#hes so hot in this film its unbelievable

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Hans Hagenfeld

The Big Circus (1959) dir. Joseph M. Newman

[waitinqroom]

thinking about when i had a boyfriend but before he was my boyfriend and we were just talking i tried to tell him about how this one girl led me on really badly (i still have a buncha posts on here from fall 2021 about liking her, lol) as friends confiding in friends . but then after i told the story he tried to convince me that she didnt actually lead me on and i was just delusional

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Clark Gable (Gone With the Wind, It Happened One Night)—There's no proof that Clark Gable stripping in It Happened One Night caused the sale of undershirts to take a nosedive, but there's also no proof that it didn't do that. And either way, him saucily undressing for bed in front of a woman who was married—not to him—is too deliciously scandalous to ignore. He deserves votes for this scene if nothing else. He got an Academy Award for this movie! He could play comedy just as well as drama, he earned medals for his bravery as a bomber gunner in WW2, he competed in car races, he has a great mustache and perfect eyebrows for sexy smirking, he's just HOT.

Sidney Poitier (Lilies of the Field, To Sir With Love)—an unbelievably beautiful man, a complete class act. Something about his eyes breaks my heart every time.

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Clark Gable propaganda:

"Listen, he was "the King of Hollywood" for a reason and a suave motherfucker. Also a Major in the air force during WWII!"

"So Clark Gable was the king of Hollywood for a reason but honestly what makes him hot to me is his relationship with his wife Carole Lombard like if she loved him so she can't be wrong. Their relationship is so tragic like they met first when they filmed No Man of Her Own in 1932 and like there was nothing between them then but in 1936 they met again at a Hollywood party and this time things were different. Basically from that moment on they were inseparable and had to carry out their romance in secret until his divorce was finalized (he was separated when they met again at the party) and then they eloped in 1939 when he had a break during filming Gone With The Wind. They had a 20 acre farm together with horses, cows and chickens and they loved to do all those outdoorsy activities together. When they were apart for various work obligations they would send each other goofy gag gifts. In 1942 Carole was on a trip to sell war defense bonds when on the flight back home her plane crashed in the mountains of Nevada. Her death devastated Gable he flew to Nevada and demanded he be taken to the spot where the plane crashed despite the dangers posed by its location. Amongst the wreckage they found a hair clip he had given her for Christmas. Her death forever changed him he became more reckless and signed up for the US Army Air Corps in 1942 and he kept her bedroom unchanged in their home. He never stopped loving her when he died in 1960 he was buried next to her. I know Clark wasn't a perfect person and their is some speculation that she was racing home on that plane to him because she was worried that he was having an affair or something but relationships are complicated especially ones occurring in 1930s and 1940e Hollywood amongst two of the biggest starts at the time. (I just wanted to include this so ya know I'm not just looking at their relationship as all sunshine but like you can't deny the love they shared)

"They had an ineffable quality in romance, the ability to have fun together... they were soulmates who thought life was delicious, and they made everyone's life delicious around them" -Esther Williams

"GWtW is an epic stretching across years so Clark has a chance to show off a whole bunch of different sides, from Hot Outsider to Husband to Father and so on. But his most attractive is his final line of the movie, made only better by the story that he lobbied the Film Industry to ‘Let Rhett Curse!’ And who is more classic 30s Hollywood than this man?"

"Also apparently his name was Billy Gable then Glark Gable before finally landing on Clark Gable. A fact that I cant forget now glark gable lives in my mind now"

Sidney Poitier propaganda:

[pastamansta]

🔥 Tim Burton (him as a person or his aesthetic, your choice!)

"Beetlejuice" (1988) reminds me a lot of another film I watched recently; "Tombstone" (1993). Sold by an aesthetic and a FANTASTIC performance from a side character, audiences were conned into loving a mediocre film. I'm not Lindsey Ellis, so don't expect me to talk about the cartoon.

"Batman" (1989) and its sequel is proof that Burton will not be giving up his aesthetic for God or money. Gotham is heavily disconnected from both the film and its source material, with little reason other than its director. There's a reason no one calls these "Keaton's Batmans," they call them "Burton's Batmans." Jack Nicholson is great as The Joker, but that's no hot take. The hot take is that Devito is too horny as The Penguin, and it makes me uncomfortable for a film that's already so sexual.

"Edward Scissorhands" (1990) is a bitter, bitter film where artist finally meets muse. Not, like, in the plot, but in the production. Depp and Burton were made for eachother... or at least that's what I'm supposed to think. This movie's just too messy, however, and can't decide where its focal point lies and leaves me wishing I had just watched "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" (2000) instead.

"Sleepy Hollow" (1999) leaves me, a fan of the original text, I know that's probably a weird thing to say, miffed, even if understanding. Outside of some pacing issues, it's a bold reimagining that feels like Burton attempting to get out of his comfort zone... but I just didn't need this story to be turned into an homage to B-horror. Go watch that Disney short, eh?

"Big Fish" (2003) is his best film. I am hardly qualified to speak on it, and even if I did, I would cry. So, you know, just go watch that shit.

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" (2005) is destined to be compared to "Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory" (1971), and why wouldn't it? In thirty-four years since the making of the original, not a single person worth listening to said "i need this done right," including Burton himself, which is why he tries to add so much, but no amount of additions changes the fact that he casted his muse instead of someone who could, you know, act like Wonka? So, you know, destined for failure and to be loved by everyone who won't watch movies made before 1987.

"Corpse Bride" (2005) is one of only two claymation films that Burton would actually direct, and he uses this time to steal a Jewish story and make it less Jewish. I don't like the ending or the songs and it feels like it could be cut in half and achieve the same effect.

"Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" (2007) literally doesn't have the iconic opening number from the stage play??? Overall, there's rarely a pairing of source material and director that works as well as this one... If only I enjoyed the source material, eh? So dark, so bitter, so edgy, so... nothing. I never think about this movie. When I do, I think of Mrs. Lovett's dream sequence and remember the good old days of "Big Fish" (2003) when Burton liked to use color.

"Alice in Wonderland" (2010) is one of my guiltiest pleasures in all of film. It is the reason why every time Disney announces a live-action remake, my ears perk up. If all of them were as wild, unhinged, original, creative, and inspired as this one... Well, I think Disney might not be fucking bleeding money right now. No one ever even mentions that it's a sequel to the original animated film. A SEQUEL, not a remake. Sometime movie-goers surprise me with how little they think.

"Frankenweenie" (2012) blows. I don't care how unique it is, I do not like it.

"Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children" (2016) is one of the funniest remnants of the teen dystopia genre. Like, it hardly applies, but is trying SO HARD that it's unbelievable. Also, props to Mr. "Black People Aren't My Aesthetic" for casting Samuel L. Jackson as a dude who eats white babies. (I do not mean that.) Seriously, this is proof that Burton, as a modern director, should no longer be taken seriously.

"Dumbo" (2019) is AAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHA I FUCKING HATE THIS DUDE HOLY SHIT

If I didn't mention, I haven't seen it. Yes, I know I skipped some big ones. I may watch them one day, but I am in no rush.

[hide-in-imagination]

"And I never saw you coming" | Simbar Oneshot

Summary: She saw him standing with a glass in his hand and thought nothing of it. It was only later, when she got to talking with him and smelled no alcohol in his breath that it gave her pause.

Wait… is that Fanta?

Or: In a world known for its vices and excesses, professional actress Ámbar meets an unbelievably pure guy.

| 9.5k words. Rated T. Mentions of underage drinking, drug consumption, and some sexual themes but nothing too explicit. |

---------------------------------------------

It was Delfi who introduced them.

Delfi was one of the few people Ámbar could really call a friend in the world of appearances they both lived in. They had met how most actors met other actors— through a project. They were fifteen at the time, Ámbar had been acting for three years, Delfi had been acting for one year. She’d been nervous about participating in her first big show. Ámbar had helped her through it, maybe because she saw her younger self reflected in her, and between hundreds of working hours together, countless anecdotes when the cameras weren’t filming, and actually many things they happened to have in common, a durable bond formed, one strong enough to last after the project was over and they went their separate ways.

Now twenty-three, Ámbar was very glad she had managed to make real friends in her formative years, both from the industry and outside of the industry. Those who were in like her understood her like no other. Those who weren’t a part of it helped to ground her, made her see different perspectives, kept her humble.

It was very hard to date outside of the industry though. Guys who weren’t part of it just didn’t get it, weren’t equipped to deal with the exposure that it meant to date a public figure, ended up resenting the changing schedules, the last-minute cancellation of plans, the lack of ‘normalcy.’

(They failed to see, for her, this was the norm.)

So Ámbar was not surprised when Delfi told her she had met a guy at an awards show. She wasn’t surprised either when two weeks later she told her he was now her boyfriend— Delfi tended to fall in love a little fast. Ámbar listened to her talk about how her new boyfriend was so hot and he was in a band and he was oh so romantic. Ámbar wanted to warn her that musicians have a rep for being cheaters, but those were her own trust issues talking and she didn’t even know the guy to make any kind of assumptions. Her friend was happy, and while she tended to get a little too absorbed in love every time, her taste was usually not bad, so Ámbar decided to give this guy a chance.

Delfi dragged her to a party so she could meet Pedro, her new, apparently perfect, boyfriend. Ámbar would’ve preferred a quieter scene to meet him for the first time, but she figured this one had its perks too— She could observe how he behaved in this kind of environment, if his eyes wandered to the models and other celebrities when Delfi wasn’t looking, if he indulged too much in drinks and substances when he was out of the public eye.

To his credit, Ámbar couldn’t find any fault in him as they got talking. Pedro really seemed to be the nice guy Delfi had described him as. He was lively, funny, wisely nervous at meeting the best friend of his girlfriend, and with the way he looked at Delfi, it didn’t seem like he had eyes for anyone else.

Ámbar was glad. Of course, this was just a first meeting and the happy couple were just in the honeymoon stage where nothing ever seemed to be wrong, but she was happy for her friend. Delfi had been very sad and insecure after her last crush didn’t want to be with her. It was good she was feeling loved now.

“Where are Nico and Simón?” Delfi asked her boyfriend after a while.

Pedro looked around. “Oh, they went on their own when I said I was going to meet you, they must be around here somewhere.”

Until then, Nico and Simón were just names Ámbar recognized because of Delfi. She’d told her they were Pedro’s bandmates, and just like with Pedro, Ámbar had refrained from googling them, wanting to form an opinion herself separate from what the media might say, so she had no idea what they looked like.

“Ah, there they are, talking with Jim and Yam.”

Ámbar looked in the direction Pedro was pointing at. Jim and Yam were a music duo she knew already. Yam carried the vocals while Jim carried the moves, although both were good at either thing. They were also a couple, if Ámbar wasn’t mistaken, but they didn’t seem to be out yet.

She recognized the two girls in the crowd, so she switched her gaze to the two guys talking with them. One was blond and dressed stylishly with lots of accessories and a burgundy blazer. He seemed to be sweet talking the girls judging by the smirks and looks he sent them. Poor guy, he had no idea they didn’t swing that way.

Ámbar didn’t blame him— the Roller Band was new in the scene, a rising trio of musicians the world was just starting to know. The lack of knowledge went both ways.

The other guy had dark hair and bronze skin. He seemed more relaxed in his outfit, just a green t-shirt with a black denim jacket on top and a pair of jeans— and a flannel shirt tied around his hips, probably just for style.

He had a glass in his hand he nursed from time to time as he spoke. Ámbar thought nothing of it— she had her own glass in hand and it was a very common sight. His smile seemed genuine. That wasn’t common. But then again, he could just be drunk.

It was some minutes later that the two guys came over to them, called by Pedro, and Delfi introduced them to Ámbar.

“Ámbar, this is Nico,” she said, gesturing to the blond guy, “and this is Simón,” she pointed to the brunet, “I’ve told you about them.”

“Yeah, a pleasure,” Ámbar greeted them with an amicable smile.

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful,” Nico told her with a wink.

Ámbar refrained from rolling her eyes, but Simón didn’t have the same sympathy for his friend, rolling his eyes and playfully shoving him away.

“Ignore him, he’s always like this.” He smiled at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Ámbar. Delfi has told us a lot about you.”

Oh, an accent.

Right, now that she remembered, Delfi did mention he was Mexican.

His smile looked cuter up close.   

“Those better be good things,” Ámbar replied, throwing Delfi a playful warning look.

“Of course! I’m your friend!” She defended herself immediately.

The group laughed and they started to get to know each other. They asked the typical “Have you been in anything I might have seen?” and Ámbar politely asked if they had any new music coming out soon (she already knew from Delfi but it was always better to hide just how much her friend talked about her new boyfriend).

Speaking of the couple, Delfi and Pedro sneaked away from the group at some point (probably to make out—Ámbar didn’t judge.) Nico then excused himself to flirt with a dancer (apparently, he got the message Ámbar wasn’t interested), and that left Ámbar with Simón, both joking about how they were abandoned by their friends.

It was only when they got to talking one-on-one, a little closer because of all the ambiance noise, that Ámbar noticed she couldn’t smell any alcohol in Simón’s breath, even though he’d been drinking from his glass the whole time.

It gave her pause, so she looked at the liquid he was holding with more attention, and she saw bubbles— bubbles and a strong artificial orange color.

Wait… is that Fanta? 

“You’re not drinking?”

She couldn’t help but voice the question— it was very uncommon to see someone at a party like this drinking just soda (unless you were a minor, but even then, unfortunately, they always got their hands on something stronger.)

Simón stopped in the middle of the story he’d been telling when Ámbar spoke and looked down at his glass. “Oh. Yeah, I usually don’t.”

“Really?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She tried to be polite though. “Is that some religious belief or…?”

“No, I just don’t like it much,” he said lightly, shrugging.  

… Huh.

“So, no hard drugs either?”

He laughed. “No, definitely not.”

Well I’ll be damned. This guy was a unicorn.

