#happy valentines day i bring an offering of sin

[tickly-tufts]

Entertainment (N$FW)

@tickles-tea ordered a MEAN serving of spice… so this one is for the hardcore 18+ knismos

—————

CONTAINS: bondage, nudity, non-consensual tickling, forced orgasm

—————

The Tickler.

He’d been knocked out and kidnapped by the Tickler.

Miguel had always known his luck was bad, but the multiverse had to be mocking him at that point. It’d looked like such an easy mission, too, which was why he’d opted to go alone… except this variant was no common thief. If only he'd realized before it was too late.

He didn’t know where the villain had taken him, but it must’ve been some kind of personal base. Heavy metal clamps had been locked around his limbs, raising his arms and spreading his legs into a kneel-like position. He was fully elevated off the ground, held slightly below his usual eye-level, and while his hands and feet were technically free, he couldn’t reach anything with his talons.

And as if all of that weren’t bad enough... he’d been stripped right down to his boxers. Lyla would never let him live this down… although, she'd have to reconnect with him first. Miguel felt a stab of unease at the thought.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, the Tickler making their official entrance. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long! I was just gathering a few of my tools.” Miguel glanced warily at the bag in their hands, which they proceeded to set on a nearby table. Then they faced him, beaming brightly. It was as unsettling as it was irritating.

“Let me go,” Miguel snarled, flashing his fangs as a threat. Rather than being intimidated, though, his captor simply looked intrigued.

“And why would I do that?” they countered simply. “It was so much trouble getting you down here. But now I have you all to myself, and I intend to make the most of it~”

The tone in which those last words were delivered was almost enough to make Miguel shudder. Without his watch, his suit, or even his clothes, he knew he was in a dangerous position. Variants of the Tickler were generally just a nuisance, but this one had defied every convention thus far.

“What do you even want from me? Information? Ransom?”

“Entertainment.”

Of all the answers they possibly could’ve given… that one promised to be the worst.

—

The Tickler’s very first tools of choice were a pair of mini feather dusters. They fluttered them around Miguel’s neck first, pouting when Miguel refused to give in.

“Aw, don’t pretend it doesn’t tickle! I can see your mouth twitching. Being stubborn won’t help.” They scoffed when Miguel pressed his lips into a line. “Well, can’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”

Miguel had hoped to hold out longer, but then the dusters were tickling right under his arms. The feathers were silky against his bare hollows. He promptly burst into a fit of giggles.

“That’s more like it!” the Tickler preened, speeding up when they noticed Miguel’s arms were shaking. “Those muscles aren’t doing much for you, huh? Sure made you look tempting, though,” they winked.

The feathers really shouldn’t have been that bad, and yet the light tickling soon proved to be maddening. Every fiber of Miguel’s being urged him to twist away, to just lower his arms… but the clamps held firm.

“Knohock it ohohoff!” he tried to growl, though the effect was ruined by his giggling.

“Hm? Did you wanna switch things up already?” The Tickler dropped both dusters… then dove in with their fingers.

“AGH!” Miguel choked, then burst into laughter, unable to resist the Tickler’s expert touch. Manicured nails scratched and skittered with glee, unhindered by the hero’s biceps straining above them. “Dohon’t- noHOHO!” The villain’s fingers vibrated against the center of each underarm. Just when Miguel thought to try and bite them, the Tickler’s hands migrated downwards.

“Bet your ribs are ticklish, too!” This was quickly confirmed with a few clawing motions. “But honestly… I’m more interested in these abs.” Miguel flinched when the Tickler’s fingertips trailed lower. He couldn’t back up, so he tried sucking in when the villain began tracing along said abs. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t help, and he flushed when he noticed the Tickler’s amusement.

The tracing didn’t last very long, as the Tickler inevitably escalated. Two hands were soon dancing across Miguel’s midriff, spurred on by the peals of laughter that followed. Nails sunk into his lower belly when the softness there proved especially exploitable. The accompanying taunts about his ticklish tummy only exacerbated his embarrassment.

Targeting his navel next, the Tickler teased a finger around the rim. “Oh, I’ve got just the thing for this!” they said as they reached into their pocket. Miguel blanched when they revealed a lone feather, smaller yet fluffier than those on the dusters. “Any last words?” the Tickler asked, the puff far more threatening than it should’ve been.

Miguel had been doing his best to ignore it, but anxiety began to creep up on him. His life didn't seem to be at any risk, but… how long would he have to endure this? Did anyone know that he’d been kidnapped? How would they locate him once they’d realized?

For better or worse, these thoughts ground to a halt as soon as the feather slipped into his navel.

“Shit!” Miguel cursed before falling apart, the feather tickling more than he’d dared to imagine. He felt every bit of it against his skin, absurdly soft and endlessly swirling.

“Sometimes you just can’t beat the classics!” the Tickler spoke as if making conversation. “There’s just nothing as simple yet effective as a feather. Don’t you agree, Spiderman?”

The tickling continued for a full minute, during which Miguel struggled to catch his breath. When the villain finally did step back, they didn’t take their implement with them.

“Gehet it ohohout!” Miguel squirmed, still overly aware of the feather’s presence. The Tickler simply gave it another twirl. “¡AY- BASTARDO!”

“Seems perfect where it is~”

With that, the Tickler happily moved on, forcing Miguel to cope with yet another indignity. Even just panting made the feather’s fronds shift, tickling enough that Miguel struggled to stop smiling.

“You’ve just got the cutest little waist,” the Tickler teased next, pinching Miguel’s sides. “And nice hips, too,” they continued, dropping down to give those a squeeze. “Ohh, you like that?” they observed when Miguel jolted at the action. He cackled when they dug into the dips, thumbs rubbing firm and relentless circles.

“Heh, I knew you’d be super ticklish. Got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. The second I saw you, I could tell you’d be fun… but somehow, you’re even more ticklish than I thought!” Against his best efforts, Miguel blushed, much to the Tickler’s obvious delight. Even worse, their gaze soon wandered down to Miguel’s parted thighs.

They reached out both hands to knead the thick muscles, grinning when they were rewarded with a screech. “Did I hit a sweet spot?” the Tickler mused. “Let’s see how loud you can really get~”

“¡MIERDA! NOHOHO!” Miguel writhed as the Tickler honed in on his inner thighs. They scribbled their way down to his knees, then lightly pinched a path back upwards. As they neared the top, they switched scratching, which proved ruthlessly effective. Then they slipped past the edges of his boxers, burrowing right into the creases of his thighs. “SHOCK! DOHOHON’T-!” was all Miguel managed, before he lost the ability to form words. The laughter that followed was nothing short of frenzied, and soon enough, there were tears welling up in his eyes.

The Tickler lingered there for what seemed an eternity, right at the edges of Miguel’s boxers. It was only when something new caught their eye that they stopped… then smirked openly. “Well, looks like someone’s getting excited. Are you actually enjoying this?”

Miguel’s face burned when he realized what they meant. Despite everything… he was getting hard.

The physical response was involuntary, of course. Almost unavoidable, which the Tickler knew. The captive hero’s humiliation was a treat, though, and they fully intended to savor it. Following the outline of Miguel’s cock, the Tickler started teasing him through his boxers.

“No!” Miguel gasped, trying to jerk backwards, but there was simply no getting away.

It tickled more than it had any right to. His boxers might’ve even made it worse. The villain’s fingers slid over the material with ease, skimming ticklishly along his length.

“Stohohop! STOHOP!” he ordered frantically, unable to resist the stimulation. It would’ve been nice if it weren’t a blatant violation… and it was only going to get worse.

“Alright, that should be enough for now.” The Tickler withdrew sooner than expected. But then, before Miguel could relax, they pulled out a small blade and slashed right through the fabric. Just like that, Miguel was exposed, his only scrap of clothing falling off in tatters. “Time for some attention in the back!” Miguel’s heart plummeted in his chest.

Skipping out of Miguel’s line of sight, the Tickler soon whistled appreciatively behind him. “And I thought the view from the front was great. Ever think of modeling instead of being a hero?” What came next should’ve been predictable, yet it still managed to catch Miguel off guard. Fingers pinched playfully at his ass… and because everything was against him, even that tickled.

“Was that a squeak?” His captor sounded gleeful. “I was so hoping you’d be ticklish back here!” Then hands were massaging both his cheeks, and Miguel could only cackle through his mortification.

It was ridiculous, humiliating, and only got worse when one of the feather dusters reappeared. Miguel couldn’t see it, but he could certainly feel it, laughter pitching higher at the soft sensation. The Tickler was thorough in their ministrations, dusting all over Miguel’s rear. They attacked from every angle, until inevitably-

“AH! Not there!”

Miguel froze, pure dread flooding in as soon as he realized his mistake. Deathly silence followed… tension building… with every second that ticked by. He was doomed. They both knew it. The suspense was entirely unnecessary. Even so, the Tickler made him wait…

Until the feather duster was right between his cheeks.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” The villain taunted as Miguel exploded into helpless hysterics. They used one hand to spread him further while the other continued wiggling the duster. The motion was overwhelmingly ticklish, enough for the tears in Miguel’s eyes to spill over. They rolled down his face as he wrenched at his bonds, unable to find even a second of relief.

Miguel’s composure collapsed further when the feathering migrated towards his front. Sliding down his cleft and across his taint, it was clear where the Tickler was headed next. They took a quick detour at his thighs, just to goad him that much more. It was only when Miguel was ready to snap that the duster finally settled over his cock.

“¡PUTA MADRE!” he swore violently, before mirth fully overtook him. Feathers enveloped his testicles, along with a good portion of his shaft. It was then that the second duster returned, fluttering directly over his head. With that, his whole length was nestled in softness, ticklish plumes caressing every inch.

“Such a feather-ticklish cock~” the villain cooed over Miguel���s anguish. “I could just stay right here forever~” They wiggled the dusters even faster.

“SH- NOHO-!” Miguel struggled to speak, to say anything that might earn him a reprieve. “P-Plehehease!” he finally cracked, too flustered to maintain the illusion of pride.

“What was that?” The Tickler lit up. “Could you say that again for me, Spiderman?”

Begging felt like giving up, but what choice did really he have?

"Please!" he repeated in English first, and when that wasn't enough, he fell into Spanish. "¡Por favor, no puedo más!" Each appeal was an uphill battle through laughter. The Tickler basked in his desperation, drawing it out until they were satisfied. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose we are due for a little break."

Little proved to be an understatement. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few moments. Once Miguel was no longer on the verge of passing out, the Tickler resumed, focus still between his legs. Embarrassingly, Miguel was erect, the array of feathers having done their job.

“How rude of me, leaving you like this… It’s only right that I finish what I started.”

Miguel didn’t like the sound of that at all.

The Tickler turned toward the bag they’d brought, rummaging around inside for a bit. “Ah, here we are!” They spun back around… donning a pair of sleek, furry gloves.

“Don’t-“ Miguel’s voice shook. “Please… don’t.”

With a terrifyingly innocent smile, the Tickler reached down and started rubbing.

Miguel shrieked. That was the only word for it. Every touch of the gloves tickled like hell. Every stroke and fondle was accompanied by fur, equal parts titillating and torturous.

“This material’s actually an invention of mine,” the Tickler admitted casually. “I designed it to be soft, exactly as instructed, but all our testers said it was unbearable on skin.” The Tickler circled the tip of Miguel’s cock with a single fluffy finger. “They were right, of course, but I’d put in so much work. I couldn’t just let it go to waste.”

Eventually, just as promised, Miguel came in spite of himself. The Tickler didn’t halt at all in their motions, rubbing Miguel through his moaning, sobbing laughter.

“Fun fact,” they announced once Miguel was spent. “Sensitivity tends to spike right after an orgasm.”

Miguel couldn’t keep himself from trembling, cock still resting in the villain’s gloved palm.

“Please… there has to be something else you want…” Something, anything beyond making him suffer.

“Aww, poor thing,” the villain commiserated, before their smirk returned in full force. “Unfortunately for you, this is all I want, and we still have so many toys to try. Now, cry pretty for me, alright?”

Miguel let out a broken whimper.

—

Spiderman did not kill. No matter the villain, no matter their actions, killing was simply not on the table. Peter B. Parker knew that, of course. It’d been his policy for over 20 years.

Even so, he had to remind himself before hurling the Tickler through the nearest wall.

“Miguel!” Peter shouted once the villain was down, concern overshadowing everything else. When he’d arrived, the Tickler had been raking at Miguel’s thighs with clawed finger caps. By all accounts, Miguel should’ve screamed. The treatment was certainly brutal enough. Instead, his agony had been near silent, made evident only by a fresh stream of tears.

“Por favohohor… noho mahahás… Plehehease…” Miguel babbled, shivering in his restraints. At first, Peter assumed he was feeling aftershocks, only to realize his torment wasn’t actually over.

Vibrating brushes had been strapped to his soles, centered just enough to avoid his toe talons. Peter pulled them off, crushing both in his hands, then returned to Miguel’s front, gaze dropping low. He winced as he eyed Miguel’s weeping cock, two buzzing egg vibrators taped to the shaft. He took a steadying breath before crouching down, removing every bit of it with care.

After that, Miguel calmed, visibly sagging with relief. Peter reached out to cradle his face, only for Miguel to flinch away. “Migs, it’s just me…” Peter’s voice wobbled, his heart tightening in his chest. Fortunately, the nickname seemed to spark some awareness, and Miguel began to recover himself.

“P… Peter?” he croaked weakly, watery eyes coming back into focus.

“Yes! I’ve got you!” Peter pressed in close, wiping Miguel’s tears away with his knuckles. “I’ll have you out of there and back home soon.”

True to his word, Peter freed Miguel quickly, then wrapped his own robe around Miguel’s body. As soon as Jess acknowledged his ping, he left the villain for her, out cold and webbed-up. Tapping his watch, he opened a portal directly to 616B. When Miguel’s legs refused to cooperate, Peter scooped him up and carried him through.

—

Waking back up was a gradual process, made more difficult by pure fatigue. Nonetheless, Miguel persisted, drawn forth by the gentle hand in his hair. When he eventually opened his eyes, a soft sky blue was there to greet him.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” MJ murmured, her smile an absolutely breathtaking sight. Her hand moved carefully from his hair to his cheek, and Miguel instantly leaned into the contact.

“How long was I…” Unconscious? Captive? Miguel wasn’t sure which he wanted to ask. Without missing a beat, MJ answered both questions, frowning as she recalled the worst of it.

“You were missing for all of yesterday… then Peter got you home around 4am.” MJ had stayed up waiting for them, of course. “You’ve been asleep for around 10 hours.”

At that, Miguel attempted to sit up, only to discover he was being held down. Peering over his shoulder revealed a slumbering Peter, one arm and one leg slung over Miguel’s form.

“He was really worried,” MJ explained. “Didn’t tell me much, but…”

“You saw how I was.”

MJ’s brow furrowed, her own worry clear, but Miguel knew she wouldn’t ask until he was ready.

"Wanna see Mayday?" she asked instead, offering him the balm of domesticity. It made him feel warm... and more importantly... safe.

"I'd love to," he accepted gratefully.

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Hazbin Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Adam | Alastor | Charlie | Cherri | Husk | Lucifer | Lute | Pentious | Vaggie

Series Parts Overlords & SIns - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!

Sup bitch,

Looking for a valentine, cupid told me ur my soulmate, so how about you be mine?

You know I love teasing ya babe, but really, I got a reso for that restaurant you love, I'd tell you what to wear but the less the better.

Lova ya hot stuff

ORIGINAL DICKMASTER

Salutations my lovely doe!

Another opportunity to show my dear just how much I love them, what more could I ask?

I'd offer my cooking, but I know you don't have quite the palette for venison. Instead, I've prepared a private dinner, catered to by a lovely cafe a good friend of mine runs.

I'll be there to get you at half past two,

A.

Hiii ❣

I hope you don't mind me asking but I REALLY wanted to be the one to ask if you'd be my valentine?

I haven't decided what we should do yet, I was thinking rock climbing, or how about a fancy dinner? Ahh I have so many ideas! We can talk about it later!

Thinking of you always,

Charlie (Morningstar, Princess of Hell, Manager of the Hazbin Hotel (now booking!!), potential valentine of you!)

Heya girly,

I'm not one for holidays, but I know you reallllly wanted to try this one out. So! be my valentine?

I'll bring you to that great viewpoint I hang at, maybe show you how I make some of my arsenal. Just dress comfy, it's going to be a lot of moving!

You better be swooning already!

Your favourite 💣

Hey,

I'm thinking this year we could try something new. As stupid as it sounds, will you be my valentine?

I've got a stack of rental movies and one empty ass theatre room. Still sure no one realized we even have one, but what the hell, right? Let me know what you think and we can go pick up some drinks before.

Looking forward to it,

Husker

Hiii ❣

I know you told me not to go crazy this year, but how could I not! So, valentine...

I left a bag with this note, it's got a few outfits for you to pick that will match mine! Just be ready by 6 tonight, we've got a lot of stops. Drinks, dinner, a performance at Ozzie's, and a reserved spot in my bed tonight.

Happy valentines day,

Yours truly

I pray this letter reaches you,

Maybe you don't expect it of me, but you deserve to feel as special as everyone else this valentines.

So, I've got a surprise dinner set up for us this valentines. If you are willing, dress nice for four tomorrow and I can take you for a flight before it. Just don't wear anything that might fall off.

Your angel,

Lt. Lute

Dearest serpentine,

It would be ever so joyous to accompany you this valentines, if that is okay of course!

My egg bois have insisted upon serenading us and treating us to a nice dinner in my war machine. I promise you it is in prim and proper shape for such a day.

Yours sincerely

(Future) Overlord Pentious

Hey hun,

You've talked a lot about valentines recently, and while I know we said we'd overlook it, I feel like you deserve to know how much I love you.

When you get the chance, I've got a bottle of wine and a free night to decide what we want to do. Just swing by after eight?

See ya valentine,

Vaggie

Authors Note - Ahahaha can you tell I don't write Adam much? Either way, part one of the valentines series 🖤 If you don't have a valentine this year, please allow me to be yours! Or let me know which of these folks you'd accept a letter from 🤭

[gyllenhaalstories]

CHERISH (PART 2) — CHOCOLATIER!JAKE 🍫

summary: he brings the cream, you bring the pie. together you’re making... cupcakes?

warnings: curse words, food, baking & eating, smut (food play, finger sucking, aphrodisiac, fingering, handjob, pussy spanking, masturbation, penetration, creampie, hyperspermia & cum play). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3385

gifs credits: me (@/gyllenhaalstories) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i hope you’re ready, because it’s time for you to become a cream filled chocolate truffle! since this THE PART 2 OF THIS FIC, that means it’s still the season of pink, hearts and pink hearts so happy valentine’s day again! 💗 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

When Jake saw you grab the container of store bought frosting, his heart came close to stop beating. He snatched it out of your hand faster than the speed of your spoon diving into the sugary product.

You rolled your eyes at him, and at his genuinely shocked face before you started laughing with him — well no, it was directly at him. Right in his face too, because he remained stoic, holding the jar far out of your reach. “It’s just frosting.”

“It’s not just frosting! It’s the most important part of the cupcakes! It needs to be delicious and that?” His eyes widened while he waved the frosting in the air. “That’s unacceptable.” He put the container back where you found it, with the lid and all. “You can eat it behind my back, like when I’m in the shower —” but we shower together, you interrupted. You counter offered his other suggestions until he gave up and agreed to let you ruin another baked good, but not his cupcakes.

You found it funny how he turned into a busy, overwhelmed mom who was just reminded the night before by her forgetful children that they signed her up for some charity event at the school that would go down in flames without her box-mix cupcakes. He reacted dramatically to a lot of the things, you noticed. After several other dates since your first one at his chocolaterie, you discovered he was... Special. He liked things to be in order, clean and organized especially in the kitchen, while the rest of his life prevailed in a complete chaos. He was so different in and outside of the kitchen, you wondered if he allowed himself to have a bit of fun or if he was too scared that his Kitchen Aid stand mixer would judge him for eternity.

Jake resumed to measuring the rest of the ingredients, following the recipe he knew by heart for having baked it over and over again. He tweaked it to make it his own, he could not help it, but he recited the measurements out loud like a sing-song he learned. Your job as a sous-chef was reduced to putting paper liners in the muffin tin and sucking his finger clean whenever he would present you with a bit of the sweet preparation to taste. Premade frosting was out of the question, but raw eggs seemed to go by just fine.

At some point, you figured he just liked to have you suck on his fingers. Maybe it was the moans he let out when he felt your tongue swirl around his digits, or the fact he would tease your mouth with clean fingers even after the cupcakes were put in the oven. And you loved it too, how the deeper his fingers pushed in your mouth, the more you felt your mind going blank.

The alarm of the timer rang, snapping you back to reality at the poke of a toothpick coming out clean from the chocolate cupcakes. Jake did not stop cooking, and talking to himself about how he hoped Ina Garten would forgive him for his sins — which was to use his own chocolate wafers instead of the semisweet chocolate chips the well-known and even more well-loved chef recommended.

You watched him with an amused smile, while he was measuring the rest of the wafers while waiting for the bain-marie to get ready. He tried to be subtle, you knew it, but you caught him snacking on a couple of pieces of chocolate. So much so that he had just about enough for the last steps of the recipe and the replacement for your forbidden frosting.

Once the water started to simmer, he placed a glass bowl on the pot and poured the chocolate disks in it. He stirred the chocolate as it melted before yours and his eyes, smooth and satiny. He dipped his finger in the hot concoction — his fingers had been long desensitized to burning with all the years of baking he had underneath the cute apron he wore around his waist. It was your Valentine’s day gift to him, belated, but still a thought act.

“You know...” You spoke, Jake’s eyes left the glass bowl to meet with yours. “When I suggested we could bake cupcakes, I didn’t mean we should turn into a fancy bakery. We’ve been at it for a long time.”

He shook his head, in a strangely calm manner. “There’s nothing ironic about baking. I take it very seriously.” He sucked on his own chocolate dipped finger, releasing it with a pop, to further prove his point. “I’m almost done anyway. You’ve helped me plenty, time flew by!” When you rolled your eyes at his comment about your nonexistent help, he insisted. “You’re standing there and looking beautiful with flour hand prints on your butt. That’s more helpful than anything else.”

You earned a kiss that you tried to deepen and make last longer, but Jake pulled away to complete the chocolate ganache. The heavy cream and chocolate mixed together beautifully and you wrapped your arms around his torso while he expertly dipped the now cooled down cupcakes into the chocolate. You tried to sneak a peek of his work, but he was moving so much in your embrace that it made it hard to focus.

He ended your confusion by offering by sharing the rest of the ganache, using a spatula to scoop it from the bowl until the two of you acted giddy, giggling as he licked and kissed drops of sweet goodness that fell on your chin.

It took a little while — a few minutes, really — to notice the familiar sensations that were spreading through your body, starting at your tongue and sending electric waves all the way down between your thighs. Oh.

Oh, yeah, fucking finally, Jake murmured to himself. He smiled just as big and proud as the first time you tried his special chocolate at his boutique during your very first date. He pulled you closer to him, wanting to admire all the small changes that were starting to happen to you. He held your face delicately in his big hands, his eyes diving into yours while your pupils were growing larger and while your mouth dropped ajar. He mirrored everything — how his tongue could not stay still in his mouth like it was begging to touch yours, how your head wanted to loll to the side. “Let it go, sweetheart, let it go.”

The way he cooed at you helped your head get emptier and emptier until... Until you could not think of anything else except him. Except how badly you wanted him and needed to feel him. You wanted to scream at how much it hurt not to have his hands on your breasts or his mouth on your clit. You wanted to beg and beg until he would relieve some of that delicious pain.

His hands slid from your cheeks down to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck while he pulled you in for a kiss that was all tongues and teeth. The longer the kiss lasted, the more he felt like the world around you was vanishing into a thick fog.

It was the same way you felt, using whatever control on your body you had left to make your way to the bedroom. You let him grope your breasts over your clothes, rubbing his thumbs over the small bumps your hard nipples created until he heard you moan into his mouth.

Jake pulled away, only to lick some of the drool that fell down the corner of your mouth and kissed you hard again, making it as messy as he could while his hands kept exploring your body. He pulled moan after moan after you with touches as simple as the warmth of his palms pressing against the goosebumps on your skin.

In a blink of an eye, all of your clothes were piling up on the floor with nothing but your body heat and the burning desire to indulge in each other’s bodies. Unlike the first time you tasted the chocolate, you did not stand alone in this euphoric experience.

Jake looked just about as far gone as you were, with glossy eyes and quick breathing that resembled a needy panting. He was hard, his cock throbbing as you exchanged another series of feverish kisses. When you took him in your hand, he had to lean on you so his knees would not give in. Not that he ignored the effects of the aphrodisiac, but, even after he tested it on you, he realized just how powerful a few bites of that magic substance could be. It made precum leak out of his sensitive, pink tip. It made his abs clench at the strong sensation of your hand stroking him. It made him throw his head back when you cupped his balls into your left hand, using the other one to keep jerking him off.

You could tell he was holding back, with his clenched jaw and the tight grip he had on your soft hips, his short nails digging into your flesh. He wanted to fuck your hand hard and fast and catch his own release.

He did not give in, however. It would all be a waste if he did not get to feel you while being in this physical state, while having his mind and senses played with by a few bites of chocolate. Another kiss, another couple of strokes of his big cock and you were pushed on the bed. Jake barely let you find a comfortable spot to lay on that he was kneeling on the bed too and forcing your legs open to reveal what he wanted the most.

Your inner thighs were covered in your wetness, your folds were slightly puffy from the arousal alone and from this deep, uncontrollable need for Jake to touch you and bring back those fireworks you first experienced under the influence of the aphrodisiac.

“So fucking beautiful.” Jake mumbled, or moaned — both at the same time, actually. The aphrodisiac had him slurring his words and fighting to say a sentence with minimal coherence. He wrapped each arm around one of your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, making you gasp with surprise when you felt your skin slap against his.

You covered your face with your hands as he finally touched you. His flat hand rubbed over your pussy from side to side, fast and harsh. The more he touched you, and the more his fingers rubbed over your clit when your folds moved out of the way, the wetter you were getting. It was so much more intense than your first time, and it kept on getting better.

Jake slapped your puffy folds, although the blows were soft, they were stinging your sensitive skin. He messed with your brain that had trouble differentiating between the pain of the spanks and the bliss of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. He was mesmerized, jaw dropped and eyes wide as he spanked you a few more times and watched you flinch under him. Each spank was followed by a squeal and giggles, mixed with a moan that sounded like music to his ear. He wanted to hear more — he needed more.

You inhaled loudly, only for the oxygen to get stuck in your throat when you felt Jake’s cock pressing at your entrance and sliding inside your tight hole, eased by your wetness and the precum that covered the tip of his cock. You removed your hands from your face and placed them on your tits, trying to hold them in place while he started to fuck you. You only had a few slow and deep strokes to adjust to the delicious feeling of his cock inside your walls before he picked up the pace.

He gripped on your thighs again that he kept pressed against his body so that he could rock his hips back and forth. Curse words you had never heard from him were submerged by the sound of his deep grunts while he kept thrusting inside of you. Somehow, despite the mix of your juices, he could feel your walls tightening and clenching around his length every time he pushed his cock inside of you after pulling back. He was only chasing the maximum pleasure he could pull out of you — and give back to you.

Pretty moans turned into audible gasps and abrupt screaming when his cock hit the spongy spot inside of you. It seemed as though he calculated the number of times he hit your spot, trying to make you feel as good as possible while also stretching out the time he could enjoy your pussy. One look at him confirmed there was not a thought behind those lust-filled eyes, he was driven by his desire to bury his cock as deep inside of you as you would let him.

He clenched his jaw one moment only to press his lips together the next and hold himself back on moaning more so he could get lost in the obscene sounds your bodies created together. The slapping, the sticky wetness, the rushed and heavy breathing. When he could not hold in his own noises, he groaned and slowed down his thrusting.

He was fucking you hard and deep, so deep that you kept being pushed further away on the bed, dragging the bed sheets with you. “Please,” you spoke for what felt like the first time in forever. “Please, don’t stop!”

He did stop. He stopped to look down at where your bodies no longer met as the distance pulled you away from him, his cock bopping up and down, begging to be reunited with your pussy. Jake took a moment to catch his breath and admire the beautiful scene before his eyes. The veins of his arms, and cock, were bulging out from the sheer force with with he was fucking you. There was a layer of sweat covering both his body and yours, and visible wet spots on the bed sheets that created a trail from the edge of the bed to the middle where you now laid.

Impatient, your body burning into flames, you sat to reach up and pull Jake down with you. He was quick enough to climb on the bed, the tip of his cock brushing against the same wet spots you left behind on the fabric, and you held his cock in your hand briefly to guide it back where it belonged.

He pushed himself all the way back inside you, now kneeling between your thighs that he kept open for him — and for you. Withing even having to tell you, Jake loved to watch you rub the sensitive bundle of nerves that resided between your just as sensitive, soaking wet folds. He pulled away, just a little, and slammed himself back inside of you as he fucked you in this other position.

The aphrodisiac was nowhere near close to run out, you could tell. It still felt just as intense as it did while the effects began to work their magic over you. Your bodies, however, were running out of energy to last. You could tell that too by the fact you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm now that you rubbed your clit in a just as messy rhythm as the one Jake fucked you with.

He was getting so close too, his grunts became more succinct and his face tensed up with the powerful pleasure that ran through his veins. There was no need to speak, words were completely unnecessary as Jake and you let the aphrodisiac take complete control over you.

Your orgasm hit you by surprise, or well, sort of. As soon as you felt that familiar knot in your lower stomach, you knew you were about to explode in an orgasm that pushed the air out of your lungs and made you see stars even when you closed your eyes. It felt even stronger with your eyes closed than it did when you kept them open. It felt as though you could notice each vein on Jake’s cock, the swollen tip of his cock diving in and out of your slick walls. And then you felt it. All of it.

Jake fell down to his elbows, his face conveniently buried in the crook of your neck as he came inside of you, his pelvis flushed with you from how deep he was. Ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock while his hips jerked a few times uncontrollably, until he felt like something was pushing him out.

It was not you, not intentionally at least. You would have loved nothing more than to calm down from your high with the feeling of Jake’s cock softening inside of you. Although you could feel something still filling you up even if his cock was sliding out of you.

“Oh my,” Jake spoke when he finally pulled out of your pussy. “Oh my God.” It was still hitting him, he was still cumming with more of his seed just dripping out of his slit. There was even more trickling out of your hole. You looked as confused as Jake. This did not happen with him before... This had never happened to him before. His brows were raised in stupefaction one second and furrowed in confusion the next, he held his cock at the base in one hand while two fingers of his free hand dipped into your cum filled entrance.

It felt so good when he pushed his fingers barely past your entrance, as he felt even more cum inside of you. Quickly, he replaced his fingers with his cock and made you scream of pleasure as he finished inside you with a few more thrusts and pumps. You realized he fucked his cum back inside of you, not even minding that most of it was covering his cock and oozing out of you.

He fell back on you again, slowly and carefully this time so he did not hurt you. And, finally, you cherished the feeling of his softening cock inside of you while you both tried to catch your breath. Jake was mumbling to himself how it felt incredible, how it was so weird and so hot, and how he wanted to do it again — and he wanted it so fucking bad. He tried to move, arms and legs incredibly shaky, but you held him tighter and closer against your just as tired body.

“Where are you trying to go?” You whined, making room between your legs for him to lay down more comfortably.

Jake giggled in your ear, his laughter filled with excitement. The kisses he pressed all over your cheek, jawline and neck were filled with just as much lust as they were earlier. “Trying to get up to grab a snack.”

He squirmed on top of you, but all he managed to do was fall by your side and hug you tight against him. If he wanted to get up, he was failing rather adorably. “A snack? For what?” You turned your head to look at him, you were so close your noses almost touched.

He smiled at you, the same smile he had glued on his pretty face during your date at the boutique. You swore to yourself you would cherish this image forever. “So we can do that again. And again...” He leaned in closer to capture your lips with a kiss. “And again until there’s no more of that good stuff.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, that was the strongest reaction you could express with how exhausted you felt after this mind blowing orgasm. “It’s in the cupcakes?” Yup. “All of them?” Jake nodded in approval. “I can’t take it anymore. Not right now.” You tried to resonate with him, only the way your voice cracked betrayed your own desire to try it again and again...

“You’ll take it.” Jake answered, quite firmly. “Because this magic chocolate will definitely be in all the desserts we bake from now on.”

[bakerstreethound]

Chocolate Covered

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x reader

Warnings: Foodplay (use of chocolate syrup & strawberries), swearing, some strawberry!sherlock (sub boy), & yes, smut (18+)

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you decide to try out a sweet new experiment with Sherlock, which in turn ends in passion play. 

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​

Word Count: 1,919

A/N: Confession time. I had this slated to be posted on Valentine’s Day but time got away from me & I’ve been struggling so much to write these days, but that’s alright. I’m just so happy to show you guys this little self indulgent work of mine...I couldn’t help the strawberries, yeah? Okay good hehe. Please keep in mind that Strawberry!Sherlock encompasses the gentle more human side of Sherlock one one really sees, but for those special few. As always, I do my best to remain in character as to maintain the integrity of Benedict’s Sherlock. Don’t worry, though, he’s still quite a bit dom towards the end here and I sincerely hope you enjoy! As always the biggest shoutout to @pandaqueen7799​ for everything (: 

====================================

“What are you doing?”

“Just an experiment,” you chuckled as you shook the bottle of chocolate sauce not breaking eye contact with Sherlock as you took a step closer to him. Your lips brushed against his as you sat in his lap. “You like those, don’t you?” 

He gulped, eyes inquisitive as a sly smirk grew across your face. “Of course.” 

“Good, don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.” You chuckled to yourself. “Though, you best be waiting for me on the bed in ten minutes.” 

A few moments later you smile, balancing the tray in your hands expertly as you pushed open the door with your foot.  “Knock knock. Look at that such a good boy for me.” 

“You can’t even see me.”

 “I know what your groaning sounds like and you’ve started without me. I still will be needing a lot of whipped cream for later. You better not let it go to waste. Would be a tragedy, wouldn’t it Sherlock?” 

His eyes grew wide. He could hear the rapid incline of the beating of your heart, pupils dilating as they bore into his skull and he was in utter awe. It took all his willpower not to reach out and touch you, even if your hands were full. 

“Well look at you, my good boy all ready for me,” you set the tray on the side table nearest you, plucking up a strawberry and smirking as he not so discreetly licked his lips, head falling back against the headboard. 

