiny floor has your pencil stopping in its tracks. It’s a foreign noise, especially at this time of the evening; both the custodial and security staff wear heavy boots, the footsteps of which you could recognize from a floor away. These are different--lighter, yet confident. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before the door to the lab opens, and you tense before taking a precautionary sip of tea and slowly turning around.
The tea was a bad decision, causing you to nearly choke as you lock eyes with your unexpected visitor. You’re sure that you’ve never met before; surely you would remember someone as ethereal as this man? His face looks like it was crafted by the most renowned Renaissance sculptors themselves, all sharp angles and delicate features. His blonde hair flows to just past his shoulders, and his cold blue eyes (accented with a dark red eye shadow that’s perfectly applied to the inner corners) watch you with an intensity that makes you shiver. He’s dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the white decor of Kineros. A silk scarf hangs loosely around his neck, ornate rings decorating his slender fingers. Your eyes linger on the metallic talon ring that sits on his index finger, which looks sharp enough to easily slice through anyone or anything.
Although his delicate features give him the look of an angel, there’s something much darker that clouds his face like a summer storm. You’ve never felt as intimidated by someone’s mere presence as you do in front of this man, and you realize that this can only be the mysterious Langdon. He smirks as he watches you scramble out of your chair, amused at your clumsy reaction to his sudden appearance. You feel intensely scrutinized as he looks you up and down, his lip curling as you nervously tap your fingers against your leg.
“It’s--uh, nice to finally meet you, Mr. Langdon,” you stutter, mentally smacking yourself for how unprofessional you look and sound. You weren’t exactly expecting visitors tonight, hence the messy bun you pulled your hair into and your bare feet, heels having been kicked off as soon as your coworkers left.
Langdon takes calculated steps towards you, stalking closer until your heart is thumping wildly at the abrupt proximity. You don’t know it, but the scent of your blood as it rushes just under the surface of your delicate skin has his eyes imperceptibly fluttering in near-ecstasy. He’s been around for a long, long time, and tasted some of the finest blood that the world has had to offer, but it’s extremely rare for someone’s essence to sing its siren song to him in the way that yours does.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he drawls, voice lilting and higher-pitched than you would have expected. It’s tantalizing, sweet, and teasing, everything that you would expect from this man. “A pity I have not been able to visit here sooner, but I have had...other matters to attend to, as of late.”
You find your head bobbing up and down at his excuses, realizing that you would quickly do anything that this man asked of you if it meant you got to hear him say your name again. The sound of your phone chiming, an alarm you had set to remind yourself to get up from your desk and get something to eat if you still hadn’t left the office (at least nobody could ever say that you underperformed at your job), snaps you out of the daze that Langdon’s presence had put you in. You narrow your eyes, refusing to let this man charm you into submission like everybody else at this company.
“What, did you buy another company just so you could arouse some more suspicion as the mysterious, elusive commander-in-chief?” Your breath catches in your throat, the words escaping before you can even think otherwise.
Langdon stares at you for a long moment, and you’re already bracing to pack up your belongings and leave before security has to drag you out of the building. Then, something unexpected happens. A slow smile spreads across his face, one that shows off his (oddly sharp-looking) teeth.
“Witty and a genius, then.”
“Hardly, but thank you, Mr. Langdon.”
“It’s Michael,” he divulges, and you get a warm feeling in your chest that only a select few are privy to this information.
Langdon--no, Michael, you remind yourself--glances over your shoulder at the rough sketches of your next projects that clutter your desk.
“Artificial neural pathways? That sounds like quite the endeavor.”
“It will be, but it’s an endeavor I’m excited to take on. We’ve only used artificial neural pathways in order to enhance computers, but why not use them to help people? They’re made to mimic human functions; if I can figure out a way to target specific areas of the brain and make them small enough for successful implantations, there’s no telling what we could accomplish. Think of all of the traumatic brain injuries that would be healed with these! We could, potentially, eradicate diseases like Alzhiemer’s and dementia.”
Michael, for whom empathy is not an emotion commonly felt, finds himself listening intently as you explain your ideas. Your face lights up as you talk about this passion of yours, making his chest clench almost painfully. He didn’t come here tonight to ‘meet’ some of the people under the Cooperative’s hierarchy, he came here to feed. The entire damn reason for showing up suddenly at Jeff and Mutt’s thirtieth-story office was to collect part of their payment that comes along with selling their souls, like allowing Michael to take over the company, further his plans for the end of days, and have free reign of a hunting ground that was teeming with blood of all different types and tastes.
There’s multiple reasons why Michael doesn’t allow himself to get attached to humans. For starters, their lives are all too short compared to his, and all too irrelevant. How can they expect to make any sort of a meaningful mark on their dull world when they have, at most, a few decades to live? Pathetic creatures, Michael’s always thought whenever he watches them; a predator stalking his prey. They’re so easy to fool, to charm and glamour until they’re basically baring their necks to him, begging him to feed from them. Humans are pliable, minds easily molded by any force stronger than a slight breeze.
You were meant to be nothing more than Michael’s next meal. The beginning of his hunt was so routine, it was almost comical how easy it was to waltz into your lab and work you into a daze. Your damn phone alarm had ruined it all, had snapped the spell that he had put you under and allowed you to face him head-on. As soon as your little backhanded insult reached his ears, he knew that he couldn’t go through with it. His kind is, unfortunately, prone to enhanced feelings. In addition to their physical abilities becoming heightened with the transformation, their emotions are as well. It’s one of their very few weaknesses, and one that may have just saved you from your death.
If it were any other day, any other person, any other occasion, intense rage would course through Michael’s body and the victim would be dead before they could even blink. Today, though, he’s slow to anger. Whether that be because he had just fed three days ago or because he’s actually enjoying this hunt, your remark catches him off guard. You have a fire within you that Michael hasn’t seen for some time. Even if he doesn’t cloud the mind of a human, they’re usually so taken by his beauty that they couldn’t even think to say anything remotely disparaging. He admires it, that fight, and it’s enough of a hesitation for that admiration to make him doubt his choice for today’s meal. After you explain how you plan to develop neurons that would save a person’s brain from the slow decline of disease, Michael knows that he can’t kill you.
Michael could, of course, still feed from you without killing you. Although it looks like the obvious option from an outsider’s perspective, it’s only feasible when the source is a willing party in this dark tango. He’s had a few of those partners in previous decades, but has been without one for the last twenty or so years. When hunting, like Michael is, there are only two options for what to do with one’s prey (after all, consuming a human in their entirety was lethal, the dead blood dragging his kind to their own deaths). Either the victim’s supply is drained for macabre leftovers, or they’re compelled to forget the entire experience.
Small-scale compulsions have no lasting effect on the compulsee, but forcing a person’s mind to forget hours upon hours of prior events leaves them in what’s basically a trance. They become sleep-walkers, only this is a dream they can’t wake up from. With their glazed eyes and one sentence answers to any questions that may be asked of them, they’re temporarily shells of their former selves as their minds try to comprehend and make sense of the sudden gap in memories. Michael can’t do that to you, can’t watch your brilliant mind be muddled just so that he can get a quick meal. Hell, he would just kill you, but something in him balks at the mere idea of such an act.
You stifle a gasp when Michael’s suddenly inches away from you, hand ghosting across your cheek and talon ring dangerously close to nicking your skin. His cyan eyes burn into you, as if he’s sifting through the deepest crevices of your soul. He smiles again, but this time it’s softer, like he knows something that you don’t.
“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be here this late at night. Go home, (Y/N),” Michael whispers, head tilting while he watches every minor movement that your muscles make. Your brow furrows at his abrupt instructions and you tense, not willing to let this near-stranger tell you what to do.
“But I’m not done yet, and why should I even--”
“(Y/N),” Michael almost coos, eyes searching yours as he gets your attention and pins you to your place. You want to move and escape his grasp before berating him for his actions, but you can’t seem to even blink, much less look away from his gaze. “Go home.”
His words carry a different power this time around, and you start to gather your coat and bags as soon as he lets go of you.
For tonight, Michael will reduce himself to hunting on the streets, finding some vagrant to satiate his needs. He won’t kill you, not until he figures out how you managed to unknowingly find a weakness of his and exploit it to avoid your death. For now, though, Michael releases you from the building and watches you until the door closes behind you, making sure your stubborn mind actually heeds his compulsion. Even when you’re out into the cool night, you can still feel the piercing gaze of Michael’s chilling eyes on your back, closely watching your every move.
There’s definitely something strange about your new boss.
////////////////////////
For the next two weeks, you’re constantly on edge at work as you try to keep an eye out for Michael. You’ve attempted to figure out how he got you to leave so suddenly on that night, tried to find some logical explanation for the strangeness of that evening, but you just can’t. You’re a woman of science, one who finds solace in facts and figures. All of the collected data in the world couldn’t explain the enigma that is Michael Langdon.
The computer has become both your best friend and your worst enemy as of late. You’ve searched almost nonstop for some sort of an explanation, with nothing to show for it except for a few Reddit /nosleep boards with their made-up horror stories. It’s useless, you’re starting to feel, and you’ve spent far too many hours perusing the internet instead of focusing on your work. A direct consequence of this action, you’ve stayed late at work nearly every night that you’ve found your mind wandering. What had originally seemed to be a self-inflicted punishment, however, is starting to feel like a piece of a much larger puzzle.