It was extremely uncommon, but Ámbar didn’t judge him— in fact, it was amazing that working in the industry they worked in he still remained so… pure, in a way. She hated to say it, but everyone ended up in something eventually, especially if they started young. She personally had never delved into drugs, thankfully, but she had other vices— Control freak behaviors, perfectionism, a battle against narcissism she’d only recently won, and probably many other little things she and her therapist hadn’t dug up yet.  

It seemed she stayed quiet for too long because Simón looked at her with worry. “…What, you do?”

Ámbar’s eyes widened. “Nonono, me neither,” she said, dissolving into a laugh.

“Oh, okay,” he chuckled with relief. “I thought I had been rude laughing at your face like that.”

“Oh no, you’re fine. Actually, I was the rude one for interrupting you just to ask why you don’t drink— Keep talking.” She leaned against the wall, ready to listen. “Día de los Muertos was it?”

------------------------- 

They didn’t talk much more that night, just about half an hour, one hour tops. Some fellow cast members of Ámbar’s newest show showed up to the party and she started chatting with them, so Simón politely stepped aside and let them have their fun, saying he was going to find Nico and Pedro. Ámbar spent the rest of the night dancing, drinking, and gossiping with her coworkers, so it wasn’t until much later, when she was getting ready to sleep, that Simón crossed her mind again.

I didn’t say goodbye.

With all the alcohol and exhaustion in her body, it was a surprise she even thought about anything at all. She got into bed after taking off her makeup and washing her face, and the second her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

The next day she woke up with a mild hangover and texts from Delfi saying she had also made it home safely. Normally, Ámbar wouldn’t have gone to sleep— wouldn’t have left the party at all— before checking on her best friend, but she was with her boyfriend, so, not wanting to interrupt whatever they might be up to, she just sent Delfi a text saying she was going home and asking to receive signs of life later and called it a night. She was glad Delfi was okay. Honestly, if Pedro couldn’t even make sure of that during one party, Ámbar would’ve kicked his ass.

The hungover laid off throughout the day and by mid-afternoon she was good as new— perks of experimenting with alcohol since fifteen and learning exactly what her limits were. (She did not want a repeat of November 28th’ 2017, thank you very much.) Also by afternoon, she came to realize all the guys from the Roller Band had followed her on Instagram. Ámbar thought ‘why not?’ and followed them back. After all, Delfi and Pedro’s relationship was public by now, so no one would blink an eye at her best friend following them.

Two months passed by in the blink of an eye in between shoots for her new show, commercials, interviews, and the other 20% of her time that Ámbar called ‘having a personal life.’ During that time, sometimes the guys liked one of her posts or Instagram stories and she liked one of them—Regular stuff. Delfi also got Ámbar into the Roller Band’s songs. Not that she purposefully tried to— She just naturally sang them a lot without realizing it, and they were catchy, so eventually, they got stuck in Ámbar’s head too.

What she did show Ámbar were some music videos. “Pedro looks so good in this one!!” She said— about every single one of them. To be fair though, Pedro did look good. All of them did.

Ámbar watched all their music videos one afternoon out of curiosity. She could tell which were old ones and which were more recent, not only because they looked younger in the early ones (wow, Simón used to love beanies), but because the level of production had significantly increased, surely because of the money their record label started pumping in when their popularity began to grow. And Ámbar could see why that happened. They had the looks and the talent— They sounded just as well live as they did in studio, which was rare these days. She hoped things kept going well for them. It would be sad if they had a couple years of fame and then fell to the shadows, never to be heard of again. It happened more often than one would think.   

The next time she saw Simón— at a party, again— the can in his hand was clearly beer. A tiny part of Ámbar felt weirdly disappointed by this, while another part felt bitterly vindicated. See? No one stays that clean for long in this industry.

At the end of the day though, it was just beer. Way lower alcohol percentage than the concoctions one usually saw being passed around at these gatherings. An image flashed through Ámbar’s brain of this guy doing a line in the bathroom and she felt sick. She hoped for his sake that it never came to that.

“Hey, Ámbar! How you been?”  

Simón looked simple but polished just like the last time she had seen him. He wore a white printed T-shirt and some black well-fitted pants, nothing extravagant. Oh, and a flannel shirt around his hips, of course (Ámbar had figured out by now that it was his brand). He had no jacket this time, which made sense given the rising temperatures (made worse by the enclosed place full of people). Ámbar herself had forgone a jacket this time— she only wore a maroon blouse and her favorite short skirt, because it had pockets. Any skirt that had pockets was a favorite.

Ámbar had been chatting with Emilia, another one of her friends from the industry, when Simón walked over to talk to her. Emilia was a makeup artist, one Ámbar had worked with so many times she was basically her personal makeup artist by now. The only reason she hadn’t offered her an exclusive contract yet was because Emilia was ambitious (a trait they had in common) and so she wanted to offer her services to as many big names as she could— form the biggest, most outstanding portfolio the industry had ever seen— and make the celebrities reach out to her. Ámbar believed that if Emilia kept doing what she was doing, her dream might as well come true in a couple of years.

Ámbar greeted Simón and introduced him and Emilia. They exchanged pleasantries, Emilia mentioning she’d heard a song of their band on the radio and Simón saying that if her own makeup was anything to go by, Emilia was very good at what she did. They were both very pleased to find another Mexican in the country.

“Where are the guys? Are you alone?” Ámbar asked him before they could keep reminiscing about their home and probably keep her out of the conversation.

“Pedro couldn’t come, I think he had plans with your friend,” he told her, elbowing her playfully. “Nico is over there somewhere,” he looked at the mass of people.

They all looked over and eventually found Nico’s blond head some meters to the back, talking with a brunette in a short golden dress.

“You should tell him to slow down, he’s gonna catch syphilis,” Ámbar warned him, only half-joking.

Simón’s eyes widened and his whole face turned comically dumbfounded before he got a hold of himself. “Oh, I, uh, I hope he’s being careful,” he said, watching his friend.

Ámbar almost laughed. What was that reaction? Talks about sex and STDs were as common as drugs at parties like these. Hell, talks about sex were common everywhere at their age.

Yet he looked so shocked, like he’d never expected something like that to come out of her mouth.

Adorable.

Ámbar brought her gaze from Simón to Emilia and saw she wasn’t the only one who had noticed this and was thinking something similar. Emilia had that look on her face, the one she always got when she was planning something, and she looked from Ámbar to Simón with a little smirk on her lips, barely concealed by the red cup in her hand.

Oh no. If Emilia decided she wanted a piece of that, Ámbar would have to make herself scarce immediately.

Opposite to her expectations though, Emilia broke the silence not to flirt but to announce her leave.

“Well, I’m gonna go say hi to some old friends and introduce myself to potential clients,” she said, taking a step back. “I’ll see you guys around. And Simón, we should hang out someday and eat some tacos. Real ones, not the poor imitations they sell around here.”

Simón laughed. “That sounds good.”

Oh, so Emilia was interested in Simón. For some reason, that left a sour taste in Ámbar’s mouth, and she didn’t know why— She liked Emilia, Simón seemed like a good guy, they were both from Mexico so they had that in common, it would be great if they got together, right? She should like that prospect.  

Right before leaving, Emilia leaned towards Ámbar and whispered in her ear.  

“Bon appétit, girl.”

She patted Ámbar’s shoulder and walked away, mixing with the crowd. Ámbar stood staring at her retreating back with a racing pulse. What the hell? What did she mean?

“Hey, so, um,” Simón pulled her out of her thoughts, “I saw you on that show on TV,” he said with an excited smile. “You were amazing. I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Oh, thank you.” Forget Emilia, she’s just messing with you. She had much too self-control to let some teasing get to her. “Yeah, it’s part of the many trainings one goes through as an actor to try to book more roles. Thus far, it’s only served me to book teenage shows like this one but,” she shrugged with a smile, “you never know.” Playing a teenager at her age wasn’t exactly what she’d love to be doing, but she couldn’t complain; there was a big company behind it and that always meant good exposure.

“You sound very good. You could be a singer if you wanted.”

She laughed slightly. “I wouldn’t say that…”

“No, really,” Simón said, earnest, “your voice is very beautiful.”

… Fuck.

Okay, something was wrong with her tonight because, after years of doing what she did, she was pretty desensitized to praise. Not that it didn’t feel great, of course, but she heard it everywhere she went, from fans to TV hosts, directors, managers, fellow actors, guys trying to get into her pants... There was nothing she hadn’t heard before, she was pretty certain.

So why the hell did this guy calling her voice beautiful make her want to blush?

Ámbar looked to the side a little. “…Thank you. I guess, coming from a musician, I should take that praise seriously,” she said in a playful tone. They were just having a casual conversation after all, there was no reason to get deep.

“You really should,” Simón replied in the same light tone. “I’m not one to lie or say things I don’t mean.” For most people, Ámbar would’ve called bullshit, but coming from him, she somehow believed that. “Which really makes me admire you actors,” Simón continued animatedly. “I’ve been told I can’t hold a lie to save my life, and meanwhile you guys have to portray completely different lives, and you make it look so believable. I mean, seriously, I was looking at you on that show and I was blown away. Your performance is incredible.”

Ámbar smiled and couldn’t help the way she stood a little taller. “Well, I’ve had many years to perfect my craft,” she replied with modesty. “I’m glad that all the work I’ve put into it shows on the screen.”

“It definitely does.” Simón looked away for a second. When he talked again, his tone was less giddy and more curious, more hesitant. “I, um… I happened to watch that episode where you kiss your co-star, I don’t remember the character’s name.”

“Joaquín.”

“Right, him. It was… unbelievable how real that looked,” he told her. “I mean, again, I don’t know how you actors do it, to kiss someone like that and really make it look like there’s love there. I mean, don’t you feel anything? Well, there are many cases of co-stars who end up dating each other in real life, I imagine it’s because of that.”

Ámbar blinked. “Yeah, um, it happens sometimes.” Sometimes it was just publicity stunts, but if he didn’t know that by now, he’d know it eventually. “I mean, like you say, with some actors the line between their real selves and their characters can get a little blurry. You start thinking ‘Hey, if it’s this wonderful when we perform, could it be as great if it were real?’ I personally try to really mark the difference between acting and real life, but I totally get how many of my peers get swallowed up by it.”

Simón nodded his head in understanding. “So… you and your co-star… there’s nothing going on?”

Ámbar chuckled. “No, there’s nothing going on between us, we’re just friendly on set.”

Simón smiled and turned to look at the people chatting and dancing. “I see.”

She couldn’t help but notice that he looked… relieved by that answer.

Oh.

Now, Ámbar knew how to read a room and how to read people— It was a skill that had been honed into her from years and years of auditions and public events, one she sometimes had to consciously turn off to just enjoy the moments and stop worrying what people might think of her. Given that experience, her assessments were almost always right, and in this case, she was pretty certain she wasn’t mistaken.

Emilia’s words came back to her. Bon appétit, she’d said. She had seen it before Ámbar did. From just a few minutes of conversation, in fact. And she didn’t say ‘Good luck with this one’ or ‘Call me later if you need an escape’— No. To her eyes, Simón was not someone Ámbar wanted to run away from. To her eyes, the interest was mutual.

Ámbar took a sip from her cup and seized the chance to look at Simón while his focus was elsewhere.  She ran her gaze over his profile: A pretty nose, a sharp jaw, long eyelashes, soft-looking hair.

Soft-looking lips.

Ámbar spun to face Simón. “Did it really look that real? The kiss.”

Simón turned to look at her. Pretty eyes.

“Yeah,” he said with a small laugh. “I guess you’re that good.”

Nice smile. Strong arms. Broad shoulders.

“Well, there’s a technique to it, just like with anything else,” she replied simply.

Simón nodded. “Right, I can imagine.”

He brought the can to his lips to drink from it.

Ámbar spoke.  

“Do you want me to show you?”

The can stopped centimeters from Simón’s mouth. His eyes flew in her direction and remained, searching her face, her own eyes. Ámbar kept his gaze. During that moment, it was like they had a silent conversation. 

Simón swallowed saliva.

“Okay.”

Ámbar smiled and grabbed his hand to take him somewhere more private. One of the perks of rich parties at rich guy’s houses was that there were many rooms the guests could choose from, either to partake in illicit activities, do substances, or do each other.

Simón left his beer can somewhere as Ámbar led him down a hall at a leisurely pace, searching for a door that wasn’t locked. His hand was big around hers. A little rough. Warm.

Ámbar sped up a bit.

Finally, she found a free room and got them inside. Ámbar didn’t bother turning the light on— There were plenty of colorful party lights filtering in through the back window, so she could see the bed in the middle of the room, a nightstand and a wardrobe next to it, and a dresser to her right, right next to the door.

She turned the lock and took a couple steps into the room before turning toward Simón.

“So, what kind of kiss you go for will always depend on the director, of course.” Ámbar left her red cup on top of the dresser as she began explaining. Simón, who hadn’t moved an inch since entering, was still standing in front of the door. “Sometimes they’ll want something to look very tender, so you barely move your lips, but you try to hold the other’s face or something like that to convey the emotion.”

Slowly, she took a step toward Simón and cupped his face between her hands, looking into his eyes. She took great pleasure in how he seemed incapable of looking away.  

“Sometimes they want passion,” she continued. “Heat. So you get as close as you can and pour everything you have into it.” In a fast stride, Ámbar pressed herself up against him, from chest to toe. Simón’s breath hitched. “Some actors think about someone they really like to get inspired. I usually just stay in character.”

Simón’s hands went to rest on her back. He cleared his throat quietly. “Do you… talk with the person you’ll be kissing? Beforehand. Like, to make a plan or…”

“Sometimes.” Ámbar entertained herself exploring the feel of his face with her fingers, running the back of them over his jaw and up to the roots of his hair as she spoke. “In some shoots, there’s this person called an Intimacy Coordinator. Like, if there’s a sex scene, this person will make sure that everyone’s boundaries are respected, that everyone involved feels comfortable… Then the director might tell you to put your hand here or there,” she took one of his hands from her back and placed it on the curve of her throat, “and then move it as the scene progresses…” She slid his palm slowly down her body, passing through her clavicle, the side of her breast, and her waist, to finally place it on her hip. “Stuff like that.”

Simón gulped. “It must be hard to do those things with so many cameras pointed at you.”