“Please,” he murmured, leaning back further on his elbows, mouth-watering as you bit down on the sumptuous chocolate covered strawberry.  

You shook your head, smirking as you discarded the stem, making way to straddle Sherlock. You hovered over him for a moment, his body desperate fighting to arch into your touch. His gaze bore into you, chest rising and falling steadily, yet increasing as you reached over him, grazing your lips just a touch against his, pulling back mercilessly as you smiled producing a bottle of chocolate sauce from behind your back.  

His limbs began to hum as he inhaled. All he could sense was you, moaning softly as you bit into the righteously sinful fruit, evoking such pleasure and need he had held himself too high and mighty above. And yet, he was a human, nothing like a machine, the inner workings of his mind willing to combust, his heart open and willing to restart because of you. 

He watched you slowly, expertly discard the crisp white shirt he’d worn earlier that morning, swallowing a swear as he smirked in satisfaction, smug to have some effect on you. Your need was apparent enough, cheeks flushed, breaths slow and steady increasing with each button released from its hold. 

“You look…” he gulped as he felt something cold and wet fall across the planes of his chest. 

You cooed. “It’s alright, Sherlock. Look at me…” 

Tilting up his chin, you didn’t hesitate to press a chaste kiss to his lips, offering up your index finger and placed it softly across the seam of his lips, nodding in reassurance. 

With little hesitation he swirled his tongue across your finger, the hint of chocolate and strawberry juices oh so faint sent his senses blazing. Too long he’d been hiding in the dark, senses all but muted by death and crime. For now, he let himself be undone enjoying the pleasures of life oh so fleeting.

“Berry?” You offered him a soft smile of reassurance before ever so slowly gliding up the berry across the chocolate trail smeared in an almost perfect line down his chest, just shy of the waistband of his pants. 

“Please.” 

He shut his mouth at your pointed look, resisting the urge to swallow as you bit into the fleshy fruit again, piercing its softness with your teeth glistening in juice. 

“No then, what to do with this mess.” You brought your warm tongue to his chest, licking softly, deliberately, making sure he felt every inch of your ministrations and appreciation of him, how you relished this rare moment with him, bending the seemingly heartless detective to your will. 

You were his one in a  million and he couldn’t believe you were here in front of him bringing him to ruin with nothing but your tongue. He knew his needs were becoming apparent by the minute and he foolishly hoped it escaped your notice but he knew from the second drop you bestowed upon his chest that he was a goner and you would have your way with him the rest of the night. 

Again, slowly this time you increase your pace, relishing the moans and whimpers you drew from the man before you. 

“Consider this a very late Valentine’s present, Sherlock. Oh fuck, my precious boy.” 

Sherlock licked his lips, trying in vain to hide the ever growing effect you were having on him. 

“You're going to be good for me now, aren’t you, Sherl?”

He only hissed in response, inhaling a few short breaths as you sucked a mark onto his chest, licking and nipping, swirling your tongue through the remaining chocolate that still glistened upon his chest. 

Ever so slowly you reached for another berry, bringing it up to the soft light illuminating the room, humming in satisfaction. “Only the best for my boy,” you beamed.

Sherlock could only stare as your eyes darkened, you above him inspecting the sinful fruit making him more delirious by the moment, his brain whirling faster than the speed of light. He felt as if he were going to combust if he didn’t have a taste. Of you, or the berry for that matter. 

He arched off the bed, slightly, watching your mouth quirk before you brought the fruit down back to his chest, guiding it up to the remaining sliver of chocolate. Your eyes narrowed in feline delight and Sherlock though he tried to deny it, couldn’t. He swore his heartbeat was thundering so that you could hear it a mile away, but all logic aside, he was consumed by the aching need for more of you, your touch, and a taste of the righteous sinfulness above him. 

And you delivered, swiping the berry up his chest, covering what you could, biting your lip at Sherlock’s delirious gaze, full of awe and hunger, and desire. Pressing your left hand to his chest, you eased him back against the headboard, bringing the covered fruit with you in your other hand and lifted it mere centimeters from his lips. 

“It’s alright. Have a taste, Sherlock.” You drug your free hand from where it was pressed upon his chest up into his curls, tugging them back as he bit into the fruit, your lips meeting his neck as he groaned. You pressed yourself further onto him, relishing in the feeling of him as his tongue swirled around the berry before devouring the rest of it, nearly nipping your fingers that held the stem. 

“Easy there, now.” 

He licked his lips, meeting your eyes blown wide in bliss. “Please.”

You smirked, reaching down to grasp him in his pants, gleeful to find he was already perfectly aching for you as well. 

“You’re catastrophic to me so, good for me Sherlock.”

He squirmed in response, breaths faltering as you tossed away the empty stem, dragging the hand gripping his curls up to his wrist, pinning it gently before stroking his clothed length. You dared to press a kiss into his neck, savoring his response as he eagerly pressed into you, your palm heating with his warmth.

You smirked, applying more pressure against him to allow him some relief and friction as you made way to kiss his neck, swiping your tongue over each mark, making sure to leave ample amounts across his collarbone. Wiggling free from your grasp, his hands found your hips gripping tightly panting softly against your lips. 

“I need you,” he gazed up at you with pleading eyes, causing your heart to falter and smile at him, giving way to his need as his lips met yours, pulling you under him in a matter of moments, his pupils dilated, yet his confidence back, an almost ghost of a smirk forming on his lips.   

“S-sherlock,” you stammered at the sudden switch of demeanor, all playfulness and awe stripped away, dissolving into nothing more but utter confidence, precision, and flaming desire as his eyes snapped, boring into your with a fire that lighted your core. 

His lips against your warm skin was an answer enough as it sent shock waves through your system, lighting you up from the inside as he drug his tongue across the seam of your lips.

“Do you have any idea how cruel that was?”

“Awe is the poor baby sad he couldn’t maintain his composure?” You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck before slamming into his kiss in an act of your own desperation and need, your hands raking through and grasping handful after handful of his soft mass of curls. 

He groaned, causing your grip around his waist to tighten as he moved his long deft fingers down your back, sending a multitude of shivers down your spine, inching trailing ever so slowly down to the waistband of your pants while his lips refused to leave any inch of your body untraced. It had been too long since he’d claimed you, marked you as his own, seen your body and felt your need. He wanted so desperately to prove something, anything to you that you and you alone were enough for him. 

Sensing him falter and slowing in his movements, you squirmed. “Please, Sherlock. I...I need you now.” 

He moved into you slowly, pressing the tip gently inside you, sensing your movements and reception of him as he finally sheathed himself completely inside you. There, you felt whole again, the missing piece fitting together in one perfect chorused moan. 

Your hands trailed down to his chest, mildly sticky from the syrup you’d glazed on earlier. Utterly and endlessly spent, he smiled down at you, his length throbbing, still pulsing inside you, eyes delighting in watching you come undone for him alone, as you arched into him and his touch as he worked your sensitive bud with his index and forefinger, sending you off into oblivion seeing stars. He  found the crook of your neck and, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck, his hot breath sending your pleasure unfolding further tenfold as he whispered a quiet command, or plea, rather. “Let go for me,” he murmured, so softly you thought you’d imagined the whispered caress. 

You choked back a sob at how gentle yet demanding he was, shuddering and pulled him closer, stroking his back as you dared to move against him, feeling him deep inside you, bringing up your other to tangle in his hair, tugging gently.  “Only for you, Sherlock.”

You met his piercing smoldering gaze with your own, arching into him as you lost yourself in the pleasure of him. He followed soon after, crashing into your lips, swallowing your moans as you felt his whole body relax, falling against you and wrapping his arms around you, too afraid to let go. 

“My boy,” you murmured in his ear as he panted struggling to catch his breath. 

“Always.” was his response before continuing to stroke his hands down across your back, sending what remaining sparks flying as you gasped and continued whimpering and pleading his name to the stars. 

******

Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you’d like to be added to my everything taglist or Sherlock list (:

@bakerstreethound @disneymarina​ @groovyfluxie @pandaqueen7799 @viper-official @lilythemadqueen @sherlockfanficwriting​

Sherlock tags: @coping-via-clint-eastwood @andreasworlsboring101 @fanfictionsilove @clussysposts @ravencatart @starks-hero @alienoresimagines

[moonchildsaurora]

Darling, Dance for Me?

✤ sniper!San x female exotic dancer!reader ✤ genre: Mafia AU // 30% fluff, 60% spice, 10% platonic flirting with Woo  ✤ t/w: mentions of guns/shooting, mentions of alcohol, mature clubbing themes, highly suggestive in the second half (but not smut), rated M  ✤ count: 2k+

a/n - this was suppose to be for Valentine’s Day but, oh well! Enjoy some spice with one pink haired Sannie, coz we all know even though he looks soft. . . .he’s just a devil in disguise. This is probs my most suggestive writing till date as well, it was fun and am looking forward to writing more spice in the future hehet 💙

✛ play these vibes: BOBBY - ‘DeViL’, Sunmi - ‘Black Pearl’, Kai - ‘Mmmh’ ✛

“Mother told me, never to dance with the devil, So I danced for him instead.”

Cherry rouge.

Not your usual go-to, but a special occasion calls for some special exceptions. And damn did you look like fine wine tonight. Giving your styled curls another spritz of hair spray, you took one last inspection in your vanity mirror.  

Work was throwing a Valentine’s event and thus you found yourself having to dig through the back of your wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for tonight. Bold burgundy lace hugged tightly around your body replacing the mellower neutral tones you’d wear on any other night. Your roommate had even shoved a pair of thigh highs and heels on you to match the garter.

And cherry lips to bring the whole look together.

“You’ll thank me later! Hell everyone in the club would, for presenting god’s gift to them!”

You had laughed at her supportive enthusiasm, waving her away with embarrassment though you greatly appreciated the pre-shift hype.

When you headed for the kitchen, you could hear the TV in the lounge and glanced to see your roommate watching the evening news. She turned to call out for you but stopped mid-way upon realising you were already out of your room.

“Damn girl…you’ll sure be breaking hearts tonight with that fit!!” she yelled-gasped, brows waggling for a cheeky added effect.

“Well that’s no good. Dancers are supposed to be Cupids of the night, maybe they should’ve given me Aphrodite instead.”

A smile tugged on your lips as you saw your roommate falling back on the sofa snickering. Grabbing the bottle of Ten to One from what you both named ‘The Life Juice’ shelf, you started to fill your rose gold hip flask with the white rum. The debonair bartender at the club would usually be more than happy to concoct you a cup of much-needed poison to get you through the night. However, on such a busy event, you might not even have time to swing by the bar – so plan B was in order.

Also, whoever thought to invent garter pouches was a genius in your eyes. The amount of times you had snuck in a sip or two up on the podium without missing a beat or being noticed had to be one of your greatest feat till date.

Except maybe for the one who bought said pouch and flask for you. Seeing the shadow of their pleased smirk whenever you donned on something from them never failed to coax the goosebumps across your skin. Perhaps that garnet embellished choker would be the icing on the cake then. You made a mental note to put that on before you headed out.

“Hey honey…”

The tone of your roommate turned a little more serious.

“On the news just then, another one of those random sniper attacks happened along Soleil Street. Shit, that’s only two streets away from the club.”

The city has gotten used to such news every now and then. All leads of the serial sniper always went cold, not that they left behind any substantial traces for the authorities to begin with.

The law wasn’t the only ruling force in the area. Everyone knew that.

So long as one didn’t attract the wrong attention, they’d be free to go about their business.

“I’m dropping you off, are you ready to go?”

“Wait! It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

Your roommate gave you a look before swiping her car keys from the counter. “What would trouble me is not knowing whether you’ve made it to work and back safely. Now c’mon, the night is awaiting that cute booty of yours!”

“Yes mum.”

How lucky were you to have an angel for a roommate?

“Give me a heads up if you intend to bring anyone home tonight yeah? I’ll be sure to vacate the apartment before any sinning begins here.”

Or not.

A euphoric buzz filled every corner of the club tonight. Whether it was due to the special occasion or not, everyone was getting drunk off the atmosphere. The bar was a never-ending fountain of liquid luck and smoke veiled corners of the venue where patrons dealt cards and wits. A sea of bodies dominated the dancefloor, curling around one another in ecstasy as the thumping bass set the rhythm for them.

The centre podium was where the real magic unfurled.

Up on there, you felt powerful. Up on there, was your domain to rule.

Long have you enticed all those who returned back to ‘The Blue Butterfly’. So close, yet so far, for most could only have the visual satisfaction. Of watching you, along with your fellow dancers weave around golden poles and offer hands to those who sat in plush velvet chairs closest to the podium. Only to sashay away the last minute.

How bees are drawn to nectar and moths to light, the people keep coming back.

Tonight the club was decked out in a more sensual feel to fit the Valentine’s vibe. Long drapes of rose silk hung around the podium and you used those to accentuate the flow and movement of your body curves. The silks caressed the bare skin not hidden underneath your outfit and you pretended to take shy peeks around the fabrics at the audience. Sending a lucky wink or flying kiss their way.

In the middle of a mid-air twirl, you saw a familiar figure heading towards your side of the podium. You slowly lowered yourself back down to the floor, using your legs to wrap around the silks as leverage. Not missing the opportunity to be playful – you mimed shooting an arrow towards the club’s top croupier.

Wooyoung instantly clutched his heart with his hand that wasn’t occupied with holding one of Mingi’s own cocktail infusion. Letting out a hearty giggle, you slid over the podium floors to the edge where Wooyoung had propped himself up on.

“Don’t you look simply irresistible?” he crooned at you.

You could’ve said the exact same for him. All fitted to a tee in Givenchy with a classic choker that demanded attention for prominent collarbones.

“Now, how may I be of service to you tonight handsome?” you spoke over the music.

The youthful charmer leaned in towards you, shaking dark wavy strands out of his eyes. Eyeing his cotton candy pink drink, you ducked your head and took a few sips from the straw before Wooyoung drew it away. It tasted vaguely like pink lemonade with hints of vodka and vanilla.

“Ah ah, this isn’t for you poppet. Besides…” he tipped your chin back up with two fingers, “…wouldn’t want to waste your appetite before your main course tonight, would we?”

That made you perk right up.

“V.I.P Room Aurora has kindly requested for you. Drinks have already been sent up and the room’s been booked for the whole night.”

Not that booking was really needed since it was your room. It was just for formality.  

Wooyoung helped you off the podium and smoothly guided you through the crowd, placing you in front of him so as to avoid being grabbed by uninvited hands from behind. You both stopped at the foot of the polished glass stairs that led up to the V.I.P guest rooms.

“Off you go now! Oh and try not to make too much of a mess for our cleaners, they really ought to get a pay rise from some of the things they’ve witnessed in those rooms.”

You would’ve kicked Wooyoung for his brazen tongue, but you did well to remind yourself that would be rather impudent on your part. Whilst you have a jovial bond with him, it still doesn’t erase his high-standing status within the inner circle. You knew better than to cross that line of respect.

“Won’t make any promises I can’t keep, Jung!”

You left him with a soft pat on his cheek and ascended towards your utopia that awaited.

Swinging the golden embossed doors open, sultry melodious tune of a saxophone greeted you. Like molten dark chocolate, it was rich and tantalizing. The crystalline blue hue of the room’s lighting was fitting for the slow jazzy blues.

A spacious circular sofa curved around a glass table in the centre, providing a perfect view of the bejewelled podium. The wide one-way windows were especially designed for privacy. You could spectate over almost the whole club below, something you quite enjoyed during your breaks. The countless types of people that you observed stepping into your world; from the timid newcomers to the seasoned hedonists and the stories they brought with them of their journey to ‘The Blue Butterfly’.

But there was no time for that tonight. Not when you see broad sculptured shoulders that your hands have meticulously memorised the planes of – right in front of you.  

Still clad in his all-black incognito leather fit, you couldn’t help but stay by the door to appreciate his form. A huge bouquet of ivory and deep red roses sat on the glass table with an open box of what you suspected were chocolates inside. A loud pop of the champagne bottle went off. You bit your lips when you saw his toned arms flex as he gripped the bottle in one hand and tipped a stream of golden bubbles into two flute glasses in the other.

As the music picked up, you decided it was time to make your presence known. Walking with confident steps over the velveteen carpet you went to wrap your arms around his cinched waist. Resting your cheek on the cool leather vest of his back, you took his scent in.

Smoke and city musk lingered around.

You figured he must’ve come straight from his assignment. What better reason to use than to spoil him extra as post-work relaxation? His hand came up to wrap around yours and you felt the dancing of lips leaving petal kisses across your knuckles.

“You stink…” you mumbled lightly against his back.

San let out a low chuckle before setting the champagne bottle down and turning around to snake both arms around you. Calloused hands from the years of gripping guns instead of supple flesh imprinted their warm touch into your skin.

“Oh? Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping me freshen up, right Princess?”

“San!” you squealed when you felt him deliberately rub sweat against your neck before attacking it with more love bites.

“You taste like sweet temptation.”

You arched your neck out of habit when you felt his tongue swipe across it. Teeth bit down lightly around the garnet choker San bought for you for Christmas.

When you felt hands travelling down west towards your garter, you gave San a light shove backwards to the sofa.

“Not so fast, Choi.”

His predatory feline eyes took its time to rake down your body, committing every inch to memory. You made a show of bending over to grab the two champagne flutes off the table, the sharp intake of breath behind you made you preen with pride. You took your seat on your throne, not at all surprised to feel how much pent-up tension San had through the tight leather.

Clink. A toast made for the love of two.

“Happy Valentine’s, darling.”

“Thank you, San. You sure know how to spoil a lady don’t you?”

“Only the one who’s sniped right through my heart.”

Oh the irony.

You smiled when he pulled you close and claimed a proper kiss, whispering a, “You sap,” against his wind-chapped lips. Tasting the fruit acidity from the golden bubbles as you both exchanged kitten licks.

San’s rouge-stained lips chased after yours when you broke off from the kiss to place your champagne flute back down on the table. Hands anchoring your hips in place as you reached to pluck a couverture chocolate-covered strawberry from the box. Turning back round to San, your lips formed a small pout noticing that his freshly dyed hair was still hidden underneath his cap.

He let you discard it behind the sofa and you could’ve sworn he purred with satisfaction when you ran your hands through his cotton candy pink strands. Hands gave your bottom a firm squeeze and San begun to run his fingers along the hem of your lace. The husky vocals from the record player drifted back, interlacing with the saxophone.

That was your cue.

“Eyes on me.”

You held San’s gaze, fire reflecting fire. The strawberry gets slipped past the seams of his lips and all the while San chews intently, his eyes never wavered. He’s got his precious pearl all to himself, just the way he loves it. And you have the city’s most lethal hitman watching your back from dawn to dusk. San was the dangerous game you played, only to win the safest love.    

“Darling, won’t you please dance for me?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

[dresupi]

Be True - Fremione

for @that-wimpy-cowboy-doll​ Fred Weasley/Hermione Granger Rated T 2,402 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hermione, please,” Ron pleaded.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out again slowly before she could bear to respond to what was likely the very last thing she wanted to hear. It was Valentine’s Day, and for once, she wasn’t tied down to anyone.  She was going to spend a night in watching movies with a friend.

True, a friend who she’d very much like to be more than a friend. A friend who made all of this so much more complicated than she’d wanted. It was also true that her ‘friend’ was her ex’s brother, but that was allowed. Especially when the ex had left her over a year ago, and her ‘friend’ had been there for her.

Her friend was Fred. Fred was the friend. The friend who she’d very much like to be more than a friend.

Merlin, how could she have thought this could ever happen without it being complicated?

She must have been temporarily addled because she could see now that there wasn’t any way this could work. If she dated Fred now, she’d hurt Ron.

Never mind that Ron had hurt her. Greatly. How dare he come back just when she was getting comfortable? When she’d dusted herself off and had come to terms with the long-standing crush she’d seemingly always had on Fred, and was almost ready to act on it?

“Ron, don’t do this,” she groaned.

“Why not, Mione? We belong together. I see that now.”

“You don’t see anything other than you’ve made your rounds and all the witches have your number and know you’re not the marrying kind. So you’ve circled back to me.”

Ron actually looked offended. “That’s what you think of me?” he asked, his voice rising at the end of the sentence to the point where it might have been comical if this conversation were about anything else.

“This is what you think of me?” she asked. “You think I’m this stupid, Ronald? You and I didn’t work. We didn’t. I see that now. You want a different life than I do.”

“But that’s the thing. I want to get married now,” he said. “I’m tired of coming home to an empty flat. I want you to be there. Waiting for me when I get home.” He reached for her hands, she kept them limp.

The sad thing was, he probably thought he was being sweet.

Hermione sighed again. “That’s just it. I don’t want to wait for you.” She tugged her hands from his. “I haven’t been for nearly a year and it’s been the best I’ve felt about myself. There is someone out there for you, Ron. Someone who will wait for you and will be happy to do it. I’m not that someone. Now come,” she placed both hands on his shoulders and steered him to the fireplace. “Go on back home and eat some ice cream. Watch some sad movies and get over this, because it’s not happening.”

“You-you’re rushing me out of here, aren’t you?” Ron stammered. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You’ve got a bloke coming over don’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter! You’ve had loads of women since we broke up, what gives you the right to be angry with me?” she asked, indignant at his lack of common sense.

He spluttered a bit, sounding a lot like the time her father’s car had stalled out, the engine made sounds similar to the ones Ron was making now.

“Besides, not that it matters, but he’s just a friend.”

Even she didn’t believe that.

“Just a friend who comes calling on Valentine’s Day? In your home?” Ron snorted derisively and Hermione scrambled to think of what she could say to convince him otherwise when at that precise and inopportune moment, the fireplace popped and fizzled. Fred stepped out amidst a green glow onto her living room carpet and reached up to brush the soot from his hair.

“Oh,” Ron wheezed out a combination sigh of relief and a laugh. “Here I was thinking you had a bloke, and it’s just Fred.” He patted Fred on the shoulder. “Had me going there for a second.  Carry on, carry on. I’ll see you later, Mione.”

She set her jaw and sighed. “No you won’t, just go.”

Fred had something tucked up under his arm. But he sent it shrinking and into his pocket while he watched Ron go. He turned back to her, his eyes scanning her face quizzically. “You alright, Mione?”

She chuckled a little. “I am, not sure about him. He’s gone positively barmy.”

“What was that about?” he asked, tilting his head towards the fireplace.

“That was Ron leaving after literally begging me to take him back. He’s delusional,” she said, huffing out a sigh. “It figures he would have done just as I was coming to terms with everything. Bloody nutter, mucking about for a year and then begging me to take him back. That’s just like him, you know!”  She grumbled under her breath for a moment before glancing over at Fred, who was staring at her like her hair had turned green and it was his fault. Like he was sorry for her or something. Which wasn’t the tone she’d intended at all. “I’m fine, I just need some tea.”

“I can get that,” Fred offered.

“No, no, I’ll do it the muggle way, I need the distraction for a moment,” she replied, turning to sulk off to the kitchen and curse Ronald Bilius Weasley under her breath the entire way.

“He’s my brother, you know,” Fred said suddenly from behind her, and Hermione was just about to collapse into so many apologies when he continued. “He’s my brother, and I know I”m supposed to love him and all, but he’s a dimwitted moron with dust for brains and I’m sorry he did this.”

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. She ran water into the kettle and placed it on the stove. “It’s not your fault, Fred.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault that Ron had mucked up everything. That she now couldn’t rightly tell Fred what she wanted to tell him because it would hurt Ron and likely divide the Weasley family. And there was always the chance that Fred didn’t return her feelings at all. If she were to confess her feelings, she’d not only lose Fred, she’d likely cement her position as Weasley enemy number one.  A wretched trollop who broke one brother’s heart while trying to get into another’s robes.

No, it wasn’t Fred’s fault at all. He hadn’t asked for any of it.

“I had a year to move on, I should have done when I had the chance,” she sighed.

“That’s codswallop, Mione.”

“What?”

“You can still move on. You don’t have to put everything on hold just because my idiot of a brother can’t make up his mind. You’ve made yours up, I can tell. Don’t lie to yourself out of some misplaced affection for him. He isn’t the only one who matters, you know. In fact, I’d say that when it comes to you, Ron shouldn’t matter at all.”

The kettle whistled and she quickly turned off the burner and poured the water over her tea, inhaling the aroma as the steam carried it to her nose.

“I suppose you’re right,” she acquiesced, vowing to change the subject. “What did you bring me?”

Fred’s eyebrows raised comically. “What makes you think I brought you anything, you daft witch?”

She fought back a grin. “I saw you hide it in your pocket when you stepped through the fireplace. What’d you bring me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he teased, taking a seat at her kitchen table and forcing her to Accio whatever it was from his pockets.

Of course, when she did, she was forced to hold the shrunken down box in her hand for a long moment, glaring at Fred.

“What’s that look for? You’ve got the thing, haven’t you?” His eyes twinkled and while Hermione knew it was exactly what he was after, she glared all the harder. “Fine, fine. You’re so picky. You want your gift, but you want it life-size. How completely boring of you, Hermione.”

“That’s me,” she deadpanned. “Boring as sin.”

“See, to me, that means you’re not boring at all because sin isn’t very boring,” he argued, flicking his wand and muttering the counter-incantation to turn it back to life-size once more.

“That’s your opinion,” she countered, looking at the now right-size box in front of her. “What is it?”

“See, a normal witch would have torn it open by now. I’m not sure you understand how presents work, love.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the lid off the box, only to stop short when she saw what was inside.

By all outward appearances, they looked to be salted cream caramels from a lovely little sweet shop near her parent’s home. But this was Fred, so they could really be anything.

“These won’t make me puke rainbows or anything, will they?”

Fred sighed heavily as if he were the one who was greatly put upon here. “They’re from your favourite sweet shop in Muggle London. I Muggled up to go there and buy them for you, and you ask me if they’re going to make you puke? Why would I make you puke on Valentine’s Day, Granger?”

“Because you’re you,” she countered, pointing at him in a very accusatory way.

“That’s a fair cop, but I wouldn’t do that on Valentine’s. Your birthday, perhaps, but not Valentine’s.” He placed one hand over his heart and one in the air. “Trickster’s honor, I didn’t meddle with them.”

“That’s exactly what a trickster would say if he did meddle with them.” She reached for one and sniffed it.

“Merlin’s beard, woman.” Fred yanked it out of her hand and popped it in his mouth, chewing. “Shall I eat them all, or do you believe me now?”

“There’s over fifty here. You’d be puking something if you ate all of them.”

“But not rainbows,” he replied, grabbing another from a different part of the box.  After no rainbows, glitter, or fireworks issued from his mouth, she gingerly chose one of her own and ate it.

It was, of course, delicious. As illustrated by the groan that did issue from her mouth the second the decadent sweet touched her tongue. “Oh, I could eat myself sick on these,” she murmured.

“So you like them?” Fred asked.

“I do. But I’m afraid I didn’t get anything for you, didn’t know we were doing gifts.”

“I thought you were making me dinner,” he said with a shrug. “Not that I’m demanding it or anything.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow and flicked her wand to get things started. “As you wish, kind sir.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Said I didn’t demand it.”

She shrugged and reached for another caramel. “Didn’t say you did.”

“Mione, um…” His tone had changed. It was lighter. Quieter.  “You know that whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you, right?  George and Ginny would too. No matter what any of us say to the contrary. Don’t feel you have to try to work things out with Ron. Or that you have to dump his arse to the curb either. We just want you to be happy.”

“Awfully nice of you to relay the message for all of you,” she said with a short laugh. She reached for another sweet, and Fred’s fingers closed around her hand. “I just want you to be happy, Hermione.”

Her skin burned where he touched her. And when she looked up into his eyes, it only got worse. Or better, whichever way one wished to look at it.

Hermione licked her lips and decided to call it better.

“Really?”

“Truly,” he insisted, running his thumb over the back of her hand before letting it go. She pushed up from her seat and grabbed for his lapels, pulling him back closer so she could kiss him.

He’d started talking just before her lips met his, so she pulled back. “What?”

“Table’s in the way,” he muttered, sending it sliding across the floor and pulling her into his arms. One wrapped around her waist, the other cupped her chin and tilted her amicably so he could kiss her properly.

A bit dramatic, but effective, nonetheless.

“I really, really hope these aren’t delayed puking sweets,” she mumbled.

“Hush you,” he replied, nuzzling her nose with his before finding her lips once more.

“What are we going to tell--”

“Can you just enjoy a moment without having to think it to death?”

“No,” she answered. “You know this about me.”

He sighed. “Merlin help me, I love that about you. Even if I’d rather just snog you silly instead.”

“Maybe we could just keep this quiet--”

“Nah,” he shook his head.

“What? Why?”

“I’ve been wanting this for a while now, Mione. I’m not going to keep it quiet because it might hurt ickle Ronnykins’ precious feelings. He’s a grown man who made many mistakes. Which worked out well for me, so…” He shrugged.

“Your mum--”

“Will be thrilled that you’ve both moved on from Ronald and are still dating one of her sons,” he assured her. “Best of both worlds for her, I’d wager. Now, if you’ve finished worrying about everyone else in the entire world…”

Hermione grinned. “Fine. Snog me silly.”

“Oh, I intend to.” She giggled and he kissed the tip of her nose before moving down to her lips. “Doing my job for me, I see.”

“I can’t help it, I’m too happy.”

“Good.”

He’d just started to move in again when she spoke.

“Do you think we should--”

He groaned. “Hermione.”

“Go in the other room?” she continued. “I’ve a rather comfortable sofa in there.”

He clasped her hand and tugged her along after him. “Fine, but no more interruptions.” He pulled out his wand and cast a warming charm on the dinner before they collapsed in a pile on the sofa.

He pulled her into his lap, lips brushing over her jaw and she raked both hands through his hair, catching and holding his gaze for a long moment.

“Get a good look?” he asked, cheeky to a fault.

“I might have done,” she whispered.

“Hermione, please kiss me.”

She didn’t have to be asked again.

[writingsbychlo]

I have 3 and a half hours left to kill. Any recommendations of your works (or others, if you don't want to toot your own horn. But if you do, toot on) im just really in the mood for DOB and co. to get me in the mood for love and monsters

well I am always up for a bit of self representation, so here we go!

‘Feels Like Loneliness’ - Thomas Thomas has a girl in his head who he can’t forget, but can’t quiet remember, either. Though, he’s pretty sure she’s dead. Aris has a friend who he’s absolutely determined to save upon escaping the WCKD facility, and Thomas gets a shock. Love is a little tricky when you can barely remember who you are, in a world set out to kill you, though..

‘Special Delivery’ - Dylan O’Brien This is just a sweet little fic written for his birthday this year, but if you’re looking for something equally smutty and fluffy, then this is your calling.

‘French Class’ - Stiles Stilinski This fic is just one that seems to be a fan-favourite. Stiles makes a few comments while jealous about other girls that irk you, so you decide to make sure that you’re the only one he’s thinking about.

‘Roses and Wine’ - Stuart Twombly Misunderstandings and miscommunications make for the perfect Valentines Day, right? It’s just cute and awkward, with a mix of some very steamy smut and the kind of fluff that makes you squeal a little bit. I promise.

‘Daffodils’ - Thomas No smut in this one, but it’s a really emotional one, so if you’re looking for something angsty then I would highly recommend this fic, it’s one of my personal favourites.

‘Shape Of You’ - Stripper!Thomas A bit of an ego boost in this one, and to be honest, I love it. It’s just filthy, with a whole bunch of feelings thrown into the mix, (but mostly just sin) so it’s always one that I’d recommend.

‘Pool Parties’ - Dave Hodgman Dave brings home a friend from college, and Simon and Big C are absolutely convinced that they’re more than just friends. Maybe a little flirting and some pool parties will help them along..

‘Anti-Valentine’ - Mitch Rapp Mitch doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. Neither do you. Seems a bit ridiculous to you both, and neither of you is really all that romantic. Except when you’re together, and then, you just so happen to be hearts of pure fluff.

‘Below The Surface’ - 1920s!Sam Taylor The 1920′s bring about a lot of changes for Sam, and he's pretty happy with most of them, but some of them, he’s just not willing to accept. Like society trying to put out the flame of one of the most fiery women he’s ever met. He’s going to change that.

‘Like Silk’ - Sam Taylor You have a charity gala event tonight. Sam really likes the dress you’re planning to wear. He wasn’t planning on attending, but now he thinks he’s going to have to, because he needs to make sure nobody else is making a move on his girl when she looks that good.

‘What Happens In Vegas’ - Stilinski Triplets I wrote this as a little birthday ditty to myself this year, hence why it’s a little Thomas-biased at the end, but it’s epic, you can’t not love it, not when all three boys are in it!

‘Learning To Share’ - Stilinski Triplets, & Mitch, & Dylan This one gets wild, and I’m pretty sure if you asked around, this would be what my blog is known for. The first two parts are pure smut, there’s literally nothing else to them, and the third part is longer. It’s very sinful, with a good helping of emotions, too.

Stone Walls (pt 1) & Stone Walls (pt 2) - Medieval!Void He lost everything as a child, and he’s as dark and twisted as they come. King Derek offers him a prisoner from a rivalling kingdom. He was supposed to experiment on her, magic and potions and whatever poisons he’s got, he certainly wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.

[deliciousscaloppine]

No longer valentine’s day...but still.

Son of the witch Meng Shi

What did I want to write, what I wrote:

Okay, so I had a lot of ideas for this story, and I thought to myself it would make a nice longer work (big works should be packed with ideas). Primarily I just wanted to make a very sensual mystery with lots of different love stories, dark secrets, beautiful, fantasy visuals and funny action scenes. I also wanted to write something where the two masterminds (Jiggy/Huaisang) are pitted against each other a little more openly, and end up working together to solve a common problem. Somehow...I managed to write a time traveling mom heist. To be honest, I wouldn’t have expanded on this work as much as I did if I hadn’t added the time traveling element - which in general I find very intriguing and wanted to work on myself.

Story structure and dramatic time.

I basically envisioned this story as a corridor with many doors at first. The protagonist - Huaisang - enters the corridor and will have to move towards one direction to end the story, but on the way there are many doors to either side leading to rooms that can be visited several times and change the character’s perception of the journey. Some may be unlocked under certain conditions, some other might be connected in more ways than one, but all these are meant to be exited the same way so the journey forward can resume. 

At some point I did conceive this as a parallel timeline story. Meaning Huaisang has his own journey in the present, which is the active time of the narrative, and Meng Yao has the more visually appealing storyline at the background of the plot, which Huaisang would have to visit to bring that air of fantasy and mystery into his own more detective/coming of age like storyline. 