Michael starts to become a familiar face around Kineros on the evenings that you’re working late. While he may just be an extremely productive night owl, it’s still a little odd that he’s only ever around during the later hours of the night. When you had asked Jeff and Mutt about it after your first encounter with Michael, they had both stuttered aggressively before unconvincingly telling you that “he makes his own hours.” You weren’t buying it at all, and their behavior towards the matter only made you more suspicious. Why did you only ever see this man in the late hours of the night?
The odd work habits were the main red flag, but others just kept popping up as soon as you realized that things were not quite right. You couldn’t help but notice that every person who shared the same dazed demeanor you had seen on countless others since the change in personnel had one other thing in common: they had all come in contact with Michael. You’d be working late, see one of your coworkers in the kitchen while you were both grabbing another cup of coffee, see Michael on your way back to the lab, and the next day that coworker would be walking around like a zombie. You’ve tried to convince yourself that there’s no correlation between the two situations, but the only other option would be some sort of poisoning that happens after-hours. Obviously that’s impossible, considering you haven’t been affected like the other employees have.
It’s childish and fanciful, the theory that’s placed itself in the forefront of your mind. However, what other conclusion could you come to that would explain the strange and unusual things that you’ve seen and experienced lately? Michael, this young, ethereal man who was able to have you completely under his spell with just the utterance of your name, managed to take control of a Fortune 500 company in a day. The odd mannerisms that others around you have displayed only began when Michael showed up here, not to mention the ever-present glass of what looked to be red wine nestled snugly between his fingers. You only ever see him at night, and he appears so suddenly and quietly that it’s as if he’s a ghost. Everything about him seems like a rose dipped in poison: beautiful, but deadly.
You’ve seen Michael helpfully calibrate your neutron spectrometer with simply a glance at the machine and some skilled handiwork. Even a professional repairman, with their specialty tools, would have required at least a week to get it to working condition. He even lifted the 300-pound piece of equipment like it was the weight of a newborn kitten, briefly making you think that it wasn’t nearly as heavy as you thought it was. That was quickly disproven when you tried to lift it after he left and couldn’t even move a corner of it.
You’re not some 15-year-old child anymore, which is what will make this conclusion so humiliating if it actually is wrong. You know what the realm of possibility is, and that even most things that belong outside that realm are still rooted in logic. That you would believe yourself to be the protagonist of some teen supernatural novel is almost ludicrous. You’ve eliminated all other possibilities, but Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself once said that “once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” With all that you’ve seen, and all that you know, there can only be possible truth.
Michael Langdon is a vampire.
It’s not a conclusion that you’re proud of, but it’s the one that you’ve got. Nevertheless, the plan that you’ve formulated will either make or break you, and your career. You know that you’re the only Kineros employee in the building tonight, since Jeff’s ‘birthday’ (third one this year) warrants a massive party at his house that all employees are invited to attend. Most of your coworkers won’t turn down the opportunity to indulge in some of the finest drugs that the West Coast has to offer, and you’ve asked around enough to discern that you’ll be the only one here tonight. Since it’s a Thursday, Michael should, if what you believe is correct, be stalking the halls tonight in search of his next meal. Theoretically, predator will become prey.
You’re sitting at your desk, legs propped up on the table while you twirl a scalpel between your fingers. Although you could have already set your plan into motion, you’re hesitant. What if it doesn’t work? What if you just turn out to be some fool with your head in the clouds, making yourself bleed for no reason? Worse, what if it does work and you end up getting yourself killed? It’s now or never, you decide, and with a deep breath you dig the tip of the scalpel into the pad of your finger.
Michael’s head snaps up the moment that he smells the blood being spilled from four floors below. It’s impossible for his head to not be clouded with your scent whenever he’s in this building, the rich aroma so intense that he can practically taste it on his tongue. Now that your skin has been cut, you’re all that he can think about. He’s been desperate to control himself, has sensed your ever growing suspicion since your first encounter two weeks ago. He can’t let himself slip up, not after he’s been so careful for so long. The injury that you’ve sustained, however minor it may be, changes everything.
The door is flung open with such force that it rattles the hinges, your head snapping up at the disturbance. It’s been maybe 30 seconds since blood started beading at the tip of your finger, and it’s such a small amount that you’ve been preparing to injure another part of your body that will produce more blood. Michael stands mere feet away from you, looking positively ravenous. His chest is heaving as he takes deep breaths, and his eyes are locked onto your finger.
“I knew it,” you mutter in disbelief, brandishing the scalpel in front of you as a pathetic weapon. Dark veins have appeared like cracks under Michael’s eyes, which are now a startling shade of red and black. It’s obvious that he can sense your fear, can hear your heart beating wildly in your chest, when he smirks and shows off his pointy fangs.
“It was only a matter of time before you figured it out, hmm?” Michael teases, voice sounding even more exquisite than it normally is. “You’re not like the other employees here, oh no. You’re smart, and self-aware. You’re able to believe in things that seem to be outside of the realm of possibility, no matter how insane it may seem.”
“Stay back,” you warn when Michael starts to take a few steps closer, still staring at the blood that has welled on your finger.
“You think that little knife of yours could stop me?”
A loud gasp is the only noise you can produce when Michael is gripping your wrist in less than the blink of an eye. He forces the scalpel out of your hand, and it falls to the ground with a clatter. You can only watch as his tongue wraps around your injured finger, sucking and licking the blood and prodding the wound to produce more. Your knees grow weak as you watch the shockingly erotic scene play out in front of you, Michael moaning around your finger. He only pulls off when the blood flow stops, your cut clotting quicker than Michael can agitate the wound.
“I taste good to you?” You ask, watching him intensely as you snatch your hand back from him.
Michael licks his bottom lip, where some of your blood has pooled, before smiling ferally and nodding. “Absolutely divine, pet.”
Anger flares at the pet name, but that’s really the least of your concerns right now considering a fucking vampire is ready to devour you.
“You want more?” Michael nods enthusiastically. “Then you’re gonna have to sit down and answer my questions.”
“And what makes you think I won’t just drain you right now?” Michael drawls, quirking an eyebrow at your demands.
“You won’t,” you say confidently. “If you didn’t kill me that first night you showed up in my lab, there’s no way you’ll kill me now.”
Michael locks eyes with you for a long moment, a shiver wracking down your spine as you stare into those dark red eyes. You honestly don’t know if he actually would kill you, and you’re praying that you guessed right. Finally he nods, sitting in the seat that you occupied mere minutes ago. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, hopping onto the desk to give yourself some illusion of dominance in this situation. He’s annoyed that you’ve flipped the tables on him, but that annoyance turns to rapture when you dig the scalpel into the fleshy part of your palm just enough to bring a drop of blood to the surface.
“Answer my questions, and I’ll cut enough to let you drink. Deal?” You wince at the pain of the blade piercing your skin, but push it to the side as you wait for Michael to make his decision.
“Yes, fine! We have a deal.” You remove the blade from your hand and wipe the blood against a cloth, making Michael groan at the waste.
“Oh hush, you haven’t even answered my questions yet.”
“Just what would you like to know?”
“First: how are you a vampire?” Michael leans forward in his seat, teeth glinting as the light hits them.
“Ah, but I am so much more than just a vampire.”
Michael then proceeds to tell you the Sparknotes version of his story, which spans almost 400 years. How his father, the fucking Devil, created him with the goal of ushering in a new era for Hell to reign on Earth. The idea was that an immortal Michael would be able to live among humans and constantly change and observe, like a chameleon, collecting information and discerning when the right time to end the world as it is known would be. Unfortunately, immortality comes at a price. In order to live forever, with enhanced abilities and as young as he is now, Michael must feed from the blood of humans in order to retain his youth. One life benefiting another, although you don’t really see how senseless killings would benefit anybody but the killer.
“If you can’t survive without the blood of humans, then why are you so obsessed with ending the world?” You ask finally when Michael’s finished telling you his history.
“It’s not so much ‘ending the world’ as it is weeding out those who are not fit for survival. Only the strongest shall survive, and the strongest will be given the honor to serve Satan and his creatures.”
“Cultivating your food source, then?” You snort at the sheer ridiculousness of his plan.
“We won’t have to kill when everyone is willing to offer themselves. Think of it as a blood drive. Only a couple of pints every few weeks, which is what they would sacrifice to remain alive and in good health.”
“Why do you believe you’re so much better than everyone else?”
“Because I am,” Michael says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I’m the Antichrist, (Y/N). I possess powers that your mind couldn’t even fathom. I could level an entire city with just the snap of my fingers, could bend you to my will with a simple glance.”
“That’s how you were able to get me to leave the building that first night,” you realize, Michael nodding in agreement.
“Very good, pet. It’s also why so many of your fellow employees look as if they’re sleepwalking,” he mocks, giving you half a mind to dig the scalpel into the side of his neck. “Don’t even try it. That silly little wound would barely harm me, let alone kill me.”
“Great, you can read minds too?”
“Yet another one of my numerous gifts.”
“This is...a lot to take in.”
“Obviously. It’s not every day that you meet a man such as myself.” Michael licks his lips, staring at the beating pulse point on your neck. “Now, I believe you promised me some of your blood after I did what you asked of me?”
“Wait!” What sounds like a growl rumbles from Michael’s chest as he rolls his eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me, that first night I met you? It’s pretty obvious now that I was meant to be your meal then, so why did you decide not to? Aren’t I a liability now?”
“You are,” Michael admits. “You could, theoretically, run to the press and spill my secret. But you won’t. I don’t know you that well, true, but something in me knows that you won’t.”