Ámbar laughed. “It is. You gotta be very tough and very professional. It helps when you’re working with a good team of people.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Wanna know the secret to the perfect kiss on camera?”

The room they were in wasn’t very illuminated, but she was certain that Simón’s wide pupils had nothing to do with that. Silently, he nodded.

“The secret to making it look good…” She leaned in slightly, leaving less space between them, “is to wait for the lips to come to you.” She grazed her nose against his. “Because usually you’d pucker them, right? You’d be impatient and want to speed up the contact.” She tilted her head to the other side, keeping the distance. “But it looks better if you keep your lips still, relaxed, and just wait until they touch.”

Ámbar closed her eyes, and very slowly, closed the remaining space between them until she pressed her lips against Simón’s.

She’d been right, his lips were soft. She could feel herself melting as they moved against hers, softly, exploringly, gentle presses and releases that left her lips tingling once she pulled away.

Their eyes found each other.

“Now you try it,” Ámbar said quietly.  

Simón stared at her eyes for a moment longer and then dropped his gaze to her mouth. He brought his lips near again and followed her instructions, waiting, keeping them nice and relaxed until they touched hers.

What a good student.

This kiss was a little harder, a little more intense— They had both learned each other’s taste earlier and discovered that they liked it. Simón hands slid to Ámbar’s waist and tried to pull her closer than they were already. Ámbar caressed his hair, his back, his shoulders. Their tongues touched. It was only small grazes, slow slides, but they made Ámbar’s head grow hazy all the same.

They were both breathing a little fast this time when they parted.

“There, you got it,” Ámbar rasped out. More than got it— he’s addicting.  

Simón seemed to be thinking something along those lines too because he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth.

“Ámbar, can I kiss you again without pretexts this time?”

The hint of desperation in his voice made something coil and burn in Ámbar’s stomach. She grabbed handfuls of his t-shirt and wondered when had been the last time she’d felt like this with anyone.

She had a hard time even answering with words but she made the effort. “Yes, go on.”

Simón wasted no time in covering her lips with his. Ámbar closed her eyes and let him do what he pleased, happy to go along with the ride, and oh, okay, yeah, he haddefinitelybeen holding back before.

He had her head spinning in mere seconds. If this was how he kissed, he didn’t need any classes at all. His big hands touched her all over, roaming her sides and drowning in her hair, and as if that wasn’t enough to leave her breathless, the way he moved his tongue against hers was pure bliss, all passion and warmth and electrifying wetness.  

Ámbar couldn’t help but moan into his mouth— it felt that good. Simón responded with his own sound— a lower, deeper one that curled her toes and made her crave for more contact. She delved her hands underneath his clothes, searching for his skin, and the muscles she found there on his abdomen, which twitched under her touch, almost made her push him into the bed right there.

It was minutes of pure, unbridled want passing through them before Simón started slowing down, first with his touches, then gently but surely bringing the kiss down to soft pecks, which allowed Ámbar to catch her breathing and stopped her from doing something reckless, like getting on her knees and pulling out what she hoped was a glorious cock as good as those kisses.

It still sounded like a good idea if she was honest. At the very least she’d like to keep making out with him because it felt really good and she had no idea why he stopped. She was ready to make her case that they should definitely keep doing that when Simón spoke first.

“Would you let me take you out to dinner sometime?”

Ámbar blinked. She looked at Simón and had to recalibrate her brain a little to process what he’d just said. His eyes were still dark from their previous liaisons, but there were nerves now there too— in all of him, actually. From Ámbar’s hands on his shoulders, she could feel his tension.

He really wants this.

Ámbar’s heart went wild inside her chest, which, yes, it had been doing since before, but this was different, very much different.

She didn’t think she managed to keep the tenderness off the curve of her lips. Given the case, who cared. “Yeah, I would like that.”

Simón’s nervousness left him in a spontaneous laugh, all teeth and happy and breathless, probably high on everything that had just happened. “Good.” He reached for his pants pocket. “I’ll give you my number— I don’t even know why I never gave you my number.”

Ámbar reached for her own phone. “I’ll give you mine too.”

“Great.” If Simón’s smile got any bigger, he was going to hurt his face.

That would be a crime.  

They switched phones so they could save each other in their contacts and then pocketed them again.

“Uh,” Simón rubbed the back of his neck adorably, come on, Ámbar, get a hold of yourself, “should we go back to the party?”

Ámbar pursed her lips, pretending to think about it. “Mmm… we could stay here for a few more minutes,” she said, grabbing his hands and walking backward towards the bed.

“Would that be okay?” Simón asked hesitantly as he followed.

“Trust me,” she sat them both down, “whoever is in the other rooms, they’re doing way worse.”

Simón chuckled until it was muffled by her lips.

Just as they said, they stayed a few minutes longer, making out and talking, although the make-out-to-talking ratio was about 10:1. They didn’t go further than some petting over their clothes, which was cool with Ámbar now that she knew he wanted more from her.

When she’d first brought Simón into this room, it had been impulsive. She had realized she wanted him, maybe ever since she met him, and she hadn’t wanted to waste any more time— Why would she? when he liked her too. Ámbar always went after what she wanted, and guys weren’t the exception.

She’d been ready to push him onto that bed and fuck the innocence out of him and deal with whatever consequence that led to later. It was the world she’d always lived in— Fast, intense, changing, chaotic. But he asked for a date. Simón had her practically in the palm of his hand and, instead of taking her, he asked for a date. It could’ve annoyed her. Like—We’re already here, you really wanna talk about that now? But it was just so… him that it endeared her instead. So what if she was used to faster and more superficial things? Wouldn’t a change do her good every once in a while? Didn’t it warm her heart that he wanted something concrete with her beyond here and now? Even though it wasn’t guaranteed there would be a future for them.

It would nice, Ámbar thought, if this could really turn into something real.

----------------

They set the date for two weeks later— as early as they could fit into their schedules (mostly Ámbar’s, which was packed with filming days).

They texted each other in the meantime, not an exorbitant amount, just enough to show that the mutual interest was still there and to get to know each other a little bit more— and enough for their friends to tease them about it.

Well, to be fair, Delfi’s comments weren’t so much teasing remarks as more of excited “Oh my god, now we can go on double dates together!!!”

“We haven’t even had one date yet, calm down,” was Ámbar’s down to earth response.

Now, Emilia on the other hand…

‘Called it’, her text read. ‘I want all the details later. He better make you scream Long live México.’

Ámbar didn’t reply to that.

(If it was up to her, she’d have him screaming Long live Argentina.)

The day rolled around and Ámbar got herself ready at her house (which she’d bought with her own money when she turned 21). It was Sunday evening and Simón told her he’d come to pick her up, so once Ámbar was ready with her casual but flattering black dress and her makeup, all she had to do was wait… and try to calm her nerves down a little bit— it’d been some time since she’d gone out on a proper date with someone.  

Five minutes early, she got a text from Simón saying he had arrived. Ámbar grabbed her purse and looked out the window, finding a dark blue car with tinted windows parked outside. She was grateful for the privacy.

Ámbar walked out of her house and towards the car and almost got into the backseat when the front window pulled down and she saw Simón at the wheel. Oh.

“Hi,” he greeted her with a smile.

Ámbar changed course and sat shotgun instead, closing the door right after. “Hey, sorry, I almost got into the backseat, I’m so used to people driving me everywhere,” she made fun of it.

“Oh, yeah, it happens to me too,” Simón said with a little chuckle. He looked good, Ámbar noticed. He was wearing a black suit with a blue shirt underneath the open jacket, no tie, and black leather ankle boots. He also smelled nice— Was it cologne? “But I wanted tonight to be just the two of us,” he continued. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Ámbar smiled. “Not at all, it sounds perfect.”

Simón returned her smile and brought her hand to his lips to drop a short kiss on the back of it. Ámbar’s heart gave a little skip at the gesture, and even though he let go immediately to start the car and get them on the road, the warmth of his kiss remained on her hand.

Always so full of surprises.  

“So,” she said after her seatbelt was secured and the ride had started, “where are you taking me?”

“Well, hopefully somewhere you find nice,” Simón said with a mix of nerves and optimism. “Unfortunately, I doubt I can take you anywhere you haven’t been to before, but I learned of this place from a friend and I’ve been there a few times and I think the food is very good. There’s a wide variety of dishes so you should be able to pick something you like. Plus, they have private booths and I reserved one for us, so, you shouldn’t have to worry about anyone taking your picture.”

Her heart melted at all his consideration. “You talk as if it was only a concern for me— Anyone could want your picture too, mister Best New Artist award winner.”

Simón laughed with a little breathless quality of awe. “I still can’t believe that happened.”

“You deserve it,” she told him truthfully. “You and the guys. Your band is amazing, and I’m sure there will be many more awards for you three from now on.”

Simón’s smile widened, and while he couldn’t take his eyes off the road, his right hand reached for hers, and Ámbar had no problem with taking it.

“Thank you,” he said wholeheartedly, squeezing her palm.

“Don’t mention it,” Ámbar squeezed back. She considered letting go but gathered there was no rush. He would have to eventually whenever he needed to change gears— in the meantime, what harm did it make to hold his hand? “And about the restaurant, I’m sure I’ll like whichever place you picked.”

“Well, if you don’t, we can always walk out and go to the nearest McDonalds.”

Ámbar laughed. “Now that would turn some heads.”

They kept light conversation for the rest of the ride. About thirty minutes later, Simón brought the car to a parking lot and announced they’d reached their destination. Ámbar looked out through the window and the view of a grand, nice-looking restaurant met her eyes.  

Simón got out before her and hurried over to her side to open the car door for her. Again she wasn’t expecting it, and while it was really unnecessary, it made her smile, so she said thank you. Was he also the kind to pull her chair back for her? They’d be sitting in a booth, so she wouldn’t get to find out.

Something tells me he is though.    

It was a little too much for this day and age, but if he wanted to give his absolute best on their first date, Ámbar wasn’t about to complain about it.

“Well,” she said as they walked to the entrance, “I’ve actually never been here before.”

“Really?” Simón said all excited. It was so cute to see him so happy about something like that. “Awesome! That means we get to make memories here for just the two of us.”

“Didn’t you say you’ve been here before?”

“Well, yeah, but with the guys, not with a— date.”

The falter had been very short but not enough for Ámbar not to notice it. Suspicious, she looked at Simón out of the corner of her eye and found him looking straight ahead, a clear embarrassed tint on his face. Did he almost say ‘girlfriend’? Ámbar thought with amusement. Oh well, it was only a slip of the tongue, she could let it slide.

Besides… who knows? Maybe this will go well.

“Mm…” She hummed in lieu of an answer, choosing not to make a comment to not embarrass him further.

They met the lady at the front door who led them to their reserved booth. Ámbar looked around a little as they followed. The inside of the restaurant looked sophisticated but not pompously luxurious or anything of the sort. It was well illuminated, with white walls, dark brown furniture, and décor in earthy tones with some accents in red and orange. Aside from the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, it was almost like a family restaurant, with all of the coziness and none of the grease and chaos. The other patrons also looked elegant and formal but nothing that screamed money— it certainly had a more relaxed atmosphere than other places Ámbar had been to.

The booths were at the very back, and just as Simón had said, they gave a more private feeling than the rest of the tables. They were also roomy, with comfortable leather seats and some flowers decorating the clothed table.

The woman handed them two menus as they took a seat across from each other and told them a waiter would be with them shortly. Ámbar placed her purse next to her on the booth while Simón took off his suit jacket. He didn’t seem to know what to do with it when there wasn’t a chair to hang it on, so he just folded it in half and draped it over the top of the booth, trying to get it to stay in place and not slide down to the seat. Cute.

“Anything you recommend?” Ámbar asked as she opened the menu.

“Uh,” Simón looked at the menu, “I really like the meat here if you wanna try it. But anything should be good. And you can customize it if you want.”

Ámbar hummed as she started to scan over the options. “Meat sounds good. Let’s see.”

A few minutes later, they both placed their orders and then handed the menus back to their waiter. Simón was right, there was a wide variety of dishes to choose from, so now Ámbar wasn’t only looking forward to the company but also the food.  

Their waiter told them he’d be right back with their drinks and then walked away, leaving them alone. Ámbar met Simón’s gaze across the table. In some way, even though it had already started, this felt like the date had really begun.  

“You look beautiful,” was the first thing he said. “I didn’t tell you before, sorry. I mean, I thought it, but I didn’t say it. And there were other times I thought it and I didn’t say it, but, well, I mean, I wasn’t about to just say it every time I thought it, it would’ve been too much, probably, but this time I am telling you because… you look very beautiful.”

Aww, he’s nervous.

Ámbar put on her best smile of modesty. “Well, thank you. For this one and all the times you didn’t say it.” He let out a laugh. “You look very handsome too.”

It wasn’t just out of politeness that she said it. That blue shirt fit him like a glove, accentuating the muscles of his chest and arms, especially with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as they were. It gave her a nice view of his forearms, and the few open buttons at the neck gave her a peek of his collarbone. She might have stared a little at how his pants fit his thighs too back in the car.

His face was nothing short of a delight either.

“Thank you,” Simón replied to her compliment, apparently too nervous still to notice the way she was ogling him. “I’m still not very used to wearing suits,” he admitted with a little self-conscious smile. “Before we started getting invited to events, the only times I had worn a suit were for my cousin’s wedding and a couple of funerals when I was little, so, safe to say, I had to buy new ones.”

Ámbar leaned forward a little and rested her chin on her knuckles. “I think you should wear them more often,” she purred, looking straight into his brown eyes. “You look very good.”

Sensing the shift in the air, Simón’s face went from lighthearted amusement to a deep, heated contemplation.

“Well…” A smirk curled his lips as he placed his forearms on the table, leaning forward too. “If you say that, Ámbar, I might not wear anything but suits for the rest of my life.”

Light laughter rolled out of both of them, and with it went the nerves and the tension. They continued talking throughout the night— about their childhood, their careers, their dreams; their food tastes, music tastes, movie tastes. It flowed, the way wind rustles the leaves on a tree or passes through an open window, filling the room with new fresh air. They joked. Ámbar laughed, more than she remembered doing on previous dates. She was especially happy that he seemed to like her ironic humor and often responded in kind. It was nice.