Once I inserted the time traveling element, however, I started reviewing what I had done, and wished to connect the two timelines in a Mobius strip style. Basically there is only one story - one surface in which all actions occur - and past and present are not only connected but occur simultaneously. 

I also wanted to explore that in a way that seemed plausible to me. So in many ways Huaisang can’t influence the past - because the past is physical and because of entropy a great deal of physical information is lost or replaced, but he can be perceived by Meng Yao and so Meng Yao can use him in the present. Huaisang can also become trapped there, in the form of birds and more importantly his own sword Jinsique.

Thematic development, the emotional core of the story.

I introduced the theme of this story quite late, because for up to the middle, I had no idea what that was, and what I was trying to develop ended up in Don’t be evil anymore. 

Basically, my first idea was a young closeted individual with lots of identity issues, severely isolated from his own social group, coming to terms with who they are and trying to teach themselves how to empathize with others. This remained as a lesser theme, basically Huaisang’s theme, through the story, but I deemed he shouldn’t get his resolution so easily, even though I would allow him to change. I wanted him to change so he would work with Meng Yao, but Meng Yao so far had no themes in his own story, and that was a big problem in devising his motivating problem, and a satisfying climax.

So I examined what these two should connect and bond over, and I decided it would be their mutual lack of parents. Meng Yao, however, had to have someone to save, someone who had also taught him extensively and he had an immense emotional connection to, enough so that his lovers wouldn’t be the only motivating factor, and in fact could be sacrificed over this more special person. And because Meng Yao is so closely observed by Huaisang, he would also emerge as a mentoring figure, not only intellectually, but also emotionally. 

So in the end Meng Yao would get his mother and his freedom back, and Huaisang would also gain his brother and the emotional flexibility he craved at the beginning of the story, giving a more or less happy tone to the ending. 

So I came up with the theme that would help me also explain the behavior of these two characters: Missing mothers, and then more broadly missing women in general. In this way I also solved another problem inherent to overtly male story environments, meaning while they can be quite flexible in exploring dramatic conflicts, they also force female characters to the semantic background of the plot. But these missing, or eradicated women are the reason why male antagonism takes on criminal directions, and why there is a mounting hostility to gender vagueness and homosexuality in fantasy settings.

In my case, I wanted the female characters to make a conscious choice of departing from the story. Lady florist is a lonely cultivator that moves in and out, but always maintains a clear perception of the dark, unseen aspects of the violent world in the story, and this is what motivates her to surgical interventions on the side of justice. 

The two Nie mothers, and Meng Shi with Lady Qin act as foils to each other, with the Nie mothers facing off directly with the dark secrets of their home and departing after they realize their solutions and transformations are not tolerated. In contrast, in the Jin home the women are utterly subdued, they are prisoners kept only because they may be used, but all of them have a core of private resistance and they act as teachers, protectors and instigators. For the Qin women leaving is part of their liberation, part of staying safe. They are also to be emulated - when the Brides leave the story they do so having seen what happens when one stays attached to a house and the desires of others.

The motivating problem

Most characters need to break free from their narrative restrictions in order to be changed and fulfilled. They need to become more than a story device, so in a way they have to defy the story - that is why I included whole chapters where the story structure completely breaks down and past present and multiple selves come together. And also parts of the story where I make it difficult to myself to move towards an easy resolution. 

I chose to demonstrate that through Meng Shi’s bondage, and Meng Yao’s trials. They are both the least and most physical characters, inhabiting multiple spacetimes and moving through the story collecting knowledge and information to gain the most complete view of the narrative, going as far as dying and attaining knowledge of themselves from their previous lives, as well as the afterlife. In having this loose and fluid relationship with life and death, they finally offer the potential of change and transformation to the rest of the story world.  They offer an alternative of immortality that is more associated with divinity and detachment and so I was able to create an open ending, where death and past mistakes do not determine the character - very suitable for young adult novels.

Writing process

For me this fic is what a good first draft looks like for a big work - it contains elements of the language i am going to use, well focused scenes, complete storylines, the atmosphere of the book, the basic gist of the characters, and the stylistic variations i wanted to implement. I took long breaks between chapters to really plan ahead and consider all the openings i had left in the previous chapters, and what kind of expectations i was creating, and how they should be reasonably fulfilled. In a second draft I would expand the worldbuilding and basically add information that fic readers take for granted, like the background of the villains and the “original sin” that distorted the idea of immortality for the villainous cultivators and led to the creation of the Yin Iron as a capacitor for human resentment and expand as well on the various tiers of divinity and what real immortality looks like in this world. I would also explore more the stories of the minor characters, and make Huaisang’s “detective” work a little more pronounced. 

[dovechim]

Power Play (m)

⇥ written as part of the Lights, Camera, Action! pornstar collab ⇤

➾ 27.6k 

➾ warnings: degradation/ humiliation, unprotected sex, creampies, cum eating, thigh riding, ass play, spitting, mentions of religion (porn scene involving a Catholic priest and school girl- please skip over if this offends you!), mentions of impregnation

➾ a/n: thank you so much to my deli fairy @jimlingss for hearing me out when i was ranting about how hard it was to write this. you gave me so much inspiration and motivation to write, and this fic would not be here without you :D @parkmuse you are the absolute mvp for offering to beta read this monster. thank you for validating me when i needed it TT i know you’ll just nut over this so enjoy ;-) and of course!!!! @winetae I'm so happy and grateful to be a part of this collaboration 😭 im honoured to be able to fulfil your porn star dreams :”D 

happy valentine’s day 🌹❤️ 

please do check out the other lovely writers in the collab too!!

➾ summary: You know him as the A lister of all porn stars; a man who sits pretty in his place at the top of the food chain. But you also know him as the Park Jimin who single handedly humiliated you and ruined your own career as a rookie just starting out, the epitome of the biggest dick in the entire industry… and you’re not talking about his assets. But when Park Jimin comes to you, saying he’s in a slump that only you can get him out of and begs you to sign an exclusive contract with him; things get messy… in more ways than one.  

“Longer thrusts, we want to see that cock sliding in and out, and more power please,” the director calls out as Jimin grunts mid thrust. “And watch your expression! You look like you’re fucking a garbage disposal. Get it together, Park!”

Sweat is pouring down his face as he gathers the last bit of his strength to push his co-star’s legs up onto his shoulders. Below him is one of his fellow A listers, the hottest, most on demand porn star in the industry. Everything from Sana’s bouncing, voluptuous breasts to her tiny squeaks and moans should serve as motivation for him and help him to perform his best, but there’s somehow… something lacking.

He’d been wanting to work with Sana for the longest time ever, even his manager was enthusiastic about two top A-listers coming together (no pun intended), but looking down at her now, it’s blatantly obvious that he isn’t as physically attracted to her as he thought.

“Cut, makeup team please,” the director motions for a touchup to be done, and Jimin groans as he pauses his thrusts and a few stylists fuss with his hair and his face. The sweat is carefully sponged off his forehead, the shading on his abs touched up a little, and being in this position, with this many strangers crowding around him nearly makes him go soft inside Sana’s pussy.

“You okay?” Sana frowns in concern as she can feel him start to slide out of her, gripping him with her walls tighter.

Jimin brushes aside her concern with a nod, just as the director calls for them to resume, and he starts pumping his hips into her again, driving deep with every thrust. Something he’s doing must be right, since the director is calling for close up shots and urging him to go faster and harder.

“Money shot in two minutes, Park please get ready,” the script writer reminds him somewhere from behind, and he grunts low in his throat, reaching down to wrap his hands around Sana’s waist to pull her onto his cock more firmly. “When you’re ready, pull out till just the tip. We want a nice big creampie there, tell us if you need the backup…”

Jimin forces himself to go harder, feeling his balls tighten up as he tries to cum on command, something he’s never had trouble with since the beginning of his career. He’s practically built his entire reputation as a porn star on creampies and facials, not to mention he knows he looks like sin incarnate when he throws his head back while he cums.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Sana gasps under him, and when her walls flutter around him, it occurs to Jimin that she’s not acting right now, she’s actually about to cum around him. “Pl-lease cum inside me, I want your cum so bad, fill my pussy up.”

Her passionate moans make her scripted lines even more believable, this is why she’s an A-lister, because she actually enjoys having sex on camera. Hearing her beg for his cum is almost enough to push him over the edge, just almost. But today he needs just a little bit more, so he squeezes his eyes shut and calls to mind a random image from his wank bank.

The first thing that comes to mind is a red plaid skirt under him and his hands around a waist, translucent white shirt stretched tight over small, perky breasts. His gaze travels up to her neck, and just almost reaches her face before—

“Fuck,” Jimin swears under his breath, hopefully disguising it as a grunt of pleasure when he realises that he doesn’t have the money shot today, too distracted by the suddenness of that mental image. He makes a discreet gesture behind his back, hidden from the camera, and that’s when one of the assistants steps in with a tube in between his spread legs.

The tube goes below his cock and inserted shallowly unto Sana’s pussy, so when Jimin groans and jerks himself off with one hand, the assistant pumps the lube up into the tube, making it seem as if Jimin had just blown his load. He feels the lube surround the head of his cock as he attempts a few small thrusts to spread it around a little, make it more realistic, before pulling out.

The fake cum that drips from Sana’s pussy looks far too realistic, that even Jimin himself is amazed. He spreads her lips with both fingers to show the camera the thick white liquid leaking from her, playing with her clit and coating it with the mixture as he rubs her to a final orgasm that makes her walls clench around nothing, squeezing out even more of the fake cum onto the mattress.

And then he moves off the bed as the camera zooms in for the last frame as Sana spreads her legs wide to show off her creamed pussy, fingers dipping into the mess and then licking it clean with her tongue, giggling as she licks her lips.

“Cut!” The director draws the final scene to a close, and just in time too, because Jimin’s cock is going soft even though he didn’t even cum.

Sana flashes him a smile in thanks as she sits up to peer in between her legs, and a few assistants help her to clean up.  

“Hey, you okay?” Manager Sejin hurries over to bring him his robe and a wet wipe, and Jimin shrugs it on silently, swiping half-heartedly at his thighs just to go through the motion of it all before he ties his robe closed and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, adamantly turning his back towards the director who is still talking with a few set assistants and script writers.

Not a few minutes later, the director strides over with a few script writers and exchanges a few laughs and jokes with Sejin, and Jimin is forced to turn around as well.

“The famous Park Jimin, what a show stopper,” he grins, slapping Jimin on the shoulder a few times with a huge grin on his face, seemingly pleased with how the whole shoot went today. “I knew it was a good call casting you and Sana together. You both look like a real on-screen couple! Both hot as fuck with bodies to die for, now that’s what I call chemistry!”

Jimin can only manage a half-hearted smile, which the director is entirely smitten with as he makes promises with Sejin to be in touch for Jimin’s next project soon. If that’s what the director thinks is chemistry, then he hasn’t seen many movies. But then again, what counts as chemistry in the porn industry is totally different from Hollywood. Here, as long as you act like you’re having a good time, say your cheesy lines and cum on command, anything goes.

His teeth sink into his lower lip as he makes his way to the car, getting in without a single word. Fooling the director is one thing, but there’s one person he’ll never be able to fool, and that’s himself. Jimin has never felt as if he was on the verge of losing an erection during a scene. The first five minutes of the car ride is spent in silence as he reproaches himself over and over, and Sejin casts him a wary glance.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you? Blaming yourself over something that can’t be changed,” Sejin interrupts his thoughts.

“No, it’s just…” Jimin denies it, but gives in a second later. “I was struggling during that last scene. Like really, honestly struggling. I think I’m losing it.”

To admit it out loud might be the scariest thing he’s ever done in his entire life to date. Saying it out loud makes it seem all the more real, and although it might be childish, Jimin thinks that if he keeps all these thoughts buried away in the corners of his mind, then everything will be alright again. All his doubts and insecurities will turn out to be nothing but lies, and everything will be okay.

“I know. I saw,” Sejin says. “Everyone struggles once in a while. What’s important is that you pulled through.”

His sincere words somehow makes Jimin want to keep talking. “I think… I’m tired. Tired of fake cumming in girls, tired of slapping random asses every day. The director said we had fucking chemistry. Can you believe that? Sana and I wouldn’t last two seconds in a science lab.”

Sejin chuckles as Jimin gets himself all worked up, muttering under his breath. “People see what they want to see, kid.”

“Do you remember anything about a girl in a white shirt and red plaid skirt?” Jimin asks suddenly, and Sejin is somewhat derailed by the change in topic, but decides to go along with his plucky charge’s demands. “Maybe one of my ex co-stars?”

“Park, this is porn. Red plaid skirt is a porn category all on its own, you must have fucked at least a dozen girls in that get up. So you gotta be more specific,” Sejin says as he turns into Jimin’s driveway, bringing the car to a stop.

“Oh. Right.” Visibly disappointed, Jimin leans back in his seat for a moment before reaching for the seatbelt to unbuckle it. “Well, thanks for today, hyung. I’ll get going now—“

“Wait, Park, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now,” Sejin turns to Jimin with a contemplative look on his face. “It’s about a new project I had in mind. I’ve been discussing this with a few people from the brand department, and I think it’ll get you out of your slump.”

“That’s what we thought about Sana, remember?” Jimin fidgets with the tie on his robe. “Who is it this time? Another blonde bombshell? We pretty much exhausted the entire A listers already, so I don’t see who else—“

“Except she’s not an A lister,” Sejin turns and rummages around the mess that is the backseat of his car for a few minutes before pulling out a tablet and unlocking it with a few swipes. “But she’s a rising star. A face you don’t really see that often in porn, and her concept is unique too.”

He clicks open a few folders and swipes through a few albums before he finds what he wants, handing the tablet to Jimin. “Here. This girl. I don’t think you’ve ever worked with her before, but—“

The tablet feels like stone in his hands as he stares at the image, and suddenly, he’s able to put a face to that girl in the white shirt and plaid skirt from earlier. This must be a slightly newer picture, since your hair looks different from how he remembers it. You’re wearing a white lace babydoll set, looking more innocent and pure than anything he’s ever seen in his entire life.

Jimin’s seen way too many girls in lingerie by now, such that he’s almost desensitized to it already. But there’s something different about this picture that makes his blood rush through his veins almost immediately. Unlike the hundreds of girls he’s seen, you’re more modestly covered in this picture, your breasts are fully covered in the delicate cloth, and Jimin has to tear his gaze away from it before his mouth starts to water, the lace allowing him peeks of your skin through the material. The way you’re seated on that chair—luscious thighs spread apart, your pussy just hidden from view—is the most provocative sight he’s ever seen. Your head is propped on your hand and you are looking somewhere off camera in a slightly bored expression, but it enraptures him nevertheless.

“As you can see, her concept isn’t about showing as much skin as possible. Her brand is pretty much the opposite of yours—softcore domination, that is—and since opposites attract, I was thinking a miniseries… that is, if you guys have the chemistry. If you really like her and you gusy can work well together…” Sejin glances over at Jimin to gauge his reaction, only to find him still staring at the picture on the screen with a laser like intensity. The tell-tale bulge in his dress pants makes Sejin burst out in laughter. “I’m guessing little Park approves? What’s with you, popping a boner just by seeing a girl in underwear?”

Jimin sends him a side eyed glare, hastily using the tablet to cover his lap as he mumbles defensively, “it’s leftover from the shoot just now.”

Sejin hits the steering wheel with a victorious fist. “I knew it! I knew you’d like her. When I first saw one of her videos a few days ago, I immediately thought of you. I don’t know why she looked so familiar, but I guess there aren’t many girls doing the modest concept these days—“

“You’re wrong, hyung,” Jimin interrupts before Sejin can get too carried away. “I haveworked with her before, five years ago.” Jimin’s memory is now crystal clear, he remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

“Really? You have?” Sejin frowns in confusion. “I think I’d remember a face like that…”

Jimin sighs as he tosses the tablet into the backseat in resignation. “Your project sounds great and all, but it’ll never work.”

“What? Why?” Sejin fumbles for the tablet again, struggling to understand Jimin’s sudden change in mood.

“Because she hates me to the core. There’s no way she’ll ever agree to work with me.”

“And that’s a wrap, thank you!” The slates clap one last time, and your co-star breaks character immediately to brush his thumb at the corner of your eye to make sure that one bit of cum doesn’t accidentally get inside. Inwardly your heart stops at his tender gesture, as if you hadn’t been on edge the whole scene.

Cha Eun Woo is one of the most handsome porn stars you’ve ever seen. His face is a work of the gods; when he smiles he is all shy boyish charm that has all his older female viewers quaking in their panties (you included), but when he clenches his jaw tight he is anything but a flower boy. You consider it a privilege to get to work with someone like him, and even though this scene isn’t exactly up your alley—bondage and face fucking—you’d do it all over again if it only meant getting to look at his beautiful face.

Eun Woo reaches for the restraints on your wrists and starts undoing them before his manager drapes a robe over him and tries to usher him away. Good looking and has manners? You need to get on that dick immediately, preferably not with a dozen cameras surrounding you.

He insists on undoing at least one side of your restraints before he allows himself to be dragged away by his manager who insists that he has another shoot to get to. He throws you an apologetic smile over his shoulder which you return as one of the set assistants helps you with your wrists and hands you a robe along with a wet wipe for your face. The back view of him isn’t too bad either, in fact it’s just as good as the front. You continue staring till it’s regrettably covered by his robe, and then you migrate your gaze down to his thighs.

You wish you’d written your number on the backs of those hard as steel thighs. Never mind that you don’t have a pen, there’s plenty of cum on your face for you to-

“Done ogling your co-star yet? Didn’t you get enough in the past four hours already?” You sigh in disappointment when your manager finally appears in your field of vision, blocking your view of Eun Woo’s thighs as she hands you a bottle of water.

Regrettably, you unscrew the cap and take a sip, following Wendy to the changing room. “Even a lifetime together with that man wouldn’t be enough.”

Before you enter the changing rooms, there is a flurry of activity behind you and a few screams here and there. You whip your head around, clutching your robe to your chest in terror as the most horrifying scenes cross your mind. Maybe you’ll be burnt alive before you can collect your day’s pay, resigned to a tragic death without ever having a chance to try that new all you can eat buffet. Or maybe it’s a gunman looking to shoot down the most attractive person in this set, and seeing as Eun Woo has left the building long ago-

“It’s Park Jimin, oh my god!!!” Wendy squeals in your ear, abruptly putting an end to your macabre imagination as she scurries towards the set, stopping halfway when she realises your expression has darkened over.

You can spot a gaggle of fangirls- mostly set assistants and even the director himself- crowding around him as he runs an unbothered hand through his silver hair, pushing his dark circle lenses further up his nose as he shoots them a polite smile. Jerk. Asshat. Pretentious bastard. Who the hell wears sunglasses indoors? You hope he trips an invisible crack on the floor and falls flat on his stupid face. Why would an A-lister like Park Jimin be here in the first place?

Just then, the man in question raises his head as if he’s looking for something, and while you can’t exactly be sure, you feel his gaze lock onto you, and you hurriedly turn away to the safety of the changing rooms.

You open your locker to start changing into your shirt dress, your robe half off your frame when you hear the door open. Thinking that it’s Wendy, you don’t bother to speed up your actions at all; she’s seen you naked plenty of times. Sometimes when she breaks into your house to wake you up for morning schedules you don’t even bother putting on clothes till the very last minute, so—

“I must say, you’re a lot hotter than I thought you’d be. You look like you’ve grown a cup size or two.”

The sound of a male voice makes your heart leap into your throat, and you drop everything you’re holding, but thankfully your robe remains clasped under your arms. Park Jimin lowers his sunglasses to the very end of his nose as his eyes linger on every bit of exposed skin, even tiptoeing to get a better look, the bastard.

“Long-time no see, hmm?”

He looks conspicuously out of place in his immaculately pressed dress pants and white silk shirt, arms folded against his chest with an amused look on his face as you scramble to cover yourself up as quickly as you can. Arming yourself with a glare, you turn around to face him fully, your back against the lockers and feeling as if you’re being cornered.

For the first time in five years, you come face to face with the source of all your misery. He looks just as cocky and suave as he did all those years ago when you were just a rookie starting out in the porn industry, fresh faced and hopeful, desperate to make a quick buck to pay off all your tuition fees.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” you deliberately force yourself to turn back to your locker, acting as if his gaze on your back doesn’t bother you in the least. “What are you doing here? It’s not your shoot.”

Jimin looks a little disappointed when you’re decent again. “Why so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like I don’t know what you look like under there. That video where you get titty fucked? They’ve definitely grown a cup or two since then.”

You cast a cursory glance towards the entrance of the changing room, wondering why Wendy isn’t storming in by now. Granted, people in the porn industry are a lot more relaxed when it comes to nudity and personal space. In fact, just last month, management proposed to merge both sexes’ changing rooms into one in favour of an onsite barista serving custom made coffee and drinks, and everyone jumped on that bandwagon like a man with blue balls at an orgy.

Thankfully some people still had brains enough to protest it and overturn that decision.

“As if you’ve ever seen any of my videos,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes, fumbling around for your underwear so that you can get the hell out of there as fast as you can, to spare yourself from any more humiliation in front of this man. “As if that tiny pea brain of yours could contemplate anyone else’s existence other than your own.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh,” Jimin pretends as if you shot him straight in the heart, and you honestly wish you had a gun just so you could. The world would be a much happier place without him.

Jimin bends down to pick something up from the ground, and you’re horrified when you realise that it’s your plain old white cotton bra, the ratty one that’s been in the wash one too many times and may or may not have its underwire poking out. He dangles it from his finger by the strap with an accompanying smirk on his face as he examines it thoroughly, eyes flitting towards your face every now and then.

“Looking for this? I was right. You did grow a cup size.”

You snatch it from him and decide to bite the bullet, shoving your robe off and pulling your shirt dress over your body as fast as you can. You can already feel him gearing up to make a greasy comment about your lack of underwear, but you stop him in his tracks as you slam the locker closed.

“Watch it, Park. My body’s only a free for all when the cameras are on. Apart from that, I charge by the minute.” You swing your tote bag over your shoulder and make a beeline for the doors, but Jimin isn’t letting you get away so easily.

“Then how about I film you with my phone? Does that count?” He grins cheerfully as he whips out his phone from his pocket, but all you see is just sleaze personified on his face. “I’ve never done amateur porn before, but I’d do anything to fuck that pussy of yours.”

The nerve of this guy. Just because he’s an A lister, he thinks he can just show up all willy nilly at someone else’s shoot, scare them while they’re half naked and say these kinds of disgusting, lewd things. Honestly, you have no idea why he’s even here at your shoot in the first place when he could be doing a number of other things instead. Namely, working out and ingesting copious amounts of protein, and also checking himself out in the mirror. You can’t say that you’re intimately familiar with his hobbies, but it seems about right for someone as vain and cocky as Park Jimin.

“In your dreams. Now if you don’t mind, I have other places to be.” You shut him down again as you head outside to look for Wendy’s car.

“I’m serious. I have a preposition for you.” Jimin stops you with a hand on your arm. “A mini-series with me.”

“Save it, Park. Why would I want to do a scene with you?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you unscrew the lid of a bottle of water to take a few sips. “Actually, scratch that. I’d love to do a scene with you. It could be the shortest shoot ever in the history of porn. A tiny dick like yours couldn’t last even an hour. We’d be done in thirty minutes!”

While you are exclaiming in glee to yourself, clapping your hands with mirth at the thought of poor little Park Jimin prematurely ejaculating all over himself while the rest of the set watches on in disappointment, you don’t notice his eyes narrow and his lips press together in a firm line. You’re all too absorbed in the fantasy of watching Park Jimin embarrass himself in front of you and a whole bunch of other people, instead of it being the other way around, for karma to kick his ass and give him what he deserves after all these years.

You turn back to him when a thought suddenly strikes you. “Hey, you were there watching me and Eun Woo today right?”

Jimin folds his arms across his chest, all traces of glee wiped clean from his face. “Yeah… why?”

“Did you see how long he lasted? He didn’t even need a fluffer in between scenes. He fucked me like a pro,” you sigh dreamily, unconsciously gripping the bottle tight as you call to mind how thick his cock was. “And he’s so good looking too. I heard he once sat on a nail and he didn’t even feel a thing. Can you imagine how fine that ass of his must be?”

“My ass is pretty great too…” Jimin mumbles in consternation. “Why won’t you do a scene with me? Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll even sit on a nail too. I’ll sit on two nails. Just to prove it.”

You don’t hear him over the sound of your phone chiming with a text. Unlocking it to check your messages, you throw in a few random belongings from your locker into your bag and get ready to leave, but Jimin still has more to say.

“My team’s already done the market research and analysis, you’re just that tiny bit short of making it to A list. If we collaborate, I’m pretty sure you’ll sky rocket to fame—“

You shrug his hand away violently, turning to face him with the immense urge to slap him hard. “What if I don’t want to be an A lister? Ever thought of that, Park? I’m no longer a charity case for people like you who’ve had it smooth sailing all along to take pity on. I made it this far on my own merit alone, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now—“

“Is this because I turned you down that one time?”

For someone who hasn’t seen you in five years, Park Jimin sure knows you well enough to hit you where it still hurts. Before you can stop it, the memories of that terrible, awful day come filtering back in despite your feeble attempts to block it out.

“Who’s this?” Park Jimin wrinkled his nose as he glanced at your poor fitting outfit.

You were well aware that your attempt at a sexy schoolgirl outfit didn’t quite meet the mark- it had come out of your own closet after all- but still, there was no reason for him to be quite so harsh, and you were at a loss for words. “I-I’m—“

“Is this my co-star?” Clothed in his perfectly pressed suit with his hair perfectly coiffed and standing at the other end of the table, Jimin glanced off to the side at the camera crew in doubt. At their confirmation, Jimin turned back to you and broke out into laughter. “PD-nim, I know you were aiming for an innocent school girl getting punished, but isn’t this a little too much?”

The entire set went silent, all eyes were on you and Jimin as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Now that you looked down at yourself, you saw everything that was wrong- your skirt should have been a good three inches shorter, your blouse tighter, and you should have thrown on that pair of knee socks too-

“I-if there’s something wrong with my outfit, o-or my makeup, I’ll fix it real quick, I promise,” you were mumbling, tripping over your words in anxiety. You knew that this was your big break- appearing on screen with someone as famous as Park Jimin would give you the exposure you needed. More pragmatically, that day’s pay alone would be enough to pay off three months of rent that you’d been late on, and buy some much needed food other than instant noodles and bread and-

“This isn’t something that can be fixed with clothes or makeup,” Jimin shook his head as he turned away to walk off set. “PD-nim, I specifically requested a hot co-star right? Not her. She’s just too cute. No one would take her seriously. She looks like she belongs in a church choir! I’d feel like I was committing a cardinal sin. I don’t even think I could get it up!”

And you were left staring at his back as he walked away, pride wounded. You could hear some of the staff whispering amongst themselves, shooting you looks of pity. But the thought of the bills stacking up made you fight back tears and push yourself off the table as you ran after him.

“M-Mr Park, please, I really need this,” you hated the way your voice sounded, hated putting yourself at someone else’s mercy. But having this opportunity disappear right in front of your eyes made you desperate, you were already clutching at straws, right at the end of your rope, and this was all you had. “Just tell me what I need to change. I’ll do anything.”

“Nothing you do could make me want to fuck you.” Jimin shrugged out of your grip as he pushes back the sleeve of his blazer to reveal a gold Rolex on his wrist. He began to unbuckle the watch from his wrist. “Here. Take this. Compensation for your time.”

He threw the watch onto the ground carelessly as he walked away with his hands in his pockets.

You turn to face him fully, clenching your jaw as you force the remnants of the past back where they belong: out of sight and out of mind. “So what if it is? You think just because you’re an A lister everyone is dying to work with you? I wouldn’t work with Mr Four Inches even if you begged me to.”

How the tables have turned; if only someone had told you on that fateful day after Park Jimin left you in tears, that five years later he’d be crawling back and asking you to work with him. But revenge is sweet and a dish best served cold.

“Listen, back then I was an arrogant jerk, and I said things I shouldn’t have,” Jimin removes his sunglasses so that you can see his eyes now, and it actually looks as if the bastard is truly sorry. Too bad a mere apology won’t fix things now; neither will it negate all the hardship you went through just to make a name for yourself. “Just tell me what it’ll take for you to agree to work with me. I’m open to anything.”

You take a step closer to him, securing yourself a front row seat to the guilt and remorse that plays out on his face as he averts his gaze downwards. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for the past five years, even fantasised about it while going to bed hungry only to wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning to get to your shoot by yourself. This is the moment that makes all that suffering worth it.

“Nothing you do could make me want to fuck you.”

On days that you don’t have a schedule, your guilty pleasure is lying in bed doing nothing. Maybe scroll through some social media on your phone. Go back to sleep for a couple of hours. Nothing strenuous like getting out of bed even for food though. And besides, no one ever visits you other than your manager anyway.

So when your doorbell rings on your day off, you groan and push yourself out of bed, taking a whole five minutes just to muster the energy to get to your feet. Your body is still healing and recovering from your last session with Eun Woo—the script had called for some love bites and marks, and you have to let them fade a little before you can do your next shoot.

You stumble to the door and open it, only to find Park Jimin at your doorstep.

“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” You’re almost instantly awake now, fumbling for your phone. “Get the fuck out of here, or I’m calling the police.”

“Wait, please,” Jimin pushes against the door as you attempt to slam it in his face. “Just hear me out. Five minutes, that’s all. Please.”

Something about the tone of his voice makes you hesitate, and Jimin is able to shove the door open a little wider and wedge his body in between the small space. You’re pressed up intimately against him, much closer than you’d like to be, so you back away immediately just to put some distance in between you. You should have kicked this cocky bastard out when you had the chance.

To put aside his pride and humble himself, coming all the way to your doorstep to beg for you to hear him out takes more out of Jimin than he’d ever thought. But your moment of hesitation means a chance for him, and he’ll take it.

“The clock is ticking,” you show him the timer on your phone as you cross your arms.

Jimin almost laughs, he never thought you’d actually be timing him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, figuring that the simplest approach is the best one. “Look, I’m not going weave you a sob story about how much I’ve changed since then, since you most likely won’t buy it anyway. Instead of that, I’ll be honest with you. I’m in a slump.”

You snort with laughter as you cross your arms, leaning back against the counter. This isn’t all too bad, seeing Park Jimin get all desperate in front of you actually helps close those wounds a little. “The great Park Jimin, most sought after porn star in the entire industry, in a slump? Yeah, right. Tell that to your viewers, tell that to someone who actually cares.”

“It’s true,” Jimin insists, and he clenches his fists tight. As much as it hurts him to admit it, he knows this is the only way he’ll ever have a chance of getting through to you. “I know it may not seem like it but I… I’m just sick of fucking a random girl every day. Every shoot feels like a blur, and I’m just… not happy with my performance. If you watch any of my recent videos, I-“

“Watch your videos? Why would I want to watch someone with a tiny dick acting like he’s got it all?” You toss your hair over your shoulder as you walk towards the kitchen. Since you’re up, you might as well get something to eat. “Hey, I have a question. How does the cameraman manage to get a good shot with your big head in the way?”

Okay, he definitely deserves all this, but that doesn’t mean that your insults don’t hurt. Jimin follows a few steps behind you, casting a surreptitious glance downwards. Is his dick really that small? He knows he doesn’t conform to the porn industry norm of seven and up, but he knows he’s got a good girth, and none of his co-stars have ever complained about his size…

“Just… please. It’s not like you aren’t getting anything out of this either, you’ll get on the A list in no time-“

“Do you think that’s what I really want? To get on that fucking A list?” You shoot back at him, fury reignited once more at the mention of rankings. Someone like Park Jimin would never understand how hard you had to work just to get here. And why to be offered a leg up to ride on his coattails is all the more insulting. “Even if it meant more money, even if it meant more fame, I’d rather die than be on that list, if it’ll make me turn into someone like you, who looks down on others beneath them. Newsflash: not everyone is as obsessed with rankings as you are. Some of us are happy with things the way they are, if it’s enough to get by on, then that’s all I need.”

Jimin looks as if he’s been slapped, and his eyes dart around uncertainly, well aware of your indignance, but having no idea how to proceed from this point on. “I’m sorry if I made it sound like that. I was just trying to help you out too, but I-“

“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” you shove his chest, pointing to the door. “Get out of my sight.”

“I haven’t had an orgasm in ages, alright?” Jimin finally exhales in defeat, shoulders slumping as he admits the one thing that he hasn’t told anyone, not even his manager. “And you can laugh at me all you want, and I deserve it, but it’s hard to even get it up these days. There’s only so many pills you can take before it starts to fuck with your health, and if that snowballs, there goes my entire career, my everything-“

Jimin cuts himself off, turning to face you with an inscrutable look on his face.

His sudden confession has you stumped, and you struggle to find the right words as you stare at the man that has been the bane of your existence during the most difficult time of your life. Your first instinct is to mock him and gloat over his misfortune, but the man standing in front of you isn’t the Park Jimin that you know and hate- making fun of him now wouldn’t be morally right. You know of plenty of porn stars who’d been through the entire system and come out the other side worse for wear.

“So? What does that have to do with me? What makes you think I’m the miracle cure to all your problems?”

Jimin is encouraged when you don’t immediately chase him out or laugh at him. To think of how the tables have turned since five years ago makes him feel like an utter jerk- he hadn’t even given you the time of day back then. You’re a better person than he could ever be.

“I’m attracted to you. Physically, at the very least.” Jimin doesn’t have anything to lose now as he shrugs. He’s always been shameless to a large extent. “I popped a boner for the first time on my own when my manager showed me your photo.”

Now this is just plain ridiculous. Your eyes immediately drop to his crotch out of instinct, and the greasy little shit actually smirks. Before you can avert your gaze, he grabs his own dick through his dress pants, and your cheeks immediately heat up as you look away.

“And you expect me to believe that? Out of all the girls you’ve fucked, you’re not attracted to any single one of them, but you pop a tiny little boner for me?” You clear your throat hastily, trying to get your cheeks to cool down. It feels as if the room suddenly became a few degrees hotter, and-

“Why not? Is it that hard to believe?” Jimin shrugs as if it’s no big deal, leaning against your kitchen counter as he watches you gulp an entire glass of water.

“Listen, Park. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, or if this is just one of your tricks to humiliate me again-“

“I’ll prove it!” Jimin is at his wits end, the timer on your phone ran out what seemed like ages ago, and he’s getting kicked out any second now.