He’s right, and you hate the fact that he is. Even if you were to tell the media, would they even believe you, or would they just think you’re crazy? Michael hasn’t killed you yet, but it’s entirely likely that he would end your life if you tried to tell anybody. Vampire or not, you’re not a snitch. His secret, unfortunately, is safe with you.
“Alright, fine, I wouldn’t tell anybody. That still doesn’t answer my first question, though. Why didn’t you kill me on the night we met?” Michael hesitates, the first sign of any emotion other than a confident arrogance or intense hunger.
“I--vampires are prone to heightened emotions. What you would feel as a normal emotion, we feel that tenfold. I was so close to completing the hunt and draining you, but your alarm snapped you out of the daze I had you in. When you made fun of me for never being around, it managed to make me laugh. You didn’t know it, but you had bought yourself some time. After you explained to me your plans, and I saw the brilliant mind you possess, there was no way I could kill you. You’re the first human I’ve talked to for almost a decade that’s made enough of an impression on me to avoid becoming prey.”
“I thought you were going to end up firing me after I said that,” you joke, placing the scalpel down now that you know you’ve made it impossible for Michael to kill you. “Well, a deal’s a deal.”
Michael’s eyes widen, and his fangs nearly pierce his bottom lip, even as he’s smiling. “Is it alright if I bite you? It’s been so long since I’ve had someone willingly let me feed from them.”
He closes his eyes and shudders, the mere thought of getting to bite you already exhilarating.
“Um...yeah, I guess?” The speed at which Michael moves is dizzying. One moment you’re staring down at him, and the next he’s got your back pinned against the desk.
“I’ve had to cut back on my hunts here in an attempt to keep you from figuring things out, but now that the secret’s out, that won’t be an issue.” He breathes deeply, nose nuzzling against your neck. You gasp when he lightly nips your pulse point, licking the heated flesh thoroughly.
“I won’t, like, become a vampire or anything, will I?” Michael smirks up at you, red starting to make its way back into those blue eyes.
“There’s a very specific process to become a vampire. You have nothing to worry about, pet.”
“This is so fucking crazy, I can’t believe I’m going to let an actual vampire bite me,” you mutter, nervously laughing as Michael brushes the hair away from your neck.
“I should warn you that many people find immense pleasure from being bitten.”
“Why’s that?”
“When connected to a pulse point, my heartbeat begins to sync with that of whomever I’m biting. This connects us, basically, and is very pleasurable for both parties.”
“Hmm, so exaggeration is also a vampire trait,” you quip, staring up at Michael. “Just get it over with, please.”
You refuse to close your eyes or look away, not wanting to show that you’re actually scared of the situation. Michael leans over you, heavy weight pressing you down against the glass desk. It’s a little shocking when he starts off by gently kissing your neck, nipping and sucking like every person who’s ever given you a hickey before has. When his hair starts to tickle your face, you lean your head further to the side. Michael looks up from his position, and you’re startled to see just how rapidly red floods into his eyes and black veins pop out above his cheekbones. He smirks, shooting you a playful wink before letting his head drop back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
You yelp when he first bites you, two pinpricks that feel like a liquid fire easily slicing your skin and allowing Michael to drink from you. His hips keep your lower body from squirming, hand locked in your hair and arm on your shoulder to prevent your thrashing. A question of whether Michael’s fangs act as straws, or if he simply allows the blood to pool into his mouth, enters your head. However, all thoughts are quickly pushed aside when the near-agonizing pain suddenly turns to a blinding pleasure.
Michael moans at the same time as you, but it hardly registers over the sound of your own pumping blood roaring in your ears. You can suddenly feel everything; blood running through your veins and being drained by Michael, how his velvet coat feels against your bare wrists, and even how painfully hard he is against your thigh. If this were any other time, you’d laugh in his face and make fun of him to the point where he would love to kill you. Now, though, you’d be a hypocrite, for your own arousal pools between your legs. You’re extremely grateful that you’re unable to move, or else you’re pretty sure your hips would be bucking up into his.
All of your senses are clouded by Michael. The sight of him, eyes closed and teeth clamped over your neck as he drinks deeply from you. The sounds of him, consuming your blood and loudly moaning at the same time. The feel of him, pressed up against you much in the same way a lover would position themselves. The smell of him, that rich copper that you now associate with blood and something earthy, something you only smell when you’re around a precious antique. Even how you can practically taste what he’s tasting, can see the allure in your own sweet, yet tangy, blood.
All you can think of, all you want, need, is Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael. You chant his name like a prayer, hands itching at the need to wrap around his lithe form and pull him even closer to you. The intense pleasure is all-consuming, and you realize that you would gladly let him drink you to death if it meant your last moments would be spent in ecstasy.
Michael isn’t a new vampire, and knows all of the signs when it’s getting to the point that his victim is going to start losing too much blood. He can sense your heart beating faster, breathing quickening as your legs weakly kick from under him. It’s incredibly difficult, but he manages to pull away. He can’t resist his base urges, leaning in to collect the last few drops of blood from your puncture wounds before sitting up between your legs and licking his lips clean. You scramble up, lightheaded and so aroused that you’re pulsing between your thighs.
“That was--that--wow,” you stutter, clutching a hand to your neck. You cringe slightly at the feeling of your own heart beating beneath your fingers, Michael smirking and delicately cleaning his fangs with his tongue.
“Such pretty noises you make, pet. Not to mention just how delectable you taste. Best that I’ve had this century, surely.”
You silently curse when you feel your cheeks heating up, Michael smiling widely at the blush on your face.
“Are you done now? I’d like to go home now,” you discreetly shift your thighs, trying anything to stop feeling so hot and bothered.
“I get the feeling that you’re just as desperate for more, just as I am.” When he reaches down and palms himself through his slacks, you blanch and jump up.
“Goodnight, Michael.” The man in question stands, gleefully watching as you shakily gather your things.
“Goodnight, (Y/N). Rest assured, this is not the last time we will find ourselves in a situation such as this.” Somehow, you don’t doubt that at all.
///////////////
Tag List: @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @sammythankyou @girlycakepops @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @lichellaw @sebastianshoe @pastel-cloudz @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @dolceandchalamet @everything-is-awesomesauce @langdonslove @ccodyfern @consultingsnowqueen @starwlkers @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @hplotrfan @omg-hellgirl @gallxntdean @storminmytwistedmind @venusxxlangdon @langdonsdemon @kahhlo @americanhorrorstudies @antichristwrites @xxxmaterialistic @forgetting5sos @sadsadiesworld @michaelsapostle @izuniias @divinelangdon @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns
487 notes · View notes
Note
heya! please could i reading on what my next partner will be like personality wise and how the relationship will be? thank you, s xxx
Tumblr media
Your focus now is on expansion, movement, and time spent away from home, romance, meetings and gatherings, new opportunities, and long distance communications.
You want to speed things up, settle a matter of concern, or branch out on your own
This is a positive time for romance and if a significant love affair doesn't begin, you'll at least be charmed by an admirer or two.
Someone causes you to make changes in your thinking or current plans and a better arrangement may be made..
A positive frame of mind and unusually light or confident due to a new discovery or enterprise; or, your thoughts will be turned toward love and romance.
Good news from a relative (maybe about a court case) and spending time with another family member.
A misunderstanding or misrepresentation regarding a friend.
Don't let conditions, appearances, or what others have to say sway you or cause you to veer from your ideal. What you want is right under your nose, just waiting to be discovered.
Don't alienate yourself from life-giving forces. God (or spirit) dwells in you as you and in everyone and everything else. Love and light exist in and around you, as well as in and around everyone else.
Be thankful for all that you do have it that which you have been given. Steer clear of negative thoughts or influences. Allowing for weakness can be dangerous in that it will undermine all the work you've done.
This person may be a ♓ Pisces, or someone with that kind of temperament. The timeframe of February to March is also possible when you will meet or make the next step but don't worry about that.
This person is impressionable, reflective, sensitive, emotional, vulnerable, warm, loving, romantic, talkative, imaginative, intuitive youthful, and/or sometimes flakey.
The kind of job, career, study or hobbies include: Institutions, self-help organizations, I cultist, poet, dancer, set director, make up artist, wardrobe head, or anything that deals with illusion. Works best behind the scenes, or finishes what others start.
Their focus is on unfoldment or expansion as well. They yearn and discern, going to meetings, discussions and work related projects for the future.
They will be anxious about how things will turn out in the future but hope they will. However involvement will be slow.
People will cause them to reexamine their objectives and what they want out of life, and romance can be found at work (maybe you).
They will be driven for the need for love and companionship. Without it they will feel like they are just going through the motions, which is sort of an empty feeling.
They will feel very impressionable or sensitive, and will be struggling to assert themselves.
The focus in your relationship will be on all things you thought you had completed or had a handle on like old friends, lovers, habits, desires, health, money or business problems resurfacing for the sole purpose, or seems to test you both to your very core.
The relation ship is related to the past like meeting once again from a previous life, or earlier engagement as if to have a last go-around or to close that chapter in your life.
I'm feeling this is a soul mate you both have karmic ties or loose ends to tie up. This relationship is going to be hard but it doesn't mean it won't end with marriage. If you both can weather the storm together as a team instead of butting heads, it very well could.
Again you both will feel like your being tested and will be under a lot of pressure trying to understand or rise above the events that are happening. In addition, an appliance will burn out, short out, or go on the fritz.
You will both be very busy and plans to do things together like trips or vacations will be put on hold.
One of you will feel slighted because the other is "ignoring" or not including in plans, being completely honest, living up to promises or commitments.