They talked even long after they had finished eating. They stayed nursing the last of the Carménère they’d ordered until they had sipped all of it away, and then talked some more still. Maybe it was just Ámbar’s impression, but she thought they were both drinking deliberately slowly.

Eventually, Simón asked for the check— they couldn’t stay there all night after all. The waiter left the leather-bound bill between them and then walked to another table that was calling him over. 

Simón grabbed the check and was pulling out his credit card when Ámbar stopped him.

“No, wait, I’ll pay,” she said, one hand raised, the other reaching for her purse.

Simón wrinkled his brows and laughed. “Ámbar, I invited you, it’s my treat,” he said like it was obvious.

“We can split then if you want,” she proposed, because the idea that he had to pay for everything only because he invited her didn’t seem fair to her. She agreed to come after all.

“It’s okay, Ámbar, don’t worry about it,” Simón declined kindly. “It’s not like I’m short on money,” he pointed out, a little uncomfortably because he still wasn’t used to that fact, but it was true.   

Ámbar placed her hand on his forearm. “I believe you, I respect it, you deserve it— But I insist that you let me split the bill,” she said.

“And I insist that you let me pay for our date.”

They looked at each other for a moment.

Ámbar leaned back in her seat. “It seems we have come to an impasse.”

“It seems so,” Simón agreed. “…Rock, paper, scissors?” He proposed after a moment.

Ámbar thought about it.

“You know what? You’re on.”

The two leaned forward in their seats and brought their hands forward.

“Okay, here we go,” Simón said.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

Simón’s paper defeated Ámbar’s rock.

“You’re kidding me,” she complained.

“Back luck it seems,” Simón said.

“Two out of three,” Ámbar challenged, because apparently, her competitiveness encompassed even stupid things like this.

“Okay,” Simón agreed, and they played again.

This time, Ámbar’s rock defeated Simón’s scissors.

“Ha!”

“Don’t claim victory yet, you still need one more,” Simón reminded her.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

Simón threw rock.

Ámbar threw scissors.

“Noooo.” She hid her face in her hands.

“Welp,” Simón reached for the check, “you were a worthy opponent but victory smiles at me this time.”

“Next time I’ll defeat you.”

Simón, who’d been in the middle of calling over the waiter to take his card, paused at that.

He looked at her. “Oh, so, there will be a next time?”

Ámbar’s heart jumped. Shit, she fell right into that one without thinking.

She contemplated for a moment how to respond. How honest should she be? What was safe? What did she want?

In the end, she decided to trust her own feelings, and the glow in Simón’s eyes that looked so much like hope.

“Certainly,” she answered, keeping an air of her previous playful competitiveness. “I can’t leave things like this; my honor is at stake.” She spun one of her rings around her finger. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

Just seeing the way Simón’s face lighted up put all her worries to rest.

His lips curled into the smile she was starting to adore, and the warmth in his gaze as he looked at her was something she wasn’t sure she had ever seen outside of a performance. Had any actor ever looked at her like that? Was this what Simón saw when he told her her scenes were incredibly believable? Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. This was way better than any of that, because it was real.

“Ámbar, nothing would make me happier.”

--------------------

Ámbar adored Simón’s music room. It was the brightest room in his apartment, with tons of natural light coming in through the floor-to-ceiling window throughout the day, and a nice view of the trees and birds outside. It was comfortable and quiet, secluded but in a cozy way, not a lonely way.

In the last three months, Ámbar had lost count of the number of days she had accompanied Simón here while he worked on something on the vertical piano or his guitar. She didn’t even know he could play the piano before she started dating him. Now the view of his back as his fingers danced around the keys was a familiar one, and one she held dear. It felt special for Ámbar to be part of something magical from the very beginning of its creation. She loved to watch him play around with chords on the guitar until his concentrated frown turned into an enthusiastic smile— that was how she knew he had finally gotten the sound he wanted. He tried to teach her too the first time she was here. He showed him how to do some chords on the guitar, moving her fingers here and there, and it was fun, she had never done something like that before, but she had to stop pretty soon because her fingertips ached and started to look purple. She gained a new appreciation for the calluses in his hands since then.

This room had become one of Ámbar’s favorite places to study her lines, only short of her own house, and only because she had to admit she sometimes got distracted if she was with Simón. (Not that she didn’t like those distractions, of course.)

That afternoon, she was sitting on the green beanbag in front of the piano, the mic stand, and the guitar stand, going through the script of the new movie she had booked while Simón was lying on the black couch next to the window, quietly surfing through his phone. Her feet were bare as she enjoyed the feel of the soft cream-colored carpet under them, and the only sound in the room was the occasional turning of a page as Ámbar read on.

Simón broke the comfortable silence.

“Would it bother you if I wrote a song about you?”

Ámbar immediately turned her head to the right to look at him. Her heart melted like ice cream in the summer heat. “You’re writing a song about me?”

Simón’s gaze momentarily averted while his hands fidgeted with his phone. “I might have started several during the last three months,” he admitted. Wow.

Ámbar flashed back to the melodies she had seen him compose during the last few months. Had any of them been about her? Simón had always been a little reluctant to sing any lyrics to her, claiming he wanted to wait until they were done.

Ámbar left her script on the carpet. “Would you really trash all that work if I told you I didn’t feel comfortable with it?” They took time and dedication after all.  

Simón ran a hand through his hair. Ámbar now knew that it turned a little curly when it grew longer. She loved to run her fingers through it. Simón had also told her he liked it when she did that, so Ámbar always followed the impulse to her heart’s content.

“Well…” He started. “I would try to explain to you how it comes natural to me and other musicians to draw from my personal experiences to create music. They tend to inspire my best works, actually. I don’t think I could just… not do it at all. It would be like trying to turn my brain off. But if you told me you didn’t like it, I would try to keep it subtle. I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

A smile upturned Ámbar’s lips. She crawled over to her considerate boyfriend and leaned in to kiss him softly. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. You can write whatever you want as long as it’s not too private.”

“What would be too private for you?” He asked.

With the ease of habit, Ámbar got up and sat on top of Simón, straddling him. She made sure to keep his gaze as she rolled her hips, pointingly grinding against his bulge.   

A moan jumped out of Simón’s mouth and his hands flew instinctively to her hips.

“Oh,” he said eloquently. “I would never,” he assured her.

Ámbar smiled. “Then it’s okay.”

She brought her mouth down to kiss him again, lingering this time, and she heard the thud of Simón’s phone falling on the carpet as he brought his hands around her, returning the affection of her lips.

It turned heavy quite fast, as it tended to do with them whenever they were alone. Ámbar had been told that musicians were passionate people and she had come to learn, repeatedly, that it was true. It fit right in with her— if he was fire, she was the wind ready to fan the flames at any given time. She loved to feel his hands on her bare skin, those talented hands that created art and always made her feel wanted, adored, cherished. Her body had always been an instrument— it was her work tool, something she had to keep shiny and polished to get jobs, something she used to bring to life someone else, something she put out there as a service to the community and to the arts, something that, sometimes, didn’t feel her own. When Simón was with her, she felt like a person. Like she wasn’t important because of her body but her body was important because it was hers.

With both their shirts off, Simón sat up on the couch, bringing Ámbar to his lap, pulling her close so their chests were pressed together. He rolled his hips up, making her moan against his lips. She kept the movement going, needing to feel him, wanting to be as close to him as possible with no layers in between. Simón broke the kiss with a groan and leaned their foreheads together, the two of them breathing hard as they swayed in unison.

He leaned to kiss her ear. “I could write a hundred songs about how good it feels to be inside you.” Ámbar moaned. “How well you take me, how beautiful you look when you’re in bliss.” He dropped kisses down her neck. “But that would make other people imagine it, and I would rather die than have someone else see you like this, even in their imagination.” Gently, he laid her down and settled on top of her, cupping her face and stroking it with his thumb. “The whole world may see your acting, but this Ámbar is mine.”

Ámbar welcomed his lips as they came upon hers and gave back as much love as Simón poured into her. She wrapped him in her arms and hugged him with her legs. She cradled him against her soul and wished for him to never leave.

Yes, she was his. He was hers. This beautiful, marvelous, and painstakingly real thing was their own, and Ámbar, who so many times had wished she was someone else, who had dedicated her whole life to becoming someone else, for the first time felt like she, just herself, just being Ámbar, was enough.

She was loved just as she was and that was more than enough.

…

..

.

This is the golden age of something good, and right, and real…

-----------------------

Oh my god, I hadn’t posted any oneshots since February!!! I can’t believe how fast this year passed by. I hope you liked this story!! I can’t believe this idea jumped me one day and I wasn’t able to put it down until I finished it— I guess I was really inspired! It took me exactly 20 days but here it is, I love it <3

I have some other oneshots lying around that I would love to finish soon; I’ll see you when I do. Until then, have yourselves a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year <3

[mesaylormoon]

Howl's Moving Castle: 20 Years Later

Howl's Moving Castle is Hayao Miyazaki's adaptation of the novel by the same name. I have always been curious to read the book, but have just never bothered... Regardless, this is a cinematic outing more than worthy of being judged on its own merits. It is perhaps one of Studio Ghibli's most popular and visually stunning movies, and I have only ever seen one review in which the critic in question was not a big fan of the film. (If you are a subscriber of the Nostalgia Critic's, you may know who I'm referencing). In fact, I make it a point to address his thoughts on the movie, as I (unfortunately) agree with some of his observations. If it's any consolation, I would like to balance out my own review with an acknowledgement of some of the qualities that make Howl's Moving Castle a beloved piece of pop culture.

Pros:

Emily Mortimer, Christian Bale, Billy Crystal, Josh Hutcherson -- honestly, the entire cast -- submit fantastic performances in the English dub. In fact, Howl's Moving Castle may be the only Studio Ghibli picture where I prefer the dub version over the sub

This is Hayao Miyazaki's most exquisite feature to date. Literally every frame of the film offers the audience meticulously animated footage that makes this movie one of Studio Ghibli's most recognizable and celebrated releases

The romance between Howl and Sophie is absolutely precious

The chemistry between all the characters in this movie is unbelievable. Despite being figments of fiction, the performances and relationship-building between the cast are so strong it feels as if everyone on screen is a true family

The main theme of this movie is definitely one of Studio Ghibli's most iconic. I will never not think of my mom and aunt when I hear it

Hot take: I personally like Howl's Moving Castle more than some of Studio Ghibli's most popular movies (especially Spirited Away)

The closing song is absolutely beautiful

Howl is unreasonably handsome considering he is a literal drawing, and the design of his castle is creepy and creative

Cons:

Character motivations are often unclear. Even Sophie's desire to return to her youth is a plot element that doesn't serve as a driving force in the story

Most Studio Ghibli movies feature relatable protagonists whose conflicts keep the narrative focused. This is not the case in Howl's Moving Castle. Sophie is a very likable protagonist with a well-defined personality, but she is mostly depicted as a passive player in her own movie and her actions do not help the plot progress

It's clear that the visuals in this film motivate the ideas, rather than the ideas motivating the visuals. This creates a sort of stagnant viewing experience and makes it difficult to appreciate the movie as a flowing narrative

Verdict: Like Barbie, the flaws in Howl's Moving Castle are notable enough to affect the quality of the film. But in my opinion, this picture is so remarkable in every regard that I can overlook its shortcomings and appreciate the wonder it provides its fanbase. There are so many reasons this movie has left a strong impression in the anime community and, hopefully, I was able to articulate all of them in this review.

[agentnico]

The Beanie Bubble (2023) Review

The most fascinating aspect of The Beanie Bubble is that it offers us a Zach Galifianakis without any facial hair. Not even a stache. And my my is it a sight to behold. It doesn’t look right though. No not at all, no. Go grow back your hair, dude. Please.

Plot: The unbelievable tale of one of America's most fascinating phenomena -- Beanie Babies. Flashing back to the '90s and early 2000s, an in-depth look at how the era-defining zeitgeist came to be.

The Beanie Bubble follows the new Hollywood trend of movies based on behind-the-scenes of pop culture phenomenon, with the other notable entries this year so far being Tetris, Flamin’ Hot, BlackBerry and Air. And look, Tetris is one of my favourite films this year, and Air manages to surprisingly be an engaging and interesting watch even though at the end of the day its a movie about a shoe. So naturally I gave The Beanie Bubble a go, especially since Ted Lasso is now over and I must still justify my Apple TV+ subscription. And though I’ve never owned any Beanie Babies myself, neither have I ever worn Nike Air Jordans, so there you have it. Going in with an open mind...

There is a line of irony present throughout The Beanie Bubble, as it states right from the beginning that the whole point of this movie is that the billionaire entrepreneur behind Ty Toys was not the "brains" behind anything. Instead those brains belonged to three women, those being the uncredited co-founder of the Ty company Robbie; the Chief Operating Officer Maya who, pardon the pun, was operating on a minimum receptionist wage; and Ty’s wife Sheila, who with her daughters were responsible for the designs of the various stuffed toys. The irony henceforth is that even though the message of the film clearly tries to push Ty out of the picture, nonetheless Ty is primarily the main character of this movie and is very evidently involved with all the development and business side of the Beanie Babies toys. Furthermore the most showy and memorable performance in this film is Zack Galifianakis who absolutely chews up the role, and he plays Ty himself, and as such naturally is outshining everyone else around him. So even though the movie is about pushing forward the female brains behind it all, at the same time you walk out of the movie remembering Ty himself, no matter how much of an a-hole he was. Additionally, there is a moral question behind the movie also, as even though the intention of the film is to show-it-to-the-big-man, the film overall still comes off as a vapid cheerleader for late-stage capitalism. 