“Prove what?” You turn around, and nearly drop the glass you’re holding.

Park Jimin is most definitely not Mr Four Inches. His pants are bunched up around his thick thighs- you’re privy to the very intimate fact that Park Jimin likes to go commando when he wears dress pants- and his dick is standing straight at attention. Even though he must have only been half hard when he grabbed himself just a few minutes ago, right now he is sporting a full erection, and you can’t help but stare at his one-eyed monster with a horrified look on your face.

You’ve seen many dicks in porn while sucking and fucking your way to the top. Park Jimin’s dick should not have this effect on you. But for some reason you can’t take your eyes off it no matter how hard you try, you can’t meet his eyes. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

This at least seems to shake his confidence a little. “Wh-what do you mean? If you’re talking about the underwear, it’s good for my balls-”

“How are you hard that fast? Just a second ago you were-“ you cut yourself off as you close your eyes, massaging your throbbing temples. It feels as if you’ve aged ten years since Park Jimin showed up at your house and flashed you his dick in your kitchen.

“This isn’t even my final form yet, if you show me your pussy I can-“

“Did you get a boner just from arguing with me? Wait, you know what, I don’t care. I really don’t care. Just get out. There are knives in this kitchen and I’m not afraid to use them. In fact, I have this special knife I like to use just for long things like pickles and sausages.”  You mime a chopping action while staring directly at his exposed dick, and Jimin winces, covering himself instinctively.

Grabbing him by his ear, you half drag him to the door, giving him almost no time to pull his pants up before you toss him out on his ass. Tomorrow you’re putting in a request to end your lease and shift somewhere into the corner of the city so he’ll never be able to harass you again.

That’s the last you’ll ever see of Park Jimin.

You must be drunk. You must be out of your mind.

At least one of the above is true, judging from the almost empty bottle of wine on the table, and if sitting in front of your computer browsing porn in your underwear is considered normal, then you can write off the second one.

But this still doesn’t account for the fact that you’re on Jimin’s homepage scrolling through his top ten most popular videos, learning from his bio the very precise measurements of his dick. And very bizarrely, the fact that he has an especially tiny pinky is… cute?

There must be a virus on your computer. How else would you explain the fact that your mouse is moving of its own volition towards the most popular video on his page and clicking on it? Someone must be controlling your computer from a remote location, forcing you to watch porn videos of this stupid punk who probably can’t even last more than a minute max-

No, no, you can’t do this. You close your eyes tightly as the video buffers. You’ve never seen a single video of his in your entire life, and you’d do anything to keep it that way. But then the sound of Jimin’s low grunts and whines forces your eyes open again, and you’re met with an intimate view of his spread legs as he wraps one hand around his cock. The sight of his precum dripping over his knuckles as he grips himself harder makes you squeeze your thighs together in response. From this perspective his balls look so tightly drawn and swollen, and your mouth waters at the prospect of taking them into your mouth, wondering how he tastes like.

There is a giggle from a girl offscreen, and Jimin looks off to the side with a smirk on his face, spreading his thick thighs wider and letting his cock fall against his abs with a heavy thump. “Your pussy looks so tight, you sure you can take me?”

The camera pans to his female co-star, and you recognise her to be Sana, top A-lister who has a body to die for. She giggles and spreads her lips, lowering herself down on Jimin’s cock as he hooks his arms under her knees. Sana leans back against Jimin’s chest as he begins to fuck into her roughly, her stuffed pussy front and center on camera as her breasts bounce and she screams and cries his name.

Your underwear is suspiciously wet, and you shift uncomfortably, unable to take your eyes off his cock, pumping in and out of her pussy. Sana is actually one of your role models, and you’ve seen enough of her videos to know when she’s putting on an act and when she’s truly screaming her head off from being dicked down so hard. They change positions several times, and it looks as if she manages to have an orgasm every single time.

You forward to the end, somehow curious to see Park Jimin’s famous money shot. The last thirty seconds of the video shows Jimin’s tip buried in her pussy as he jerks off furiously, sweat shining on his abs as he grunts. Sana is egging him on, asking him to cum inside her, and Jimin complies with a groan, giving a few thrusts with his hips as white liquid begins to seep out around Sana’s pussy. You recognise it immediately as the fake stuff even as Jimin thrusts a few times to make it more realistic, before pulling out. The camera switches angles to focus on his fingers that are pulling her lips apart, exposing her to the camera as he leisurely plays with the fake cum, licking his lips and following the stream of cum with his eyes as it drips from her.

The close up shot of his face doesn’t lie- Park Jimin is one hell of an actor. If he hadn’t told you he was struggling, you’d be entirely fooled by the way he’s kissing Sana’s inner thighs on-screen, post orgasm glow on his rosy cheeks as he praises her for taking his cum so well. Jimin’s face is lit up with reverence and fascination as he runs his fingers through her used cunt, spreading his cum around and using it to rub her clit. The camera then focuses on Sana’s face, gasping and writhing from Jimin’s fingers, but the sound of his voice telling her to cum like the dirty girl she is, suck up all his cum deep inside where it belongs, steals your attention.

You can’t help but start to fan yourself. The soothing lilt of Jimin’s baritone voice is enough to make you feel like he’s actually talking to you right through the screen. With Sana’s face cut off from the frame, it’s easy to just close your eyes and immerse yourself in his praise, like some kind of ASMR porn. Your panties are unbelievably sticky. Now you know just why Park Jimin is an A lister, not because of his good looks or just Lady Luck smiling down on him, or god forbid, his not-as-small-as-you-thought dick. He is truly talented, he works hard, and he knows he’s good at what he does.

As much as you hate to admit it. But you are a person who gives credit where credit is due.

If what he says is true- that partnering with you will go a long way in helping his performance- then you wonder just how well this man can fuck. But yet… collaborating with him would mean having to deal with his insufferable cockiness, not to mention that you’ve already seen enough of him to last a lifetime by now.

But the stickiness between your thighs that just begs for your attention conjures up the filthiest, nastiest thoughts of what it would be like for Jimin to actually say all those things to you. Since everyone says he’s just that good at his job, why shouldn’t you test him out for yourself to see if he really lives up to his name? It’ll be like test driving a car with no intention to buy it whatsoever. Or just going to the showroom for the free biscuits and coffee. No commitment, no getting involved, nothing.

Easy as pie.

A part of you hesitates as you reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the send button long after you’ve typed out your message. Indecision has always been your weak spot.

Oh fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? You hit the button and send the message to your manager before giving in to temptation and reaching for the rarely used vibrator that you stash away at the corner of your desk drawer.

Tell Park I’m in.

“Mr Park will see you now,” the receptionist gestures you toward a meeting room down the hallway, and you have to force yourself to aim a friendly smile at her instead of just turning right around and leaving immediately. 

After having been made to wait a good ten minutes past the agreed meeting time- you can see through the damn meeting room’s glass doors that Jimin is just twiddling his thumbs, doing absolutely nothing at all- you utterly regret your decision. You should never have agreed to work with this prideful asshole.

Park Jimin is absolutely obnoxious. You’ll bet a hundred bucks that he told the poor receptionist to quote that line from Fifty Shades. 

“Well well well… look who we have here,” Jimin grins smugly from his seat when you enter, legs spread wide so that your eyes are forced to take in the broad expanse of his well-muscled thighs and slowly travel up… up to-

Already beyond annoyed that you had to come all the way here- your number one rule when it comes to men and business is to let them come to you- you plop yourself down on the plush sofa, feeling out of place in your denim skirt and white shirt. Jimin, as usual, is dressed to the nines, white dress pants stretched tight over his thighs, and his light blue shirt draping slightly off one shoulder.

“What made you change your mind?” Jimin twirls a pen with interest as he crosses one leg over the other, nodding his thanks when a man clad in a full suit sets a tray with tea and coffee on the table. “Let me guess. I’ll bet it was my dick. It was, wasn’t it?”

This man is so full of himself, it makes your temples pound immediately. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to disagree entirely, even as you try not to gape at how luxurious Jimin’s label company is. This entire room alone is bigger than your company’s entire office, and you’ve most certainly never been served tea and biscuits at a contract negotiation before.

“I’m…” you fumble around for a plausible excuse to feed him even as you panic a little. “I’m adopting a cat!”

Jimin’s brows furrow in slight confusion. “O-ookay?”

You want to kick yourself. When you go home today, you need to write out a list of excuses to use in a pinch when cocky bastards ask if you like their dicks. Jimin looks amused as he raises his eyebrows, that stupid infuriating smirk telling you that he sees through your excuse as if it’s nothing but cling wrap. But you’ve made your bed. And now you have to lie in it. “A-and I figured the extra money couldn’t hurt.”

“How much money does one need to adopt a cat?” Jimin queries, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees now. The stupid little punk has a tiny smirk on his lips, but his eyes seem as if he is genuinely curious.

“It’s a… a very expensive cat, a purebred,” you say defensively. You’re just pulling all this out of your ass now, but you can’t, refuse to back down. “He’s gonna need lots of vet checks and toys and um… cat things.”

“Cat things. Right. Very expensive, those. I would know, since I know pussies very intimately.” Jimin nods, the corners of his lips twitching as he struggles to fight back a grin.

“You told her to say that, didn’t you,” you accuse him, desperate to change the subject. “On purpose, just to annoy me.” 

Jimin merely raises his brows, taking a slow sip of his tea and staring at you from over the rim of his cup. Stupid, cocky, obnoxious, handsome bastard. 

You roll your eyes and tilt your chin toward the reception. “’Mr Park will see you now’.”

Jimin’s eyes light up with mirth immediately as he sets his cup down, licking his lips, feigning innocence. Or ignorance. Or both. “I’m not sure what you mean by that... she is a receptionist, and that is her job, so I’m not sure why you’d think-”

“You were waiting in here doing nothing for ten minutes!” You finally explode, pointing a finger at him. “I fucking saw you through the glass door!”

Jimin seems to be utterly amused by your explosive anger, and he only shrugs nonchalantly. He has this stupid shit eating grin on his face as he revels in your irritation.

“Ah yes, that. I was meditating, you see. Very good way of calming the mind and the body,” Jimin is still grinning from ear to ear as he twiddles his thumbs. “Speaking of, you might want to try it yourself. Maybe you can get rid of some of that... pent up anger.” 

You are still fuming at him, grabbing a biscuit off the plate and popping it into your mouth, chewing silently for a few minutes as you continue to seethe. Jimin admits you look cute like this- cheeks puffed out from chewing- bickering with you is actually fun, and it’s entertaining to see how easily he can rile you up. 

Jimin silently praises himself for coming up with that idea, beyond pleased that Sandra came through as promised- if only he could have seen the look on your face when she said that to you. 

He clears his throat, resting his arms on his knees and lacing his fingers together. “Anyway, before you sign anything, I just wanted you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Immediately, you narrow your eyes in suspicion, turning your knees away from his lewd gaze as he eats up the expanse of your legs with his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you know by now, after much… research,” Jimin pauses to lick his lips- that bastard knows exactly what he’s insinuating- as he uncrosses his legs. “You’ll know all about my style, and I guess you could call it a brand that I made for myself. Mainly I do submissive and occasionally softcore dom-“

“Wait, what?” You nearly spit out your coffee. Images of your late night ‘research’ session assault you, and although you would never admit it, Park Jimin is anything but submissive and softcore dom. You remember being awed at his hidden strength as he tosses his girls around, bending them into positions that give the camera the best view, almost felt the stinging sensation of his spanks on your own ass, the sharp bite of his teeth sinking into your own skin, marking you all over. His girls end up thoroughly fucked and marked, and his trademark is that his videos always end with a leaking pussy. Jimin likes to play around with the cunts that he’s fucked, tongue lingering teasingly around his girls’ inner thighs, almost but never quite coming close to licking up the mess that he just made. The video would always cut to black in a very unsatisfying manner, and that’s how you found yourself clicking from one video to another in the hopes of finding one where he actually eats his own cum. Or the fake cum, that is.

“You? Submissive? Softcore?” You nearly snort with laughter. “Maybe in your next lifetime, Park-“

The shit eating grin that spreads across his face lets you know that you’ve been caught red handed. Park Jimin pushes himself off his seat to join you on the sofa, crowding into your space as he sits so close to you that his thigh brushes yours. One arm goes around the back of the sofa to curl around you, and the other casually rests on your bare knee. His agonizingly plump lips just brush against the shell of your ear. “Caught you, princess. Been watching my videos? No wonder you look like you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I wasn’t- I just…” words elude you for the nth time today, and a bubble of frustration rises in your chest. Just what is it about this man that makes you so tongue tied, when usually you have no problem saying whatever comes to mind?

“What if I told you I’ve watched every single one of your videos too?” Jimin’s lips ghost across your cheek, following your jawline. “And I like the ones where it’s just you on camera. Your lips sucking my cock, eyes tearing up because I’m fucking your mouth so good. Your pussy getting creamed and filled up so that it leaks everywhere. Your ass bouncing on my cock while you whine and moan because you’re just that. fucking. tight.”

You do all you can to keep your breathing level, even though your body reacts instinctively to his words just as it had the night before. The tone of his voice, the filth that spews from his sweet plush lips awakens your lust once more, lust that you spent the better part of last night trying to quench. The difference is, this time Park Jimin is actually here whispering these words into your ear and you can reach out and just-

His thigh feels like steel under your touch. You slide your fingers up till you almost reach the apex as his breaths on your neck cause your nipples to harden and ache for his tongue.

Abruptly, Jimin draws away with a satisfied smirk on his lips. “There. I think I gave you just a tiny little taste of the weeks to come hmm? Now, let’s go over the contract together, shall we?”

The contract ended up to be pretty standard, nothing you’ve never seen before, except for the exclusive part. You’re bound to Jimin for three shoots exclusively, and over the span of these shoots, you’re not allowed to take on any other projects, and neither is he. As for the actual script and content of each shoot, Jimin left it open to negotiation. But having spent the past few years doing every single porn cliché imaginable, you’re pretty much fresh out of ideas and don’t really mind leaving it up to Jimin, as long as he runs it through you for your approval first. A part of you is actually even a little curious to see what he can cook up that he hasn’t already done.

And with that, you’d just entered an exclusive contract with your nemesis, the man you swore you’d never fuck. He’d turned you down all those years ago and left you high and dry, what’s to say that he won’t do the same again this time? For years after you’d cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror, forced yourself to fight through the crippling panic attacks before every single shoot as his words come to mind again and again.

Everyone is their own worst critic, but your own self-degradation is only bolstered by the ghost of his words uttered when you were at your lowest. Even the memory of letting someone see you at your most desperate and dire causes a physical shudder to run through your body. Never again will you be in such a position.

But at least now if he decides to revert back to his arrogant self again, you’ll be protected by the contract you signed. You’ll make sure to sue his balls off.

When Jimin emails you the first script, you’re too shocked for words when you read through it. It’s nothing he’s ever done before, at least not from what you remember. The premise is you as a high end prostitute being rented out exclusively by CEO Jimin, only he’s found out that you’ve been seeing other customers behind his back. His lines are definitely not soft-core, nowhere near it. It is degrading, slightly humiliating, and there is plenty of name calling.

Just the thought of letting Jimin have the upper hand in this scene brings back all the unpleasant memories, and bile threatens to rise in your throat. It seems like he wasn’t joking when he said he likes to dominate his girls. You know you could always just write him back and tell him that it’s too much, too fast for you. While Jimin might be an insufferable bastard with the biggest ego you’ve ever seen, he isn’t unprofessional. He’ll change the script if you tell him to, no questions asked.

But a stubborn part of you is desperate to prove to him that the events of five years ago no longer hold any power over you. To show him, and maybe yourself too, that you’ve long ago moved on from it. You don’t want to run from it anymore, and the best way to do it would be to accept this script, willingly put yourself in a subservient position below the man who’d rejected and humiliated you all those years ago.

You sigh and reach for a bottle of wine before you read any further. Why can’t moving past trauma be as easy as finishing an entire bottle of wine by yourself?

Nursing a glass of wine, you read on. The kinks… oh god.  Spanking, for one. There’s also a part where you’re required to do a lapdance for him, accompanied with stripping. As you read through both your parts, you try and visualise the entire scene in your head. There’s no way you’ll be able to dance confidently, that’s for sure. The rest of it is a slight stretch, but for now that’s the only change you want to make, and you type back a brief line to Jimin.  

And then, there’s nothing left to do but search for strip tease videos and learn the heck out of them.

Doing a shoot with Park Jimin has its perks.

Proper make-up artists, for one. And an actual chair to sit in while your hair and makeup gets done professionally. There’s even a manicurist on call who gives you a quick touch up when she sees your bare nails. And the wardrobe… usually the lingerie that gets shoved at you is two sizes too small, scratchy and doesn’t fit well, and even once or twice looks like it hasn’t been washed. But today the stylists prepared a custom fit scarlet lace bralette that supports you just right, enhancing your natural cleavage and making you more confident than you’ve ever been about your tits. The lace of it just skims your waist, accentuating the petite curve of it, while the low rise panties come with matching garters. You’re also given a black lace see through cardigan to drape over your shoulders, and overall the entire outfit is very tasteful, very much your style of not exposing too much skin.

As you sit in the chair and go over the script one last time, you can’t help but feel the nerves right in the pit of your stomach. The makeup artists are working their magic on you, transforming you into an entirely different person altogether, so when you look at yourself in the mirror, it feels foreign. After they’re done, you ask to be left alone just for a moment so you can calm yourself down.

“Hey… how’re you doing?” Wendy approaches you and places her hands on your shoulders from behind. “Okay? Nervous?”

You put on a brave smile for her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “No, not nervous. I mean, maybe a little.”

“It’s normal,” she reassures you, kneading your shoulders to get at the tense knots. “You’ve never done something so… intense. Actually, I was surprised you even accepted it in the first place.”

You give her a muted shrug as you focus on looking through your script. You haven’t seen Jimin since stepping on set, assuming that he is off somewhere also getting his hair and makeup done.

The director’s assistant pops her head in soon after to let you know that it’s time for the preliminary lighting checks. Placing your script on the table in front of you, you take a deep breath, meeting your own eyes in the mirror once more before sliding your feet into your four inch black heels that you’d been given and making your way to the main set area.

Today’s set is simple- what looks like the interior of a bachelor’s pad. The first scene takes place in the living room over the sofa, and you wait awkwardly by the side for the director’s cue. You notice Jimin laughing and joking with him from afar, giving him a brief side hug before he notices you staring at him and makes his way over.

“Morning,” your co-star greets you with a lazy half smile, and you wobble on your heels, nearly twisting an ankle. Irritated with yourself, you bite your lip hard.

Jimin reaches out to steady you with his hands on your waist through the flimsy material of your cardigan, and when he sees what you’re wearing, he raises an eyebrow in approval. He doesn’t take his hands off your waist, seeing it fit to pull you into his body so that you can feel his hips against yours. You can feel the ice cold metal of his rings on your skin, and it makes you shiver. Jimin doesn’t look all that different since he is wearing a suit, but his hair is slicked back and his makeup dark and smouldering. He exudes an aura of power and control.

“Morning,” you mutter back, taking a step away from him and averting your gaze to calm your racing heart.

Jimin lets you go with a chuckle, but then he glances down at your heels. “Are those bothering you? You should take them off if it’s uncomfortable.”

A little taken aback at his sudden concern, you glance down at your feet. “It’s fine. Maybe later, during the strip tease. For this scene I won’t really be standing much anyway.”

Jimin hums an agreement as he absent mindedly plays with his rings, briefly directing his attention to the set technicians as they adjust the lighting and check the camera angles. Having his eyes off you sets you at ease a little, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, causing Jimin to turn to you.

“You look a little tense,” he comments, noting your crossed arms and hunched shoulders. “Was there anything else you wanted me to change in the script? I’m still open to last minute changes. Don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m serious about that, I’ll handle everything with the director, so don’t hesitate.”

At the mention of the director, you turn your head toward where he is currently surrounded by a few script writers. This director is known for being short tempered and very direct, although of course Jimin has an excellent relationship with him. The director probably doesn’t even know who you are, doesn’t care about a nobody like you.

“Nothing?” Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Last chance to cop out before you forget everything but my name.”

The bastard is grinning like a Cheshire cat now, and in spite of your nerves, it actually sets you at ease to see Jimin acting the way you’ve always known him to be.

“Please. I think it’s you who should be nervous,” you roll your eyes at him, glancing at his crotch pointedly. The material of his dress pants are dark so you can’t really tell if he’s hard or not. “Little Park up to the task today? Or maybe you need me to flash you first? Are you gonna cum once you see my tits?”

The back and forth banter feels familiar. It feels right.

“Are you offering a sneak peek? I’m not in a position to turn that down, although…” Jimin actually reaches forward to grab your hand and pull it to his crotch, and you gasp when you’re met with his semi-erect state. “I’ll make you eat your words today.”

The playful glint in his eyes makes you forget about everything you were nervous about.

“Maybe you should have written in some against the wall action,” you direct your gaze down to his covered thighs. “Your thighs and ass look like they need some work.”

Jimin just laughs as if the thought had never occured to him before. He does suppose his ass has got a little flat recently... and Jimin can think of more than one way to get his famous bubble butt back. One that involves you being naked, on his back while he does some squats.

“You’ll be seeing plenty of my ass and thighs, I assure you,” he lowers his voice as his lips brush against the shell of your ear. 

One of the assistant producers directs you on set, and you walk ahead of Jimin and take up your opening position against the back of the sofa. Jimin follows and crowds up against you, every inch of his body against yours as you spread your thighs to accommodate him. He presses his nose into the crook of your neck, his hand running up your side and lifting your cardigan so that your ass is exposed. He cups your cheek with his other hand, and up close like this, it’s actually quite magical to witness Park Jimin getting into character.

All traces of humour and boyish playfulness fades, and in its place is a poker face: eyes hard and unforgiving, jaw clenched with a muscle that jumps in his cheek. His grip around your waist is punishing and no doubt leaving finger marks, yet the way he strokes your cheek is completely opposite; a gentle caress with his thumb on your chin, playing with your bottom lip. Your heart skips a beat from how cold his gaze is. 

The director gives his approval for the cameras to start rolling. “Scene one, action!”

“My favourite whore,” Jimin mumbles with a slow smile, eyes dipping down to appreciate your cleavage from his vantage point. His hand leaves your cheek to tangle in your hair, giving it a few firm tugs as the camera focuses on your side profiles. “I’ve missed that mouth of yours around my cock so much.”

He reaches to push the lace cardigan off your shoulders, and it falls to your feet, exposing you to the camera and also to his gaze. Wearing a devious smirk, you let one bra strap fall off your shoulder. “I missed you too, Mr Park.”

“Oh really?” He comments with a raised eyebrow when the other strap falls down too, and you lean forward to show off your cleavage to the camera circling the both of you. “Then maybe you’d care to explain why one of my acquaintances just bragged to me mere hours ago about fucking that sweet pussy of yours?”

As the script calls, you freeze immediately in his gaze. But there is no need for you to put on any sort of pretense, because the look on Jimin’s face is enough to make your heart skip a few beats. He looks genuinely displeased, unimpressed with the little show you’re putting on for him that it makes you doubt if you’re doing a good job at playing the sultry prostitute or not.

He makes his way over to the couch, sitting with his thighs spread, motioning you to stand in between them.

“I-I wasn’t, Mr Park, I just-“

“Save it, dollface,” he waves your excuse away with a disappointed sigh. His eyes travel the length of your body passively. “The terms and conditions of being my whore were clear, were they not? Surely even a slut that’s as cock hungry as you would understand how many girls out there would kill to be my personal fuck toy. I don’t share my toys, and I don’t fuck sloppy seconds either.”

Jimin waits a beat or two before he continues, his voice now a low growl. “Take your panties off, turn around, and bend over. I want to see your pussy.”

Trembling in your heels, you do as he says, inching the lace fabric down over your hips as the camera relocates behind you. The humiliation that burns on your cheeks is real even though you keep reminding yourself that it’s just a scene. You bend over so that your chest touches your thighs, putting yourself fully on display for him. You can only imagine what kind of view the camera; and by extension, Jimin, is getting now.

“Spread your lips with your fingers. Let me see inside,” he demands, and you reach back to pull apart your already damp pussy lips with both hands.

“Look at that,” Jimin marvels. “Didn’t even bother to clean up before you came over to fuck me. What a fucking cumslut you are, you let him cum in your pussy? You think you could fool me? Make me take disgusting sloppy seconds?”

There is a hitch in your breath when Jimin goes slightly off script, mentioning cum that isn’t in your pussy. Thankfully you aren’t too far gone to think on your feet. “N-no Sir! I made him use a condom.”

A sudden sharp sting on your ass elicits a cry from you.

“It still doesn’t excuse your behaviour. In case you forgot, I’ll remind you again. Your. Pussy. Is. Mine.” Jimin punctuates each word with a slap, causing you to wobble on your heels as your walls clench around nothing. “Dripping for me already?”

You can feel your pussy start to drip down your inner thighs, and a blush heats up your cheeks involuntarily.

“Why don’t you get on my thigh and show me how sorry you are, and maybe I’ll consider letting you suck my cock. And lose the bra.”

Scrambling to kick off your underwear, you turn around to face Jimin again, and he is leaning back against the sofa, a proud smirk on his lips as he spreads his thighs invitingly. You manage to take a few steps towards him before Jimin grabs your waist and pulls you down, situating his firm, thick thigh right against your bare center. Embarrassingly, you can feel yourself start to soak through his dress pants almost immediately as he watches your chest heave with an unimpressed raise of his eyebrow.

Jimin tugs down the lace cups of your bra to expose your breasts, pinching your nipples harshly. “What’s a slut like you doing wearing underwear? Cumwhores like you should go around with a bare pussy, since you like cock so much, hmmm? Don’t you think?”

With his hands around your hips securing you on his lap, Jimin makes eye contact with you for a brief second to check your reaction. Imperceptibly, his thumb brushes against your skin softly, and the touch reassures you that it’s all just for the camera, and you relax slightly.

“Yes, sir,” you whisper as you arch your hips up, showing the camera your pussy and Jimin’s soaked lap.

“Good girl, now grind like you mean it,” Jimin spits onto your right nipple, watching perversely as his saliva drips over your erect bud, soaking the red lace.

With a moan, you begin to work your hips against his thigh, feeling his muscles tense to give you just the right amount of friction. Your clit rubs against him just right, and Jimin reaches down to spank your ass before he gropes it lewdly.

“That’s it… fuck, I knew a whore like you’d be good at this. Show me how much you want my cock. Look at your dirty pussy, you made such a mess of me.” He spreads your ass cheeks apart to show the camera your tight asshole, and you lift your hips for a moment to grant your poor clit some reprieve before you cum prematurely like a rookie. Jimin reprimands you with a sharp slap. “Did I say you could stop, whore?”

With a barely concealed whimper, you lower your cunt onto his thigh and start to grind again, but Jimin shoves you off roughly, and you land on the couch with your thighs spread, pussy already red and swollen. Jimin pushes himself to his feet with a disappointed sigh as he looks at you, utterly unimpressed as he delivers a spank to your clit, followed by three more. You sob and cry for mercy, thighs quivering as you jerk and wriggle on the couch, trying to close your legs.

“Keep your fucking legs spread, or I’ll have to tie you to a spreader bar,” Jimin growls as he digs his nails into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. His eyes are hard, cruel and cold as he spanks you a few more times. “Sluts like you should know how to keep their legs spread right?”

“Please, Sir, please,” you pant and whine, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as he soothes the crescent shaped indents with a caress.

“Give me one reason why you deserve my cock. A dirty little whore like you who fucks every man she meets.” Jimin slaps your clit again before spitting at it in disgust. You can feel his saliva on your clit, dripping down over your slit. “That’s all you are; a desperate, cock hungry slut.”

“M-make it yours,” you gasp, thighs trembling in Jimin’s grasp even as your breath comes in uneven heaves, cheeks burning in humiliation that is all too real. “Make my cunt yours, Sir.”

“Should I?” Jimin pretends to consider for a moment, and the ice cold sensation of his rings against your skin are the only thing keeping you sane right now. Your cunt is throbbing, desperate for any kind of relief, you are covered in sweat, tears and Jimin’s spit, utterly wrecked and he hasn’t even taken off a single article of clothing yet. “We’ll see how well you suck cock, whore. Get up.” 

“And cut!” The director calls an end to the first scene, and Jimin immediately releases his grip on your thighs.

The director’s voice is like a wakeup call, and you take in the sight of the cameras and crew surrounding you with a renewed clarity. The cut came at a good time; for a moment there you almost forgot that this is merely a scene from a porn script, and it’s never happened to you before. Your breaths are coming in harsh pants and you recognise that you are about to hyperventilate if you don’t regulate your breathing soon.

You push yourself to a seating position and close your thighs, taking a moment to regain your senses as Jimin crouches in front of you. He is fussing with a tissue at your tearstained cheeks even though there are two make-up artists hovering behind him, and you are thrown off by this 180 degree change.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jimin frowns as he glances at your thighs. “I cut my nails this morning, but…”

“I’m fine,” your voice is wobbly as you push his hand away and get to your feet, stepping around him and letting the makeup artists do their thing. Letting your impeccable mask slide back into place as the tears are sponged off your face. A few swipes of a brush here and there, and they step back. And you are good as new. No sign whatsoever to indicate that you were this close to almost breaking into tears. 

Jimin is still way too close for comfort, you feel as if having him look at you up close like this is enough for him to realise how affected you were by that scene. And that’s not something you’re willing to divulge just yet.

Jimin looks as if he’s about to protest, but then the director cuts in, ordering everyone to move to the bedroom for the next scene. You start to walk towards the set, but Jimin stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Hey, look at me. Are you okay? I need to know before we go any further,” his grip on you is insistent as he pins you in place with his eyes. “This is a rough scene and I need you to tell me when you need a break or if it gets too much.”

Jimin is genuinely concerned as he searches your expression, refusing to relinquish his grip on you till you give him an answer. He doesn’t seem to care that the director is left waiting on the new set; all his attention is focused on you only.

“The dialogue was a little much,” you admit as you look away from him, crossing your arms over your naked chest self-consciously. The thought of admitting just how much it affected you nearly makes you sick to your stomach. “But it’s fine. I just need to get used to it.”

Jimin releases a breath as he nods to himself. “Good. And also- I should have asked you this earlier, but my partners and I have a signal we use for each other during scenes to act as a non-verbal safeword. Are you familiar with that kind of practice?”

You hesitate a little before answering, since it’s hard to reconcile this Jimin with the domineering, cold man just moments ago. Also, you’ve never done shoots that even came close to requiring such a protocol. “No. I can’t say I’m very familiar with that.”

“Just touch my earlobe once if you need to slow down. Twice to stop completely.” He says as he begins to lead you to the bedroom. “In my shoots, my girls have all the power. Just one word from them and everything stops. I’m serious, ______.”

Thrown off by how seriously he takes all this, you take a seat on the foot of the bed first. Hearing him refer to you as ‘his girl’ admittedly makes you a little giddy, and what makes it worse is when Jimin kneels down between your thighs with one hand stroking your knee, eyes fixed on you intently as he studies your expression. You’d never expected this degree of attention and concern from your co-star, but it seems as if your pre-conceived notions about Park Jimin may have been wrong.

You’re aware that every single pair of eyes in the room is on you, waiting for your signal to go ahead. Suddenly you don’t feel like the no-name extra on set any more like you’re used to. Even the director himself looks concerned as he strides over to check if everything is alright, calling over a few scriptwriters too. It’s clear that they are all waiting for your approval to go ahead, and you just barely hear Jimin’s voice when he checks in with you.

“Hey, you okay? Get her some water,” he says to an assistant, but you wave her away.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you scramble to reassure everybody. “We can continue, really. I’m good.”

“You sure?” Jimin confirms one last time, and you reply with a nod. Then, all the crew and the director return to their assigned spots, and you shift off the bed onto your knees to prepare for the next scene.

Jimin positions himself in front of you so that his crotch is directly at eye level, and you realise that he’s only half hard. It must have been all the delay in between scenes, but when you consider helping him out, Jimin looks down at you, and you can feel his eyes appraising every inch of your body.

“You look so good down there on your knees. Can I?” Jimin palms himself with one hand and the other reaches down, gently cupping your breast when you nod.

The cameras aren’t even rolling yet, and the director is busy checking some camera angle, so you whisper-hiss at Jimin, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He shrugs nonchalantly, rolling a nipple between his fingers and tugging at it, letting it go to watch how your breast bounces. “I’m getting myself hard. Usually I’d sneak a pill right about now, but with you around I don’t think I need it. Maybe you’re my Viagra.”

“Gee, thanks, what an honour,” you grumble under your breath, but you can���t really complain because his warm hands feel quite nice on your skin. The air conditioning is ramped up on set, so your skin feels a little chilly, but Jimin continues to massage and tweak your nipples, and you can feel yourself start to drip onto the floor, shifting from your position to rub your thighs together.

His knowing, cocky grin irks the shit out of you as he switches to the other breast, abandoning his grip on his dick to push both tits together as he admires your cleavage. “Y’know, I think I’ll write in some titty fucking in the next one. What do you think about that?”

“Let’s see if you even have that much dick first,” you quip back at him just as the director calls for everyone to be on standby.

“Rolling for scene two, let’s go!”

Immediately Jimin’s face shuts down into a cold, sombre expression as he slaps your breasts hard. You feel the heavy weight of them swinging under his gaze as he buries one hand into the hair at the base of your neck as he tugs your head up to look at him.

“Take me out. No hands, use that filthy mouth of yours, whore,” Jimin’s voice is bone-chillingly sharp, and you rush to do as he says.

Undoing his dress pants and dragging down his zipper with your teeth is something you’re practically an expert at, having done it for practically every single shoot since you started porn. It’s part of the niche that you carved for yourself as the innocent, angel incarnate. You can tell that Jimin is slightly surprised at how fast you are and how easily you drag his pants down to reveal his fully hard cock by the slight widening of his eyes before he covers it up by slapping his cock against your cheek, leaving a sticky trail of precum.

You can see the pleasure in his face when he drags his cock all over your face, ruining your makeup as he slaps his cock against your cheek several times. You open your mouth for him, showing him your tongue as Jimin buries his cock into your mouth at an angle, pushing against the side of your mouth and thrusting a few times so that your cheek protrudes obscenely. Then he lies his dick on the centre of your face so that your mouth touches his balls and his tip is leaking onto your forehead, precum dripping down your skin. This is ultimate degradation, your face is used as nothing but a bed for his cock.