Your relationship will cause nervousness, agitation, fear or confusion and will have difficult time maintaining emotional balance.
Your relationships success will come through your ability to maintain control over volatile conditions and utilize ideas in order to bring about the kind of relationship you want.
You will consider it a blessing to have a friend or someone who loves you.
Work on your individual problems and don't be afraid to air out fears or let your demons surface. Confront them individually or together head-on and if you need verification or more understanding, ask for it.
2 notes · View notes
heyauntieeee · 6 years
Note
I don’t have anything specific but college Erik is my favorite Erik 🥰🥰🥰
Title: Study Buddy (Lame ass title I but I couldn’t come up withanything else lmao)
College!Erik X Black!Reader
Summary: Erik helps you study for your TEAS exam
Warnings: Language, Slight smut (my first time bear with me)
This would be my first time writing college!erik but I hope you enjoy it. This subject is currently relating to me because I’ve been studying for the entrance exam for nursing, so here it goes!
Tumblr media
The both of you were currently onspring break, however, while your roommates went home, you decided to stay atcampus to study for the TEAS exam and your boyfriend Erik is staying with yousince he doesn’t have any family outside of you. Since this test was one of theonly things, besides your grades, that was standing between you and the nursingprogram, you made it very clear that there couldn’t be much fooling around asyou were taking the test in two weeks time.
The two of you were sitting on yourcouch in your campus apartment. Your books and notes litters on the coffeetable. There was a highlighter between your teeth and a pen between your indexand middle fingers. You were deeply engrossed in your notes focusing on thescience section in particular seeing as it was the most important section ofthe exam. 
You could feel Erik staring a holein the back of your neck, so you sit up and squint your eyes at him.
“I thought you were gonna help mestudy.”
“You tryna be in them books, I’m tryna be in them guts. It’s beena minute since I seen you baby girl, I miss you.” Erik proceeds to startkissing your neck and while you missed him too, God knows you did, you couldn’t be distracted at themoment. You shrug him off of you and mush his face trying to push him to theother side of the couch not caring about the fact that he was so fucking bulkyhe didn’t budge, he snorts at your effort.
“Daka you know this test isimportant,” You whine. “I can’t be fucking around I need at least an 85% onthis thing.”
He sighs, knowing you were rightand not willing to come between you and your education. He had faith that youwould pass considering you excelled in your prerequisite courses. You were everthe over achiever, willing to succeed by any means necessary. He could recallnot being able see or talk to you for days, when you were in high school andthroughout your time in college because you had to study for exams or completeprojects and papers. Hell, if it weren’t Spring Break this would undoubtedly beone of those times. Trust and believe he was the same way, but for the week hejust wanted to lay up under his girl.
“Aight, how about this, every timeyou get an answer right, I’ll kiss you wherever you want.” The proposition, ascorny and cliché as it was, piqued your interest. As fly as Erik was, he’s had his fair share of being a cornballsometimes.
“Is this to help me or to helpyou?” You ask.
“I’m helping the both of us getwhat we need, princess.” Surely you weren’t gonna pass up on his offer. Youthink why the hell not.
“Ard, quiz me.”
Excited, he grabs one of the studybooks and tells you that they’ll do science questions sincethat’s what you’ve been focusing on for that particular day, then flips the pages to the back of thebook where the practice questions were. He looks over the question beforeraising his head to meet my eyes. His gaze makes you squirm.
“First question: What crystallinesolid contains ionic bonds with the least covalent character?”
You scrunch yourface up. “So, you just gon come out the gate with the hard questions? Youknow I hate chemistry.” 
“Ion give a fuck, you answering thequestion. Tic toc lil nigga.” You kiss your teeth and think hard. Chemistry wasnever your strong suit. In all honesty you still don’t know how you managed topull a ‘B’. Must’ve been by the grace of God. Finally, you just give upand guess.
“I don’t know, Sodium?”
There was a pause for about fiveseconds before he lets out this obnoxious buzzing noise scaring the living shitout of you.
“DAMN NIGGA! Did you have to be sofucking loud?!”
“Did you have to be so wrong?”
“Don’t make me smack you Erik.”
“You ain’t slapping shit over here,I dare you.” You roll your eyes.
“Anyway, what’s the answer,” you ask impatiently.
“Lithiumfluoride. We coming back to that question.”
“Or we canskip chem all together,” you mutter.
“NOT ON MYWATCH!” He yells as he slams his hand down on the book startling you onceagain.
“Aight,Iyanla Vanzant wannabe next question!”
He flipsthrough some pages again saying more slick shit under his breath. Some thingsto the effect of ‘not letting his babyfuck up her grade cause she don’t know the difference between coefficients andcovalent bonds. She gon learn today.’ When you think about it, it’s reallysweet, but he can be so damn aggravating. He finally finds another question andreads.
“What eventoccurs simultaneously with the end of systole?” This one you definitely knew.
“The rightventricular pressure reaches a minimum value.” Erik grins.
“That’s whatI’m talkin bout baby! Where you want it?”
You thinkabout where you want to be kissed and remember he didn’t kiss you when he camethrough the door earlier, he only greeted you with a weak ass half hug becausehe was on the phone when he walked in, which he knows you hate but themotherfucker still does it anyway.
You thenpoint to your lips with a pout. “I never got my kiss when you came in, justsome lame ass hug.”
“My bad mama,I was handling business.”
“I know.” Andyou knew exactly what that business was.
Erik goingaway on his secret missions, coming home bruise, bloodied, and new additions ofscars to his body. Of course, you didn’t like seeing him that way and everytime you fussed over him and cleaned him up, he’d remind you that this was allpart of the plan that he was destined for something, greater and that our timewould come.
You’rebrought out of your thoughts by the feeling of Erik’s soft full lips on yours. Youinstantly start kissing him back, your hands grip his forearms, longing tobring him closer. He leans more toward you, his large frame towering over youas he deepens the kiss. You lean back further into the couch and allow him torest between your legs. He brings one of his hands to your next and it reststhere for a second, then you feel the slight pressure of Erik squeezing yourneck with just enough pressure that causes you to gasp, letting his tongueenter your mouth. The taste of him is unreal, even after all these years ofbeing with him, kissing him like this, he still tastes better than the firsttime you kissed him. You let his tongue dominate yours and roam around in yourmouth. You let a small moan leave your mouth and get an ‘mhm’ in reply. Thebass in his voice sends a shock down your spine and straight to your core. Youmoan again as you feel the wetness between your thighs.
The sound ofthe book falling to the floor caused you to break apart. Erik gives you one morepeck and pulls away, picking up the book and flipping back to the questions asif nothing happened. Meanwhile you’re a panting mess lying on the couch.
“Come on lilbit, we gotta finish.”
Not wantingto move, you pout. “But-” He quickly interrupts.
“Ion wannahear that whining shit, you said you wanted to study so that’s what we doing.Sit ya thick ass up and get to work.”
“Ok” you sayin a hushed tone as you reluctantly sat up.
“Aight nextquestion…”
After a answeringa series of questions, getting only a few wrong and being subjected to Erik’sloud ass buzzing noise and the ones you got right, well… let’s just stay you’reglad you won’t really have to step out of the house for the week. You bothagreed to avoid kissing the lips to avoid further distraction. So, you had himkiss you in simpler places, your forehead, cheeks, the back of your hands. Butwhen he got to your neck and torso, you would’ve thought Erik was a wild animalthe way he marked you up. Dark hickies littered your neck and torso. What wassupposed to be a light peck and nibble, turn into a ravishing of your body. Hewas now examining his work with pride.
“And when wego out, you ain’t covering them shits either.” You scoff and roll your eyes asyou examine yourself in the mirror with horror.
“N’Jadaka Ican’t leave the house looking like this!”
“You thinkthat I give a fuck? Cause I don’t. You mine and everybody gonna know it. Andwhen they fade Imma put more on you.”
“Everybody oncampus already knows that I’m yourstrust me. You ain’t marking up my body no more nigga.”
“We’ll seebout that shit.” You make your way toward the couch with a yawn, ready to bedone with this study session. Your brain was officially fried, and you justwanted to go to bed.
“Aightprincess last question. You get this one right and I’ll pick where I get tokiss you ok?”
“Ok,” You sayready and nervous for the next question.
“What hormonehas rapid effects that are similar to effects associated with the activation ofthe sympathetic nervous system?”
You almostdrew a blank. You had studied the endocrine system from top to bottom and itwas just on the tip of your tongue.
“Thyroidhormone?”
There was along pause and you almost disappointed that you got it wrong until…
“YEAH BABY!HELLYEAH! WHO GETTING IN THAT NURSING PROGRAM? YOU GOT THAT SHIT IN THE BAG”his shouting startled you but excited you all the same. Erik picks you up andspins you around showering your face with kisses making you giggle. He settlesyou down to your feet and looks you deep in your eyes. His dark eyes staringinto the very depth of your soul.
“You got thisshit Y/N. No matter how much you doubt or worry or stress you one of thesmartest people I know. You getting ya ass in that program and you gon killthat shit. And know, no matter what happens, I got you, for life. You hear me?”
You stare upat him with tear in your eyes. You never thought it could be possible to lovein even more than you did in this moment. Struggling to find the words to say,you say the only words you can form. “I love you baby.”
“I love you more.Now lemme give you your reward. Lay down on the couch.”
You excitedlylay back look at Erik in all his glory. All you can think is how could you havegotten so lucky. You watch as he removes his hoodie with the shirt underneathto reveal his muscular form and scar riddled chest. You lick your lips inanticipation.