I feel like The Beanie Bubble would have benefited from going a bit darker, as even though institutional sexism is referred to, overall this is a very fluffy and light experience, and as such the impact is minimal. It’s as if the movie can’t bear (thank you) to simply show the creepy side to these cute plush toys; it emphasises how relatable they are to absolutely any kid - and I’m just there like “where’s the conflict?”. It’s really bland stuff. I also found the non-linear storytelling frustrating in this one, as directors Gore and Kulash hop back and forth between the 1980s (when Ty was dating Robbie) and 1990s (when he was dating Sheila)... back and forth, back and forth. Its annoying and non-sensical, limiting any sort of natural narrative momentum building up, and that when Robbie and Sheila do finally meet, the result is very anti-climactic.

This is a very basic and safe look at the behind the scenes of one of the first internet frenzies, and even though its an easy watch that belongs perfectly on streaming, you won’t remember much of it after the credits roll. After seeing Oppenheimer I was scouring the internet to find out more about what happened to that man and the various rumours of him being a Russian spy. I was truly fascinated with that story - I wanted to learn more. After seeing The Beanie Bubble I simply clicked on the TV remote and moved on with whatever other easily digestible streaming content there was available.

Overall score: 4/10

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Just the Best 2/2001 2001 Pop / Euro-House / Trance / R&B / Pop-Rock / Europop / Pop-Punk / Dance-Pop / Hip Hop

God, do I really love going through these Now That's What I Call Music!-type comps from Europe. Late 90s/early 2000s releases like these always make for such fun, eclectic trips down memory lane, but from the perspective of a different region of the world. Our top 40 charts in America share a lot in common with other places, and that leads to a nice nostalgia rush for everyone involved, but there's also a lot of music we don't share in common at all. So the goal when listening to these ephemeral things is to get some of that good nostalgia, discover a few sweet tracks that you weren’t previously familiar with, and then hopefully find something so patently absurd and terrible that you really can't help but just smile at how ridiculous it is. And fortunately, I was able to tick all three of those boxes with this 28th dispatch from Germany's Just the Best series.

So let's start with all of this goofy and gaudy, brain-melting Eurotrash madness first, because that happens to arrive immediately on this double-disc in the form of an unbelievably awful and BIG nu-rap-metal cover of, yep, you guessed it, "Kumbaya," by Mittermeier vs. Guano Babes. But get this, y'all (as I pull up a chair and proceed to sit in it backwards): they didn't actually end up calling their version of the song "Kumbaya;" they called it "Kumba Yo!" instead, which should really give you an idea of just how cool this song actually is 😎. I mean, they even loaded it up with turntable scratches and there's a quieter beatboxed portion too! It really is such a dynamic work!

But we're really only just getting started here, folks, because later on in this first disc is also an utterly mindless Italian Eurohouse groove by a group called The Pizza Boys, who deliver their debut hit, "Oh Le Le," with verses about pizza pie that sound like they're being sung by a robot! And, honestly, does it really get more Italian than that?

Tomato, mozzarella Pizza bella, pizza bella Salami, margherita Pizza pazza, dolce vita!

And then there's this group of Danish teenage girls called Little Trees, who end up supplying a piece of manufactured, cotton-candied Europop fluff in...wait for it..."Help I'm a Fish," which apparently served as the title track for a 2001 animated box office bomb by the same name (also called A Fish Tale, which is *not* to be confused with the much more successful 3D-animated 2004 film, Shark Tale), and also somehow managed to fall just outside of the top ten on the UK's Singles chart as well. I've pretty clearly never seen this song's corresponding movie before, but this definitely feels like one of those soundtrack tunes that—just like how cheesy rap songs used to do it in the credit rolls for family-oriented blockbusters in the 80s and 90s—explains the plot of the movie through its very own lyrics. So I think this flick's about the wacky adventures of a kid who gets turned into a fish after ingesting a magic potion. But thankfully, the ending isn't spoiled through the song, so you'll just have to watch it for yourself in order to find out if the kid ultimately chooses in the end to go back to being a human, or if they decide to remain a fish. It's all so suspenseful, I know, but guess what else? The English-language version of the movie also happens to star not only a then-completely-unknown Aaron Paul, but also...Alan Rickman?!?

Alright, enough of this lunacy. Next section.

Let's get to the nostalgia portion of this post, which actually won't be very long, because I think there's only three songs across these two discs that actually turned out to be hits in the States: one-hit wonder Wheatus' radio-friendly nerdy Hot Topic anthem, "Teenage Dirtbag" (currently stuck in my head), which features frontman Brendan B. Brown singing every vocal part, including the falsetto of the female character that he himself is smitten with; the Britney Spears ballad, "Don't Let Me Be the Last to Know," which was co-written by Shania Twain and didn't actually chart in the States because it was never released as a single here and only aired on the radio; and then brief R&B star Joe's "Stutter," which, much to my surprise, actually managed to top Billboard's Hot 100 chart for four whole weeks back in 2001?! 😯 An okay slate overall, I guess, but usually when it comes to Euro comps like these, somewhere between about a quarter and a third of their selections are songs that were popular in the US. So, on the early 2000s US nostalgia front, this release seems to be a bit of an anomaly.

And now, to finish with something else that also came as a bit of a surprise: some pretty decent dance tunes. Most of the time, these comps might come with one or two good dance tracks, and then the rest will be these disposable hunks of plastic junk that feel inexplicable as to how people ever unironically enjoyed them in the first place. And, to be clear, there's still a bunch of those types of tunes that are on here (see Gigi D'Agostino's monotonously stupid "Super (Riscaldamento)," featuring Albertino, for example). But there's also a good amount of tracks on this release that, I think, feel both pretty fun and well-made too. Stuffy trance snobs may still bristle at the songs that I'm going to list as highlights here anyway, but I really enjoyed the tribal drum-infused "Played A-Live (The Bongo Song)," by Safri Duo, as well as Airheadz' "Stanley (Here I Am)," which strangely goes on these brief trip hop detours that smack of Dido's "Thank You." Plus, there's a *really* good vocal house tune from French group Superfunk too called "Last Dance (And I Come Over)" that feels kinda perfect for a pool party.

So, another long and strange turn-of-the-millennium trip through the nutty German mainstream is in the books here. Didn't really end up getting the nostalgia rush that I thought I was gonna get, but the unexpected dose of good dance tunes made up for that anyway. And that small handful of extremely tacky and beyond-the-pale Eurotrash could also definitely come in handy for the next time I end up reaching a plastered state of delirium as well 🥴😅.

Highlights:

CD1:

Wheatus - "Teenage Dirtbag" CD2:

Safri Duo - "Played-A-Live (The Bongo Song)" Airheadz - "Stanley (Here I Am)" Rui da Silva feat. Cassandra - "Touch Me" Superfunk feat. Everis Pellius - "Last Dance (And I Come Over)" RMB - "Deep Down Below" Svenson & Gielen - "The Beauty of Silence"

Lowlights:

CD1:

Mittermeier vs. Guano Babes - "Kumba Yo!" Little Trees - "Help I'm a Fish" Pizza Boys - "Oh Le Le" Glow - "President of Boarderland"

[plesstandby]

holy sht Whiplash 5🌟

and it was directed by the same director of La La Land?? that makes sense. sorry help- I am legitimately struggling to form my words, so excuse me as I'm just using whatever reason and logical conclusion I can gather to cover up my utterly impressed backside because WHAT DID I JUST- NO WAY THEY WERE ABLE TO CAPTURE THAT

dear God. that was mindblowing. the film clearly depicted the self-destructing path towards attaining perfection. Visuals of the overflowing blood on Andrew Nielman's hands; veins popping from taut skin as Terrence Fletchley unleases another onslaught of swears; the sweaty and degenerative state of the drummers as they are being pushed to their limit; the slow melt of passion into all-consuming rage. that movie set a fire to my soul that I do not think I can extinguish. It is insane and unbelievable to me that such a movie exists.

ever since the "his eyes softened" trend, I could not stop noticing the delicate sensitivity and nuanced expressions of actors in films. It is almost as if I had been granted lenses to see the world more tenderly. The brief and very real flickers in their eyes evoking a humanity that can not else be replicated in a snap of a finger. The art of subtle acting, they call it. And oh how I am so in love with the intimacy of those last few scenes when Andrew and Terrence locked eyes, their gazes fiery with condemnation. they were unflinching as they dared each other in their silent duel to be better, to be one of the greats. it takes my breath away. there are layers upon layers of meaning in this movie, and if you strip away the extremisms and the nuances from the acting, there laid in all its glory is the stock of it -- this enthralling story that has been intuitively planned out. And it must be because as I have read in here that the director, Damien Chazelle, had gone into painstakingly detailing how each of the shots were going to go and he did that by hand-drawing 150 storyboards while chasing after deadlines. He was able to effectively story tell what I personally think is a very demanding and usually misrepresented narrative of a gifted loner whose fire for drumming gradually scorches him alive. I love how personal the director took the story. Like this is genuine storytelling. The uneventful and awkward blips transmitting echoes from a bigger story that is muddied with the strong and emerging characters from another plane of reality. This movie never fails to entrap the notion that there are multiple stories going on. By using the silence of the protagonist, they pull the audience into this disorienting sweet spot of being in your head while your body exists detachedly in an outside place in the world. This zoning out brought by the protagonist's want to be someplace else other than here was never pointed out in the story, but I felt that it was in these sceneswas the soft, vulnerable and hurt side to Nielman revealed. And it was that side of him that drew me closer and made me feel sympathetic for him. When he struggles to form conversation topics because his whole world is drumming and music so he hides behind a jaded and uncaring pretense to appear cool and still fitting societal norms. In that sense, I identify some parts of myself as like him because I more or less do the same thing. I zone out a concerning amount because I find myself wanting to work on my personal projects rather than, well, learn about polynomials? Then there is also my ambition and the self-sacrifices I make on my health to feed my creative obsessions, to reach my high expectations. All my free time and efforts I pour into my personal endeavors and whenever people don't cast as much as a glance on my ideas, my plans or even as me as a person, there is this burgeoning volatility that runs hot beneath my skin, waiting to burst. This I suppose is why I like listening to Eminem's alter-ego "Slim Shady" (I was just enjoying his Marshall Mathers EP earlier this morning). Whenever he lets his mouth run, a river of coarseness and horridness flows out and circles round my ears in a way that makes my heart flutter. I am so happy when people are themselves. And fury is an emotion that I do not emit often, but I'd imagine that if I cared less, womanly rage (with all its might and power) would radiate from each and every spur of my alighting body. I yearn for that full release. For rage to take over my body so that I may feel fluid with my punches and shouts. Anything for my anger and repugnance for all of everything that deserves it to be felt like a universal shockwave. And whenever masterpieces like this gets produced and especially when rage and ugly desperation are the main emotions-- I feel it. the universal shockwave

Then, the fact that this is also a bit autobiographical as the author has identified himself as a jazz drum prodigy in a similarly competitive environment (Princeton High School Band). so he knows firsthand how it felt like. and I find it so beautiful how Chazelle seamlessly makes the transition of his personal experiences and incorporates it into the movie, making it realer and more fleshed-out. It is a success on all levels. This movie has inspired me to make fanart or perhaps a fanfic of it... someday. It is that cool.

[whatsonmedia]

Updates: 4 Most Anticipated TV Shows of 2023

TV releases are difficult to anticipate because, unlike films, where release dates can be set years in advance, streamers and networks frequently wait until just before the drop to secure their positions. Having said that, a number of new titles and sequel seasons are officially verified. Here is our updated list of the most expected releases for 2023, with some room for well-informed speculation. The Mandalorian Season 3, Disney+ (March 1) The Mandalorian's heartbreaking Season 2 conclusion seems like a lifetime ago. Although The Book of Boba Fett thankfully brought the family of two back together, it's high time the show returns for Season 3. The third season of The Mandalorian, which premieres on March 1, will transport viewers to Mandalore as Bo-Katan (Katee Sackhoff), who thinks she is the legitimate heir to the weapon and the throne, grapples with what it means to wield the Darksaber. It appears from the previews that Din will run into more Mandalorians than ever before. which will either help or hinder his quest to realize that there is more to life beyond what the Death Watch extremists taught him. Given that Pascal was occupied in Canada while The Mandalorian was shooting due to his The Last of Us filming schedule. It is difficult to predict whether Season 3 will include more helmet-free Din. Regardless, Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder's performances are always enjoyable to watch. Especially when they are combined with Pascal's dulcet Mandalorian voice. True Lies: Season 1, CBS (March 1) Based on the 1994 James Cameron film, which was a remake of the French film La Totale!. A spy's wife unwittingly becomes engaged in his covert activity. In reimagined versions of the roles played by Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis in the film, Steve Howey portrays the spy and Ginger Gonzaga, his wife. TV can't handle action the scale of an Arnold movie, so it will probably focus more on comedy. The depiction of how a housewife can become a secret operative in a television program in 2023 ought to hopefully be a little more feminized. Daisy Jones and the Six, Prime Video (March 3) Daisy Jones and the Six, Which is based on the New York Times best-selling book of the same name. It tells the tale of the legendary band from the 1970s. That was led by the charismatic but feuding lead vocalists Daisy Jones and Billy Dunne. Their complex musical collaboration propelled the band from obscurity to unbelievable renown. They were drawn together by personal and creative chemistry. Then, following a sold-out performance at Soldier Field in Chicago, they abruptly called it quits. After all these years, the band members now consent to tell the truth. This is the tale of how a legendary band broke up at the height of its strength, set to an original Daisy Jones and the Six soundtracks. The novel is classic. However the TV show which had anticipated TV list for so long that some critics and fans find it hard to believe there is actually an official premier date. Due to COVID shutdowns the scheduling of the TV series was delayed. This TV series is the ideal blend of nostalgia and life lesson. The Company You Keep: Season 1, ABC (February 19) The drama stars former This Is Us hot dad Milo Ventimiglia as a con artist from a family of artists who pines for an undercover CIA officer. It is based on the South Korean television series My Fellow Citizens! (Played by Boyfriends of Christmas Past actress Catherine Haena Kim). The cast also includes Sarah Wayne Callies, Tim Chiou, James Saito, and Freda Foh Shen. Observes con artist Charlie and CIA agent Emma covertly. The two fall in love after a night of passion, despite the fact that their work paths are unintentionally converging. Charlie intensifies the "family business" so he can leave permanently, but Emma is closing in on the vengeful criminal holding Charlie's family debts in custody, compelling them to face the lies they have told in order to protect their families from dire repercussions.     Read the full article