“Lick my balls like the cockslut you are. Don’t miss a single inch, bitch.”

You comply and lave his balls with your tongue reverently, taking them into your mouth as Jimin spreads his thighs for the camera to get a good view. You take one of them into your mouth and suck on it, wishing you could play with the other one with your hands. He feels big in your mouth, heavy on your tongue as you roll him around, coating his balls in saliva. Jimin pulls your head away and pushes his cockhead against your lips, demanding you to open up for him.

You part your lips and he slides in almost immediately, sinking all the way into your throat without a warning. He may not be as big as some of your other co-stars you’ve had before, but damn is he thick. Your eyes water immediately and you gag a little, to which Jimin grunts in approval as he strokes your cheek.

“Choking already? Shouldn’t a whore like you do better than that? Show me how well you can suck dick, I know you’re better than this.”

You glance up to meet Jimin’s eyes directly- with the camera focusing on your face, Jimin lets his stone cold expression loosen a little as he raises an eyebrow- issuing you a direct challenge. Somehow the mischievous spark in his eyes motivates you to reduce him to nothing but a whining, moaning mess just with your mouth, so you force down your gag reflex and start sucking him as if your life depends on it.

Spit and saliva is everywhere- all over his dick, covering your chin, dripping down to your breasts- but you don’t give in as you deepthroat him completely, swallowing a few times before pulling back and running your tongue along the veins of his cock. Jimin is so thick that your jaw actually starts to ache, but a tiny little flicker in his expression when you let his head touch the back of your throat spurs you on. Somewhere in the distance you can hear the director’s approval, but all you can concentrate on is the sloppy sounds emanating from your own mouth, and Jimin’s dark, heady gaze trained on you as he supports your head with his hand, gathering your hair into a messy ponytail.

He is biting his lip hard, a surefire sign that you’re affecting him at least a little bit. Jimin, for his part, is doing his best to fuck your throat evenly and keep his expression unreadable, but when your throat closes and grips his dick, he has to pull you off his cock before he loses his load way too early.

Jimin can see the look of triumph on your face as you pant for air, lipstick smeared around your lips and mascara running down your cheeks. He grips his dick at the base hard, breathing heavily for a few moments to regain control before he bends down to grab you by the waist, tossing you onto the bed.

“Arch for me,” Jimin whispers just under his breath, palm smoothing along the dip in your back. There is a grunt of approval when you push your ass out for his viewing pleasure. “I knew you were good with that mouth, but your punishment isn’t over yet, baby.”

A visible shudder runs throughout your entire frame at the unexpected nickname, exacerbated by the way Jimin strokes the small of your back almost reverently. He spreads your ass cheeks apart to appraise your most intimate parts, and he chuckles when he sees your dripping pussy.

“So here’s what’s going to happen next,” Jimin palms a handful of your ass as he strokes his dick with the other. “I’m going to spank this pretty ass, and you’re not allowed to make a single noise. If you do, there will be consequences.”

Your cheek against the mattress, ass up high for Jimin, you can feel yourself start to drip down your thigh. “Wh-what consequences, Sir?”

Jimin makes no answer, but suddenly you feel the blunt head of his cock against your unlubed asshole, and you pretend to whine and wriggle away from his grasp.

“No, Sir please, please not there,” you are struggling as Jimin grips your waist and pulls you against him just as the script calls for.

“It starts now, slut. Every little noise you make means one inch in your tight ass.” Jimin pulls your cheeks apart to see the head of his cock pressed against your asshole, and he delivers a slap to your right cheek before he leans down so that his tongue traces your earlobe. “I’ll go up to fifteen today, I think. And as much as I’d like to tear that pretty ass open… I’d advise you to keep quiet, dollface.”

Jimin has one hand on the base of his cock, the other alternating between your left and right cheeks, so that your skin burns a bright red with every strike. You can feel Jimin actually putting in his full effort with every slap, not the kind of half-hearted pretending that you’re used to with your co-stars. On his seventh slap you can’t help but cry out into the sheets, the burn on your skin radiating right down to your clit, and Jimin clucks his tongue in disappointment.

“We were so close too…” Jimin sighs as he taps his cock few times at your tight entrance, and you sob in response, clenching your muscles automatically. You can feel Jimin chuckle in amusement as he draws his cock away for a brief moment, and you hear him spit, before feeling a wet and warm substance drip down your asshole. He spreads it around a little with the head of his cock, and despite your scripted pleas and cries, Jimin pushes his cock into your barely lubed ass.

“How’s that feel, slut?” He murmurs as he caresses your bright red and sore ass.

All you have is his saliva and precum lubing you up, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You can feel Jimin’s tender touches on your waist as his way of checking in with you, and the minute action sets you at ease even though you can’t see or touch him to activate your safeword.

“It-it hurts, Sir,” your voice is a low sob as you bury your cheek into the soft bedding, amidst all your arousal, it’s a wonder how you can still remember your lines.

“Then you’ll keep that slutty mouth of yours shut the next time,” Jimin responds with another strike, and this time he can feel the way your muscles clench around his cock, and he swears under his breath, grabbing a handful of your ass to keep him grounded. “Fuck, I can feel your tight little ass around my cock. What a disgusting whore you are, so desperate to get fucked up the ass, hmm?”

Jimin spits again, and his saliva lands right on his cock buried in your ass. He withdraws the tip just a little to work his spit into your ass, as he delivers more spanks. You manage to bite back your cries until the twelfth strike, where you barely whimper against the sheets, but Jimin’s keen ears pick it up. His hips work to drive his cock another inch into your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so that the camera captures every sordid detail.

His cock isn’t the biggest you’ve ever taken, but having him slowly go deeper into your ass like this somehow makes it feel as if he’s stretching you out so good. Your muscles are trembling and you can barely remember to keep your back arched for the camera and Jimin, but if he feels this big in your ass only two inches in, how is he going to feel when he’s balls deep? You clench involuntarily around him on that thought, and a part of you is tempted to just fuck the script and make him bury himself inside your ass fully.

Jimin completes the fifteen slaps sooner than you would have liked, and he rewards you with a kiss between your shoulder blades as he smooths his hands over your ass, pulling his dick out slowly to watch your ass gape for him and the camera.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Turn around and legs spread, whore, I want to fuck you now,” Jimin climbs onto the bed on his knees, hand on his cock guiding himself to your soaked entrance.

His hands grip the back of your knees, forcing your thighs apart for him as he sinks his cock into your pussy. The burn of his penetration nearly makes your eyes roll back into your head- the satisfying girth of him stretches you wide in ways that you’ve never felt before. Jimin works his way deep into your pussy with small strokes, finally bottoming out with your legs on his shoulders and his balls against your ass.

“How are you so fucking tight still? After fucking so many men,” Jimin grunts as he secures your thighs against his chest, leaning over your body and folding you in half. “How many cocks have you had other than mine? Answer me!”

His mouth is against your neck, teeth sinking into your flesh as he marks you. Between his deep thrusts hitting your cervix and his hands around your neck, the cold metal of his rings digging into your skin, it’s all you can do to summon your lines from the recesses of your memory. “Just o-one Sir, I swe-ar, please.”

“Stupid fucking whore,” he growls as he slaps your cheek hard. “How dare you fucking lie to me? Your slutty pussy needs to be stuffed with cock all the time, and you dare tell me you only fucked one other man? I’ll say it was at least five. Five cocks have been in this whore cunt. Tell me, did you make them take turns? Or did you get fucked by two dicks at once?”

“I di-didn’t, please, I’m sorry Sir,” your voice comes in sobs and whines. You scrabble for purchase against his still clothed torso, and you wish you could feel his heated skin under your fingers, mark him with your nails.

“Did you let them cum inside?” Jimin demands again, drawing back and pushing your thighs to your chest so that he can see his cock spreading your pussy lips apart, see your tiny little clit practically begging for attention. “Tell me!”

“No, I didn’t,” you answer him immediately, and something about the possessiveness of his voice seems a little too real, the jealous glint in his eyes that fuels his anger sends a very real thrill that sings through your veins. All you can see is his dark eyes as he fucks into you with his cock, and it is a gaze that is all-consuming, a gaze that makes you forget about all the cameras and the crew, erases them from the background until it is just you and him alone.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll fuck all their cum out of you,” Jimin holds your legs apart as he drives himself deeper into your cunt, stopping when he’s balls deep. “No one can ever fuck you as deep and hard as I can.”

The sounds of skin against skin resonates throughout the set, accompanied by your whines and sobs as Jimin sneaks a hand down to rub your clit even though it isn’t in the script. Caught unaware by his sudden move, it sends you over the edge as you orgasm around him, walls clenching deliciously and body contorting under his grip, screaming his name. He fucks you through your orgasm without missing a beat, and you moan and thrash under his grip from overstimulation, but Jimin only grips your waist with both hands.

“Take it, fucking take my cock, you whore,” he demands as sweat drips down his forehead. “I’m gonna cum so deep inside your pussy, and you’re taking every drop. After that you’re going to walk out of here with cum dripping down your thighs so that everyone knows what a cum slut you are. My favourite little cumslut.”

His thrusts are getting harder and sloppier as a few assistants crowd around behind him, ready to deliver the fake cumshot, but Jimin waves them away impatiently. He can feel his balls churning with the biggest load of his life, and with the camera trained on your bouncing tits, he glances at the director to let him know he’s ready. With the director’s go ahead, he skips to his final few lines just before he cums.

“You ready for my cum, slut? Say it, I want to hear you beg me to cum inside you.” Jimin slaps your cheek once with measured strength. “Fucking beg, or else I’ll finish all over your tits instead.”

“Fuck, no please, don’t cum on my tits,” your mouth is open, clinging on to Jimin’s shoulders as he fucks you into the bed, pounding your cunt with every last bit of strength he has. “In my pussy, please cum in my pussy. I want it, so fucking bad, please sir!”

Jimin is apparently pleased with your begging, and he rewards you with a rare smile, stroking your cheek to soothe the stinging slap he gave you earlier. “Good girl… that’s my cumslut.”

You glance down to where his cock is fucking in and out of your pussy, and Jimin focuses the rest of his attention to hitting you as deep as possible, throwing his head back and letting out a strangled moan as he cums deep inside you, filling you with warm, real cum for the first time in any of your shoots. The real stuff feels so good, so wet and messy, and Jimin’s cock twitching against your walls feels intimate as he thrusts to prolong his orgasm.

From your vantage point you have a front row seat to watch Park Jimin as he revels in his pleasure, and everything from his moans to the way he throws his head back is entirely intoxicating, and you find yourself squeezing your walls around him to prolong his pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s my whore,” he pants as he slowly comes back to his senses, allowing the camera to zoom in on your cunt as he slowly slips out of your used core.

Following the tradition of every one of his videos, Park Jimin gets on his elbows and spreads your pussy lips wide, showing off the globs of real cum that drip from your center as you squeeze your walls to make it even messier. He whispers praise against your skin as he dips two fingers into the unholy mess and coats your clit with it, rubbing you to a final orgasm that makes you whimper and moan, fingers clutching the sheets and hips bucking under his grasp.

“And that’s a cut! Well done everyone!” The director interrupts with a gleeful clapping of his hands, but to your surprise, Jimin doesn’t move from his position between your thighs, not even when his manager comes up behind him with his robe and a bottle of water.

He is still staring at his cum leaking in a steady stream from your pussy, running his fingers through it and playing with your folds with an intrigued look on his face. When you make a move to get up, he glances at you first, then at his manager.

“Hyung, just give me a minute?” Jimin directs this at Sejin, and the older man looks a little confused, but nods and turns away. Around the two of you, all the crew is starting to dismantle the equipment and hurrying around, but Jimin remains focused on you. “Can I?”

“C-can you… what?” Now that the scene is over and the cameras are off, it’s as if the spell has been broken, you are once again self-conscious and all too aware of how vulnerable you seem to be around this man. When Jimin dips his eyes to your pussy and back up to your eyes, your heart nearly stops in your chest. He can’t possibly be… why would he want to…?

“Can I?” Jimin strokes his thumbs against your inner thighs softly, placing a gentle kiss on one side as he licks his lips. “Please? I really want to.”

Breathless, you nod at him, afraid that one more word out of you will make Jimin realise exactly what he’s offering to do, and that he’ll snap out of his lust induced haze. And then gone will be that genuine smile that lights up his entire face, only to be replaced by the condescending smirk that you know all too well.

Jimin starts with wet kisses on both inner thighs, kissing his way to your soaked lips as he begins to gently lick up his spilled cum, gathering it with his fingers to make sure he gets every last drop. This is the scene that you’d been waiting for all this time, clicked through nearly a hundred of his videos in vain. But nothing could compare to seeing it live and up close in person like this. Watching him eat you out when there are no cameras around is strangely intimate, what’s even weirder is the way he maintains eye contact as he continues to suck at your clit, his own cum smeared around his lips as he eats your pussy as if it’s the best dessert in the world.

“Delicious,” he draws back and wipes the back of his mouth with his hand. “Your pussy tastes exactly like how I imagined it. Better with my cum too.”

You clear your throat, still a little sore from deepthroating him earlier as you awkwardly close your legs and scoot away from him, feeling a burning desire to get as far away from this damned man as you can before he sees right through you. “Do you do that with all your co-stars?”

“Would you be jealous if I did?” He shoots you a cocky little wink as he gets to his feet, reaching over to help you up from the bed with his hands around your waist, dipping down to inspect a few bruises on your neck with his fingers. His touches are so gentle and tender that they don’t hurt at all, but you brush him away.

“Jealous? Who? Me?” You laugh it off as Wendy hands you your robe and you snuggle into the warmth of it. As you hide your naked body from his view, your walls come back up, and the defensive mask slides back into place. “You wish, Park. Although I might have to be a little concerned, since fake cum tastes like shit.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” he shrugs. “I only eat the real stuff, and it wasn’t bad, for a first taste.”

Jimin lets his eyes linger on yours for a few moments to allow his words sink in before he turns away to pull on a pair of grey sweatpants and perhaps review the footage a little. “Rest well before next week.”

This is just ironic. Plain and simple, Park Jimin is trying to mess with you.

The second script is a cardinal sin. That’s all you can describe it as. Father Park Jimin with a Catholic schoolgirl confessing her sins in a confession booth.

You run your fingers through your hair in distress. Noting that the costume requirements are red plaid skirt and white shirt. As you read through the entire script, it is a short one, but still present are the elements of degradation and humiliation that require you to position yourself as subservient to the man who shattered your hopes and dreams all those years ago.

It must be a coincidence. There’s no way Park Jimin remembers exactly what he said to you all those years ago.

For you, it might have been a life or death experience that remains etched in your memory forever. But for him, it was just another day on another set humiliating some poor rookie. 

It’s fine. You did it once before and you survived. So who’s to say you won’t survive this one either? You are stubborn and obstinate, you refuse to write that damn email to Jimin and tell him you can’t do this. So you just have to pussy up and fucking commit to this, dammit. Just two more damn shoots.

You have to give it to him though, he is pretty creative as a scriptwriter himself. Or maybe these are just his lewd fantasises? 

Thankfully there’s nothing in this script that requires any preparation, other than learning your lines. Over the next few days as you go about your routine on none schedule days- working out at the gym, indulging in wine and movies, you can’t help but keep the pit of nerves at bay in your stomach. Acknowledging them would give it too much power over you.

When shoot day comes, you nervously change into the outfit provided for you once you reach on set. Donning these clothes bring with them a hoard of heart pounding memories and associations, and it’s all that you can do not to throw up right then and there. You are unusually sweaty as you sit in the chair for hair and makeup.

“Everything okay?” Your makeup artist checks in with you as she powders your nose for the third time. “Nervous?”

You pretend to laugh it off a little. “Yeah, a bit.”

“From what I heard, you and Jimin killed it last shoot,” she grins at you as she replaces the cap on one of her lip glosses. “Don’t need to sweat. Just keep doing whatever you did last time.”

You accept her encouragement with a strained smile even as you stare at yourself in the mirror. From your vantage point, it feels as if you have regressed to that shy, insecure girl from five years ago- you might as well be looking at her now. The same scared expression, except maybe the clothes are better fitting and you’ve definitely grown into your body a little.

“Ready?” The director’s assistant pops her head in with a smile. “We’re all set up and raring to go.”

Shakily, you get up from your chair and follow her with a wobble in your step and an uneven breath. The plaid skirt is tight around your waist and restricts your breathing a little, but you force it to the back of your mind as you see Jimin adjusting his robe. Today he has his hair in a deep side part off his forehead with circle glasses perched at the end of his nose. The rest of him is concealed in long priest robes, and when he spots you, his face lights up.

“______! What do you think of my outfit?” He flourishes his robes and raises his eyebrows. Typical of him to ask someone to tell him how good he looks. Park Jimin looks damn good alright, and he knows it, but it’s not enough unless someone compliments him.

“Very, um… sinful,” you offer him half-heartedly before turning away to let your stylist adjust your hair. You are not in the mood to jibe with him today, even less to stroke his ego.

“What did you think of the script? You didn’t reply to my email, and I realised I don’t have your phone number so I can’t contact you except through your manager, so…” Jimin frowns as he turns to face you. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

His comment catches you off guard. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Me. Committing a cardinal sin. Like I said all those years ago,” Jimin casually turns to face the set, fluffing his hair with a careless hand. “I’m really getting my just desserts, aren’t I?”

A sharp intake of breath betrays your surprise, and you cross your arms tightly over your chest, wanting so badly to just disappear right at that moment. He remembers? He can’t have. Why would someone like Park Jimin remember some fleeting comment he made about not wanting to fuck a rookie? Sure, it may have cut deep for you, but surely for him it can’t have been that memorable. Is he doing all this just to mess with you? What could he possibly want?

“_____? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Jimin’s expression turns sombre as the cocky look on his face disappears. “Is it the script? Is it too much? I can change it if you need me to-“

“Is this some kind of joke?” You accuse him, deciding to just strike first with aggression rather than risk being ridiculed in front of the entire crew later. “Some kind of sick little torture to recreate… this? For your own twisted pleasure?”

Faced with your overly defensive posture reminds him that he’s not dealing with that girl from five years ago anymore. You have changed, the years hardening you over and coating you in a hard little shell that’s almost impossible to break through. Jimin almost wonders why you always immediately assume that everyone is out to belittle or hurt you, but then he realises with a guilty start that it’s partially his own fault.

Blame it all on the stupid arrogant jerk he was five years ago.

“No, it’s not a joke, and neither is it some petty revenge,” Jimin says as calmly as he can. “I don’t know if its sunken in by now, but I told you before that in my shoots, my girls have all the power. So yes, at surface level it may seem like I’m dominating and humiliating you, but what the camera doesn’t see is that you are the one who controls me. A single word from you and I stop.”

His breath is stuck somewhere in his chest. Never before has he felt so vulnerable in front of someone else. Not only do you seem to throw a wrench in the casual uninterested disposition he’s carved out for himself with it comes to his co-stars, there’s something about the way you truly hold his heart in the palm of your hand, even if you don’t know it yet.

Your eyes are brimming with disbelief, posture still defensive as the director calls for everyone to take their places. But you remain silent, thinking his words over as you heed the instructions given by the crew. Jimin follows you closely till you stop just outside the small wooden confession box.

His hands are slightly sweaty as he steps in front of you. Reaching out slowly, to gauge your reaction, Jimin gently places his hand on your chin to tilt your head up towards him. “I’ve always been a believer in actions speaking louder than words. I know you still think of me as that arrogant small dicked jerk who can’t think about anyone other than himself. But let me prove to you that I’ve changed. That’s why I wrote this scene. I want to show you that you are the one in control of me, not the other way around.”

Looking into your eyes, Jimin can see the residual fear and trauma leftover from that incident all those years ago. Silently he begs for a chance, knowing full well that you could just walk out right now and he can’t do a damn thing. Just one chance for him to remedy his mistakes and prove to you that he’s a changed man.

“Let’s get this over with,” you say as you turn and step inside the box, and Jimin lets out a sigh of relief as a staff member ushers him into the other side.

Your knees are shaking slightly as you perch on the chair inside the confession box. Separating you and Jimin is a mesh screen that obscures most of his features, and on the table in front of you are a few props- some candles, a rosary and a fake Bible that looks almost real.

“Scene one rolling in three, two, one… action!”

You pick up the rosary in front of you, feeling the beads with your fingers as you settle into your role, trying your best to drown out your obsessive thoughts and worries. The dark confession booth lends you some anonymity- you’re sure that the lighting has been purposely fixed so that the camera can only catch a glimpse of your silhouette.

“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned,” you recite your first line, clasping the rosary beads in your hands and bowing your head in repentance. “I have come here to confess, Father, to a terrible sin that has been occupying my mind and soul for the past few weeks.”

“Pray, tell my child. What is bothering you?” Jimin’s low, soothing voice comes from the other side. “The truth shall set you free.”

“In school, I can’t concentrate on the lessons, and in mass, my mind is always somewhere else… lately I’ve been feeling so restless, Father,” you sigh, resting your head in your hands. “My thoughts haven’t exactly been… pure.”

There is a brief noise from the other side, as if Jimin is shifting in his seat. “What kind of thoughts are you having? Child, if you do not come clean with me, I cannot cleanse you of your sins.”

You play it up for the camera as it focuses on your face, wearing an expression of conflict, embarrassment and distress all in one. This script that Jimin wrote really tests your acting abilities. “U-unholy ones, Father. They get worse at night, when it’s just me alone in my bed… I can’t help it, it just gets so unbearable…”

“Child, sins of the flesh are against the Holy Scripture,” Jimin clucks in disappointment, and you can feel his look of disapproval singe your skin directly, even though you can’t even see his face. “What do you do in your bed when you’re all alone? Are you engaging with these unholy thoughts? Come clean with your Father if you want absolution.”

“I…” you swallow hard in embarrassment, pressing your thighs tightly together as you tug your skirt down, playing the role of the innocent school girl. The skirt is barely long enough for you to sit on, so you can feel your ass, left bare by the thong you’re wearing underneath it, come into direct contact with the chair underneath you. “I… I touch myself, Father.”

Another sigh of disappointment from Jimin as you hear him flipping a few pages of the fake Bible. “You have to be more specific, my child. Where do you touch yourself? Tell me, or else I cannot help you, and you shall be damned to Hell.”

“M-my… I touch myself… down there,” you whimper, feeling yourself dampen against your thong as you start to grind into the chair, thighs parting sinfully as the camera relocates itself to between your legs. You give it a few glimpses of your covered core as your hips rotate slowly. “Please don’t make me say any more, Father… it’s so sinful, so embarrassing, and I…”

There is a slam on the other side as if Jimin has closed the Bible forcefully. “A sinful whore like you, embarrassed? I think not. Look at yourself. Confessing to your Father that you touch yourself, and you can’t even bring yourself to say the word ‘pussy’. You think you’re still an innocent little girl, but your actions tell me otherwise. Go on with your confession, slut. We’re not done yet.”

You whimper as your thong is getting more and more soaked, and your breasts are heaving against your tight shirt. “I… I think about it at school too, Father. At mass. I sneak out in the middle to rub myself in the toilet, and then I… I come back to mass. Sweaty and my fingers still sticky.”

“In school too?” Father Jimin’s voice is a low purr now that sends shockwaves all the way to your core, and you can’t help but rub yourself against the chair, legs parting all the way. To a certain extent, the embarrassment on your cheeks is real, for Jimin has yet to touch you or even see you to get you this worked up, and even though you despise it, his degrading and humiliating words only serve to spur you on and add to your performance.

He surely knows how to bring out the best of you.

“What about boys?” Father Jimin suddenly demands. “Do you have a boyfriend? Do you let him touch your sweet little pussy? Put his fingers inside you at mass while you recite the Holy Scripture? Rub your pretty little clit until your sinful mouth cries out? I bet a little slut like you wants all the cock she can get. Tell me, do you lift your little plaid skirt for any boy who passes by?”

Hearing the jealousy and possessiveness in his voice only sends a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties, and at this point you’re pretty sure that the chair is wet too.

“No! No Father Jimin, no boys,” you beg and plead earnestly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jimin makes a low groan in his throat, a noise that makes your nipples ache. “Fuck, then you’re a tease. Nothing but a little cocktease. Look at you. Do you really think I don’t know you’re rubbing your little pussy against the chair while you confess your sins?”

You gasp in shock as the script calls for, hips immediately stilling. “Father Jimin, please, I can’t help myself.”

“If I have any say in it, your sweet pussy will remain pure and untouched except by the Father himself,” Jimin groans lowly from the other side, and you can hear his slight panting. “Tell me, my child. Do you want to receive forgiveness for your carnal sins?”

“Yes,” you gasp immediately, feeling your hips jerk and your clit catch deliciously against the chair through your soaked underwear. “Please, Father forgive me. For I have sinned.”

“Ask and you shall be rewarded, seek and you shall find,” Jimin says as he gets up from his chair. “Bend over the table for me, sweet child.”

Raising yourself on shaky legs, you prop the upper half of your body on the table, back arched as the camera relocates behind you to give Jimin time to cross over from his side of the confession booth. You can feel your thigh high socks rub against each other as your thighs chafe in your impatience.

“Look how slutty you are in your school uniform… fuck, boys would be all over this ass in an instant,” Jimin gives you a harsh spank to your right cheek, and you gasp and writhe under him. “In order for me to rid you of your sins, I have to thoroughly cleanse you here.”

His fingers massage your ass, splitting your cheeks open and revealing your most intimate places to him and the camera. Jimin runs his fingers along your inner thigh, just shy of your thigh high socks, up until he brushes against your swollen pussy lips. The crotch of your little white thong is soaked, and Jimin uses his fingers to push it into your pussy.

“That’s it, sweet child… show Father Jimin all your sins,” he massages your panties deeper into your pussy with two fingers. “Show Father Jimin how sweet your pussy looks when its stuffed.”

“Father,” you whine low in your throat, wiggling your ass against his thighs. To which he responds with a sharp spank on your left cheek that smarts.

“On your knees, harlot,” Father Jimin commands, pulling you off the table by your hair and taking a seat on your chair, spreading his legs. “I think you need a taste of the Holy Staff to cleanse that impure mouth of yours.” He parts his robes to reveal his dress pants, unzipping and revealing his cock, red and throbbing with precum already leaking out of it. “Time for Holy Communion, my sweet child. Open up wide and receive the gift of Christ.”

You feel the saltiness of his cock against your tongue as he slides in deep, spearing your throat open as he thrusts into your face. Jimin’s balls brush against your chin as you swallow him deep, tears springing to your eyes as he controls your movements with his hand buried in your hair. You are choking and gasping around his cock noisily, and Jimin just eats up every single sound as he continues to ravish your mouth mercilessly.

From his viewpoint, seeing you on your knees has Jimin confident enough that he can muster up two loads for this scene. He just wants to watch your mouth fill with his cum, watch you swallow every drop of his salty essence, and show him your empty mouth after that.

“Suck me, yes, good, just like that, harlot,” Jimin demands as he pushes you down on his cock. “Suck your Father and feel my cum fill your mouth. Swallow down my blessing, so that you may strive for the salvation and absolution that you so seek.”

He can feel you twitch in surprise at the sudden demand for you to swallow his cum, but you sink down on his cock readily, looking up at him with wide and innocent eyes that nearly makes him blow his load right then and there. He looks off to the side to the director to gain his approval before Jimin starts to thrust again, feeling his balls tighten. With a strangled groan, Jimin feels his cock swell in your perfect mouth between those red lips, and he unleashes a torrent of bitter, salty cum into your mouth, swearing as you suckle on his cock like an infant, coaxing every drop from him.

“Swallow every drop,” Jimin pulls away from your mouth, his spent length twitching. You flash him a naughty little smirk as you clean a drop of cum from your mouth salaciously, opening your mouth to show him the reservoir of cum inside before your throat swallows, and you show him your empty mouth.

“Enough, harlot,” he declares as he pulls you up. Jimin watches as you pant desperately for air, tear stained cheeks and precum staining your chin. “You have dabbled in impure and unholy thoughts, my child. Sins of the flesh must be purified, for your body is a gift from God and not a receptacle for lust. Your body must be kept pure and untouched except for the man God intends you to marry and have babies with.”

Jimin leans back, thighs spread as his eyes linger over your thighs. “Sweet child, have you followed the rules of the Catholic Church? Are you on birth control, or any form of contraception that isn’t allowed by the Church?”

“N-no, Father,” you whimper. “My body is pure and untouched, as nature intended it to be.”

A pleased yet somehow also wicked smile crosses his face, but vanishes just a second later. “Good, my child. Be seated on your Father’s lap.”

“And cut!” The director yells, and Jimin lets go of you immediately, his spent length limp against his inner thigh. You turn around to watch a stylist clean him up carefully, an odd sensation in your throat when you see how unbothered Jimin is as he lets random strangers touch his soft cock.

Jimin is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his thick, plush lips parted and looking like the devil himself as he gulps down some water that someone hands him, running his hand through his sweat soaked hair. Droplets of water travel down his neck as he drinks carelessly from the bottle, and you can feel your core pulse painfully. He catches you looking at him as an assistant sponges his soft cock, and he raises his eyebrows before glancing down at his crotch.

You step outside to have a few breaths of fresh air.

Jimin looks over at you as his stylist removes his circle glasses for a polish. “Doing okay? First half was intense.”

In your mind’s eye you have no doubt that you look wrecked beyond belief. Cheeks flushed with arousal, nipples hard and straining against your thin shirt- they didn’t give you a bra today- and you try and tamp down your embarrassment, replacing it with professionalism instead as you give him a taciturn nod. “Was alright.”

Someone hands you a bottle of water and you gulp gratefully. You can feel the wet stickiness between your thighs start to drip, and hope to whatever deity residing above you that Jimin can’t smell it.

“You were doing great,” Jimin says unexpectedly, getting up and tucking himself back into his pants just for modesty’s sake, especially as he moves closer to you. “Really got me so fucking turned on without even seeing you.” With his nose and lips dangerously close to your neck, you can feel your heart pounding against your ribs. “Now I know why you’re so good at what you do. The innocent yet naughty thing really works for you.” Jimin gives you his greasy little smile that doesn’t make you feel as disgusted as you thought you would be and is almost… endearing?

And as a scriptwriter he knew perfectly well what kind of role would suit you. You didn’t see it before, but you’re able to show off your innocent charm in the best ways possible with this script, and Jimin as an actor complements you perfectly as well. 

As much as you try to deny it- you have to admit that this man turns you on. Park Jimin has this intriguing charisma with his offscreen personality that draws you in. Although it’s a whiplash from his cold, domineering onscreen persona, you can’t say that his dominance isn’t equally arousing either- it’s all just so confusing. You never thought you’d enjoy letting the most hated man in your life dominate you, but here you are, getting wet after a few insults from him.

“Can I kiss you?” He says suddenly, and you realise he’s been staring at your lips for a while. 

The question shocks you to your core, and you take a step back involuntarily but Jimin follows your body with his, his hand coming around your back, but not touching your skin. Around you, various crew are still running around changing the lighting and modifying the set and doing who knows what, so no one is paying any attention to the two of you. Jimin still holds your hand in his as he stands with his body mere inches away from yours. “Just once. Please.”

You realise you’ve never kissed any of your co-stars before, much less outside of a scene. Jimin looks at you so earnestly that you almost can’t recognise him as the man who so cruelly put you down all those years ago, nor can you reconcile it with your perception of him as a selfish, cold bastard. Your head dips ever so slightly, and Jimin grins as he leans in.

His lips are soft and pleasant against yours, a very relaxed kiss with him leading and his hand soft against your back. It seems to be over far too quickly though, for he pulls back with a genuine smile on his lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you that day in the locker room,” he admits as he glances away, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that you recognise as embarrassment.

The great Park Jimin, embarrassed? You must be seeing things. He grins at your expression and boldly takes your hand in his, pulling you to feel his crotch where his cock is hard, again. In a mere span of minutes, just from kissing you alone.

Your cheeks heat up, whether in embarrassment, arousal, or flattery, you have no idea. But Park Jimin doesn’t seem the least bit ashamed as he palms his cock with your hand over it, licking his sinful, thick lips as he admires the curve of your neck, the soft flesh that he wants to mark with his teeth.

“It… it wasn’t a bad kiss,” you begrudgingly allow him to grin at your half-hearted compliment. “Not the best, though.”

You feel Jimin chuckle briefly against your neck, his breath skimming your heated skin. “Playing hard to get. I love it. You’re better than Viagra for me, sweetheart.”

Before you can react to the tender nickname, the director calls for everyone to take their places, and you step away from him with your heart pounding, back into your side of the confession booth. Standing in front of the chair as per where you left off last time, you feel more than see Jimin follow you into your side now. His thighs brush against your ass as he sits down, getting his once again hard cock out of his pants before he places his hands on your waist. With your back to him it’s easier to calm your racing heart even as you prepare yourself for the next scene.

“It’s gonna get a little rough from here on, you know that right?” Jimin’s voice is a low murmur as you feel his hands on your waist soothingly. “Just remember you can tap out anytime. You have all the power.”

“Okay.” You turn your cheek to the side to get a glimpse of him smiling back at you. Once the director starts rolling, however, it disappears entirely into a cold mask again, and porn star actor Park Jimin is back.

You turn and step backwards, feeling his hands on your waist guiding you as you start to sit down. His cock brushes against your ass, and you whimper in fear as the script calls, struggling to stand up again.

“Shhhh, my child, do not be afraid, for your Father is here,” Jimin whispers, pulling you firmly down and spreading your thighs for the camera. His sticky cockhead brushes against your inner thighs, and you fight against his strength as Jimin seeks to impale your tiny virgin hole with his cock. “My beautiful child, cursed and sinful harlot, are you ready to receive your anointing? Are you ready for the Holy Spirit to enter your impure body and cleanse you from the inside out?”

Your pussy is still wet and dripping despite the cut, and you can almost feel Jimin smirk as he takes in the implications of this.

“Yes, Father Jimin please… please enter me,” your legs are trembling as Jimin slowly lowers you onto his cock, and the head of him breaches your entrance.

“Lower yourself fully, my child, and accept your position at the Lord’s feet where you belong,” Father Jimin pulls you to sit fully upon him, cock now buried deep in your supposedly virgin pussy as you cry out. He bends to gather your thighs in his grip, fully opening your legs and exposing your stuffed cunt to the camera, bidding you to rest your full weight upon him. “Recite your rosary, sweet child, and rejoice in your blessing.”