“You gon letDaddy reward you?” his voice was low and husky; his eyes were filled with lust.You bite your lower lip and nod your head.
“I need wordsbaby.”
“Yes please.”
He settles himselfbetween my legs like before. He places his lips on your and you start to kissback. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan into his mouth. Erikreleases your lips and trails more kisses down your neck, and you moan somemore. Everything about him drove you insane. You sit up and remove your shirtand bra. Erik immediately start put the left breast in his mouth, twirling histongue around the nipple letting the bud harden. You arch your back as he gentlybites the nipple.
“Ah!” yougasp.
“You alrightbabygirl.” Erik asks blowing air on the wet mound, making your nipple hardeneven more.
“Yes.”
He gives you anotherkiss, repeats the actions on the other breast. He works his way down, nippingand licking your torso until he gets to the top of your shorts. You sit up on yourforearms and watch with anticipation. Erik looks up and peers at you intently.
“You ready?”
“I’m ready” yousay breathlessly.
He begins toslide your shorts off at an agonizingly slow pace and to his delight, you weren’twearing any underwear. He throws your shorts to the floor.
“Look at thatshit,” he hissed, dragging a finger along your glistening slit and you moan at thetouch. “You so fuckin wet, who all this for?”
It’s for yo-fuuuckkkk” You were cut off as her slid a finger inside your core. He leans forward,brining his lips to your ear.
“I didn’thear you, who you said it was for.” His voice was even deeper, and it was drivingyou crazy as he start to pump his finger inside you, brushing your spot withevery movement. You moan louder
“It’s for youDaddy!” That gains a growl from him.
“That’sfuckin right!” He inserts another finger and pumps faster, massaging your clitwith his thumb. You were panting at this point, gripping the back of the couchholding on for dear life.
“It feels sogood.” You cried.
“You bout tofeel even better.” He sits up, removes his fingers, brings them to his mouth andstarts to suck every drop of your juices, never taking his eyes off you. Youshudder. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and licks his lips.
“Damn yousweet.”
He lower himselfbetween your legs and began to kiss your inner thighs, nipping all the way downto your core. He smacks a loud kiss right on your clit.
“MWAH! Love thatpussy!”
“Stop playin,E.” you giggled.
“Ain’t nobodyplayin. I’m showing this pussy some love, putting respect on her name.”
“Are youfinished or are you done?” you decided to go alone with the Bird Man reference.
He growls andyanks you toward him throwing your legs over his shoulders and began devouringyour pussy.
“Shit!”
He sucked onyour clit hard, swirling his tongue around it repeatedly. Erik dragged his tongueup and down dipping it inside your core every time. He lifted his face and spaton my clit, beard wet and all.
“Goddamn,”you say. “You so fuckin sexy keep doing that shit.”
“My pleasure.”
“Nigga thisain’t Chic-fil-a, eat my pussy!”
“You gon shutthat smart shit up Y/N keep playin.”
“Keep eatinand I won’t have nothing to say.”
He muttersabout having something for your ass later then lowers his head once again. Hebrought his face to your wetness once more and sucked on the clit while movingtwo fingers inside of you at a fast past. You gripped his dreads in one hand ashe curls his fingers to hit your spot once again.
“Fuck yess!” youscream feeling so close, you were almost there.
“Cum for mebabygirl, gimme that shit.” His words were more than enough to bring you to theedge. Your back arched as you moaned loudly, you could feel your wallstightening around his fingers. Erik lapped up your release, a deep growl camefrom his throat.
“So fuckin sweet.I’d eat you all day everyday if I could.” He kisses his way up your body as youpanted in exhaustion finally reaching your lips. He kissed you deeply dippinghis tongue in your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Hereleases you from his mouth and looks you in the eyes.
“You likeyour reward?” you smiled.
“Yes, thankyou study buddy.”
163 notes · View notes
zombiesbecrazy · 6 years
Text
Coffee Between Strangers
Summary: A cup of coffee sits between them and makes Clark question if he's ever really known the man across the desk from him at all.
BatWeek - Reverse Valentine’s - Day 1 Prompt - Philia
AO3
“Cream or sugar for your coffee, Mr. Kent?”
“Just some sugar, if it’s not too much trouble. Thank you.”
It wasn’t every day that Clark found himself in the office of the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and he was uncharacteristically nervous and was fidgeting in his chair without meaning to. It was ridiculous, because he was a professional journalist and interviewed people all the time and it was just Bruce, and not all at the same time, because even though it was just Bruce, it wasn’t.  
Not the Bruce that he knew, anyway.
This wasn’t Batman, the monosyllabic and dry colleague of Superman. Nor was it Bruce Wayne, playboy and philanthropist of Gotham.  This wasn’t even his good friend Bruce, who he considered to be like a brother; the person who he had gone camping with and had played endless games of Monopoly with his kids with.  If anything, this was Mr. Wayne, business mogul, and Perry had arranged this interview and sent Clark to discuss the new Wayne Enterprises partnership with Gordon Clean Energy and their new collaborative projects. Clark had spoken with Barbara earlier that morning and he hadn’t been anywhere as nervous as for that one even though he knew her less well. Barbara, Batgirl, Oracle… they all were at least aspects of the same person.
All of the different layers of Bruce just confused him and made him feel like he was going to trip over all of the woven layers.
The typing at the keyboard halted which lifted Clark from his thoughts as Bruce’s assistant came back with two cups of coffee and set them on the desk.  Bruce thanked her before shifting his attention to some paperwork on the desk and she the exited the room, closing the door behind her.
Clark stared at the cups in front of him for a few moments in silence while Bruce finished up whatever he was working on, an uneasy feeling building in the pit of his stomach. It was like he hadn’t even met the man before. Clark narrowed his eyes at Bruce. There were many things about him that were a mystery, but this was one of those things that Clark knew to his very core and it was off. Something was very, very wrong.
In this moment, the man on the other side of the desk, the one that Clark has known for over a decade, was a complete stranger to him.
“There’s cream in your coffee.”
Bruce shook his head slightly, not looking up from the paperwork. “Milk.” Clark eyed the cup skeptically as it mocked him with its light brown colour.
“I thought you drank your coffee black.”
Bruce sighed, flipped the document that he was reading closed and rubbed his eyes. He looked tired, but then again, Bruce always did if you knew what to look for. “No.”
Gritting his teeth to keep himself from dropping his jaw, Clark used his x-ray vision at the man across the table from him even though he knew that Bruce hated it when he did so. Clark had to take the chance though; this was a safety matter. He needed to be absolutely sure that this was Bruce, despite what his senses already told him. He needed to confirm that this wasn’t a robot or a clone or a shapeshifter who had infiltrated Bruce Wayne’s life and resources.
Bruce could thank him for his diligence later.
But there was nothing out of the ordinary. It looked like Bruce, inside and out. It had the same scars and skeletal structure. It had the same heartbeat. It had to be Bruce.
The cup of cooling coffee between them screamed differently at Clark.
He was an investigative journalist, darn it. He needed to dig deeper. “Can we speak candidly, Mr. Wayne?” The question sounded simple enough to any prying ears, but the underlying implication was clear. Bruce raised an eyebrow slightly at Clark’s words, before reaching up and hitting a button on his watch. Clark’s hearing picked up a slight buzz filling the room and Bruce nodded for Clark to ask his question freely.
“Since when do you take milk in your coffee?”
That was not the question that Bruce had been expecting. “Since I was 16,” he replied slowly.
“I’ve known you for years, can’t even count the amount of times that I’ve drank coffee with you if I tried, and it’s always been black.”
“Oh,” said Bruce, small smile lifting the corners of his lips. He cleared his throat quickly and the beginnings of the smile disappeared. “Batman drinks his coffee black. I take milk in mine.”
Clark opened his mouth to argue and found that he couldn’t. He had spent a lot of time in the manor and had gone out for food plenty of times with Bruce, but looking back on it he couldn’t think of a time that he had ever seen him drink coffee as Bruce; he drank a lot of tea and water and the occasional alcoholic drink but Clark was drawing a blank on coffee. Yes, they had coffee in the Cave and the Watchtower and the Fortress but… how had he never noticed this? It had always been as Batman, not Bruce. Upon realization that this wasn’t something that he could debate because the evidence just didn’t hold up, he just laughed nervously while Bruce studied him from across the table. “Wow. You really take this secret identity thing to a whole other level, don’t you?”
“It takes more than a pair of glasses and a hair curl to fool the world, Clark.”
Clark shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t my experience.” Not a day went by when Clark didn’t question how no one had linked him to Superman, but he was glad that the casual observer didn’t notice. Kids tended to recognize him, but they only ever smiled and maybe giggled if he winked at them, acknowledging the secret between them.
“Then how do you explain Clark Kent’s clumsiness? Or the sudden loss of Kansas accent when you are in the suit? You put on the same act as I do.”
“It’s not entirely an act. I’m clumsy as Superman too.”
“Rarely.”
“No, all the time. I just use my flight to cover it.”
To an outsider, it would look that Bruce didn’t react, but Clark knew better. He was the twitch near Bruce’s right eye and the way that his jaw clenched ever so slightly. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s harder to trip over your own feet if you are always slightly floating.” Clark tried to appear nonchalant, but knew that he failed miserably.
“Now I know you are joking.”
“Of course I am.” Clark chucked and tapped his fingers against his cup. “Sure, I play a bit of a role, but I apparently don’t go as far as you and change my coffee order.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Do you even like black coffee?”