[jessaerys]

things this movie has that designed in a lab to make me bananas:

absolutely ball to the walls maximalist concept

more interesting gender, sexuality and race politics than 99.9% of everything made post 2010 that is actively trying to explore the aforementioned subjects

modern vampires

self awareness of the inherent camp of the concept of modern vampires

reverse police brutality (acab)

utterly nonsensical cryptobiology

crusty chrome cyberpunk aesthetics that are reminiscent of the works of HG gieger

fucked up freudian foucaultian deleuzian postmodernist

metaphors for penetration that are reminiscent of the works of HG gieger

shamelessly titillating incest bait

the best bloodsucking-as-sex scene in the history of film and television

the best bloodsucking-as-breastfeeding freudian scene in the history of film and television

unbelievably hot people in y2k sleek avant-garde neo-goth fashion

the worst ancient vampire/modern vampire bitter exes subtext you have ever had the delight to watch

did i mention the metaphors for penetration

shamelessly titillating queer-coded villian

extremely dubious but interesting 90s aids epidemic politics

elder god worshipping cult

the fucking. post-modern neo-nightmare seedy cocaine chic architecture and interior design

forced human sacrifice. well vampire sacrifice but its vampire on vampire violence so i imagine the same taboos apply

cronenbergian body horror

what happens when western directors do a legit good job of bringing the aesthetics of anime into live action

action hero so autistic there is a scene where he is sitting alone in his room staring at the wall in the blue half-dark

heterosexual rights!

im really really really high and we just watched blade (1998) i think my life has been changed forever not clickbait real footage

[toraashi]

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

pairing: xiao x gn!reader

summary: past the eternal suffering and karmic debt, what does xiao truly wish for?

info/warnings: emo, good ending, 2.7 event spoilers (this literally follows the ending plotline), much introspection, hot garbage but i couldn’t stop myself, mentions of death, no other warnings

“I live and breathe you, i keep your love close to my chest, cradling it like a child for that is what it is, right? A fledgling bird in need of nurture and love. Your vulnerability is safe in my hands. If I can promise you anything, it’s that.”

Your words flicker through Xiao’s head in his film reel of memories as the decision become final.

With a conclusive burst of emerald light (pure, unmarred by darkness), he casts you one last glance. A weighted one, vested with all the things he wishes he could tell you, and your face contorts painfully as you shimmer and vanish, the call of his name stolen from your lips. 

It’s with that, the platform collapses, and gravity asserts its control over Xiao, the light so hopefully close now constricting, a mirror image of his pupils as the darkness swaths him. 

The finality of eternity weighs heavy on his conscious, yet the inevitability of death is something he falls upon like a pillow. It’s the only thing he’s known, and now, he will succumb to the fate destined for him since the beginning.

When his eyes flutter closed, he thinks of you. The beauty of mortality, the beauty of you, that you showed him so carelessly. Mortality is clumsy, but as the wind roars in his ears (maybe it’s his thumping pulse?), he thinks he likes how it looks on you. 

His last will and testament, his final wish was to give you the opportunity to embrace that. He thinks he would’ve enjoyed spending another few moments with you, though.

The light dims, and in the darkness he thinks he sees your face. The glimmer in your eyes when he fixes a golden crystalfly to your hair, the way you catch his wrist and press a kiss to his knuckles. Sometimes he wishes he chose to bask in your careless affection. Perhaps Xiao has more wishes than he thought.

The glow of freedom recedes, and then dilates, and in a flurry of light, Xiao’s true last will and testament is fulfilled, and he is on solid ground, the sun warm on his weary body. He cracks his eyes open hesitantly (unbelieving) and is instantly greeted by the sight of you rushing towards him. 

“Xiao,” You choke on a sob, your hands hovering, eyes watery, and Xiao’s gaze soften. The feeling of solid ground beneath his feet is much more gratifying than the fluff of a pillow. “Why did you do that? How could you- you scared me, Xiao, I thought you-” 

He cuts you off by grabbing your hand, tugging it towards his face until it cups his cheek, golden eyes open and meeting yours quietly. For once, you fall silent, and he lets his lips twitch into a smile (it’s barely there, but it’s the thought that counts). Sighing, you collapse to the ground, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into his neck, nose and lips brushing across his pulse as it quells to a steady thump. 

The others congregate around as he rests his hands on your shoulders, the only thought in his mind the fact that he gets to spend another moment in your light. Perhaps accepting a different path from the presumed inevitable wasn’t so awful. 

The fear of tainting his loved ones simmers, and a wall crumbles.

[palmtreepalmtree]

Alright charmers, farmers, and idiots. It's a brisk 60 degrees in Los Angeles so don't forget your booties, because it's coooooooold out there. And I'm back with another edition of...

The Worst Movie on Netflix Right Now™

This week's feature was by request of @anasandorpygoscelis. I think. I mean, I'm pretty sure there was a post somewhere. Anyhow, on this marvelous Monday, we're doing...

The Noel Diary. This is a movie starring Justin Hartley (This is Us) and Barrett Doss (Grey's Anatomy) and it's directed by Charles Shyer who is best known for writing and directing some rom-com classics from the late 80s and early 90s like Baby Boom and Father of the Bride.

The film is based on a book by Richard Paul Evans who apparently has a whole series of "Noel" books, so he's really the smartest person involved in this whole production because my bet is this dude is CASHING in on the whole Christmas concept (to the extent that any writer anywhere can cash in on anything, but you know what I mean).

THE PLOT

Alright, so this movie is about a best-selling novelist, Jacob Turner, who returns to his childhood home to handle the affairs of his recently deceased estranged mother when he meets Rachel, who has come to his mom's house in search of her birth mother. ...don't worry, it's revealed early on that her mom was the nanny, so there's no weird Folger's bro/sis thing happening here. But that's the plot.

Anyhow, my favorite part of this fucking movie was how the filmmaker actually used visual storytelling to communicate characters. Like for once we actually get some thoughtful set design - as in woooooooow this is actually trying to show me something other than generic-American-handsome man!

But like, siiiiiiiiiiiigh, nice effort, but did you have to make this dude out like some sort of Esquire magazine wet dream? As the camera pans-and-fades around his Moody Bachelors Anonymous pad, it lingers just long enough to let your eye catch a few key things: books by Bob Dylan and David Sedaris, a bulletin board with handwritten notes and black-and-white travel photos (the Eiffel tower obvs), multiple antique typewriters (an Underwood), an Edgar Allen Poe funko, a record player, and a stack of LPs with the only record showing being Nina Simone. Like... daaaaaaamn. This is the guy I wanted to date when I was twenty and was still trying to be a writer.

And of course his house is this beautifully furnished mid-century, eames-chair-sporting, ready for its Vogue walk-through drool-property. Can I just stop at this point in the movie? Job done. You've sold me. He's hot, rich, and lives in a gorgeous house with real actual art and a cute dog (that's just big enough to not be a small dog but not so big it's cliche). Like... FUCK. OH and then he tunes an actual transistor radio to... you guessed it... the local jazz station. Dating this guy is like dating an OC moodboard on tumblr.com.

This whole scene is only bested by the next set-decorating moment where he returns to his childhood bedroom: Drugstore Cowboy poster (unframed), basketball and football trophy (both???), Larry Bird signed jersey (framed), French New Wave poster (framed????), stack of miscellaneous board games with TRIVIAL PURSUIT GENUS I on top, another antique typewriter, bedside reading featuring On the Road by Jack Kerouac and A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway (like, of course), and another bulletin board with various concert ticket stubs.

Fuck, I need a cigarette.

Honestly, that's it, that's all I want to talk about. An hour and 40 minute movie and I'm done with it 12 minutes in. He's THE MOST INTERESTING MAN IN THE WORLD. This dude is too perfect. No amount of trauma makes this guy suddenly undateable. He's an unbelievable character not because we didn't get enough detail, but because the detail is just too perfect. Jesus, he's walking out of a Restoration Hardware catalogue dragging a brass telescope behind him and asking if you want to look at the stars (I do).

Anyhow, here's the thing about this movie - it's actually pretty well done, but FUCK it's really fucking sad. Unlike most Christmas movies that look like they spent too much time at fucking Hobby Lobby, this movie sort of side-swipes Christmas. Like all this shit is happening, and oh yeah, it's Christmas time. This is good because it avoids the cliches, but it's bad because ISN'T THIS SUPPOSED TO BE A CHRISTMAS MOVIE!?!? WHERE IS SANTA!? You can't have an entire Christmas romance movie and the only comic relief is on the dog. That's too much pressure for a pup!

Anyhow, one of my common gripes about these movies is that by the end of the movie you want to think the couple belongs together. The way this movie tries to sell you on it is essentially two key details: Rachel (the love interest) has a tattoo of Billie Holliday on the inside of her forearm and once Jacob starts playing a jazz classic on the piano (OH YEAH HE PLAYS PIANO TOO) and Rachel immediately starts singing, beautifully, along. Seeeeeeeee? They're fucking perfect for each other.

Rachel is also an interesting character in a too-perfect sort of way (she's a language major who speaks fluent Italian on screen HOTTTTTTTT!). It's still a moodboard it's just got black and white photos of Italy on it instead of France. I bet her childhood bedroom has a framed poster that says ITALIAN NEW WAVE. Annnnnyhow... are they perfect for each other?

Nah, they're still not. This entire movie is a lot of sorting through some fucked up childhood trauma and I think that would bond most people. But do they belong together? Naaaaaaah.

Rachel shows some insane amount of patience for the men in her life in this movie and I don't really want to get into the plot too deeply (even though it's a little fucked) cause it's too fucking sad. Jacob apparently suddenly decides he no longer wants to be a permanent bachelor and he's all in for Rachel and we don't know really why. But like... sure, I GUESS.

If your jam is sad Christmas vibes, then this is the movie for you. These two live sadly ever after.

Last note: Bonnie Bedelia is in this movie and she is as radiant as ever.

Where is her movie? Bonnie Bedelia is the nosy neighbor artist next door and I have never felt so in need of a bi rom-com starring her. LET'S GO, NETFLIX. FUCK THIS SAD SHIT. GIVE ME HOT BONNIE.

Alright, that's all I got.

[untaemedqueen]

Take One (M)

Pornstar!Yoongi x Fan Fiction Writer!Reader

Genre: Strangers To Lovers!AU, Smut, Fluff

WordCount: 24k

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Big Dick!Yoongi, Slight Dom!Yoongi, Degradation (Slut, Cum Slut), Spanking, Sex Against A Wall, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Phone Sex, Edging, Pussy Slapping, Daddy Kink, Hair Pulling, Cock Slapping, Cum Swallowing, Love Making, Marking, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Face Fucking, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive!Yoongi, Forced Orgasm, Doggy Style, Impreg Kink

A/N: Again the biggest shout outs to my crew @ppersonna​​, @ladyartemesia​​, @xjoonchildx​​ who are constantly rooting for this fic to come out. I love my ladies so much!!!!!!!

There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

He has seen so many bodies in his career. So many different women and men that he cared very little for the human form. Now, written word where he could just simply envision a woman of his choosing doing what is described in twelve font Ariel Black ink. That is where he finds his pleasure.

He found himself after a long day on set, looking for mental relief. People make fun of his job, but it's incredibly taxing on one's spirit. He tried for years and years to be not only the best porn star in his field, but the most talked about. He succeeded after not too long, one utterly embarrassing title called 'Little Cat, Bowl of Milk' skyrocketed his success and had people coming back time and time again to his profile on all the major porn sites. He began to realize that success was eating at his bones. He so often found himself not being able to cum as he fucked his co-star half way to Sunday. 

It wasn't about being the greatest anymore, or having the biggest cock in the industry. It was about actually being able to cum without the prop team having to strap a tube on the underside of his cock and pump out this incredibly realistic looking paste that actually looks like jizz. It was practically degrading. And yet, Yoongi only found himself orgasming through reading. 

It was a random happenstance as he was scrolling online. Just looking at a few different blogs on Tumblr before finding a link in their biography stating 'Masterlist'. Finding himself intrigued he clicked on the link, the girl with the pen name Nevermore had countless series of books. She was great at writing, truly understanding her character's complexity and portraying it in such a way that had Yoongi constantly on the edge of his seat. But above all, the sex scenes she wrote were so erotic; so completely entrancing that he began to lose himself in her stories. He had never cum harder than before he read the words she so ardently wrote.

Jumping onto his couch, his feet find their place on the arm as his hand rests beneath his head. "I wonder what's up with Kyla and Bjorn today." He whispers to himself before sipping his beer. Every day of the week waits with bated breath to be Sunday. Nevermore publishes every Sunday at 8 o'clock and Yoongi never misses it. He will even stop a late filming just to read her new chapter. 

Stopping by her blog fills him with a sense of renewal. He first checks her updated page before anything else. She seemed to have an almost poetic soul within her, as if her fingers poured out earnest sentences with cryptic and riddled meaning. It's her latest post that catches his attention, first and foremost, before he can even click on the book's masterlist. He sips his beer as he peruses the post.

Coming Tuesday - Take One. 

Pornstar!Min Yoongi x Reader

Author's Note: I usually research heavily for smut to make it seem the most realistic as possible. I looked into porn to get a sense of what pornstars go through day to day and came across Min Yoongi. Eajsidicjeisoc HE'S UNBELIEVABLE! So the next book will be a fan fiction based on him. And believe me when I say I'M A FAN.

Beer goes flying out of his mouth. Sitting up quickly, his eyes widened at the text. 

"EXCUSE ME?!" He yells loudly before putting his hand over his mouth. 

A voraciously nervous giggle escapes him as his eyes flit to the popcorn ceiling. "Me? She's seen me?" He doesn't know whether to be astonished or incredibly flattered. He was a mere reader, one of the thousands that follow her blog and here he was being featured in one of her gorgeous stories. Would she write him like he is or turn him into a sex god? Someone completely void of feeling like Bjorn? Or someone absolutely brimming with possibility like Kyla? His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he lets out a happy groan. I guess Tuesdays would be the days to look forward to now.