And then he begins to fuck up into your cunt with measured strokes, reciting a prayer under his breath as he does so. His hands grip your thighs apart and his thrusts are harsh, punishing against you as his cock bottoms out all the way to your womb.

“Fuck, this sweet pussy, meant to be used for your Father’s pleasure, meant to worship your Father’s cock with reverence,” Father Jimin pants as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy. “You won’t let any other boy touch it, will you my sweet? Only Father Jimin.”

“O-only Father Jimin,” you repeat after him as he fondles your clit with his expert fingers that makes you wail and thrash on top of him, the camera zooming in to capture your expression as your orgasm around him, switching to your pussy to focus on how it grips him like perfect velvet.

His thrusts are speeding up and getting sloppy now- you recognise the cadence of it as he races for his climax.

“Are you ready to receive your blessing, harlot?” Father Jimin growls as he tightens a hand around your throat, cutting off your air supply. “F-fuck, forgive me, God!” He groans loudly as his hips thrust a few more times and he is spilling into your depths, filling you up with his second load of the day, covering your cervix with his thick, warm anointment and blessing.

You can do nothing but writhe on his cock as your walls clench around him, feeling your womb swell with his gifts. He is still twitching and spurting inside you; it feels strangely intimate for him to hold you as he comes down from his high. Whether it’s because Park Jimin is the first man to ever cum inside you bare like this, or if it’s because of something else, you’ll never know. The camera focuses on his rapidly softening cock as it slips from your pussy, cream immediately leaking from your centre and dripping down your ass and inner thighs.

Jimin’s fingers skim down your body to play with the remnants of his offering left at your altar, and his other hand is over your lower belly suggestively. His fingers slide over your dripping slit, gathering up some of his cum mixed with your arousal as he brings it up to your clit, rubbing and pinching as you continue to leak his cum all over his softening cock that is resting against your inner thigh.

With a cry, you cum again, swollen cunt clenching around nothing and oozing more of his cum out. Jimin soothes you with a few kisses to your neck that feels oddly intimate, and are definitely not in the script as you come down from your high. 

His lips are poised close to your ear as he delivers the final lines of the scene. “My sweet child, I have a feeling you’ll be back here with another confession in 9 months. May your time away from me bear fruit.”

“CUT! Brilliant, amazing, I was blown away!” The director claps his hands as you sag against Jimin, thighs slipping off his frame. “Someone help them clean up, and it’s a wrap! Thank you!”

Jimin situates you more firmly on his lap so that you won’t fall off, carefully helping you stand up as his cum leaks from your centre. An assistant hands you a wet tissue and you take a few steps away from Jimin so you can clean yourself up, but he follows you, snatching the wet tissue from you and cleaning your inner thighs himself.

“Jimin, stop, I can do it myself,” you start to protest, but it seems like nothing can stand in the way of Jimin’s obsession with his cum on you. He purposely catches a glob of it on his finger and brings it to his mouth, making eye contact with you as he licks his finger sinfully.

“Any chance of doing a sequel with that?” Jimin grins perversely, pushing himself to stand as he hands the used wipe to an assistant. “The title can be, ‘Blessed with my Father’s Baby’. What do you think?”

“I’m not doing a pregnancy porn shoot with you, Park,” you roll your eyes and put on the robe your manager hands you. “If that’s the last script, consider me out. I’m breaking the contract.”

Even as you walk out with Jimin’s amused gaze still on your back, a thought occurs to you that this shoot wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. There was no signs of the panic attacks, traumatic memories and actual, real humiliation even though you spent most of the scene grovelling at Park Jimin’s feet, sucking his cock and being used thoroughly by him. In fact, as you walk away from the man himself, you start to realise that maybe he is right about this whole domination business—you had the upper hand all along.

The last scene is so unlike the previous two that you have to pause and make sure that the sender of the email is Park Jimin. After you confirmed it three times, you click back to the pdf file and read it through again, just to make sure you’re not seeing things.

A newly-wed couple on their wedding night, consummating their marriage for the first time.

You swallow hard, noting that there isn’t any of the dominance and humiliation that Jimin usually has in his scripts. Instead, it seems to require intimacy and chemistry between the two actors, seeing as there are barely any lines for you to memorise. All he’s given you is a brief premise and description of positions from start to finish, and at the end he put a director’s note that all of this is to be very loosely followed.

The premise of the script remains in your mind even as you go through your workouts at the gym. Sweat drips down your face as you increase the speed on the treadmill, wishing that life was as easy as just running away from all your problems like this.

Can you even act that well? Jimin seems to have too much faith in your acting skills, though you know that he probably has no problem mustering up the appropriate emotions for this scene. But you on the other hand… your feelings towards Jimin have been getting more and more confusing. If this goes on any longer, it’ll be hard for you to draw a firm line between the two of you, much less keep on convincing yourself that he is the selfish, proud and egotistical bastard you always thought he was.

Why does he have to write such a corny and awful script? This will really put your acting skills to the test. You swear at him under your breath as you punch the stop button on the treadmill, grabbing your towel and stepping off. Taking a swig of your water, you continue to curse his obnoxiously handsome face as you walk to the locker room—

“Did you just say my name?” A familiar voice startles you and you nearly drop your phone as you turn around.

Jimin has his silver hair slightly matted and damp, sticking to his forehead. He’s obviously here for a workout, dressed in a thin white shirt that is see through with his sweat, and some workout shorts that show off the thickness of his thighs. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit or perfectly pressed dress pants, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander over how built his physique is. Slim, yet wiry, he is the epitome of sleek, elegant power as he pushes his sweaty hair off his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his firm biceps as he does so.

“Wh-when did you start coming to this gym?” You avert your gaze by taking a gulp of water.

“Since I heard you went here,” he grins shamelessly, stopping at the water cooler for a refill.

This is the first time you’ve interacted with him outside of a porn shoot, and even though you’ve practically seen his dick, had it inside you, done all sorts of sordid things with him— you feel awkward around him, especially when you think about the shoot you’ll have to do with him soon.

“I’ll um… see you tomorrow then. Ha-have a good workout,” you mumble under your breath, making a wide berth around him to head for the lockers and showers. The stutter in your voice makes you cringe.

“Hey— you didn’t get back to me about the script. Is it okay?” Jimin turns off the tap at the water cooler and follows you for a few steps.

You turn back to him and study his face carefully. He doesn’t seem to be teasing you or making fun of you, in fact he is completely serious. Should you be honest and tell him what you’re really worried about, or should you beat around the bush?

“… it’s a different script. Different from what you usually do,” you finally say.

Jimin shrugs, unperturbed. “Different, yes. But different is good, and I wanted to try something new since… since it’s with you. I thought since our last two shoots were more of my style, we could incorporate yours for the final one. So that there’s some kind of balance. Is there a problem? Or did you change your mind about that pregnancy shoot?”

His little teasing voice makes your cheeks heat up involuntarily. You are irritated with yourself, at how you always seem to be at a loss for words around him, at how he always affects you just so.

“It’s just… it’s very brief. I’m not sure I know how you want it to go.” You fret with your hands a little, avoiding eye contact with Jimin. “If there were more lines, more stage directions, more things like that. I’d feel more confident about doing it with you.”

“Ah, it’s about that,” Jimin makes a humming noise in his throat as he considers your words. “I purposely didn’t include many scripted lines because I thought it wouldn’t fit with how I envisioned this entire scene to go. In my mind I saw two lovers, passionate yet innocent, celebrating their love for the first time. Lines would make everything kind of awkward and artificial, don’t you think? We should let it flow naturally. Get into the mood and character with each other.”

While Jimin is speaking, you can sense that he really does have a passion for acting, and not just the scripted trash that porn actors usually dole out. You’ve witnessed his genuine talent when it comes to immersing himself in a scene, admired him for how he seems to have two sides to his personality, and how he can switch between his on and off screen persona so fluidly.

“I definitely won’t have a problem getting into character. I could help you if you need me to… but somehow I feel like you don’t.” His voice is a low baritone against the shell of your ear, and his words are suggestive. Jimin smiles confidently as he steps closer to you. “At least, I hope by now you don’t think I’m still that stuck up jerk.”

Jimin’s eyes are fixated on your forehead, and he’s so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. He reaches up to wipe a drop of sweat from your forehead, and then his thumb brushes against your cheek. “If you need more stage directions… then let me just say I think we’ll be doing a lot of kissing. A lot.”

He lets his hand drop as he meets your eyes again, waiting for your response as a he grins at you. Jimin drops his eyes to your lips as his tongue dips out to caress his own plush ones. You think back to the last time he kissed you in between scenes, and you can feel your traitorous heart skip a beat in your chest. It flusters you so much that you can only step away from him and throw a hasty goodbye over your shoulder as you flee.

“Last shoot of the contract!” Wendy sings as she brings you your iced coffee. “Are you relieved?”

The useless script sits in front of you as you take a sip from your drink absently. “Why would I be relieved?”

“You get paid after this, and they’ll be releasing the first film shortly after. And I thought you hated Park Jimin, so isn’t it a relief that you won’t have to work with him anymore?”

You consider her words carefully as a few stylists adjust your outfit, hair and makeup. Today you are wearing all white, a lace bralette that skims your waist and accentuates your breasts, along with a pair of matching panties and a garter set. Over it all you have a sheer lace cardigan that drapes over your shoulders. “I don’t exactly… hate him, I guess. He isn’t as bad as I thought he was.”

You set aside the script and take a few sips of your drink before handing it to Wendy, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you follow the assistant director’s cue to get ready on set. As usual, Jimin is already on set and mixing with the crew, but when he sees you, he comes over straightaway.

His eyes are taking you in from head to toe, and for once it’s his turn to be speechless. This is exactly what he fell for the moment Sejin hyung showed him your picture, an angel draped in white. For a moment Jimin actually lets himself believe that all of this is real, that you and him are actually newly-weds waiting to consummate your marriage... all for the sake of helping him get into character, of course. Not for anything else.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly, nervously putting his hands in his pockets to keep him from running them through his hair and ruining his stylist’s hard work. “I’m a lucky man.”

Jimin is talking as if all of this is real, and it sets you on edge. This is dangerous. You should never have agreed to doing this script in the first place. Out of all the shoots you’ve done with him, you feel as if this is the most nerve wracking and outside your comfort zone you’ve ever been.

It’s all for the shoot, you remind yourself, forcing yourself to put aside your feelings and remain professional. All for the shoot, and nothing else. Since Jimin has a distinction between his on screen and off screen persona, you should have one too.

“Everyone on set, and initial positions please!” The director calls, and Jimin takes your hand in his, leading you to the door frame of the bedroom set they have today.

He pulls you in closer to him, arms around your waist so that your body is touching his intimately. Abruptly his legs give out and you fall into his lap, his arms around your waist and chest to chest with Park Jimin as he grins insufferably. 

You make a sound of protest even as you try to get off his lap- this position is far too intimate, you can feel the heat of his thighs against your core- but Jimin halts your movements with a pout. He nestles you comfortably straddling his hips, eyes glittering as he grins at you. 

“Jimin, filming hasn’t started yet-”

“I know, I know, get into the mood with me? C’mon, I promise it’ll help. We’re supposed to be married, you know.” He plays with a strand of your hair in his fingers, tucking it behind your ear. 

Reluctantly, you start to relax in his lap as you wait for the crew to get ready. Being on his lap like this isn’t all that bad. It isn’t awkward like you thought it would be. Jimin is holding your waist and humming in his throat as he leans in to smell your hair, his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear. Each and every one of his actions is so natural and thoughtless that if you let yourself go for one moment- you could almost believe this is real and not reel. 

The thin layers of your lingerie do nothing to obscure how warm and firm he feels, and you can see Jimin admiring every inch of your body with unabashed hunger in his eyes, and another emotion that you can’t quite identify. Being this close to him has your heart rate and temperature sky rocketing, and you can feel him rapidly growing hard against your stomach. Jimin’s eyes are soft as he leans in to kiss you even before the director says anything else.

Surprisingly, the kiss settles your nerves rather than worsens them, and you feel yourself relaxing into his touch, closing your eyes and forgetting about everyone else other than the man kissing you right now. Jimin is soft and gentle with his touches, even more tender with his kisses today, and your head lolls to the side to give him more access when he starts to kiss down your neck, sucking along your collarbone and pushing your lace cardigan off your shoulder.

Belatedly you realise that filming must have already started— but then why didn’t you hear the director’s voice…? Jimin brings your attention back to him with his wet tongue on your chest, licking and suckling bruises into your skin.

“Can’t fucking believe you’re all mine,” he moans into your skin, sinking his teeth into the lace and pulling it away from your breast, only to let it snap back into place. “After all these years of running from me, finally, you’re here.”

A jolt runs through your frame as you take in his words; they sound way too specific to your situation. To hide your shock, you moan his name and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Jimin, I—“

“I love you, so much,” Jimin interrupts you as he starts to undo your bra, his eyes bright and lips swollen. To you he looks exactly the same as five minutes ago, you really can’t tell if he’s acting or not. He didn’t But he must be acting— this is a scene, and there’s no way he’s actually in love with you… right?

“I love you too,” you whisper back as your breasts are bared to the camera and to Jimin’s reverent gaze. He takes them in his hands, one nipple in his mouth as he sucks on it, occasionally flicking it with his tongue.

“On the bed, baby. Let me love you like you deserve tonight.” Jimin helps you to lie down on the white canopy bed, and the camera shifts to take in an overhead shot of you on your back as Jimin positions himself between your legs.

From anyone else those lines would have sounded cheesy. Heck, if you knew they were scripted, you would have been struggling not to cringe right then and there. But somehow, knowing that Park Jimin is just throwing himself fully into his character, that he’s fully present with you in this scene makes it hyper realistic, such that if not for the cameras around you, you’d have trouble differentiating between real and reel.

Jimin starts from your bare breasts, kissing his way down your stomach till he reaches the tops of your thighs. This is a Jimin you’ve never seen before. He is soft, loving and looks as if he is content to spend the rest of his life between your thighs worshipping you.

“Wet already? And I haven’t even done much yet,” he smirks as he notices the wet spot on your panties, rubbing his thumb into it so that you can feel your own stickiness on your skin. The camera zooms in to capture the evidence of your arousal, and Jimin slowly starts to peel your panties off, his other hand on your inner thigh, spreading your legs for him as he sucks another bruise into your skin. “Gonna mark you and make you nice and pretty for me, hmmm?”

He spreads you with his thick fingers, examining your most intimate places with a reverent gaze that makes your cheeks heat up. Jimin glances at your reaction with a tiny little chuckle at how cute you are, then he teases you with little licks at your clit that have you mewling and whining under his touch.

“You just need your pussy to be eaten out real good, right baby? No one eats this pussy better than me. Tell me.” Jimin pauses with his lips shining from your arousal.

Being far too used to the dominant side of him, seeing needy little Jimin who aches for your praise nearly makes you cum all over his tongue right away.

“J-Jimin, you’re the only man who can eat me so good,” you weave your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as you beg for his tongue once more. “Please baby, I- I want to cum. Want your cock now.”

“Begging already?” He grins as he buries his face into your pussy, lewd little sucking sounds emanating as he tastes you from the inside out, tongue delving deep into your folds and spreading you apart for him. “My greedy girl. You’re so sweet, look at this pussy. Dripping so much, and it’s all for me. Can you cum like this for me first?”

Your hips are starting to arch off the bed with every lick and suck he gives you. Park Jimin truly is number one at pussy eating, and to have him praising you like this, calling you his while in between your thighs elicits a flutter in your stomach, a racing of your heart that you can’t seem to control. Jimin allows your hips to move freely, grinding into his face as you ride his tongue to your orgasm, thighs trembling and his name spilling from your lips as he licks every inch of your pussy.

“Jimin.” You whine needily and stretch out your arms for him, and Jimin chuckles as he crawls up the bed to meet your lips with his. You can taste yourself on his lips, but it doesn’t throw you off in the least as your tongues clash and moans spill from the both of you.

“Tell me I did well. Tell me how good I made you feel,” Jimin whispers against your neck. 

Your legs come up to circle his waist, cradling him intimately into your centre, and you can feel his hard cock rub against you. “So, so good, you made me feel so good baby,” your chest heaves as your arch your body into his. “The only man who can make me feel like that.” 

Jimin shifts back onto his knees to admire how fucked out you already look, hair spilling over the pillow and cheeks all flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. He places his hands behind your knees, pushing your thighs back to your chest to further expose your swollen pussy lips and your dripping center to him.

“Fuck, you look so fucking pretty like this,” Jimin caresses the lace garter on your thighs. “All spread out and dripping for me. Say what you want and I’ll give it to you, princess.”

His thumb caresses your clit lightly, and your thighs twitch, a whine spilling from your lips. “Your cock. I want your cock. Fuck me, please.”

“Such a sweet but dirty little mouth,” Jimin grins, satisfied as he reaches down to kiss you again, one hand on his cock and brushing his head against your lips. You can feel his sticky precum spread all over you as he thrusts forward with his fluid hips.

The first stretch of his cock makes you arch your back, and Jimin presses your thighs to your chest further, feeling you tighten around him. He continues to work his cock into your soaked depths, praising you for how tight and good you feel around him as he finally bottoms out. His lips are brushing against your collarbone as his cock grinds against your cervix, but the pain is a welcome one.

You brush a few strands of sweat soaked hair out of his eyes, watching his expression as he closes his eyes and withdraws from your clenching pussy. Today Jimin seems to be closer to the edge than usual even though you didn’t even suck him off, and he seems to be trying his best not to blow his load right now as he delivers hard thrusts into your pussy. He flashes you a shy little grin that makes your stomach flip as your eyes meet, and as you purse your lips to give him a tiny little kiss at the corner of his mouth, that’s when you realise it— you are actually in love with Park Jimin.

Somehow, somewhere along the lines, you stopped acting. Maybe it was never an act all along. But what about Jimin?

“So tight, so pretty, so wet for me,” Jimin grunts into your neck as his hips speed up, cock battering your pussy as you feel yourself dripping all around him, wetness coating his balls and his base. “I can’t wait to start a family with you. Like this. Just the two of us.”

The talk of starting a family once again reminds you that this is a shoot where you’re supposed to be newlyweds.

“Give it to me,” you stroke his cheek with your thumb, smiling up at him gently as he presses your thighs to your chest, grunting with the effort of fucking into you with his cock. “Want your baby.”

As you lock eyes with him, you realise that Jimin isn’t acting either. Unlike the previous shoots where the transition from his offscreen to onscreen persona was painfully obvious, this time Jimin’s face isn’t the cold mask he puts on during shoots. Park Jimin wears all his emotions on his face— and all this while you thought he was a heartless, cold bastard.

Then, it becomes painfully clear to you why he didn’t write any lines for the two of you, simply because they aren’t needed. This intimate gaze between the two of you says it all, and it conveys more than what a few lines ever could. You raise your head to meet his lips again, and the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy slowly, his lips against yours and his tongue licking your bottom lip tenderly makes you feel as if you are really lovers.

“I can’t hold it much longer,” Jimin admits, pushing himself onto his knees and letting your legs stretch out to rest on his shoulders. From this here he can see every inch of your beautiful body, breasts bouncing with every thrust of his, and the way your pussy takes his cock so well.

“Cum for me?” You reach down to brush your fingers across his firm abdomen, walls starting to clench around his cock as Jimin circles his thumb around your clit. “Please?”

At the sound of your sweet begging, Jimin decides to throw all caution to the wind and chase his orgasm just how he’s dying to— pounding into your wet cunt with his cock and feeling you clench around him; your little whines and moans egging him on. A few more thrusts inside your warmth and he buries himself as deep as he can go, throwing his head back and exposing his pretty throat as he cums inside you.

The warmth of his cum seeps into your pussy as he fills you up to the brim, even more than he’s ever cum before. Even after he’s done spurting into your depths, Jimin continues to thrust lazily, fucking his cum deeper into you and chasing your lips with his. When his cock has softened too much for him to keep going, he pulls out and positions himself in between your thighs.

“You didn’t cum yet did you baby?”

“N-no, not yet, oh! Jimin, what are you—“ Even though this isn’t the first Jimin eats his cum from your used pussy, it never fails to bring a blush onto your cheeks, watching him slurp and kiss your lower lips messily with his semen all over his chin.

But he licks it all up like it’s the rarest delicacy in the entire world.

You’re so absorbed by his endearing little grin as he licks his plush lips that you almost don’t hear the director call cut.

“Park, _____, this may be your best work yet!” He is starstruck, eyes shining with admiration as he clasps his hands to his chest. “I could really feel all the emotion, for a moment I really believed that you were lovers! Well done, both of you. It’d be my pleasure to work with you again!”

You call out a thanks to the director as you start to get up from the bed, closing your thighs. But Jimin has his arms around your waist and stops you from getting up, pulling you closer into his side. Now, you feel as if it’s time to address the elephant in the room. There was a definite chemistry sparking in between the two of you just now, you’d be a fool to deny it.

“Jimin…”

“Shhh, just a while more. I’m tired.” Jimin whines, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you, and his casual yet intimate gesture despite the cameras being off only makes you melt even more. There is a comfortable silence between you for a moment.

“You weren’t acting just now, were you?” You reach out to pinch his cheek, and he grins shamelessly. “You wrote this last scene on purpose. Trying something new my ass.”

“Am I that obvious?” Jimin’s eyes light up with mischief. “But it wasn’t to annoy you this time. I just knew you’d fall in love with me once I made love to you.”

You place a hand on his chest and push him away slightly. “Excuse me? In love? Getting cocky now aren’t we, Mr Park?” 

Jimin doesn’t deny it as he buries his face into your neck, giggling. “Stop or I’ll get hard again.” 

“You get hard by hearing me call you Mr Park?” 

“Can we role-play Fifty Shades next?” Jimin asks. “I think I have a kink for Mr Park. I always wanted to be a rich CEO. Can I gag you with my tie?” 

“You kinky bastard,” you mutter under your breath even as a smile tugs at your lips. “But wait. Our contract is over.”

Jimin hums in thought as he kisses your shoulder. “I thought we could enter a different contract this time.”

“Different? Like how?”

“A more personal one, with no scripts involved. Still exclusive, though,” Jimin is grinning, the sneaky little punk.

“Oh really? What exactly does this contract entail?”

Jimin pretends to think for a while before he answers. “Roleplaying Fifty Shades with me, for one. I was thinking we could do a professor student one too. Oh and also, a nursemaid one. And last but not least... go on a date with me.”

He’s so sneaky that it makes you laugh. “Signed, sealed and delivered. But just so you know, I’m fucking your ass this time.”  

[gear-project]

Maybe I overinterpret it, but isn't Sin depressed of something? He's been through a lot in his life and it's hard for me to believe that it didn't affect his psyche.

Hmm... while he has experienced an emotional roller-coaster, he is by no means depressed.

As of GG2, he had to come to grips with the decisions his father (Ky Kiske) made to protect his mother and the Kingdom of Illyria.  Sin also had to deal with his rage issues in that regard as well, but at the time, Valentine ambushed him and brainwashed him.

It was Sol who ended up saving Sin from the darkest emotions he was having, though Sol was rough around the edges with him, Sol literally "dumped him off" by Ky to assist Ky in the fight against the Vizuel Army as a simplistic way of showing Sin that "this is what your father's really like".

After a conversation where Sin reached an understanding with Ky, Ky sent him off yet again on a mission only someone like Sin could pull off: save Sol and the others from Valentine!

Crazy though it was, Sin managed to pull it off and save everyone from Valentine's Dark Gamma Ray attack at the last minute with his famous line: "Traffic sucked getting here!"

While Sol was busy dismantling the Cube, Sin had to take the fight to Valentine herself in one of her strongest forms... something no ordinary human (or Gear for that matter) would normally be able to do.

Of course he had assistance from Dr. Paradigm and Izuna behind him, but he was pulling his own weight now... he had become someone even Sol could rely on in a pinch (though Sol would probably never acknowledge it).

Fast forward to the events of Xrd Sign, Sin was a key component in understanding the mystery that was Ramlethal Valentine and her sister Elphelt.  Instead of interrogation and torture, Sin offered friendship and the best "human ideas" he could come up with.

Sin later revealed his Half-Gear past with Ramlethal, as a way of saying that they weren't so different after all.

Later, when Ky and Dizzy finally reunited, Sin quietly reaffirmed his resolve to protect his family and the Kingdom of Illyria.

A lot happened after that... his father got shot by a Conclave member, Sol somehow went missing during the skirmish with Justice, and even Elphelt nearly lost all she had tried to build in their friendship.

It was Sol's efforts, surprisingly, that brought Elphelt back... but there was no stopping what would happen unfortunately, and so Sin worked hard with Sol and Ramlethal to bring back Elphelt.

As time went on, Sin began to learn even more about the Valentines from Ramlethal, and even Jack-O', their true purpose, and who their mother was (as cruel as she was).

When Ramlethal fell in to a trap (and everyone assumed she was dead)... Sin almost gave in to despair, but he knew Sol and Ky wouldn't give up, and so he resolved himself to continue on as well.

When Sin finally confronted Ariels, all the pent up rage and frustration he'd had over the suffering of the Valentines (even the first one he'd met) was unleashed, because he understood the values of a Mother in a family... because of his own Mother.

Ariels was not someone who understood the value of a Mother, or the value of Life... only treating her "family" like "tools", and throwing them out.

As the battle continued, Sin was forced in to a pinch, and had to grab a massive chain along with his father Ky to stabilize their target in order to free Elphelt.

At first it seemed like they were on the losing end, since Sol couldn't fight Ariels by himself... but then Ramelthal appeared to back them up, much to Sin's surprise and relief!

Sol put an end to Ariels' plans, and the Valentine sisters were finally reunited, though there were a few close calls along the way (prevented, thanks to Axl Low's help).

Sin, by himself, is largely concerned with finding a "safe place" for his family to live, because they are Half-Gears, getting the rest of society to accept them would always be difficult.

Even grasping the concept that Justice is technically Sin's grandmother, is hard to wrap one's head around!

Dizzy and Ky seemed to be happy no matter where they go, which was a relief to Sin... but it's also possible that Humanity will accept Gears one day... though it's unclear when that day will come.

What happens next, seems to be up to the old man... Sol, and his rivalry with "That Man".

Sin isn't without concerns, but he does have HOPE for the future.

[bluem0use]

It's about time I introduced you to the cast of The Crackin'-Up Studios. Don't worry. You'll be seeing them again, especially in the mini-comics!

**In order from top to bottom, left to right**

Billie Bob Willie-Nillie Black Sheep: The overall face of The Crackin'-Up Studios itself. She is the ring leader to the whole circus. The pilot to all the flight attendance. The manager to a corporate office. You get the whole idea. She's one poppin' fire-cracker (A.K.A. has a short temper) that's all for the business, but doesn't mind getting silly from time to time. On screen, she is the definition of unpredictable and crazy, fun and silly. She's a gun happy country gal that started off small and came out big with her talents for making people laugh. She worked hard to get her way to the top. And all of it has obviously paid off. If someone was to use words to describe her, it would be fun, loving, friendly, brave, courageous, generous, the list could go on and on. This gun-loving  little lady, no matter where she goes, always somehow seems to change people's lives. And for the better.

Poochie Pooh Poodle: Billie's partner-in-crime. Her bestest friend since her younger years. Her ride or die buddy. Poochie is the main co-star to the series, and a serious eye-candy to men. While Billie is featured as the funny, wacky, unpredictable, quirky character on-screen of the trio, Poochie is often featured as the sex-appeal. The sex symbol. The hot mama. She also models as a little side job whenever necessary. She's the sweetest sweetie-pie you will ever meet in your life. However, proceed with caution. When provoked, she's one sassy gal and won't hesitate to give you a mouthful (and probably a gun wound) if you mess with her, or her friends.

Wolfie Blackfang Wolf: What's the three musketeers without a male in the picture? Wolfie may not have known these two women as long as they've known each other, but their his closest family he's ever had since he left the orphanage. He is also the main co-star to the series, accompanied by being the musical genius of the three. Since a young boy, Wolfie has practiced music as not only his hobby, but his life. His alluring ability was able to trap the young black sheep and poodle in a trance on a fateful night in a club where he worked to try and make a living, thus landing him a job and a ticket to materialization through the ladies. From there, he has always acted as the stud of the three, protecting them whenever they needed an extra hand and also charming women with his attractive voice along the way.

Candy Bat: This "monster", this "usually nocturnal creature of the night", this "mysterious shadow" is nothing but a sweet treat in the eyes of many who travel far and wide to Nightwalk Bay to get a taste of his sweet treats at the local candy shop. At least, that's what Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie will tell ya. Famous for his line of business, Candy Bat is a harmless, humble candy man..err..bat that seeks nothing but to fill the mouths of the fortunate with a sweet after-taste. His delicious pastries, frozen desserts, and fizzy drinks aren't the only thing that appeals to the eyes of many. He's also a support character at The Crackin'-Up Studios during the day and a friendly (but hissy, due to his uncontrollable excited hisses whenever he meets someone new and/or is excited) candy shop-keeper at night.

Scratches: Whoa, watch out for that web! There's a BIG spider up there! And his name is none other than Scratches, yet another support cast character for The Crackin'-Up Studios. When in the presence of my six-armed friend, be cautious. Scratches loves the ladies and will go through extreme lengths to entangle you in his web, if he deems you a worthy enough mate. Don't worry fellas, he doesn't swing that way. Though..spider's gotta eat, right? What? Spiders only eat insects? Not this playful, flirtatious one. Note that this spider is dead, and has been ressurrected after a deal made by Ozzan (scroll down to reference Ozzan's bio). Therefore, Scratches likes human flesh too. Dont worry too much though. He's too busy chasing both Poochie and Billie around the studios, trying to declare his love for them. Though...something about a huge demon spider just..turns those two ladies off.

Honey Hyena: As the name implies, this hyena is sweet as honey! Raised on a bee farm, this little lady never expected to end up being a supporting cast character to The Crackin'-Up Studios. That was, until a little Black Sheep mozied on over and decided to offer her the position and the materialization process just like everyone else. She figured the nice lady would need the money boost besides "Milkin' bees all day long" - Billie. Honey loves bees. In fact, on her days off from woking at the studios, that's all she does! Is work, work, work at her long-descended family bee farm, making honey and selling it for some dough (money) as a side job. She is also the motherly figure to all the cartoon ladies on set and often tries to share her knowledge with them in hopes she can help guide them on the right path. I mean, not everyone is perfect, right?

Bon Isabell Bunny: Daughter of a long deceased magician (who was, ironically a white bunny), she has seeked to find more support by becoming a supporting cast character to the TV series. However, though, she wasn't looking to be a supporting character when offered the job by Billie Bob. Bon has a bit of a...strong hatred for Billie Bob. Bon saw how much love and respect the black sheep got, even from her "enemies". So, what does this tempered (its just as bad as Billie's, trust me), quick-to-anger, grumpy gal do? Well, it's like they say, "Kill the sheep, take her wool!". That is...if she could catch her first. Forever caught in this game of cat-and-mouse on screen and off screen, Bon decided to settle into this position for now. Hopefully one day, her magic tricks and traps can pay off and actually earn her a spot in the lead position.

Bon Iseah Bunny: Twin brother to the other Bon Bunny, this bunny seems the complete opposite of his sister. This magic bunny doesn't mind being a supporting cast character, and instead enjoys making others smile with her magic tricks and qurkiness. After all, its what his deceased magician father would have wanted. He admires Billie and everything that she does not only for everyone else, but herself. He just hopes with time, his sister can see that. For now, this calm bunny will just have to play as yin to his sister's yang (A.K.A., trying his best to calm her in her most stressed and ferocious moments).

Molly Cow: Before her rise to fame as another member of The Crackin'-Up Studios crew, Molly Cow, the half-pig half-cow offspring, could not keep a job to save her life! She was lazy, less focused, often slacking or ducking off, and/or giving up before she even set foot in the door! The funny thing is, she wouldn't care, and just go back to living with her parents. Seeing as though Molly's confident and care-free attitude was a necessity to bring on some laughs, all Billie had to do was offer a hand to the voluptuous, intriguing young woman and for some odd reason, this cartoon has managed to keep the job ever since. Side note, if you ask her what her "other" job would be whenever she brings it up, it would be shopping. She is ALL about the fashion!

Malachi (formerly known as "Michael Jamesking"): Yes, Malachi is actually an angel. AND, he is also a featuring asset to the team whenever needed. With the help of one of Veronica's potions (scroll down to reference Veronica's bio), he has the ability to shrink down to size on command. He also is a good line of defense if life-threatening danger ever be-falls the company, for even if he is a judgement angel, he is considered very powerful against a mortal (unless demon weapons are used against him). He is pure, friendly, and kind, however, you must not associate yourself with the presence of evil upon first meetings. He IS a jugement angel after all and will be quick to judge you and shame you for your choice of sin and avoid you like the plague while also be-littleing you. Ironically, the only exception to this treatment is Ozzan (his best friend in all universes) and Bendy (in the head-canon canon universe). Also note, Malachi was never always Malachi. Malachi was once Michael, a regular, normal, working business man who unfortunately got hit by a car on his morning rush to work.

Ozzan: Oh boy. This one's a bad one. If you thought Scratches (scroll up to reference Scratche's bio) was bad, wait until you get a load of this one! This foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, obnoxious, flirtatious pervert is somehow a necessity to The Crackin'-Up Studios. His crude sense of humor and anctics tend to get a good laugh out of adults more than oblivious children. He will flirt with anything, sleep with anything, hell even risk catching some sort of SEXUAL DISEASE for anything that has legs. This man lives, breathes, and embraces everything that is bad at every cost, every time. Its possibly why he was so close to Lucifer (the Devil) back when he was in Hell. Though, take caution. If you piss him off (which isn't really hard to do), he WILL tear you to bits and peices with his bare fists. Also, beware of tentacles and trendils ladies. He has them everywhere and can use them not only in battle, but also for...other things. So beware and..make sure your doors are locked.

Veronica Bat: Born "Daddy's Little Monster", Veronica is the daughter of Candy Bat and Valentine Naxxremis (formerly Bat)(She will be referenced in the next ref). For most of her life, she has lived with her mother and embraced her witch-hood, which usually ends up with the little gloom and doom bookworm getting bullied for being a "half-breed". However, her luck gets turned around when she meets Billie Bob (like a lot of these people's do) who helps instill in her to be happy to be herself and to screw what everyone else says..and to also get back at them at all costs. She looks up to Billie and Poochie as her "Aunties", though, has trouble getting along with her father. She was raised to believe she had left her and her mother and never really loved them. Which, is obviously not true, but, she has a hard time believing that. Once welcomed to the cast, Veronica is a huge hit with the goth little teen girls who aspire to be like her: beautiful and mysterious. Let's just hope she gets he powers under control first, for she struggles with that a great deal on screen for comical effect and off screen.