“I’m not opposed to it.”
“That doesn’t mean you like it.” Bruce just stared blankly at him for a few moments before he raised his hand to his watch to deactivate the disrupter when Clark sat up straighter as his brain caught up to the words, causing Bruce to halt the motion in midair. “Wait, ‘it’s nothing’ as in you don’t really see the problem or ‘it’s nothing’ as in you’ve changed more drastic details about yourself as part of your cover? Things that you are the only one who would probably ever notice?”
“Both.”
Of course he had. “Geez, Bruce,” groaned Clark, because this man was impossible. “Like what?” Bruce remained impassive and Clark had to stop himself from reaching over the table to give him a shake. “Don’t look at me like that. These are things I should probably know so I don’t accidentally blow your cover because I don’t know how deep you’ve gone down the hole of changing your identity.”
“There is nothing that big…” Bruce trailed off and realization slowly dawned on his face. “There is one thing that could be compromising if you slipped up. Or you should know in case of emergency and you need to make a decision for me. Batman is right handed.”
“You’re left handed?” Clark looked at the desk between them and realizes that there are several pens on Bruce’s desk and they are all on the left hand side. “How have I never noticed that? It’s like you’re suddenly Inigo Montoya.”
“Or the Dread Pirate Roberts,” agreed Bruce with a nod. “I’m ambidextrous but left hand dominant. If anything ever arise that one of my hands needs to be amputated, make a note that I’d rather keep my left one if given the choice.” Bruce took another sip of that befuddling cup of coffee as if he hadn’t just dropped that casually into conversation as if he was telling Clark that he liked green grapes more than purple ones. “That is a pretty big thing to miss for an investigative journalist.”
How could you argue that with someone who did their best to be an enigma? “You are a strange and paranoid man.”
“That is not a recent development.”
“Just a statement of fact.” Clark shook his head and looked Bruce over again. He may have used the x-ray vision again, just to make sure. Still Bruce.
“You’re staring.”
“Because it’s like you are an entirely new person. I don’t know you at all. I’m a little dumbstruck.”
“You know me better than nearly everyone. Less than Alfred. Maybe more than Dick.”
“And yet I didn’t know you were left handed or how you like your coffee. After all these years.” Clark put his now empty cup back on the desk and leaned forward on it. “What else are you hiding? Just hit me with it all now. I’m jumping in the deep end.”
“I was in an improv comedy troupe.”
“Bull.”
“For six months as part of my training to learn how to be adaptable to any situation.”
“But you aren’t funny.”
“That’s subjective.” Bruce almost sounded hurt. “I was better at the dry, dark humour, not knock-knock jokes.”
“Of course you were.” In reality, Clark actually did think that Bruce had a wicked sense of humour, but the thought of him in a group of people, performing for laughs just couldn’t compute.
“All of this is off the record, by the way.”
Clark shook his head and waved his notepad and pen. “You have to say that at the beginning of the statement for it to count when it is a prearranged interview. I can see my next byline now. ‘Batman is Secretly Left Handed’. It’s going to be my big break, just you wait. I’m going put my Pulitzer in the Fortress, next to Candor.” Bruce sat back in his chair and glared at Clark, which just made him snicker. That look was at least one he recognized and saw frequently. The familiarity of Bruce’s annoyance felt good. “No one cares, Bruce.”
“Now who’s not being funny?”
“Lois thinks I’m funny.”
“She’s laughing at you, not with you.”
“Ouch. I better use my freeze breath to look after that burn.”
“Don’t get any ice on my desk.” Clark grinned and stared up at the ceiling as he rolled his eyes. That was the type of Bruce humour that made sense. “You are the most frustrating billionaire I’ve spoken to this week.”
“I’m more frustrating than Luthor?”
“I’ve haven’t spoken to him this week.”
“I saw you punch him yesterday.”
“Gee, I don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Wayne.” Clark adjusted his glasses carefully and shifted awkwardly in his seat, slipping into his regular role. “I did see that Mr. Luthor and Superman had an altercation recently while I was watching the news this morning but I, shy and unassuming Daily Planet reporter Clark Kent, haven’t spoken to him in months. Even if I did, at least I know how he takes his coffee. Lex likes mochas.”
“Seriously, Clark?”
“And you tried to say I wasn’t funny.” Clark thought back to the beginning of the conversation and remember something that Bruce had said about him. “You do the accent thing, too. That isn’t just me.”
“Voice modulation doesn’t count as an accent.”
“No, I mean…” Now it was Clark’s turn to trail off, because no. He had to know, right? Bruce’s expression was curious. Oh, he didn’t know. How could he not know? “You don’t realize you have an accent?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You speak differently depending on where you are, out of the cowl. I don’t mean the context, either. I mean your accent.” Bruce’s expression didn’t change, and Clark had to explain himself if this was going to make any sort of sense. “When you are being Bruce Wayne, like right now, you sound very posh, but generically North Eastern United States. Same when you are out of costume with the League.”
“Yes, that is how I speak, Clark. Because that is my voice.” said Bruce slowly, in exactly the accent that Clark had described.
“Nope. You speak differently at home.” Bruce’s eye twitched microscopically again. “It also comes out when you are injured or overtired but you have to be pretty out of it for it to slip through. I think only Diana and I have heard it outside your family.”
“I don’t.”
“You do. You sound…” Clark paused to think of the right way to phrase it. “Well, you sound a little British if I’m going to be honest. Inflexion. Tone. Lilt. Word choice. Mostly word choice.” He grinned the more that he thought about the first example that came to his mind. “Do you know that the first time I stayed overnight at the manor I couldn’t find my guest room because you told me it was on the second floor?”
“Your guest room is on the second floor.”
“No, it’s on the third. We’re in America, Bruce. Ground floor, second floor, third floor.” The grin on Clark’s face broke into a full smile as he started to chuckle. “Dick laughed at me for a solid twenty minutes when I had to ask for help when he found me wandering around hopelessly. He still laughs about it sometimes.”
“I suppose I can see that. I was mostly raised by Alfred. It must have rubbed off on me.”
“You also use biscuits for cookies and crisps for chips. Alfred is definitely to blame.” Clark was still chuckling to himself, but as he watched Bruce, Clark could almost see him forming plans to break the habits that he just mentioned because he was now aware of them. “Don’t start acting self-conscious about it now. I can see your brain over thinking. It isn’t something that you need to change to protect your cover.”
“But…”
“No.” Clark shook his head firmly. “It’s a Bruce thing. The real you. Not one of your masks. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are at home. Not from your family and not from me. Do you understand?”
“I…” Clark glared at him and Bruce cut himself off. “Yes, Clark,” he grumbled. “I hate it when you do that. Give me a Superman pep talk. Even a short one.”
“Excuse you. That was a Clark Kent pep talk. The Kansas accent was intact.” Bruce snorted and Clark beamed back. “And speaking of Clark Kent, he really needs to get a quote from you about this new green partnership agreement with GCE so that he can continue to get a paycheck from the Planet and pay for groceries.” He pulled out his phone to record and Bruce nodded and tapped his watch again, buzz of the disrupter disappearing.
They were back on the record.
As soon as he did, Clark could practically see the shield of Bruce Wayne, businessman, come back onto the face of the man across from him, but maybe he was able to see a version of his friend, his brother, a little better through it than he could before.
Maybe they both knew each other a little better now, even if it was something small like this.
And the next time Superman brought Batman a coffee, maybe he’d pass it to his left and add a little milk and make sure that the lid was secure so that no one could make the connection.
202 notes · View notes
marinsawakening · 5 years
Note
About arospec headcannon thing anyone from FMA of your choice and a character from a series/book that you have enjoying latelly!
“character from a series/book that you have enjoying latelly” bold of you to assume I’ve had the attention span to be reading anything anon. the only thing I’ve been reading lately is ‘The Bacchae and Other Works’, demonstrating that I can, in fact, be a smart literary reader every once in a while, but the only play I’ve finished is Ion, and like… sure Athena is aro, but I also feel like headcanoning a greek god as aro is kinda cheating, but in the spirit of ancient greek myths, I’ll be doing my fave aro headcanon, Percy Jackson. He’s going under the cut though, because Ed’s turned out… long. Sorry about that.
Anyway, from FMA, I’m (predicatably) picking Edward Elric, because I can’t and won’t stop:
What arospec identities do they have? (Can be as specific or vague as desired)
I generally headcanon Ed as nebularomantic, though I also really really like the headcanon of him having my exact aro experience because honestly, I like projecting onto him. But I usually go with nebularomantic because I feel like the headcanon possibilities for that are more interesting, so I’ll go with that in this post.
(Or arovague, a little more, maybe? He’s nebularomantic in the sense that a) alexithymia makes figuring out whether he’s feeling platonic or romantic attraction pretty much impossible, and b) he feels like he doesn’t really fit into society’s ideas of romance due to it heavily being tied up into neurotypical standards, and finds the concept of romantic relationships/romantic attraction somewhat inaccessible to him as a result. So he’s kind of a mix between nebularomantic, quoiromantic with the ‘disidentifies with the concept of romantic attraction’ definition, and arovague, I guess, but I think he’d just use nebularomantic because it’s easier and it still encompasses his experiences very well.)
How proud of being arospec are they?
Pretty proud, if only because he knows it pisses people off and he loves doing that. He’s not dropping it into every conversation ever, but he definitely has a couple pins and shows up at pride with the flag painted on his cheeks.