Sweat builds upon Yoongi’s lean frame as he snaps his hips into his co-star once more. His arm muscles shake as he holds himself above her thin frame, “You like that? Hmm? Like getting pounded by your sister’s husband? You’re such a fucking slut.” He recites his script before wrapping his hand around her neck. She whimpers out, botoxed lips parting for air as she keens loudly.

“Yes! Fuck! More, I’m such a little slut. I want you to fuck me so hard!” She whines and he can feel his energy slipping from him. This isn’t exciting. This doesn’t get him off. It was a trivial part of his job. He knows she’s enjoying it, the way she drools isn’t prompted. The way her eyes roll back every time the head of his cock meets her cervix folds isn’t scripted. He used to savor that. He used to adore fucking his co-stars stupid, making them forget their lines so he could take a break and edge his orgasm away before pile driving into them like a frenzied maniac. Now he just wishes she could hurry up and cum so he could get to the blog. It was Tuesday after all. 

“Oh Christ.” He murmurs out as she cums on his cock for a third time. Her cum squirting onto his thighs as she screeches to the heavens. The camera was solely focused on her battered pussy. And so, with that knowledge he closes his eyes. Picturing, or trying anyway, how Bjorn took Kyla into the fish hut after their summer raid. How he laid her down on the bed of hay and let his wild freeness overcome him. The way he ran his fingers over her nipples deftly. Deftly, that was a word used in the books often that he found himself loving. He remembers reading in obscene vividity how tight Kyla was for Bjorn, signifying that she had not been with a lover since he went to raid England. 

Yoongi finds himself gasping gently as he pictures the scene written just weeks ago by Nevermore’s beautiful hands. His cock was thickening just at the thought and he lets out a loud groan. Pleasure seeping into every nerve of his body as his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. Picturing someone else beneath him, someone more supple to the touch. Someone who was simple and adoring being underneath him because they wanted to be. 

Alas, he’s ripped from his impending orgasm as his co-star scrapes her ridiculously sharp nails over his arms. He lets out a defeated sigh before opening his eyes. Jaw going slack he waves in the prop team. It’s still disgusting to him, the feel of the tube beneath his cock twitch and pulse as the paste emits from below him. It smells like glue. 

He gives a loud moan, something the director would say is beautiful as the paste lands on the folds of her pussy. He pulls away from her, ripping the tube out from beneath him as she giggles to the camera. Her index finger sneaks its way into her mouth and she gives a ginger bite to it before sighing happily. “Thanks Yidu.” He murmurs before grabbing a pair of boxers from his manager.

“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Can’t seem to get off?” Yidu calls to him as she sits up on her elbows. 

“Not with you or with anyone.” He mumbles to himself before shoving open his dressing room door. 

“What’s wrong with you?! Yidu is hot, man!” His manager, Hoseok says as he closes the door behind them. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he digs into his jacket before pulling out his phone. 

“Hobi. I told you. It’s hard to get off anymore, it’s just so… so-”

“Trivial? Come on, Yoongi! You just had one of the hottest A list porn stars beneath you!” Hobi says before handing Yoongi his coffee as he sits down in the arm chair.

“Then you go fuck Yidu. Give her a good seeing too.” He mumbles as he unlocks his phone. Hoseok scoffs loudly before throwing himself down onto the loveseat. 

“Yeah right! She’d never want to be with me after your eleven inch cock was deep in her kidneys.” Yoongi snorts at his comment before turning around to him. 

“It’s eleven and a half inches. I wish you would get it right.” He jeers before sipping his coffee.

Hoseok didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the afternoon. So, he had to wait with bated breath to read the new book until he got home. Which he finds agreeable since he would want privacy anyway. He’s kind of nervous. Isn’t it odd to read a book about yourself? As flattering as it is? 

What if the book painted him out to be this sex craved monster? He takes a deep breath before unlocking his phone. “Okay.” He whispers before crossing his legs and throwing them up on the couch.

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

Yoongi clears his throat before leaning deeper into the couch cushions. There it is. The master at work. Painting him to be a god among men. A small smirk finds its way on to his lips as he settles in for more.

It took a second to notice him. To see him in a sea of moving bodies. He was a gentle breeze in a vast desert. And, in that second you yearned to know him. 

He was tall. Taller than you by all accounts. His hair was black and long, the gentle spring breeze blowing his bangs into his eyes as he leans against the hotel door waiting for his car. 

Expensive. That’s a word that could describe him even in the darkest of nights. The way his leather jacket clung to him, highlighting his biceps. Even his sunglasses screamed exorbitant. With one foot pressed against the foggy glass of the door, you found yourself walking towards him without any care for yourself. 

His jeans hung low, the crisp white t-shirt he adorned barely covering his pale skin underneath.

“Someone’s been watching ‘To Meet A Man’, hmm?” He quips as his thumb trails slowly over his bottom lip. He was already hooked. Seeing himself as the character and yet, completely setting himself outside of it as well. He was torn between the two and he feels as if he could go on this way forever. 

Stopping in front of him, he tilts his head towards you before smirking. “Can I help you, little one?” His voice was like the sound of a harp. Sharp and melodic. 

“You’re standing in front of the door.” You reply. Your index finger pointed at the foggy glass beneath his foot. He opens his mouth for a fraction of a second before nodding. 

“Thought you recognized me.” He murmurs to himself, opening the door to let you into the hotel. 

“I bet you’d like that.” You smile at him, black sundress rippling through the breeze before entering the hotel. 

“Yes. I think I would like that.”

God, this was enthralling. His toes curl as he reads on. Loving the picturing being painted already. How is it that you made this Min Yoongi so incredibly bold and attractive? How is he not this attractive? 

Yes, okay. He was hot. Undoubtedly. He knows that. But, he never flaunted it if he wasn’t on camera. This Min Yoongi was confident and sound. Surely he could cum on command without having to think of book characters to maybe do it. 

Yoongi wishes he was like his book counterpart. He’s a fan of him.

Stepping on set, he takes in the scene before him. This is something his character in Take One would be into. Tying up his woman Y/N. Pleasing her through and through, making her beg for more just because he could. 

Sipping his coffee he hums to himself as his hand runs over the silken sheets of the prop bed. “Wow. Big budget.” He jokes to Hoseok who snorts as a reply. 

“Your co-star is here.” Hoseok whispers before nodding across the set. Yoongi takes off his leather jacket before looking her over and he internally groans. Nothing like how he pictures Y/N at all in the book. 

“Fine.” He mutters out as he hands his leather jacket to Hoseok.

“When did you start wearing leather?” His long time friend asks as he sniffs the jacket. Yoongi shoos him away before running his fingers through his hair. “Mind your business, Jung!” He snaps before taking off his sunglasses.

He’s worked with this porn star before. She was hot, obviously. The kind of hot that screams high maintenance. And she always brought her dog to set. Which was odd. Also, annoying. Every time it yaps, they would have to start the scene over which for Yoongi used to be great but now, he feels an impending sense of doom as the chihuahua opens its mouth. “Yoongi!” 

Oh yeah, her voice was really high pitched. Something that could break a wine glass if she tried to sing opera. “Candy.” He whispers before kissing her cheek.

He used to be fond of her. Hell, they’d even gone on a date once after they filmed a marriage scene together. She was not for him. Not for anyone that had a clear thinking mind and that could count above fifty. “I’m so excited! You remember Tiberius, don’t you?” She asks as she holds up her dog. 

The small dog growls at Yoongi as he gives a half hearted chuckle, “Of course I do. Hi...Tiberius.” He retracts his hand harshly as the dog nips at the air.

“Let’s go get you dressed. Hmm?” Hoseok asks, hooking a hand over his shoulder. He hums to him as they walk towards his dressing room. “Please, kill me now.” He whispers fiercely, earning a loud laugh from Seok as he pushes open the door. 

Running his hands over Candy's body, he lets out a hum of appreciation. Concentrating on keeping his face steady as the camera pans upward. He pinches her nipples roughly, a gasp emitting through the set as she wiggles her hips cheekily. Would Y/N like that? Would she like his book counterpart to treat her roughly like this? Or would she want to be praised? 

"God, look at your sexy little nipples." He says aloud before slapping her breast. She whines into the camera, pulling on the handcuffs as her legs part wider. "So fucking hard for me." He comments before trailing his tongue around her stiff peaked areola. 

She keens for him and his eyes shut just to shield his eye roll. But as the room fades to black behind his eyelids, he remembers something. Nevermore watches his videos. She watches to get ideas. 

His head turns to the director as he moves out of the way for the camera to take a shot of her wet pussy. "You said free script?" He asks him.

The director waves his hand agreeing before looking back at the monitor. His smirk sends Candy beneath him into a fluster. She eyes him delicately as he spreads her legs. Candy was good at this though, rolling off the cuff with whatever her co-stars do. 

Yoongi taps his palm to her pussy before rubbing slow circles on her clit. "Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" She whimpers at the stimulation before nodding. 

"You looked so good for me. I wanted to just tear you apart." He hums at her words before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." He instructs as he shoves his cock towards her face. Saying the lines from Nevermore's story, acting like his book counterpart sends his nerve endings aflame. 

His body tingles with satisfaction and the smile that creeps onto his face is one of pure joy as his cock enters her lips.

Throwing yourself down onto your roommates bed, she raises an eyebrow at you before folding her arms. "What's with the face?"

"Viiii." You whine loudly before burying your head into her pillow. She scoffs gently before laying down next to you. 

"Are you stuck with your writing?" You whinge loudly in agreement before rolling on to your back. 

Twirling her hair around her finger, she snorts gently before leaning against the headrest of her bed. "What part are you on? Hurry up Taehyung is coming over in forty minutes to take me out on a date." 

"Oh Taehyung is more important than your best friend ever that is going through a crisis?!" You faun shock as you sit up on your knees. She laughs, kicking out her feet before rolling her eyes. 

"No. Well...He has a big dick so getting dicked down might be more important but anyway, back to your crisis." Your lips sputter as you giggle before crossing your legs beneath you.

"She's going to have sex with Min Yoongi." You tell her and she hums before tilting her head.

"And? Your smut is hot. Just do what you always do. Fuck her till she's crying." She states plainly and you can't help but chortle at her words.

"But he's a fucking porn star. I don't know how to just-" You intertwine your fingers before smacking them together repeatedly.

"Okay, the word is cohesion. Whatever the fuck that is you think your doing- is gross so please stop that." You pout at her and she pokes your nose before grabbing her laptop with a gentle grunt. 

"Let's get some ideas for your dirty sex romp." She whispers before opening up the laptop.

Skimming through the videos, the thumbnails make your eyes go wide. "How does she do that?!" Viola asks loudly before trying to pick up her leg and put it behind her head.

"Seems like the work of the devil." You murmur before continuing to scroll. 

"Look! A new one! 'Cuffs and Leather.' Sounds lethal." She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you nudge her with a laugh before opening up the video.

Right off the bat it's filthy. And, you can't help the way your body leans in as his hand grazes over her bare sides. "God, his voice is so rich and dreamy." Your roommate comments as he tells her how pretty her nipples are.

Your thighs press together unconsciously before tilting your head. His eyes seem alight with mischief as they look deeply into the camera. It makes something inside of you stir almost innately. "She's pretty." Viola whispers before leaning back against the headrest.

"Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" Those words send your heart lurching.

"No fucking way." Viola yells as she sits up quickly. Your head whips to her as your eyes go wide. 

"No way. No FUCKING way!" She screams before cupping her mouth.

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." His voice, the teasing tone sends you rigid. Your throat dries up and all you emit is a squeak as Viola slaps her fingers onto the spacebar pausing the video.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD. Y/N!" Her screams sound foggy to your ears as your heartbeat begins to fill the void of noise. He's seen it. He's fucking READ it. 

Your face goes red as you stare at the screen. Your left eye begins to twitch as Vi presses her hands to your shoulders and shakes you. Her squeals bring you back to reality and you cover your face with your hands. "That's so amazing! He's read Take One!" She cheers happily and you begin to feel sick.

Your stomach rolls, a cold sweat creeping onto your skin as you put your hand to your forehead. "No." You whisper to yourself before laying back onto her plethora of pillows.

"Yes! This is incredible!"

"No." It's weaker this time as she straddles you. Jumping up and down happily and your body moves freely atop the mattress like a limp noodle. 

"Y/N! What are you going to do?!" She squeals as she shakes you around.

"Delete it." You say before looking up at her. She stops for a second before going wide eyed. 

"What?! Delete it?! No! What're you talking about?!" She says quickly as you grab your phone from her bedside table.

"I have to delete it. This is embarrassing. I mean, he has read something I made for myself and-" You go to unlock your phone and Viola scoffs loudly. 

"No! Give me the phone." She says loudly and you begin to wrestle atop her mattress.

"I HAVE TO DELETE IT. HE SAW WHAT I WROTE! I USED MY OWN NAME IN A FIC!" You yell out as you pin her beneath you. But, she has the grip of a strong barbarian as she shoves your phone down her tank top.

"No! If he didn't like it he would have just ignored it! But, if he had enough balls to put it in a porn! Then you know, he likes it! And he doesn't know your name!" She says. 

You grimace at your phone in her shirt before folding your arms. Maybe she was right. Maybe, he did like it. "So what am I supposed to do?" You ask her as she pushes you off of her. 

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she leans in. Fingertip pressing to the tip of your nose as she smirks. "You're going to write the hottest smut in existence and send Min Yoongi, the porn star cumming in his expensive Dior briefs." She says before fishing your phone out of her shirt and throwing it at you.

"That's disgusting." You whine as you wipe your phone. She shrugs before popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

"You've written sex scenes where men run an actual fucking train on a girl and she's covered in like four different types of cum. Get over it." She says before blowing a bubble. You roll your eyes at her before looking back down at the scene. 

He wouldn't have said something if he didn't like it. He would have just gone on with life as it were. "Now go write your cute little brain away." She says before shooing you out of her room.