Patricia Greene Pig: (A/N: She probably has had the MOST change out of all of them, so beware) Patricia is Delloris's (scroll down for Delloris's bio) bestest friend since childhood. Snobby, rude, sassy, class. All of these combined makes her perfect for scenes where she's the girl that thinks she's too good for the male trying to win her heart. Likes are, their only trying to "woo" it for her money. Oh, did I mention she's very wealthy? Her and Delloris aren't friends for nothing. You have to have some sort of status when it comes to getting in goods with the mayor's one and only daughter. Also note that Patricia is an EXTREME germo-phobe and will pelt you down with germ-x if you've so much as TOUCHED an un-sanitized door knob.

Hank Kat: Hank Kat has been an aspired musician since he was a little boy. He has really known the struggles of what it's like to be broke from both of his poor parents. So, as a way to raise some money, he went out on the streets and played his father's old rusty trumphet for some pocket change. Crowds were so awed at his talent, before long, Hank was hitting the clubs to try and win over some cash to take care of his parents once he became of age. Similar to Wolfie, Poochie had just so happened to stumble upon him. Though they didn't exactly see eye-to-eye due to species war, they were able to put their differences aside the night they had spent together, dancing the night away. As they danced, Poochie would listen to this party-goer's story and become sympathetic for the poor fellow. Thus, she figured his wallet could be fed a little more and thus offered for him to be a support character on the team. With his toe-tappin', feed stompin', hand wavin; jams that he can play on trombone, trumphet, pretty much just about any instrument he could blow into, he would become not only a major asset to the supporting cast, but also the music, both at his day job at the studios and his night job in the clubs.

Puncho: This "unstoppable brick wall" can take a punch and also pack it. After all, they don't call him "Puncho" for nothing! Though he's not much of fan favorite unless it comes to his famous boxing episodes, Puncho is a well-served supporting cast in the crew. He's often seen alongside his partner, Scraps Skunk (scroll down for Scrap's bio), no matter what the situation. He has a temper just like Billie, girl Bon, and Ozzan, however, instead of unleashing it by yelling at coworkers and throwing large objects (Billie), chasing someone down the hall with a chainsaw (Girl Bon), or spewing a bunch of curse words that's enough to make a sailor blush (Ozzan), he lets out his steam in the ring. He is the undefeated champion (if you don't count his and Billie's first brawl in one of her posters) within the boxing ring and anyone who dare wants to challenge him in taking his belt, well. Better be prepared for the pain. Bring a lot of ice.

Scraps Skunk: A timid, shy soul who is pure and good at working the ring as a referee. He plays fair though, he always will support his bestest friend, Puncho no matter what. His often scared, frightened, shaky attitude is welcomed on screen whenever needed. He was often bullied through his childhood and unlike those who have toughed up from it, he only seemed to soften. Hell, even Billie has chewed him out for his overly push-over nature. Though, she gives up. For nothing can change this poor man's soft heart and kind ways.

Wallis Moose: What else to say about this guy besides him obviously being a horrible detective? After his first appearance as one in one of Billie's episodes, Wallis fell in love with the idea of being one and even off screen, tries to solve "mysteries" wherever he is needed. However, he always slips up short and makes himself to be a fool. How did he even earn a spot on the team? Well, to put it simple, Wallis is a stone cold, hard drunk. He drinks and drinks and drinks, and when he's hiccuping and stumbling all over the place, Billie couldn't help but find it amusing the first time they met. After all, the first night they met, they both danced drunkinly through the streets of Nightwalk Bay, where they somehow met. As kooky as it sounds, it actually happened. Believe me.

Chico Georgina Chick: This once poor broken flapper was able to leave her broken past of having to prostitute herself on the streets and go some nights starving behind. Coincidentally, Chico was given another opportunity at a better life by Hank Kat (scroll up for Hank's bio), who happened to run into her at one of the clubs and show her a much better life than what she was living by offering her a position at the studios and materialization through the machine. Now a re-born, classy lady, this former flapper...heh...well, let's be honest. Girl loves to party and dance like there's none tomorrow, is ready to bring all the club's joy and bump to the table on screen. Hank is often seen by her side, playing away on his trumphet while she dances on top of a table. Nothing too promiscuous or provocitive. Want to keep the adult's attention but not as much. She's known as the party girl out of the group and also knows a thing or two about fashion. Also, keep her as FAR away from Molly (scroll up for Molly's bio) as possible..they fight a lot.

Delloris Acorn: Delloris is the beloved daughter of the mayor of Toon City, within the alternate world where cartoons "live". Her mother died giving childbirth and though she never knew her mother. She was always expected to act lady-like and proper, is why she carries herself that way. Though, the day Billie met Delloris and her father and was allowed to spend the day with her, Billie turned her upside down and all around. To the point Delloris came home, dress cut into a tank-top, short short overalls, knee-high socks, messy hair, and busted shoes. Billie's excuse was they were pig wrestling (no pun intended Patricia). Her father was awfully upset and almost demanded Billie to be arrested, however, Billie's sly deal to offer Delloris a spot at the studios was the only thing that saved her from some jail time. Now, while away from her rich and perfect life as the mayor's "little princess", she's allowed to get down and dirty. Especially on screen where down and dirty are necessary for some laughs.

Mad Mouse (also known as "Maddison K Mouse"): Why is this mouse so quiet and mysterious? Why does he never speak or even take off his goggles? Wait, is this mouse even a "he" at all? Well, yes and no. To put a long story short, back in these days and times of the early 1900s, women weren't taken seriously. Even toon women. Born a genius, the only way to get people to notice her freakishly large brain talent is to disguise herself as a man and as to go as "Mad Mouse" instead of "Maddison Mouse". However, her little secret couldn't be kept that long, for an incident in her labs caused her to lose part of her disguise and have to come clean to Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie. It was through them who helped her realize that, no matter who you are, your voice deserved to be heard no matter what. From that point on, this support cast member decided to cease wearing the disguse and be her actual self. Though, I wouldn't mess with this quiet little genius. She's a little...mad (crazy), as the legends and cartoons portray her as.

[missfay49]

Sanders Sides Theory 01/15/20

You want a long theory? HERE’s A LONG FREAKIN THEORY.  

To build off an earlier post of mine here, I believe we can reverse engineer the function of the next Side by analyzing the roles of the current known Sides in the context of their correlating sin.  I’ve included some flower meanings based on the shirt release but couldn’t identify them all from the photos available.  Please reach out to me if you have identified all the flowers.

Pride!Logan

Logic / Craves Stability / Reaction to adversity is to Double down

Logan is proud, but not about just anything.  He values intelligence, critical thinking, and the lofty goals of exploration: re: the astronomy class hype, and “what really is at the bottom of the ocean?” He prides himself in being right 100% of the time and utilizes information to do so.  

When he missuses the word “infinitesimal” it is devastating to him.  It is brought up repeatedly in subsequent episodes and culminates in him feeling like one mistake will prevent him from ever being taken seriously again. He hates being wrong, because he believes that if he’s wrong, C!Thomas will literally fail at life, becoming destitute and homeless.  The stakes are real.  

He needs to ensure success, which is why he first pushes C!Thomas to pursue more traditional careers.  His arc is about accepting that success in life can take on different forms.

Sloth!Virgil

Anxiety (Paranoia) / Reaction to adversity is to Give up

Virgil is often seen promoting activities that would be considered lazy, i.e. going back to bed in the middle of the day, staying home when they could go out, doing less work, trying fewer new things.  His makeup is a dramatized symbol for lack of sleep.  There are multiple instances showing him reluctant to spend more time even just in the presence of the other Sides; “Now I’m gonna go be cool, somewhere else.”  Ducking out is the pinnacle of sloth.

But sloth as a behavior is just a symptom of the actual condition: social anxiety and mild paranoia. Check out my short paranoia theory here.  Virgil resorts to inaction as a defense against feeling insecure about something. Wanted to go to that party, but you’re too nervous to talk to new people?  Well, actually, just stay in.  It’s safer and you need your rest.  

That’s why Virgil’s arc is not about finding the motivation to do things; that would only work if laziness was the true problem.  Instead, his arc is about learning to think through fears and overcome them, so C!Thomas can do what he actually wants, which is to be more social.  

Gluttony!Patton

Morality / Flower: Blue Forget-me-not / Craves Community / Reaction to Adversity is to Fake-it-til-you-make-it

Patton is about cravings. Food, pets, friends; he wants it all. He’s about enjoying everything life has to offer, gosh-darn the consequences.  He wants friends so badly he’s consistently willing to sacrifice his own well-being to put them first.  The concept of morality often focuses on giving instead of receiving.  It’s a way to prove to them that he’s a good friend, and therefore worth keeping around.  What seems like sacrifice is actually a careful prioritization of his favorite thing to indulge in: acceptance.  Being happy all the time is not just a show for the other Sides, it’s for C!Thomas’ friends as well.  People don’t want to be around someone who’s sad, right?  Gotta be happy, so they stick around.  

Forget-me-nots are about happy memories and we already know Patton is a sucker for nostalgia.  One of his favorite things are memories, so he goes to extreme lengths to make lots of good memories with his friends.  Patton’s arc will ultimately be Not about diminishing his craving for friendship but realizing that he can be his most authentic self without losing them.  He can loosen the rules that he internalized.  Real friendship does not require perfection.  

Greed!Deceit

Self-Preservation / Flower: Yellow Sunflower / Reaction to adversity is Sowing Discord

Deceit, like Logan, is also focused on C!Thomas’ success.  The difference is, he could not care less what that success looks like, only that C!Thomas gets it.  Where Logan is all about careful planning and preparedness, Deceit is about taking risks and seizing opportunities.  How can C!Thomas get the most out of life?  No, don’t worry about other people.  There is only C!Thomas.  

Deceit’s objective is to eliminate the consequences of C!Thomas’ mistakes and increase the rewards for his effort.  He will do whatever it takes, whether that’s coaching C!Thomas to lie to others, or to be more honest with himself.  His stance is that since our society is built on lies, we should be willing to use lies to navigate it.  Deceit believes that if C!Thomas is honest to himself about what he wants, he’ll pursue it even at the risk of losing people along the way.  Simply put, Deceit must learn that no one makes it alone.  The sunflower symbolizes false riches, and this explains why Deceit’s assumption is wrong.  We all depend on others to reach our full potential, and a world where C!Thomas has gained everything by discarding or disadvantaging others is one C!Thomas wouldn’t want to live in.  It’s more difficult, but it’s worth it in the end to work with other people instead of around them.  

Lust!Roman

Creativity / Flower: Red Rose / Reaction to adversity is Denial

It’s easy to see that Roman is all about finding that special someone.  Red roses symbolize love.  He’s dashing, brave, and often combats mythical creatures, not for fun (although it is fun), but to prove his manliness to a potential mate!  But this Side is actually one of the most complicated. He believes himself to be the most handsome Side, and he better be, because it is his duty to secure the end-all-be-all of C!Thomas’ life: romantic love.  Someone to spend your life with, grow old with.  The initial conflict between Roman and Anxiety is entirely because having Anxiety around would theoretically lower his chances of securing a relationship.  Once he saw that Anxiety could do what needed to be done in “Accepting Anxiety”, he was able to let go of that worry.

But remember, Roman is also about Self-Love.  The creativity that he pumps out isn’t art for art’s sake; it’s to bring himself joy and to fill that hole in his heart with some kind of excitement.  If he can’t throw all his passion at a person, he’ll throw it onto the stage.  That’s why each time his work is criticized, he’s confronted with the fear that it’s all just a distraction anyway.  Yes, he is objectively good at acting and enjoys it, but part of C!Thomas uses all these creative projects to feel something he isn’t getting anywhere else.

The Roman angst dates aaaall the way back to the Valentine’s Day Episode, wherein C!Thomas decided that platonic love was important to acknowledge, too.  Roman had already stated in the first episode that he would focus on loving himself.  But maybe on that particular Valentine’s day, C!Thomas stopped trying so hard to find romance.  Maybe he fell back on what he already had, the love of his friends, and thought to himself, this could be enough.  And each time an opportunity to feel true passion comes up again, C!Thomas rejects it. First when trying to rekindle things with the ex-boyfriend, then with the big call-back.  C!Thomas is putting his love life on hold to deal with other things right now, and it’s wearing on Roman.  

The worst part is that it’s entirely possible, maybe even likely, that Roman (and therefore C!Thomas) isn’t sure what will happen once he’s found someone.  RE: Episode #1 – his greatest fear is rejection.  

In “Am I Original?” C!Thomas states that if he only ever listened to Roman, he would be setting himself up for heartbreak.  That’s why Roman makes the final ruling in the court room.  That’s why he quietly accepts it every time they make a decision away from love (with impromptu exceptions – “PICK IT UP!”).  He both wants and fears love at the same time.  Roman’s arc isn’t really about what he needs to do differently, but about what C!Thomas needs to let him do for himself.  His stories aren’t about him getting his way and then finding out he took it too far. They’re about him not getting anything at all.  Once he gets the green light from C!Thomas, he will do what he’s always done; Throw caution to the wind in the pursuit of love.  

Envy!Remus

Creativity / Flower: Green Dahlia / Reaction to adversity is Acting out for Attention

All the “Dark” Sides were pushed away for one reason or another, but it seems to hit Remus particularly hard.  It’s not fair that his brother should be chosen over him.  He considers himself not even just as good as Roman, but in many ways better at being creative!  His range is limitless, and he is confident in his abilities, unlike his brother.  He should be the main Creativity, not that crybaby!  

Remus tries over and over again to make C!Thomas notice him.  He gives everything he’s got into each new idea, hoping that this one will be ‘the one’ to earn him C!Thomas’ recognition, but it never does.  Remus embodies envy.  It is his driving force; ALL he wants is consideration for his ideas.  

Since Remus feels envious, C!Thomas does too.  If Remus wants to reach new heights of fame, so must C!Thomas!  From Remus’ standpoint, Roman isn’t getting the job done, so he’ll just have to keep throwing idea-after-horrifying-idea at C!Thomas until he gets through to the man.  

Wrath!X?

Now for the hard part: figuring out what’s missing.  (You can check out my earlier Anger Theory here.)

Let’s summarize how the other Sides use their traits real quick:

Logan is proud of his intelligence that he uses to gain financial security.

Virgil is slothful as a result of his desire to feel safe.

Patton is gluttonous as the result of his goal to make C!Thomas feel happiness and enjoy life in the moment.

Deceit is greedy as a result of his goal to help C!Thomas navigate this world and come out on top.

Roman is lustful as a result of his goal to secure a loving, stable relationship for C!Thomas.

Remus is envious as a result of his goal to get C!Thomas to make a lasting mark on the world like so many have before.

For most of the Sides, the sin is directly related to the Sides’ function.  It’s their method of achieving their goals.  But there appears to be an outlier.  Logan seems different.  He doesn’t need to be proud in order to be intelligent, at least on the surface.  But, maybe that’s not true.  Maybe if he didn’t feel proud when he learned new things, he would have no motivation to seek out information in the first place.  Therefore, pride is essential to Logan’s function.  

All the Sides rely on their sin to accomplish their goals.  They first have a goal, a job that they are supposed to complete for C!Thomas.  Then, the sin is their method of executing that job.  The function of the Side comes before the sin.  

So, if wrath is the means, what is the goal?  What does C!Thomas need to be angry about in order to accomplish it?

What are all the instances where we see C!Thomas (not the individual Sides) get mad, even a little?

TOAwLS - C!Thomas gets frustrated with Anxiety popping up even when nothing’s wrong.

TMvTH - C!Thomas gets mad at Logan and Patton for pelting him with conflicting goals.

GU - C!Thomas acts mad at Patton for dreaming too much, but really, he’s lashing out at Patton because the others are pushing him too far in the other direction.  

MOP2 - C!Thomas rudely disregards Logan for disrupting nostalgia-time.

SVS - C!Thomas gets mad at himself for considering lying to his friends.

If we’re being honest, this is a short list, and some of these don’t even really qualify as anger.  He’s more just kind of experiencing frustration as he works through things.  The most angry he gets is when it affects real people in his life; Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding.  He feels terrible about it, but he’s angry for two reasons here.  First, that the scheduling conflict even exists, because it’s denying him an important opportunity.  Second, because the situation caused him to confront a truth about himself that he’s never been comfortable with.

But we have one more example to work with; the Aside.  In ATHD? - C!Thomas got mad at Rico for past feelings that weren’t even specifically against C!Thomas.  We don’t see it, but we see the effects.  C!Thomas is so angry with himself for lashing out, and it tells us that he’s had a lot of anger before that he never released.  Anger about being in the closet when he was younger.  There are plenty of hints in the episode on this theme:

Roman calls C!Thomas a snowflake.

This shot from the movie: “You must learn to control it.  Fear will be your enemy.”

And most importantly, the lines “Don’t let them in, don’t let them see”.  Patton did purposely sing those lines of the Frozen song “Let it go”, which has often been correlated to coming out of the closet, because that was directly tied to the theme of the premier Aside.  

C!Thomas had so conditioned himself to defend his sexuality that even the mention of past prejudice was enough to set him off, causing him to overreact in the situation with Rico. He was transported back to a time when he was still closeted, afraid to come out because of people like Rico’s younger self.  Now that he’s older, he feels anger toward the people he knew back then, and he took that anger out on Rico.  

Let’s take a step back for a second.  What is C!Thomas’ ultimate goal for himself?  Balance. And what is C!Thomas’ ultimate goal for others?  Love and understanding.

C!Thomas got as angry as he did because this isn’t just about him anymore.  The prejudice that he remembered and was reacting to is something that people continue to face all the time.  As much as he struggled, he’s empathetic enough to know that others must be struggling, too, and his anger at Rico was actually anger at prejudice.  

When the last Side is revealed, it will signal that the arc is closing and the series will eventually be coming to an end.  Will the series have made its mark?  Way back in IIADS!!, Anxiety unintentionally suggested, “using your platform to positively affect your audience the same way Disney did with you”  It’s not just about C!Thomas anymore.  It’s about you.  Us.  

The biggest effect C!Thomas could have on his audience is self-actualization; becoming the most he can be and doing the most good for others that he possibly can.  Prejudice is an issue that has personally affected him and clearly affects his audience.  Fighting prejudice is a cause worth getting angry about, WORTH showing a little wrath.

Logan and Virgil have affected how C!Thomas takes in information.  Deceit and Patton affect how he moves through that world.  Roman and Remus affect how he wants his work to be seen on a personal level.  But Wrath will be how C!Thomas affects the world at large.  Wrath will lead the charge for affecting real change.  Wrath will close out the series and launch a generation of inspired viewers to go out into their own worlds and fight for their freedoms.  Wrath will be our hero.

~

Thanks so much for reading! This has gone on long enough, so I’m adding some bonus theories in the links below tomorrow with other things I noticed during the research for this post.  Hope you enjoyed it!

Bonus Theory now here!

Bonus BONUS Theory now here!

[uphissleevies]

Natsu x Lucy Fanfiction Gems

A continued list of my favorite stories that keep piling up.

Notes:

-More current updated ones are at the top of the list

-Only one story per author

-Sexual content in some stories

-Stories from FF.net are first, followed by the stories from A03

Happy Reading!

-FF.net stories-

Bound in Blood (M) by xambedo

When tragedy unseals a demon beneath the soil of Fairy Hills, Lucy Heartfilia is offered a choice: remain and be buried alive, or bargain to save her classmates. Seven years later, Natsu is here to collect, but he's about to get more than he bargained for. / NaLu / Romance - Supernatural - Humour

Capturing Her Damaged Heart (M) by mushi0131

A deadly disease plagues the world. People are dying, the dead are rising. The infection spreads too fast to stop. Everyone tries their best to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, but things get messy for Natsu when he finds a blonde woman on one of his missions. Natsu takes it upon himself to help her, protect her, and accidentally fall in love with her? Zombie Apocalypse AU.

Til Death Do Us Part (M) by superfreakerz

Immortal/Reincarnation AU. There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, though it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a mischievous boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Dauntless (M) by HungryPeanut

The Royal Military College was founded a few centuries ago and the traditional laws that were instaured at the time still remained. One of those laws stipulating clearly that only male students were allowed to apply for the formation. But here Lucy was, standing among the other recruits in the ranks, dressed as a man.

Do it for him, Do it for her (T) by schmad20

Lucy goes on with her mission, "without" any one else. She wants to help her client and while doing that she'll prove to others what she's capable of! She's doing it for herself...and for him... While she's off on her mission, Natsu is waiting restlessly at home. Waiting for her to come home. He knows how much this means to her... So he's doing it for her...

Walk through the fire (T) by elssiie

Strategist and priestess Lucy Heartfilia gets caught up in the turmoil of war. Torn between duty and love she must decide whether to follow her heart or mind because the destiny of two nations rests on her shoulders.

Implexium Vitae (M) by notjustanyfangrl

It is said that some people have old souls, reborn every couple centuries to find their loved ones again and continue on their never ending journey. But what happens to these intersecting lives when one is immortal and the other is ripped from them? Vampire AU.

Falling into Home (T) by selenityshiroi

Post-canon. Lucy finds it difficult to let certain horrors from the war go but, fortunately, her team mates are having the same struggle and they can work past it together.

Her Master (M) by Letting go of Fate

Neither of them remembered how it all started. How their innocent friendship twisted into something like this. She loved it. He craved it. He was her Master and she, his pet.

Stars that Bite (T) by MizzyPlatinum

AU in which Lucy feeds off of blood and refuses to drink Natsu's, but what happens when Natsu finds out that he's the only one she refuses to feed from? NaLu. OneShot. Fluff. Blood trigger.

Dark Side of You (M) by Binky1987

Post Manga/Anime, therefore sort of AU. The progress of Lucy and Natsu's relationship, five years after the war. When finally their relationship is becoming defined, the world turns ugly and they have to choose a side. With Lucy's life on the line the choice is clear, the world be damned because you can't take his things and live to tell about it.

One Week of Danger (T) by Cervella

"Okay, Miss Mystic." Lucy stood up and held the magazine which she would flush down the drain later above her head. Plue imitated her totally heroic pose and she was dead serious when she yelled,"In the next week I will prove that your horoscope is completely wrong!"

Desire In Strawberries (M) by  shelbyshoe

Natsu and Lucy are swept away by a festival held by their wealthy client, Lady Nakahara. There is more than mystery and the scent of strawberries in the air as they find themselves intimately closer to one another. What they thought was a friendly feast turns into something more as the puzzling night goes on.

Letter’s To Mom (T) by  ElementalMiko12

Going back to the place they first met after Lucy reveals an unkept promise she made to her mother; Natsu takes her to keep that promise... In the process Lucy's deceased mother decides to keep a promise of her own she made long ago. (Complete)

The Simplest Gift (A Valentine's Day Special) (T) by ladyoflitany A Valentine's Day one shot, involving Natsu, Lucy unspoken feelings and Valentine's gifts. Throw in a meddling Mira, Natsu misunderstanding the idea of Valentine's and Lucy's missing fan mail and problems and Hilarity ensue...

Brightside (K+) by stopnatsu Natsu loves Lucy. Lucy is on a date. Natsu gets roaring drunk and drama ensues. Oneshot. Angst/fluffy. (May or may not be heavily inspired by Mr. Brightside by The Killers).

The Lacrima Wish (T) by  LucyLacrima

In the midst of a battle with Natsu, Lucy stumbles upon a cursed tree and something is released. She is given the opportunity to make one wish, with no limitations, and is given a Lacrima. The Lacrima allows her to see the repercussions of each potential wish. She tests different futures while watching her guild's future unfold.

Thirty Days of Misadventures (T) by MagiLiv Imagine waking one morning in one world, sleeping, then waking in another. Different lives, different scenarios- together, Natsu and Lucy venture through the trials of laughter, anger, sadness and love.

A Big Problem (T) by  Jayalek

How is Lucy supposed to live her life normally when an overgrown lizard won't leave her alone? Of all the things to be obsessed with her, it just had to be a dragon who won't give her some peace and quiet. NALU! Dragonized!Natsu

Just Kiss! (T) by WhiteRose123

Even when Lucy is feeling at her worst, Natsu is always there to try to cheer her up. NaLu. Oneshot.

Strawberry Heaven (K+) by PrinceCharmingsPrincess

Oneshot: A NaLu lost moment... Ranges after the Games.

It started with a kiss (M) by Eugenee

Natsu comes home from a mission to find the guild in full swing and in the middle is his worst nightmare... a drunk Lucy.

Priorities (K+) by PEANUT v1.2

"Moving forward is what Fairy Tail mages do, isn't it?" Lucy says to Natsu. Yesterday he would have agreed immediately, but that was before catastrophe struck. How can he move forward after his mistake? Nalu friendship/romance oneshot.

Switched (T) by SyberSweetHeart

Once again the lives of Fairy Tail mages are interrupted- but the problem is Lucy and Natsu have switched bodies! Oh boy, this is bound to cause problems…

Exceedingly Adorable (K+) by Sweet Little Demon

A magical mishap happens in the middle of a battle, leaving Lucy fluffier and more adorable than ever. Humor, Fluff, adorableness, cuddliness, master planning and envy guaranteed.

Are You My Daddy? (T) by BlackLynx17 It was just a normal day at Fairy Tail... that is until a little girl is carried in claiming to be Lucy's daughter. The only thing she remembers about her Father is that he's strong and has a fairy on his body, that narrows it down to every male in Fairy Tail... hold on she said strong, maybe about half the males then. What's Fairy Tail to do now?

-A03 stories-

Flame’s Desire (M) by Rougescribe

As the last of her tribe, Lucy barely escapes the grasp of slavers and falls into the hands of a man as wild as the flames that destroyed her clan. She's been given a second chance with her life, but why does her savior awaken a fire in her blood she's never known before?

Of Dragons and Gods (T) by Gemini888

Lucy Heartfilia: Fairy Tail's resident Celestial Spirit Mage who is currently in love with the Guild's own Fire Dragon Slayer.

Natsu Dragneel: One of Fairy Tail's aces; a powerhouse Mage that is more than conflicted and confused about his feelings for Lucy.

Suberashi: A ancient, powerful, and fabled Guild straight from legends. Only, now, it's no longer fabled, nor does 'just a children's fairy tale' quite fit the reality of their sudden presence.

With Natsu unintentionally hurting Lucy emotionally and with Suberashi's sudden interest in her, will she leave Fairy Tail and accept their offer to give her the powers of a 'God.'

A Fever in the Night (G) by starmini

Coming back from a mission, Lucy collapses in the the middle of a forest with a dangerously high fever. Natsu sends Happy to bring back help, as he desperately tries to keep her alive.

Heaven Sent: A Fairy Tail Fairy Tale (G) by joliemariella

Natsu Dragneel is the infamous 'Dragon Prince' who rules Fiore with the assistance of his carefully chosen council. His life is changed forever, though, when his dear friend Happy, is struck by an incurable disease. Desperate, he turns to the ancient fairy tales that tell of the Celestial Maidens, whose robes hold the power to do anything a determined man might set his mind to...

Starcrossed (G) by wisdomofme

Bonus Prompt 1 of FT Angst Week: Ever After/ Perfect Disaster Once upon a time there lived a star that had seen it all, and boy who could see the stars… Who would’ve thought that their paths would cross?

what’s the big deal? (Explicit) by julamei

Natsu's sexual awakening is... clumsy and awkward, obviously. The poor boy has purposefully remained ignorant of these more mundane, human miracles. that is, until something happens he can't ignore and things between him and Lucy being to grow. Here is my headcannon on their journey around the bases (hopefully this reflects more our own experiences than just our need for fulfillment for these characters).

Hunter (M) by Freyjabee  (No longer available?)

Natsu and Lucy follow some dangerous hunters into a city housing sin. While one is desperate to leave, the other can't help but stay.

A Lesson for Natsu (M) by aeotae

Despite the injustice of it all, the men of Fairy Tail endeavor to prepare Natsu for his new manly duty as Lucy's boyfriend.

I have a lot more so let me know if anyone wants more recommendations.

[godofstoriessuggestion]

A Fan-%#&#$-tastically Good Story: A Reading Guide to Marvel Comics Loki

In other words: every Loki appearance in my collection of Marvel comics, in chronological order. (It's not everything in the past ten years, but it's really close, and I've tried to make a note where there's stuff I haven't read yet -- I'll get to it all eventually! Minimal spoilers, and I've tried to list the trade paperbacks where I can rather than single issues. Updated 6/27/2019.)

Old Loki

Thor by J. Michael Straczynski (aka the Lady Loki ones)

Thor, now king of Asgard and wielding the Odinforce, is returned from the void after Ragnarok. He decides to bring back the rest of the Asgardians and establish a new Asgard floating above Broxton, Oklahoma, but Loki plans to bring it -- and Thor -- crashing down. (There’s a lot in these, but particularly there’s a good amount of time devoted to Loki’s origin and how he came to be adopted by Odin.)

Thor by Kieron Gillen

Contains the leadup to and fallout from Siege, including Siege: Loki, a one-shot prequel that shows the deals Loki was cutting behind the scenes from his perspective.

Siege (aka the one where old Loki dies)

With the help of Norman Osborn’s Dark Avengers, Loki brings down new Asgard -- but the heroes bring chaos that not even Loki is prepared for.

Kid Loki

Thor: The World Eaters by Matt Fraction

In the wake of Siege, Thor misses his brother -- enough to bring him back from the dead, despite his many crimes.

Loki: Journey Into Mystery by Kieron Gillen (aka the Kid Loki ones)

The old Loki is dead and in his place is a new Loki, a child with no memories of his predecessor’s evil. But Asgard doesn’t trust him, and old Loki left behind plenty of schemes.

A+X 005

Loki manipulates Mr. Sinister into retrieving the sample of his DNA that Doom’s been using to try to clone him.

Young Avengers (2013) (aka Young freaking Avengers)

Loki schemes to manipulate a bunch of teenage superheroes into helping him regain his full power. Chaos (predictably) ensues.

Loki: Agent of Asgard

Marvel Now! Point One 001 (one-shot)

Loki hunts down a magic sword on the orders of the All-Mother of Asgard. A prequel to Loki: Agent of Asgard.

Loki: Agent of Asgard (aka THE Loki Comic)

Loki makes a deal with the All-Mother of Asgard: for every mission he takes on for them, they will strike one of old Loki’s crimes from the books. But he’s not the only one trying to rewrite his story.

Ms. Marvel 012 (one-shot)

(takes place during the first volume of AoA) Loki makes some mischief in the Valentine’s Day issue of Ms. Marvel.

(Original Sin) Thor and Loki: The Tenth Realm

(takes place between volumes 1 and 2 of AoA) Loki takes a break from dealing with the All-Mother’s missions by accompanying Thor on a mission to the sealed-off tenth realm to find their long-lost sister.

Angela: Asgard’s Assassin

(takes place after Original Sin but before AXIS) Loki has a brief part trying to help Thor hunt down their sisters when Angela steals Odin and Freyja’s new baby daughter, Laussa.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl 008

(takes place before the end of AoA but after AXIS -- the timeline is a little wonky here) Loki helps Squirrel Girl trap Ratatoskr -- never mind that he’s kind of the one that let her out to begin with!

Avengers & X-Men: AXIS

The inversion event is a big part of Agent of Asgard, but if you get the AoA trade paperbacks, it’ll be pretty well-covered. I haven’t yet read all of these.

Loki: God of Stories

The Mighty Thor (2015) (aka the Lady Thor ones)

Loki’s been out of the game for a while, but now he’s back doing the bad guy thing -- or is he?

Vote Loki

(takes place during -- and is referenced in -- the second volume of TMT) Loki runs for president.

All New Guardians of the Galaxy 012

Loki has a brief (but pretty!) cameo in which he impersonates Cable to prevent Drax from meeting the real one, and spies on the other Guardians as they meet other heroes, trying to track down the Infinity Stones. Kind of starts the ball rolling for Infinity Wars.

Marvel Legacy

(takes place during TMT) Loki gathers a group of frost giant runts -- the Black Ice Berserkers -- and sends them after a mysterious crate heavily guarded in a SHIELD warehouse, while Loki himself takes a trip to South Africa and makes a new friend. A prequel to Avengers (2018) and Infinity Wars (2018).

Loki: Sorcerer Supreme

Doctor Strange by Donny Cates (Volume 1: God of Magic) (Doctor Strange 381-385 aka Loki: Sorcerer Supreme)

In the aftermath of the Empirikul’s attack on magic, Loki takes on the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme.

The Amazing Spider-Man 795

The new Sorcerer Supreme asks for a little help from a certain friendly neighborhood superhero.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (Volume 8: My Best Friend’s Squirrel)

When Tippy-Toe and Nancy Whitehead are abducted by squirrels from outer space, Squirrel Girl gets some help tracking them down from the Sorcerer Supreme. Space road trip? Space road trip.

Loki: ...Double-Agent of Asgard?

Thor by Jason Aaron (2018) (aka the one where they go to Hel)

In the aftermath of the Mangog’s attack on Asgard, Thor is trying to put a stop to Malekith’s War of the Realms and find himself worthy once more -- and Loki  is trying to help... probably. In the far future, things have taken a dark turn for the brothers, and not just because the universe seems to be dying!

Marvel Free Comic Book Day 2018

Odin entreats T’Challa to stop Loki’s plans to call down the Final Host. A prequel to Avengers (2018).

Avengers (2018) by Jason Aaron (Volume 1: The Final Host) (aka the one where he gets the band Avengers back together)

Loki calls down the Final Host, revealing the reason why Earth is such a hotspot for superpowers in the cosmos.

Infinity Countdown Prime

When Logan comes into possession of an Infinity Stone, Loki offers to take it off his hands. Another prequel to Infinity Wars (2018)

Infinity Wars Prime

Loki scours an ancient library for an answer to the question: why can’t he ever seem to win? Someone is pulling the strings of his story, and he’s determined to find out who. Still another prequel to Infinity Wars (2018).

Infinity Wars (2018) (aka the ones where he has a ponytail, finally.)

Aliens fighting over shiny rocks interrupt Loki’s existential crisis, so he does what he always does: puts together a team of superheroes.

Infinity Wars: Infinity

An epilogue to Infinity Wars. Demoralized after his jaunt into the Prime Universe, Loki is deciding what to do next when a fiery old acquaintance from the end of time drags him straight back into things. A prequel to Wolverine: Infinity Watch.