Do they prioritize their arospec identity over any others?
I’d say that on the Minority Identity tier, it’s probably his least important identity to him, definitely after autistic/ADHD (kind of the same thing to him) and nonbinary. It’s still pretty important to him, though. Maybe the only thing he prioritizes it over might be his amputee status, mostly because, since he grew up with a bunch of automail engineers and later living in Rush Valley with Paninya and Winry for a long while, amputees have kinda become the norm for him. However, I can also see that, due to the Circumstances surrounding the loss of his limbs, he might prioritize his physical disability anyway, because he’s had to learn to take pride in it, whereas for the nebularomanticism, that came pretty naturally.
Are they out? If so, how did they come out, and to whom?
He’s out to pretty much everyone, although the only people he actually sat down and had a conversation with were Winry, Paninya, and Al. Winry because she helped him figure out he wasn’t allo (even if he couldn’t pin down his specific aro identity), and Paninya because he brought it up when he proposed starting a qpr to sort of close a sort of ‘qpr’ triad between him, Winry, and Paninya. Al also knows because Ed talked his feelings over with him when he was still questioning, and then Mei found the identity ‘nebularomantic’ and told Al, who told Ed, and that’s how Ed figured out his identity.
How do they feel about romance? Romance-favorable? Romance-neutral? Romance-repulsed? Or does it fluctuate?
Romance-neutral, largely. I mean, he’s married, so that counts as romance-favourable probably, but honestly? He’s mostly neutral to the concept of romance because he doesn’t understand why it exists. It’s pretty much impossible for him to separate neurotypical expectations of romance and love from the concept of romantic relationships/romantic attraction in general, and this was one of the main reasons he and Winry decided to change their relationship from ‘romantic’ to ‘idk what but we’re definitely important to another/queerplatonic-ish’; he constantly felt like he was failing in romance, and Winry had a bit of trouble adjusting her expectations from a generic romantic relationship to one with Ed once they moved from a long distance relationship to a short distance one, so they felt like it was best to change the label. But that said, he’s not repulsed, and he’s not necessarily opposed to the concept of a romantic relationship, he just doesn’t really understand why that exists and has trouble living up to the neurotypical standards it generally entails.
Have they ever experienced arophobia? If so, how?
Some mild stuff, but nothing extreme. He married Winry fairly young, so that warred off all the ‘I can fix you/you need to be fixed’ and ‘you’re horrible and are going to die alone!’ flavours of arophobia, but at the same time, the fact that he married her means that a lot of people deny, ignore, and/or erase his arospec identity. Even showing up in public with an aro/nebularomantic pride flag doesn’t stop people from ignoring it. Since he’s a pretty high-profile figure, this means that it’s especially noticeable.
In addition, he’s also faced some ableist-specific arophobia in people saying that he just doesn’t understand romantic attraction because he’s autistic/ADHD, which, yeah, duh, that’s why he identifies as nebula? But people use that to deny his identity, saying that his aro identity isn’t real because it’s caused/affected by his neurodivergency, or that it must be fixed with therapy. He generally punches those people in the face and they shut up really quickly.
How do they show their arospec pride?
Like I said, he goes to pride and paints his cheeks in the nebularomantic/aromantic pride colours (one on each cheek), and he doesn’t shy away from talking about it in day-to-day life. On the rare occasion that he makes a public appearance such as an interview or as a gala attendee (mostly when he’s lost a bet to Mustang or Ling), he usually takes either a small or big flag with him (depending on the mood he’s in), just to smirk when people get awkward or try to ignore it.
Do they actively try to combat amatonormativity in their daily lives or elsewhere? If so, how?
He constantly corrects people if they call Winry his wife (yes, they’re partners, and yes, they’re married, but ‘wife’ specifically has connotations to him that he doesn’t like), constantly corrects them if they assume he’s alloro, and just generally is an obnoxious arospec fuck who’s not going to let any part of his arospec identity get erased.
Was it easy for them to label themselves arospec, or was there a long period of questioning? How many labels did they have to try before landing on the one they use now?
The questioning process took pretty long, both due to the complicated nature of his identity and alexithymia hindering the process. As I already said, it’s pretty much impossible for him to distinguish neurotypical expectations of romance from romantic attraction/relationships, but he was also aware that societal expectations =/= romantic attraction at its core, so he didn’t know if his confusion surrounding the matter was enough to make him anything but allo. Furthermore, there was the fact that alexithymia made trying to figure out whether what he was feeling was platonic or romantic pretty much impossible: he could barely figure out if he was feeling hungry, fuck if he knew he was having a squish or a crush. There was also the obvious fact that yup, he sure married Winry, and he didn’t want to divorce her because he did want to be in some kind of relationship, but he didn’t know if that was because he was feeling any kind of romantic (or platonic, for that matter) attraction, or because he simply felt at home with her, and yes he did consider that the ‘at home’ feeling might’ve been romantic, but probably not, since he also feels it with Al, but then again it was still very much different with Al, so maybe…?
Anyway, you get the point. Questioning was long and messy, and eventually came to a head when Winry basically said ‘look listen I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you promised not to keep me in the dark anymore, so spit it out’ so he did and she basically said ‘well in my expert alloromantic opinion that’s not very allo’ and he went ‘oh. shit. why didn’t I ask you earlier’ (it was because he’s the world’s smartest idiot). So they sat down and figured things out, and eventually agreed that it would be best if they ‘cancelled’ the romance aspect of their relationship for now, just to figure out what would work for them.
Also Mei was actually the one who found the term ‘nebularomantic’ way later, when she was researching arospec identities after her and Al’s relationship crashed and burned horribly (she definitely has access to a huge library of queer identities in Ling’s palace shut up), and Al heard her say the definition and he went ‘oh shit that’s my brother’, so then he called Ed and that’s how Ed came to identify as nebularomantic.
Would they be interested in a QPR? Why or why not?
He’s in a queerplatonic triad with Winry and Paninya! The relationship is actually kind of complicated, with Winry and Paninya being in a romantic relationship, Ed and Winry being in a committed relationship they’re chosing not to label at the moment, and Paninya and Ed being in the world’s most casual qpr, but the three of them call their triad ‘queerplatonic’ to simplify stuff. He probably wouldn’t necessarily search out a qpr, I think, but he very much loves people (regardless of whether or not it’s platonic or romantic or something else entirely), and he does like living with other people, so he’d probably have fallen into one naturally anyway, even if canon hadn’t played out the way it did.
Final thoughts?
If you think that I won’t headcanon someone as arospec just because they married and had kids at the end of the series then you’re so fucking mistaken.
What arospec identities do they have? (Can be as specific or vague as desired)
Percy’s demiromantic!
How proud of being arospec are they?
Very proud! If you think he ever stops making demi jokes, you are very very wrong. He goes to pride, has pins, has a flag up in his room, and generally won’t shut up about it.
Do they prioritize their arospec identity over any others?
Somewhat! He’s both demisexual and demiromantic, and he doesn’t necessarily separate those two out, but he does prioritize both of those over his demiboy identity, though that’s definitely important to him too and he’s proud of that as well (plus, he appreciates the pun material).
Are they out? If so, how did they come out, and to whom?
He’s out! After he figured it out the first thing he did was kick Annabeth’s door open and go ‘Annabeth Holy Fuck!’, so she knows. His mom and Paul know, because he actually had a Serious Coming Out conversation with them (he knew they’d take it well, but still). Everyone else at camp also knows, because he won’t shut up about it, and also like everyone at Camp Halfblood is queer as fuck, so they just kind of expected something like this sooner or later. The puns are an unwelcome surprise, though.
How do they feel about romance? Romance-favorable? Romance-neutral? Romance-repulsed? Or does it fluctuate?
None of the above, he’s very firmly romance oblivious. He’s not going to catch you flirting with him, he WILL read over romance subplots without picking up on them, he is always the last to catch on to relationships his friends have started, etc. etc. He’s romance-favourable in the sense that he’s currently in a romantic relationship with Annabeth, but honestly, I don’t think he cares enough about romance to use any of the above labels.
Have they ever experienced arophobia? If so, how?
Yeah, he’s had a bunch of assholes tell him that he’s just straight, or that he needs to use demi as a modifier, or that demiromanticism doesn’t exist, etc. etc. However, he’s been lucky enough to have a supportive family and a queer as fuck friendgroup, so it hasn’t been as bad as it could’ve been and he’s had a lot of support.
How do they show their arospec pride?
PUNS (IN THE FORM OF DEMI- JOKES). SO MANY FUCKING PUNS. NEITHER HE NOR I WILL SHUT UP ABOUT THE PUNS.
Do they actively try to combat amatonormativity in their daily lives or elsewhere? If so, how?
Sort of? He’s loudly demi, which combats amatonormativity pretty much automatically, but he’s not exactly the type to go around educating everyone about the concept of amatonormativity or anything. That’s what Annabeth is for.
Was it easy for them to label themselves arospec, or was there a long period of questioning? How many labels did they have to try before landing on the one they use now?
Honestly, he just sort of assumed that the world was playing a prank on him regarding this ‘falling in love at first sight’ thing, or in general, this ‘falling in love’ thing. He’s never had a crush on anyone before Annabeth, and was honestly halfway convinced that the concept was fake until her, but he also never really analyzed that? He just kind of… assumed that was normal. Calypso was the first real wrench in that theory, but he chalked it up to her being not human and went about his life.
Aaand then he overheard someone talking about being demi, got massively confused for a second, asked for clarification before, you know, calling a satyr, and realized ‘oh hey that’s me!’.