Asgardians of the Galaxy (aka holy shit what is HE doing here?!)

While Gamora’s playing Gotta Catch ‘Em All with the Infinity Stones, Nebula is determined to show that she’s still a contender for the title of “deadliest woman in the universe.” Angela and a motley crew of Asgardians (and adjacent) are out to stop her, but you’ll never guess who’s pulling their strings. (Well... something tells me you might have an inkling.)

Wolverine: Infinity Watch (aka one last hurrah before the shit hits the fan)

Old Logan finally reveals the reason Loki’s plans involving the Infinity Stones went awry and enlists his help to prevent a catastrophe.

The Unbeatable Squirrel-Girl #43-46

When Squirrel-Girl is unexpectedly teleported to New York during Malekith’s invasion, Loki sends her on a mission to destroy a secret Frost Giant base in Canada.

War of the Realms (aka what it’s all been leading up to)

Malekith is finally poised to take over Midgard with the help of his allies. Loki’s failure to stop the War of the Realms culminates in a final, tragic battle with his father -- Laufey, the King of Jotunheim.

War of the Realms: War Scrolls #2

Billy Kaplan has a brunch date with his old Young Avengers compatriot, Kate Bishop. She wants to talk about the good old days -- and what they’re going to do about Loki.

War of the Realms: Omega

What’s next for Loki? An epilogue to War of the Realms and a Prequel to Loki (2019).

Loki: King of Jotunheim

Loki (2019)

After Laufey’s fall in War of the Realms, there’s a power void in Jotunheim that Loki is all too happy to fill. Sorry, did I say happy...?

(to be continued)

Extra-Canon Comics

These aren’t part of the prime Marvel comics universe, but I think they’re noteworthy.

Thor and Loki: Blood Brothers (aka Loki (2004))

Loki has waged war on Asgard and won, and now he sits on Asgard’s throne. Odin and Thor are imprisoned, and all he has to do now is decide what to do with them. So why does he hesitate? An exploration of Loki’s character that definitely informs the movies and the comics, even if this comic itself isn’t canon. (Be warned if you’re looking for a lovely Tom-Hiddleston-esque Loki... this Loki is very, very much not that. This was yours truly’s very first Marvel comic~)

What If? Thor (2018) (aka what if Thor was raised by frost giants?)

The origins of Thor and Loki, in an alternate universe where Laufey defeats Odin and brings his son home to Jotunheim. At least as much -- if not more -- about Loki than Thor, honestly.

[happy-haunts]

The Redhead

WARNING THIS POST IS LONG.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

“Where These Legs Have Been”

I wouldn’t say I had the worst life growing up in the American Colonies but I also wouldn’t say I had the best life either. You see my mother and father still believed there was wealth in Britain, so they urged me to marry a wealthy merchant when I was of age, even though I had a younger sister (Scarlet) who was more than willing to marry a wealthy man. And you can imagine the shock they had when they found me tasting the lips of one of the girl’s whom parents often socialized with mother and father.

I didn’t hate the company of a man but I didn’t hate the company of a woman either, I understood that my parents saw this as some kind of sin - but how much could they count my actions as a sin when they were planning to have me wed to some wealthy British man? And to me that should count as a sin, forcing someone to do something they don’t want to … If I had it my way I would be the ultimate sinner, I would show my legs to anyone who wanted a peek, I would explore other countries, I would flaunt all of my fine silks, I would have an adventure.

As one could probably guess my eighteenth birthday arrived sooner rather than later and without hesitation my parents, sister, and I sailed to Britain, the smell of the salt water air was intoxicating on our voyage and if I had to choose a place to die well I would hope it would be on a boat in the water.

Once we docked in a boring port of Britain my parents had decided upon going to find somewhere to stay the night - my sister and I on the other hand went about trying to find something to do in this town. Which was when we found the Drunkin’ Boar - most of the men entering the bar were either the usual sloppy drunks or whole crews of sailors.

Scarlet was interested to have a go at some of the sailors while they were in a drunken stupor, she had such a tomboy nature about her - wanting to wrestle the boys at home all the time and urging father to teach her how to shoot a gun. And you would think that mother and father would scold her for being so bold, instead she was commended for her feminism - why shouldn’t a girl be able to out-wrestle a boy? A woman should be required to shoot a gun just like a man! Heaven forbid if I want to make-out all day and wear my dresses a little shorter.

But I’m getting carried away, we had decided to head into the bar and see if it was worth our time. Scarlet noticed a few men arm wrestling ,and decided to go see if she could get them all worked up over losing to a girl. I on the other hand wanted to see if I could work up a crowd in another way - so I walked over to the bar and held out my hand to the man on the stool beside it, he gawked at me and took my hand to help me up onto the end of the bar where I took my seat. Once I was seated at a higher level then more of the patrons were starting to spot me, the place was getting silent now as if these slobs had never seen a woman before in their lives! So I sat up straight and proud and said “You boys keep your mouths hanging open like that they’re sure to collect dust.” a couple guys chuckled while another handful shut their mouths and quickly wiped away any kind of drool.

“Hey Red, what brings you to this dump - a fine lady like yourself?” The man beside me asked.

“Well my sister and I just got into town and while my parents look for a place to stay for the night we decided to see what this place had to offer, while we were walking we got so thirsty and our legs were so sore …” I lifted my red cotton dress to expose my fine smooth legs, rubbing my muscles and giving a depressed sigh. “I don’t suppose any of you fine gentleman could help?”

It was a riot in seconds, as soon as they all started trying to throw their money at the bartender- one man stepped on another man who punched him and caused him to run into another man … Basically it was a whole mess. And while that mess was going on I decided to slip behind the bar and grab two bottles of rum and walk right outside where my sister was already standing, oddly enough? She introduced me to a gentleman whom she had won her arm wrestle against- the Captain of one of the British ships which were currently taking down any Spanish ship they came across due to the disagreements with … part of Spain at the moment.

“I see he bartender has taken a liking to you.” He commented and gestured his head towards my bottles.

“Ah- Yes! I have that effect on people sometimes.”

The Captain had looked back to the bar with a confused look on his face, then back to me. “Is everything alright in there? It sounds like a brawl.” ”Oh well, you know how men can be with the Devil’s poison in their system!” I turned away from the two of them and began to start for the main street, but my sister kept the conversation alive even when I was trying to let it die!

“You know Captain I’m sure my parents would love to meet you.”

“I’m not so sure I could impose on your family if you have all just gotten into port like this.”

“Oh no they wouldn’t mind at all, right Red?”

I shrugged in response.

“...Eh… Right.” Scarlet sighed and grabbed onto the Captain’s arm. “Lets call it my prize for winning at arm wrestling.”

“Well when you say it like that how can I say no?” He chuckled and that was that, we were taking some strange man home to our parents, like finding a purebred stray and asking mother and father if we could keep it.

My parents of course loved him, he was British blood and he was wealthy from plundering all those Spanish vessels. And if no one has guessed by now - yes he did ask me for my hand in marriage as arranged by my mother and father, but I made a deal with my fiancee that I knew would enrage my parents once they found out. I asked my fiancee to take me aboard his ship because I must first know him as a Captain before I can know him as a husband, and what do you know.. He agreed, that is as long as I would bring my sister along for … “safety reasons”.

After that most of the time we spent on the ship together was basically me being his trophy, he told me about how much he despised working under the crown since he had to always look a certain way or act a certain way because as the Captain of this ship which is sailing Britain’s flag then he is representing the people of Britain and her King. It sounded boring, after awhile looting the Spanish ships got boring as well … Because it was all about “the king” this and “the king” that.

Thankfully the dispute with Spain had ended and we could go back to port where my parents were waiting for us, but my fiancee had a better idea. He proposed that we forget the King, forget the navy, forget all of their rules and plunder other ships instead - we would wave a black flag and take what we wanted without anyone telling us how we could act or what ships we could touch.

I loved it.

They were fighting off British ships one day and the next they were in the Caribbean, we would take their food and their drink, take their gold and their pearls, and I would get to be more than just a trophy! I lounged in the crows nest with my skirts up to my knees, I strutted across the deck with my heels clicking on the floorboards, and my sister learned how to sword fight.

Yes, scarlet was still on board when the Captain decided to leave Britain but it wasn’t as if my sister was a total bore- she would join the crew and the Captain in fighting and plundering, and I never needed to worry about my sweet little fiancee because she was already talking his ear off and keeping him occupied.

Years went by and our days of piracy would start to grow repetitive, we had begun to ransack ports and towns to try and show some variety but in the end a pirate’s life was starting to not be for me. So maybe I was starting to want to settle down? Maybe to go back to something more permanent, but every time I considered this I laughed at myself - settle down? Me? Of course not!

But the Captain was considering something like this as well, he was getting old and fighting through ports was starting to tax him, but before he wanted to retire he wanted one last great theft. The theft of his crew.

He had confided in me about this and told me he would split the treasure with me so we could go off to an island and live forever surrounded by our gold. And while it wasn’t my ideal way to sped the rest of my life it surely was better than baring his children and cleaning his suits.

The plan was to raid a port and distract the crew with something while we loaded all their loot onto the ship and sailed away into the dead of night, I was prepared with a distraction already because I knew exactly what at least %90 of these men wanted and that was a woman.

So we had an auction, I talked to the women of the town and had them play along with me as the auction took place - none of them would be going home with the crew since I had their finest iron pans, rolling pins, and brooms tucked away under their dresses so they could cause a commotion after the auction and after the Captain loaded the ship so I could sneak onto the ship as well. You can be sure that I was flattered how the crew shouted “We wants the redhead!” as I exposed my superstructure so to speak.

Once the women began to fight back I started running back to the ship in my fine silk red dress, only to stop as I saw Scarlet standing by the row boat to the ship with the Captain.

“Are you coming with us?” I asked, but Scarlet didn’t say anything in response, she was clenching and un-clenching her hands like she was on edge. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Your sister and I are engaged.” The Captain spoke with his voice low, almost as if he was disappointed in himself.

“Alright… That’s fantastic but we can celebrate after we get along with the loot.”

“No, Red …” The Captain sighed, “We’re not getting along with the loot, your sister has confessed she has loved me since we met in the bar, and since we started fighting side by side she wishes to do this until she dies by the blade.”

“Fantastic then let me at least be off with my half of the loot.”

“No. Red. You know of the betrayal against the crew …”

“Yes but it’s not like I’ll tell, I’ll be on an island!” ”We can’t take that chance, harlot.” Scarlet spoke now, “You think you can just hypnotize man after man with your body and your words but how does it feel, how does it feel to have your prize taken from you?” I was almost sorry I didn’t have more of a reaction for her to feel proud that she might have broken me.

“Prize? He is hardly my prize, none of those drooling animals in this crew is my prize, none of the idiots we had stolen from were my prize, I was told if I had a prize it was a sin … So I apologize sister but I’ve never had the chance.”

“You SLUT!” she shrieked, she became even more enraged at my indifferent shrug and beat me unconscious.

The next thing I knew my head was covered by a sack and I heard whispers while we rocked in a boat.

“Why do we have to dump her here?” it was the Captain’s voice.

“Because she is still my sister and it is only right that we dump her at our hometown.”

“This has been an inconvenience to the whole crew to do this.”

“They’ll get over it, I can’t believe how many of them actually got choked up over hearing about her death! She didn’t even care about them.” the rowing seemed to stop then and I felt hands on my back as well as behind my knees, then a grunt and I was engulfed in cold water only to be plunged downwards by something heavy right afterwards.

My hands were bound together behind my back as well as my ankles tied together to whatever was keeping me below, I struggled to try and grab the rope at my ankles but with the bag tied around my head I was fighting a loosing battle.

And then the cold water filled my lungs, and then there was nothing.

Bad Love

I was surprised to open my eyes again and to be on the grassy bank of a river, it was then I put together the river was where my sister and her fiancee dumped my body to die. But if I was dumped to die then how am I alive right now? I looked at my hands and screamed, they were glowing with a red light and I could see the grass through them, I could feel my body- I felt solid … I took in my surroundings, it seemed like I was in a graveyard…? A graveyard that surrounded a rather dark intimidating mansion.

“Well… Might as well ask for help.” I made my way to the front doors and walked through, inside was just as macabre. Everything was covered in cobwebs, bats were the decorations of choice for most of their furniture and candelabras, and a dark feeling seemed to settle upon me.

I heard talking from behind two grand doors, walking through them I saw a tiny little ghost (I presumed) and she was being put down by several other “dancing” ghosts apparently. It was all about how she was a handicapped ghost with no legs, and I am not the nicest person but I am not so cruel to discriminate someone who has no legs … And she was kind of cute.

So I decided to take the dancing ghosts down a notch and leave with this little cutie - whom I found out was named Emily.

We started a tour which turned into a mission to deliver a key chain to some murderess in the attic from the Ghost Hostess of this mansion, I was mainly on board with going to the attic because Emily was so small and she seemed terrified of this hatchet woman.

Once we got to the attic was when I knew I was staying in this mansion for the rest of my undying days.

Her ghostly aura was the color of a deathly blue hue, her yellow eyes sparked with murder, and her smile was so sinister that I knew she was up to no good. The way that Constance Hatchaway spoke about her husbands that she killed sounded like everyday of my living life- her parents telling her who she could and couldn’t court and they were only allowed to be a man. This was also when I realized how many years had gone by and metal inventions were ruling this world and if I wanted to I could have as many women as I wanted.

I could have Constance if she would have me.

Thus began my attempts at courting her.

Courting Constance was maddening! She was intelligent and knew that I was hopelessly in love with her ever since we met in the attic. I brought her books from the library - since the disembodied voice told me that they have the worlds most famous ghost writers in their collection, but she seemed to giggle at the books as if my attempt was childish! Another time I brought flowers to her with all the heads snipped off, and upon her asking where the flower part was I said “They’re your axe-husbands!” She placed her head in her palm and shook her head.

I confided in Emily for help trying to win Constance’s heart, since Emily was obsessed with romance.

And what she suggested was … Something only Emily would suggest.

“Oh, well she is still a woman so she wouldn’t want anything from you, she would want to know how you feel about her! Tell her how beautiful you think she is, not a pick up line but actually how you see her, tell her how you really feel about her - about how your love makes you feel, and be your long legged self.” She placed her rather tiny hand on my upper arm since she struggled to actually reach my shoulder.

“Feelings are pointless.” I had stated, which seemed to break Emily- if her glowing heart wasn’t showing through her chest I swear it would have actually shattered.

“If you don’t tell her your feelings then she will never know how you feel about her, no about of headless flowers are going to do you any good.”

I rolled my eyes in response and sighed, I might as well try it at least once.

And so I made my way up to the attic to Constance and pushed open the door, she was standing by the window as always and watching the graveyard below where the ghosts were drinking, singing, and doing things that only dead people could do. (removing heads, shooting each other in the face, and ect.)

“Come with more gifts?” Constance laughed lightly and looked at me but was puzzled when there was nothing in my hands.

“No, I just came with … me.” I could feel myself getting warm, could ghosts blush? If they could then I was sure that I was doing it right now. “You’re beautiful.” I blurted out as fast as I could, this felt as if I was taking off all my clothes in front of her - as if I was even more transparent than I already was, I walked through my life completely closed off to anything outside of me, but at this moment I was so willing to show her in my heart where no one has touched me since I was a child.

“Red?” Constance was stepping towards me and took my hand, “What did you say?”

“You’re beautiful, like sea-glass reflecting against the bluest ocean - your words dance out of your mouth like a ballet and they have dance through my head even now, but even if I went mad from hearing you speak everyday of my life- er … death, I would be glad to have gone mad by your doing.” She was blinking as if not expecting what was happening, but I couldn’t stop now. “I love you, Constance Hatchaway, and if loving you means I must have my head removed then so be it, I will part with any of my limbs if you’ll love me as well-”

“Oh! Yes!” It was my turn to be surprised then, she was so quick about her answer.

“Y-yes?”

“Of course Red! What? Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

“You never seemed to respond to any of my other attempts at courting is all.”

“It was charming! You were always charming!” She threw her arms around my neck and I tasted her lips- softer than any lips I had kissed when I was human, and even more alive.

If this was a sin then I was sure I was sinning just right.

[tenroseforeverandever]

Dear Father Christmas… Chapter 24: December 24, 2039

MASTERPOST

Characters:  Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble; OC Therin Thomson; Javic Thane; Gray Thane; OC Tianza; the TARDIS; OC Abby Tyler-Milne; OC Trevor Tyler-Milne;

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love; gun violence; violence resulting in death; life-threatening injury; life threatening situations; life threatening illness; original characters

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Chapter Summary: Despite having so many reasons to celebrate throughout the past year, Rose can’t quite manage to feel as happy as she ought to.

Notes: So, any ideas for posting chapters of this story throughout the summer and fall went completely out the window… Nevertheless, with the Christmas season upon us, please enjoy another installment of Rose’s annual letter to Father Christmas. I am intending to complete this story this year. Only seven chapters to go after this one!

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas, 2017 prompts. The one I’m using today is Ring.

My brilliant betas, @rose–nebula and mrsbertucci: are still putting up with me. They talk through things with me and provide me with endless inspiration. Thank-you, my luvs!

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2039

Dear Father Christmas,

We’ve had so many reasons to celebrate over the past year. I just wish I could feel as happy as I ought to. You know the saying, “the smile didn’t reach someone’s eyes”? Well that’s how I feel: like I should be thrilled and excited – and I’m almost there – but there’s this weight pressing down on me I can’t quite shake. I just feel so sad, not to mention, bloody guilty. Here it is, Christmas Eve, and we’re about to decorate the tree. After the year we’ve had, I should have that warm, fuzzy, Christmassy feeling. Instead, I feel like you’ve gone and left a lump of coal in the pit of my stomach. The Doctor keeps telling me not to be so hard on myself, that it wasn’t my fault. But it really was…

But enough of that! I’ll give you the good news first, yeah?

So, back in February, on Valentine’s Day, after four years of steady dating, Gray finally proposed to Hope. I was thrilled for them. I couldn’t ask for a better match for my little girl. They’re such a lovely pair; they work side by side, partners in every sense of the word – such a great team. He grounds her when she needs grounding and lifts her up and encourages her when her (well-hidden) insecurities kick in.

Mum was, of course, beside herself. It’s been a few years since she’s had a wedding to sink her teeth into. She (and Dad) have offered the mansion and grounds for the ceremony and reception, but much to her chagrin, the two lovebirds don’t seem to be in any rush to tie the knot. They’re perfectly happy, living in sin (Mum’s words! She should talk… all those years on the Estate, bringing home random blokes), and working on Lunar Base Sheppard for the time being.

The Doctor was another case entirely...

Hope and Gray had dropped by a few days after Valentine’s to announce their engagement. They’d taken a shuttle in, so they could surprise us. And as much as the Doctor loves a good surprise, this one threw him for a loop. He hadn’t taken their news well… at all. It didn’t help that Hope had started off her announcement with the infamous words, “So here’s the thing…” In his mind, nothing good ever comes of Hope starting a conversation with those words, and he immediately sprang into full-blown over-protective dad mode. The two of them got into one of their classic, explosive Father-daughter arguments, which mostly involved him trying to force his opinions down her throat, and her defending herself by returning the favour.

Gray (bless) tried to step in and mediate before I could warn him off. I knew from plenty of first-hand experience, it was best to just let the two idiots resolve things on their own. (They always did, in time, usually with their traditional mug of cocoa and loads of apologies.) But, live and learn, I suppose... The poor, innocent baby walked right into a row between the Oncoming Storm and Hurricane Hope, a super-storm in the making.

He came out of it in one piece, but decidedly shell-shocked. He’d overheard the Doctor, a man who he thought liked him, drag his name through the mud more than once. That, in and of itself, must have been devastating, but to top it off, despite what I said earlier about Gray being able to ground Hope, he’d learned the hard way, no amount of reasoning would settle her when she was locked in a battle of wills with her father.

If Charlie had been there, she would have clapped him on the shoulder and cheerfully welcomed him to the family. As it was, Mum took him under her wing, wrapping an arm around him and leading him to the kitchen, shooting daggers at the Doctor the whole way. “C’mon, sweetheart. Come help me make a cuppa, yeah. Heaven knows, I could use one, and I know you could, too.”

For the return trip to the lunar base the next day, I offered to take them in the TARDIS. Hope had dug in her heels, still furious with her father, especially for belittling Gray. (I was pissed with him too and had let him have it the previous night, in private, after the Perfect Storm had abated.) But Gray tugged Hope aside and kissed her forehead and hugged her tight. She settled right down, and he was able to persuade her to take me up on my offer. His calming influence over her had apparently returned.

I had considerably less success with the Doctor. He was the Oncoming Sulk, brooding away in his den. I eventually convinced him to come with us to see Hope off, but he’d lurked in the balcony of the console room the entire time. I’d been hoping he and Hope would make up before she and Gray disembarked, but this time, the hurt was running deep. I figured it would be a while before Hope could forgive her father for some of the things he’d said. Quite right, too. He’d been completely out of line, well beyond his normal “rude and not ginger”.

And he knew it.

The minute Hope and Gray left, he finally slunk out of the shadows. Guilt and remorse were rolling off him over our bond. He paced around the TARDIS console, fiddling with the switches and buttons, but not setting a course… just fidgeting. For the time being, the TARDIS stayed put on Lunar Base Sheppard.

“Penny for ‘em?” I was furious with him but consciously kept that emotion suppressed. I mean, I understood where he was coming from: Hope’s his first-born, his beloved daughter, and although he trusts and respects Gray (despite his earlier words), it’s difficult for him to think about letting her go. It was for me too.

“She’s too young.”

I had to roll my eyes. “She’s only a little younger than I was when you proposed to me.”

“Yeah, but you… were you…” He visibly sagged. “She hasn’t dated enough people.”

I’m afraid the tone of my response came out a bit sarcastic. That and I couldn’t help laughing at him. I mean, his comment was absurd, given how strict he had always been about her dating. “Oh, so now you want her to date more? I never thought I’d see the day.”

He gawked at me. “NO! No, no, no, no! Absolutely not! I just don’t want them rushing into anything.”

“And they’re not… They’re engaged. They haven’t even set a date. They want to wait. Doctor, she’s an adult. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s had plenty of experience with the universe. Besides, Gray is a good man.”

“I know, I know…” His conflicted emotions bombarded me, and his pacing and fidgeting intensified. He was muttering under his breath, and I caught Javic Thane’s name somewhere among the garbled bits of nonsense he was spewing out.

“What was that?”

“What?” He stopped to gape at me again.

“You mentioned Javic…”

“Did I?

“Yup.”

“Interesting…” He ran his hands through his hair, hedging.

“Out with it!”

“Out with what?”

Santa, I just glared at him. Honestly, after all these years…

“Oh, all right. I just can’t imagine being related to Javic Thane – basically, Captain Jack Harkness, need I remind you – even if only by marriage.”

I stepped up to him and put my arms around his neck. “Doctor, Jack and Javic (both) have always been the best of friends to us, yeah. They already are family, even if one is locked away in another universe. And Gray is also part of our family. He loves Hope. Doctor…”

In seconds, my great Time Lump was babbling out a litany of apologies.

“Not really me you need to apologise to, is it?”

He shook his head, no. “I love you.”

“I know… I love you, too, ya big plonker.”

Within minutes he had prepared four mugs of cocoa: two with whipped cream and chocolate curls for him and Hope; one with marshmallows for me; and one with a peppermint stick for Gray. When he opened the TARDIS doors, Hope, with Gray in tow, was waiting on the other side. The two of them carried four steaming, chocolatey mugs of their own between them. None of us could help laughing.

Needless to say, heartfelt apologies were spoken, and everyone was back on good terms within minutes. I looked around at their happy faces, but the entire experience had reminded me of my own engagement… and I couldn’t stop the sadness from taking away from the celebratory mood. Luckily, only the Doctor noticed, and after Hope and Gray had returned home, he took me to Gallifrey, where he held me and comforted me all night long, and distracted me with stories and myths of the various constellations as we lay among the long fronds of red grass, gazing up at the stars.

But, before I go down that long, sad road, I promised I would give you the good news first, and there’s a bit more of that to be had. Santa, I’m an Auntie again! And little Abby is a big sister now. Trevor joined the family in May. He’s the cuddliest little bloke you could hope to meet. He got his two front teeth in, just in time for Christmas, and shows them off all the time with the biggest smiles in the universe. Tony and Noah are proud as punch, and Mum only keeps her hands off the poor little chap long enough to knit him his very first Christmas jumper.

It’s lovely having little ones around for the holidays again. I’d forgotten how special it was. As our children have grown up, the focus has gradually shifted; I hardly even noticed it happening. But this year, Abby is old enough to really enjoy Christmas, and understand a bit about what’s going on. It’s so exciting to experience the magic of the holidays through her innocent eyes.

And now for the bad news... Another event that should have been happy was our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, in September. A time for celebrating, right?

Wrong! All it did was open up wounds that had never really begun to heal in the first place. I don’t think they ever will. Like I said before, the Doctor doesn’t blame me, but I blame myself. Santa, the truth is I lost my wedding and engagement rings. They’re gone, and I have no idea where. I’ve been so upset over this. (Oh, God, I’m starting to cry again.) Those beautiful rings, irreplaceable, designed by the Doctor just for me, as a symbol of our commitment and love, gone! Gone because I’d been careless. The joke is, I never take them off… ever! But all I know is I must have taken them off sometime in early January because I haven’t seen them since. I just don’t remember doing it. We’ve looked everywhere… everywhere! Through the plumbing, under things, inside things, between things. Please, Santa, if you find them on your travels… please bring them home to me.

We decided to check the TARDIS, too, even though we knew the rings weren’t there. She would have told me immediately if I had left them behind. After all, she was instrumental in giving me my engagement ring in the first place, all those years ago. I remember it as clear as day. Now, if I could only remember why and where I took off my rings back in January this year…

Mum, of course, threw us a huge extravaganza of a party, I think as much to try to lift my spirits as to celebrate our anniversary. I hadn’t allowed her to throw me a fiftieth birthday party, back in the spring, so I had to give her this one. It was all a bit much, but it made her happy, and it was quite nice to meet up with friends, old and new.

On the actual day of our anniversary, the Doctor and I just wanted a quiet night to ourselves. With the guilt I was feeling (and had been feeling all year), I wasn’t up to much else. Luckily, it was a warm evening and we decided to head out to the treehouse with our supper and our sleeping bag, so we could spend the evening cuddling under the stars. We reminisced about the rings and how the Doctor and the baby TARDIS had contrived to surprise me with a marriage proposal on Christmas morning, nearly twenty-six years ago.

We had still been living in our little flat. Even now, looking back, I can’t believe how far we came in just that one year. I had been such a cow to him when he first arrived, and basically a year later he was proposing to me. That was a surprise too; I had no idea he was going to do anything like that. Not that I’d been averse to the idea, it’s just we’d agreed we were already bonded in the most meaningful and intimate way possible. And to be honest, we were really focussed on growing the baby TARDIS. She was such a tiny, little thing, not even a foot tall and just starting to develop her bioluminescent bulbs at the ends of her little branches.

I’d been worried the week before because she had developed a big lump on one of her branches, and her growth had slowed noticeably. But the lump had disappeared after a few days, and her growth had returned to normal. The strange bit was the Doctor hadn’t seemed at all worried throughout the entire incident. But that hadn’t stopped my imagination racing through all kinds of horrible scenarios, so potential marriage proposals were just about the last thing on my mind.

Anyway, Christmas morning, me and the Doctor exchanged gifts – I don’t even remember what I gave him – and he handed me the TARDIS with a big, festive bow wrapped around her main trunk. I was so confused, Santa, I can’t begin to tell you. Then the Doctor pointed to a spot on one of the TARDIS’ branches and told me to tickle her… just there. I didn’t take him seriously at first, but then the TARDIS chirped in my mind, encouraging me. What else could I do? I had to tickle her, yeah?

So, I did as I’d been asked, and I was treated to a serenade of TARDIS “giggles” (for lack of a better word) in my mind. The part of the branch I was tickling was swelling under my touch, and I realized it was the same spot I had seen the growth a few days earlier. I stopped, afraid I was harming our sweet baby. Oh, Santa, I was so worried!

“Go on, then,” the Doctor cajoled, “keep going. Tickle her. You aren’t hurting her, I promise.”

I remember biting my lip; I was incredibly unsure I was doing the right thing. But the Doctor was encouraging me, and the TARDIS seemed to be enjoying herself, so I tickled her more. Suddenly, a gorgeous ring popped out of the swelling, directly into my palm. I was dumbstruck, and I barely registered the Doctor dropping to one knee before me.

He took the ring from me and gestured for me to set the TARDIS down. “Rose Tyler…” His hands were shaking as he took my left hand and slid the ring onto my fourth finger.

“Doctor?” At the sound of my name, with no other words following it, I had been so irrationally afraid his image would fade before my eyes, the way it had done on Bad Wolf Bay, only a few years earlier.

I felt such relief when he broke his silence. “I… erm…” he stammered, “I had this speech written out, all ready to go… Blimey, I don’t remember half of it right now. I’m so thick. My stupid, thick–”

I cupped his cheek, stroking the stubble with my thumb, reassuring him. “Just say what you’re feeling, yeah.”

“Alright... I love you!” he blurted. “Blimey, Rose, I love you so much! And I know we’re already bonded telepathically, but I wanted to make it official the human way, too. If you’ll have me Rose, I promise… I promise you forever. I’ll love you forever.”

I felt so weak and happy with love for the ridiculous, lovely man kneeling before me. “I promise you forever, too… my Doctor.” I remember looking down at the ring, thinking I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. “You are asking me to marry you, right?”

“Yes! Oh, yes!”

“Then, yes, you plum.” I pulled him back to his feet. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I kissed him once for every “yes” I spoke. Then, we just held onto each other for the longest time. We were both in a state: tears mixed with laughter, and excitement and joy coursing back and forth over our bond.

Later when we were cuddled on the sofa eating a Christmas breakfast of banana pancakes, the Doctor told me how clever our little TARDIS had been: she had held onto the ring, allowing her coral to grow around it (that was the bump I’d seen.) She’d been trying to create a transcendental pocket within herself, and had been putting so much energy into it, her growth had slowed. She’d finally succeeded, creating her very first bigger-on-the-inside “space”.

I’d been fingering my ring. It was stunning. Such a beautiful thing. That’s when Doctor told me he’d designed the ring himself and confessed he’d meant to use all the elements he’d incorporated into the ring as parts of his proposal, but he’d gone uncharacteristically blank.  

The TARDIS-blue sapphire was nestled in a white-gold split shank, so the gem was flush with the top of the band, a practical but lovely setting, perfect for my often-physical work at Torchwood. The gold was woven into a filigree of infinity knots (“…a promise of forever…”) extending down each side of the ring, and accented with small diamonds (“…the stars I’ll take you to visit again someday…”)

It had been meant to be eternal, designed by this wonderful, ridiculous man as an affirmation of our unwavering love. And I had gone and lost it, along with the matching wedding band.

The memories of the baby TARDIS had made me smile, but thinking about the rings, I found myself bursting into tears again as we sat, snuggled in our treehouse.

“They’ll turn up, love,” the Doctor reassured me.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because they will. In fact, I’m so sure of it I made you these to go with them.” He handed me a little box, squeezing it into my hands. “Happy Anniversary, love. The adventure just keeps getting better every year.” He kissed my cheek. “Well, go on, open it!”

I was scared to. What if I lost whatever treasure was hidden inside. I finally opened the box and found two beautiful drop earrings that complemented the ring perfectly, each with a sapphire and a series of woven infinity knots, accented with tiny diamonds. “They’re beautiful,” I sobbed.

“Just like you. Here, let me help you put them on.”

“I’m scared I’ll lose them, too.”

“You won’t, love.”

He placed them in my ears and kissed my lips so tenderly I think I might have melted a little. I fidgeted with my bare finger. “I miss them so much.”

“I know… and I thought of that, too!” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

“You think you’re so impressive!”

“I am so impressive. I keep telling you.” With that, he handed me another little box, a ring box.

I popped it open. Inside was a simple gold band of infinity knots.

“I know it’s nothing compared to the missing ones,” he rushed out an explanation. “It isn’t even great quality gold. But it’s only meant to be a placeholder. I made it out of the chains of those BFF heart necklaces I gave you that very first Christmas… here, together. I thought that would make it a bit special. I put the pendants on the chain with your old TARDIS key for safekeeping.”

“More than a bit! It’s perfect. What a brilliant idea!”

He beamed. “Here, allow me.” He took my hand, the way he had more than twenty-five years ago, and slipped the ring over my fourth finger. “Rose Tyler…”

The weight felt good on my hand. It fit perfectly. “Yes, Doctor?”

“I love you… so much. I have one life, Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you… if you want.”

“Oh, yes! Every single time: yes! Always and forever.”

And so, Santa, that’s my story for this year. The rings have never turned up. I don’t think they ever will, but the Doctor is ever the optimist about them. I know they are just things, material possessions, but they were so much more than that to me. Their cost wasn’t important; what mattered was the thought and love that went into them. The replacement ring is just as significant, in its own way, for just the same reasons.

But I suppose, just because I’ve lost the rings, it doesn’t in any way diminish the love that created them. That promise of forever is just as strong (if not stronger) today as it was twenty-five wonderful years ago. And now, after writing this letter, it’s given me a chance to think things through and really put things in perspective. I think my smile will finally be able to reach my eyes again tonight.

Oh, here comes the Doctor with all the boxes of ornaments. Time to sign off and get our tree decorated and ready in time for your annual visit.

Happy Christmas, Santa. Hope you and Mrs. Claus and all the reindeer receive those special gifts this year, made with love that will last forever, long after the gifts themselves are no more.

love, Rose

P.S.: Santa! You’ll never guess what happened. The rings turned up, buried in amongst the garland and tinsel. A little Christmas miracle! I remember now! When I was taking down the tree, last year, the needles kept getting stuck under my rings, and were really irritating. I took them off and put them on the tea table for safe keeping. I must have put the garland down there too and swept the lot into the box when I was packing it all away.

Naturally, the Doctor takes full credit for finding them (he pulled the garland from the box.) And now he’s doing his I-told-you-so dance.

He can gloat all he wants! I’m just happy to have those rings back home on my finger, where they belong. The lovely ring he gave me for our twenty-fifth, is on my right hand now, a promise ring of sorts, another symbol of our devotion to one another.

Happy Christmas again, Santa! Lots of love to everyone!