So all in all, the questioning process was pretty straight forward, just hampered by him being very oblivious.
Would they be interested in a QPR? Why or why not?
Hmmm, maybe? I think he’s satisfied with his romantic relationship with Annabeth, but I also don’t necessarily think he’d be opposed to one. I don’t think he’d search one out, but if someone asked, he’d probably be willing to give it a go.
Final thoughts?
This was my first ever aro headcanon and I can and WILL die on this hill.
9 notes · View notes
kyluxtrashpit · 6 years
Note
For the writing game, I couldn't decide which, all the colors please? They're so interesting!
Omg I was so excited when I saw this! You’re so sweet to enable my rambling
Red: What type of writer’s block do you experience the most?
I guess the most common one is I get stuck in transitions. Like I know how this scene goes and I know how the next scene goes, but I don’t know exactly how to get from A to B and it’s one of those cases where I can’t just put a line and jump to it. Scene transitions are one of the hardest things for me for some reason. The second most common for me is probably when my brain is being a shit and won’t let me be productive due to some sort of emotional crisis lmao
White: Are you a supporter/lover of fanfiction?
I mean, kind of obvious lmao, but absolutely. I think it’s great that there are people who are creating things solely out of love for something, and that’s really what fanfiction is, at it’s deepest core. It’s a community of people being so enthusiastic about and loving something so hard that they work their asses of and dedicate time to just… making more of it. For no real external benefit other than some social validation, if they’re lucky. Love and passion are the true motivators and idk that’s just really beautiful to me
Black: Would you want to live in one of the fictional worlds you’vecreated?
I don’t really do a lot of worldbuilding because I find it incredibly boring and I’m terrible at it lmao, but since I always write either canon-verse or modern au, I’m going to treat this as ‘do I want to live in the Star Wars universe?’. And the answer to that would honestly be no. As much as there’s cool stuff, like advanced technology and aliens and maybe I’d be lucky enough to be able to move shit with my mind, there’s also a lot of bad things. A lot of fascism, a lot of wars, and every once in a while some asshole builds a planet-destroying superweapon and blows up a planet (or 5) and like… I could live on one of those, you know
That said, if I didn’t die because the planet I was living on exploded, I would probably survive alright. I mean, my background is in science, so tbh I might have better opportunities there than I do here. While that could mean making chemical weapons or something if the Empire was in power, that’s at least more interesting than customer service at a chemical company lmao. I still wouldn’t choose to live there, but I think I’d manage okay if I had to
[More beneath the cut - my sincerest apologies to those on mobile]
Blue: What’s more important to you: characters or plot?
I mean, they both definitely matter, but if I have to choose? Interesting characters can save a dry plot, but the best plot ever written will still be mediocre at best if the characters aren’t compelling. Personally, I love character-driven stories more than anything. Event-driven plots can still be fun, but I prefer the focus to be on how the characters are dealing with said events, as opposed to them just being passively driven along by them. The best is when it’s the characters themselves driving the events of the plot, but that’s more difficult to execute than it sounds. Regardless, it’s the characters that usually draw me into a story in the first place and that keep me interested. And from the perspective of my own writing, I go character-driven, all the way. Sure, some event might happen that drives the plot sometimes, but I’m far more interested in how the characters react to that event than anything else
Yellow: What’s a common writing tip that you mostly ignore?
In terms of writing advice, nothing makes my blood boil more than those posts that say ‘get rid of this entire class of words’ or ‘if it’s not absolutely strictly necessary to the plot, cut it’. Fuck that shit. If you want your writing to look like Hemingway, sure, go for it, but a) Hemingway is overrated, and b) that’s not the only way to write well. Especially as someone who tends to focus on characters, passages that aren’t necessary to the plot may be necessary to establish characterization. Or they may add some emotion to the story that gets the reader invested. Same with wording choices; more or less words can drastically change the tone or mood of the scene. Are there times when you need to cut words and keep things concise? Absolutely, but any writing tip that says ‘remove every instance of [word] in your document’ is fucking bullshit and you should never listen to it
Grey: What’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?
Tbh I think every writing tip you see should always be taken with a grain of salt, especially if it’s a ‘never do x’ because there is almost always a situation where doing x is the right thing to do, it’s just a matter of knowing how to do it correctly (looking at you, ‘never use the passive voice’). So really, there are very few I always follow, but I’ll give one that was foundationally helpful for me
Edit in a different format than you write. That can be changing the text size, or the font, or printing it out physically, or whatever. For me, I usually pop it into AO3′s preview function and take notes of things that need changing as I go. It forces your brain to notice things it’s been overlooking for the entire writing period. I only do my final edit this way, generally speaking, but I’ve found it to be incredibly helpful for catching typos and general weirdness in the writing
Orange: How many projects do you usually have going at once?
Because my fics are usually short, I tend to only have 1, but I think I’ve had up to 3-4 before. That’s basically me just popping between documents everytime I get stuck on one until one is finished lmao. But more than 2 gets to be a lot to handle
Currently, I’m really only working on my Big Bang fic, though I do have at least one one-shot I’m planning to write when I need a short break from it
Pink: Which of your characters would become your best friend?
This is so hard because like, I don’t get along with a lot of people generally speaking. I’m also going to treat this as the entire SW cast even though I only write Kylo and Hux, for the most part. And I’m not sure I’d be good friends with either of them. While Kylo would make an excellent self-destruction buddy, I think we’re too similar for the most part to get along. And while I also have an element of Hux in me that’s my anal retentiveness when it comes to organization (not to be confused with cleanliness; I’m talking more about my colour-coded work email and my nested folder system on my computer), I’m also very emotional, messy, and I’m not really equipped to verbally spar with him. I think I would actually do okay with Hux as a boss, not a friend, but with Kylo, I think we’d get along really well until we really didn’t. And then I would be dead lmao
Aaaand none of that was an actual answer. But like, I honestly don’t know? Most of the other characters I really like (e.g. Rey, Rae Sloane, Ventress), it’s because I would have a big huge crush on them which would manifest as my hovering in their vicinity a lot but never actually starting a conversation and then waxing poetic while crying about my unrequited love when I continue to go unnoticed lmao. Which is, well, still not friendship
Maybe Finn… I might get along really well with Finn. He’s one of my favourites as well and I think he’d be really interesting to talk to. Has a lot of interesting views on things, likely a good listener. Hm. I’m still not 100% solid on it, but after far too many words, that’s my answer lmao
Purple: Which of your characters would become your sworn enemy?
Okay, hear me out on this one because the reason isn’t what you think lmao. I’m also treating this less as ‘sworn enemy’ and more ‘person I’d least get along with’ and that’s actually Poe. And the reason is that highly extroverted, extremely friendly people who others call charismatic tend to rub me the wrong way. Like there’s nothing wrong with them, they’re perfectly nice, but they’re just too friendly and my socially-inept, introverted brain always responds to that with DANGER DANGER. And I think he would definitely fall into that category for me haha
Green: Pencil, typewriter, or computer?
Computer. I have written fic by hand before (I also sometimes do planning by hand, just because it can be a bit more visual; Fractured was planned largely by hand when I used to work evenings at a gym and had access to unlimited spare paper), but that’s usually only when I have nothing else to work with. I wrote most of a fic in the Halifax airport on a layover, once. I’ve also done it on my phone, but that’s too fucking annoying lmao. Typerwriters are super fun to use but also very impractical for me; my typing accuracy isn’t good enough
Brown: Do you have a set writing space? Or do you write everywhere?
Mostly I’m at home on my couch, but that’s really cause I have nowhere else to write. I do write at work sometimes (not smut though lmao), but only when it’s slow enough that I can get away with it. And there’s nowhere else I really go where I’m sitting with a computer for long periods of time
Silver: Are you comfortable writing in public places?
I am, yeah. I don’t know why I wouldn’t be tbh. Work is a public place and the only reason I don’t write smut there is because I don’t want to get fired lmao (slacking off is one thing, porn is another). I don’t really ever write in public, but that’s more because I don’t spend a lot of time sitting in public places by myself
Gold: Do your stories usually contain lessons or morals?
Not really… I can’t think of any at least. They always have some sort of closure, though, because I fucking hate open-ended stuff where everything isn’t worked out in the end lmao (or is at least on it’s way there). I’m too fragile for that shit haha
Clear: Do your characters control where the story goes or do youmaintain control?
I tend to write more like an rper than an actual author, based on conversations I’ve had with others, so my characters have a lot of control. That said, if you’ve got your plot and all the major points of it planned out and then you get halfway through and find it doesn’t work because of the characters, then that’s a failure in planning, not the characters taking control. Sometimes things do change and are reworked as you go, that’s the nature of writing, but that still means your plan needed some adjusting, you just didn’t know it at the time. I intentionally leave a lot of room in my plans for the characters (e.g. ‘and then they talk about [blank]. Hux says something mean and Kylo gets angry’ might be my only note for an entire scene), but if you’ve planned enough to actually start writing, your characters and plot should already work together. Characters control the minor details of the story, not the major plot
Tan: Are you open to co-writing a story?
I might be. I’ve never done it before and the Big Bang I’m doing now is the most collaborative thing I’ve ever done writing-wise. If someone approached me and was really interested in it, I might be willing to give it a shot. I’m not really sure how it works, though. I tend to envision it as basically an rp except it’s planned out beforehand and then edited afterwards, but in all honesty, I have no idea how it actually goes
3 notes · View notes