"What're you going to do?" You ask as you jump out of her bed.

"Get ready to get fucked by Taehyung. Duh." She says before rifling through her closet. 

With a snort you shut the door behind you before sighing loudly. "Okay, Yoongi. It's on." You whisper before cracking your knuckles and walking towards your bedroom.

Yoongi throws himself on his bed. The California King size is way too large for him. It's seen only him for years now and he can't seem to get as comfortable in the constantly cold sheets like he used to.

Propping his pillows up, he leans against the headboard. Tuesday, the greatest day of the week has arrived. He wonders if you've seen the video that was just released. Did you hate it? Were you too caught up to watch it? He has so many questions that he could speak outwardly just to fall on deaf ears and stagnant air. 

Opening up today's chapter, his eyes scan the regular genre and warnings. But the author's note-- that catches his eye.

Author's Note: I SEE that someone really enjoyed the first chapter of TO and for that...I'm very grateful.

He clears his throat loudly before sighing. The smile that radiates off his face would blind even the most ardent sun lover. His fingers tremble, heart beating voraciously inside of his chest. It takes him a second before he's ready to continue on.

"She saw it." He whispers to himself before sniffing gently.

Crossing his feet he scrolls down the page. Eyes reading the words so fast due to sheer excitement that he has to read them over again to absorb their meaning.

It was the coldest of nights when he invited you back to his hotel room. You knew he was only going to be around for so long and you felt the pressing need to see him for as long as you could. 

You had always made fun of coffee dates. Always joking and jeering with the ever so clever roommate you heartily loved. Ana was your rock in a very baron land. She implored you to go on the date with him anyway, knowing his career and who he was. Maybe he would be different than every other man, or maybe he would just be the best lay.

"You thought coffee was only for cheapskates, huh?" Yoongi asks as he ushers you into the hotel room.

With a giggle you past the entrance, "Something me and my roommate Ana have said before." 

He hums understanding before closing the door behind him. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Just because I have the job I do, doesn't mean that I invited you back here to fuck." He says as you shrug off your coat.

He graciously takes it before hanging it on the door hook. "When will I ever get to fuck the esteemed Min Yoongi again?" You quip back to him as you fold your arms.

His smile dazzles you. Sets your breathing irregular as he cards his fingers through his black hair. "Oh, little one. Quite often I hope." He whispers before stepping towards you.

His hands press to your sides, caressing them gently as his head tilts to the side. Cinnamon brown irises flitting from here to there as he drinks you in. His pupils begin to widen, like molten hot tar spreading over the Earth. "I enjoy spending time with you. And, I'm okay with doing just that." He whispers, running his thumb over your bottom lip slowly. 

The smooth pad of his thumb sends your stomach alight with something akin to fire. Burning hot and bright inside of you, you step closer to him. "And I'm okay with being here. With you." 

He takes your words as a confirmation. Pressing his lips eagerly to yours, you find yourself melting in his strong arms. Lips collide, tongues lashing out at one another as you grip tightly at his biceps. 

It's your earnest whimper that sends him into action. His greedy hands grabbing at your thighs before hauling you up easily. "God, your lips are so soft. I bet they'll feel like heaven around my cock." He whispers against you.

His feet pad slowly across the granite floor before you're pressed up against the grey wall of his hotel room. Your fingers knit into his black hair, tugging gently as you angle his face higher. Nipping at your bottom lip, he suckles once coaxing a sweet moan from your throat. "Fuck." He growls as your legs wrap around his waist.

Yoongi chuckles to himself before pulling his erect cock from his briefs. "What're you playing at Nevermore?" He murmurs as his thumb slowly drifts over the reddened tip of his cock. 

His lips trail over your cheek, the kisses erupting a lava like pool within your stomach. Your lips part for air as he suckles away at your collarbone, leaving cherry blossom petals in his wake. "You're incredible." He says, before pulling down the low cupped shirt you wear.

Your breasts spring out, pushed up by the cups and he lets out a wanton groan at the sight. "God, look at your sexy nipples."

He lets out a breathy laugh, fist beginning to jerk at his cock faster. His tongue licks over his lips before moaning. "Oh fuck. She really watched it. So hot." He whispers to the still air of his room. Even with lust filled eyes, he pays attention to every written word. Gasping gently at each moment as he reads it through. 

His lips, colder now against your heated skin, drift over the valley of your breasts. Stopping over each areola to pluck at your stiff nipples. Your gasps elicit the only reaction worthy, his hips thrusting against you with each sound. "Shit." He curses before suckling harshly at the sensitive skin. 

His tongue flicks so fast against your stiff peaks that your head lolls back with heady wanting. It's in this moment that his name rolls off of your tongue. He stops for a second, fingers kneading at your ass before smirking. "Say it again." He commands through gritted teeth before slapping the thick globes beneath his palms.

"Y-Yoongi." You whimper out and his eyes roll back before latching onto your attended breast. His hands bunch up your skirt tugging roughly at the fabric. "You wet for me? Hmm?" 

His fingers dip between your asscheeks, feeling at the fabric of your panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes them aside. Running his fingertips over your folds, you whine out his name. "You're soaked, little one. Jesus." He thrusts a finger into you without warning-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Yoongi chants as his cock throbs in hand. His phone clatters to the pillow beside his face as his eyes screw shut. "Oh Christ!" He whines loudly before cumming. 

In a sea of stars, he sees the image of Y/N so clearly as he orgasms. Ropes of cum smatter onto his raggedly breathing chest. He gasps loudly before tilting his head to his phone. "Fuck. She's good." He whispers before looking down at his chest and throwing his head back to his pillow.

Yoongi groans loudly as he sits down on set. The Americano in his hand getting cooler by the second as he skims through the script for what seems like the hundredth time. 

"Hoseok tells me you have suggestions." Namjoon, the director says. Yoongi smirks at him before nodding. He holds his hand out to his manager who grunts gently. With a sigh he hands Yoongi the packet of papers before shaking his head.

"This. This is gold. Just read it." He tells the director as he hands him the packet. His thumb skims over the pages before giving a defeated sigh. 

"Okay. I'll read it." He says before looking over at Yoongi's co-star. She smiles briefly, nodding in his direction and he feels a sense of calmness.

His co-star today was one of the better ones. She was sweet, naturally pretty and fun to have banter with. "Lin. Hey." He calls to her as the director skims through the packet.

"Hey Yoongs!" She cheers. Walking over, he finds himself staring at her. She would make a good Y/N, most of the things described in Take One would fit her nicely. She leans against his chair casually before running her fingers through her hair. 

"I heard we might be switching it up." She points her thumb backwards to Namjoon as he continues to read.

"Yeah. I just...read this idea somewhere and I thought it was great." Yoongi announces to her as Hoseok grabs her a chair. 

Sitting down she nods calmly, "What's it about?" 

"Steamy first date sex. Coming back after a coffee date and just fucking up against the wall. It was pretty hot." He admits, thinking back to the sheer amount of cum that landed on his chest because of it.

"You have the arm strength to hold me up?" Lindy jokes as she pushes him with her shoulder.

"You still have those thighs of steel? I might need your help on this one." She gives a laugh before turning her attention to the director. 

"Genius." Namjoon comments as he smacks his palm to the top page of the packet, "Let's do it." 

Yoongi smiles widely before looking at Lindy as she grabs the packet. 

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi mumbles against Lindy's neck as he thrusts a finger in without warning. She moans loudly, eyes screwing shut as he expertly curls his finger within her.

His cock was so hard already, knowing you would watch this and knowing that it's from your book. Lindy was quick at learning the lines, expertly acting as the perfect Y/N he could only hope for. 

"Fuck!" She curses, nails gently scraping down his arms. He groans gently, suckling at the column of her throat as he adds a second finger. 

"Your pretty pussy is so tight." He says as he scissors her open, her arousal practically dripping down his hand. 

"Y-Yoongi." The gentle tone in her voice makes his arms quake. Y/N would whimper for him like this he bets. 

Picking her back up off of the wall, Lindy discards her top. It's almost feverishly fast how his lips attach to her nipple. Groping at the skin of her ass, kneading roughly he spanks her hard. She gasps loudly, breasts thrusting towards his face. 

"Once I saw you, I only wanted this. To feel you in my hands like putty. To-" He scissors her pussy open wider for his cock, "-To feel your soaked cunt stretch around my big cock." 

His hand leaves her cunt only to unbutton his jeans. She kisses down his neck, nipping gently at the skin in her euphoric pleasure. "I want your big cock inside of me." 

He groans at her words, pressing her harder into the wall. Cock springing out, he coats the underside in her arousal before lifting her easily by her thighs. "Thighs of steel, get ready." He jokes, almost silently into Lindy's ear and he can hear a gentle snort in reply. 

He positions her entrance above his cock before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is heated, tongues tangling with one another as he slowly sets her down. Her mouth opens wider at the stretch, his teeth biting and pulling at her bottom lip with a moan. 

"God, you're fucking tight." He mumbles as her hands snake around his neck. 

He was in his element now. Thinking of the book and becoming his book counterpart. Knowing just how crazed Yoongi in the texts becomes at the feel of Y/N's pussy on him. He could practically cum right now on the spot and it sends him into a pleased fury. 

"Y/N." He whispers, closing his eyes. He doesn't realize what he has said until Lindy leans in to him. 

"Easy now, big guy. Don't put your girlfriends name in." His eyes snap open before clearing his throat. 

"Sorry, Lin." He says before thrusting roughly within her. Her hands scramble to grip him tighter as he begins to fuck her for all she's worth.

"Goddammit! You feel so fucking good! Oh shit!" He whines loudly and his eyes flutter shut as he pictures Y/N on his cock. 

Teeth gritting, he rolls his hips filling every nook and cranny of her cunt. She was the perfect vessel for this, transporting him to a cloud high above nine as he bulldozes himself inside of her. Every sound, Lin's gasps and moans send him on the right track of hearing Y/N's voice. She was practically alive off the page for him. 

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good!" She whines as he lifts her hips off of the wall. His tongue licks over his lips as his cock impales her deeper. 

"Rub your clit for me, little one." Bunching up her skirt, she rubs at her clit and he can feel his cock already throbbing. He should keep himself at bay, finish the scene but this was the first time he would be finishing inside someone in almost two years. He can't pass this up.

"Yoongs." Lindy warns as he presses his lips into a straight line. 

"God, little one. You're going to make me cum, your pussy feels too fucking good." He skipped a bunch of lines to get to this one. He can't bring himself to feel sorry though as white hot pleasure courses through him. He could see her behind his shielded eyes, could see Y/N drooling for his big cock as he fucks her. He could hear her whimpers and moans as he fucks her open. 

He could feel Lin's fingers moving in frenzied circles to get off on him and he chokes on a moan as he buries his face into her neck. "Y/N. Fuck. Your pussy is so amazing. Oh, God!" He whines as his cock throbs wildly within her begging for release.

In her heady pleasure, she forgoes chiding him. Instead, she orgasms loudly. Moans ricocheting off the walls of the set as her pussy clamps around his huge cock. "Y/N! Oh shit!" He gasps out loudly as his thighs lock.

He doesn't notice the camera panning to where they're conjoined. He certainly doesn't notice how much he babbles Y/N's name. Lin runs her fingers through his hair, tugging roughly and that's all it takes before he's stuttering inside of her. 

"Oh SHIT!" He yells out as his cock gives a final twitch of pleasure. He cums hard, arms and thighs shaking as her pussy becomes painted white with his seed. Her thighs clamp around him, holding herself up as he practically goes limp before her. His eyes fill with pleasurable tears and he brings himself back to reality to hold her to the wall.

Pulling out of her gently, he finds it immensely satisfying to see his cum finally leak from a pussy after so long. He moves out of the way of the camera before running his fingers through his hair. "Oh fuck." He murmurs realizing now what he's said in his hedonistic pleasure.

"Please cut out Y/N's name." He tells Namjoon who simply nods as Lindy spreads her pussy lips for the camera. She sticks her tongue out at Yoongi and he gives an exhausted chuckle before closing his eyes. Nevermore is the first person to make him cum like this in years.

"You alright?" Lin asks as the prep team cleans her up. Yoongi sighs happily before nodding to her. 

"Oh yeah, I'm great. Sorry I said her name during that." He tells her and she scoffs before rolling her eyes.

"Don't apologize. It felt good to be Y/N." She says before kissing his cheek. 

It felt really good to be Yoongi too.

Sitting down in your living room, it's become a ritual now-- or so Viola says, to watch every new porn Min Yoongi puts out. "This is the most canon like thing that's ever happened in my lifetime." Vi says as she throws herself down beside you. 

She scrolls through the new video playlist before casting it onto your television. Opening a bag of chips, she holds it out to you. 

"I'll probably choke." You murmur as you settle in to watch the new video. She snorts loudly before munching on a chip. 

"This is so exciting. You know, I cancelled a date with Taehyung for this." She informs you before pressing play. Placing a pillow on your lap you bury your chin into the soft fabric before tilting your head to her.

"What's the name of this one?" 

"'Cheap dates.'" She says before throwing the remote onto the coffee table and giving the screen her undivided attention.

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi whispers and the embarrassed laugh that bubbles forward is almost ridiculous. You bury your face into the pillow and you get a quick swat on your arm from your best friend reprimanding you.

"Pay attention! He's fingering her." You laugh louder now, picking your head up slowly. 

It's almost like a fever dream. Watching him reenact the scenes you've so earnestly written. After the initial shock and horror of it all, it kind of became flattering. Knowing that he was so into it. There was something inside of you stirring. 

"Goddammit. You feel so fucking good." You say right before he says his line. The overwhelming sense of pride you feel while watching this makes your heart swell. It’s almost as if he was your greatest supporter. It’s a deeper understanding of knowing how connected you are just by the words you write. 

“It really is exactly like the second chapter.” Viola says. Her voice rips you out of your day dream like state. 

You watch as Yoongi becomes almost animalistic, driving himself into the woman wrapped around him. It stirs you, your thighs pressing together inherently as your lips part. 

“He seems like he’s real into it. Look at him.” Your best friend murmurs and you can’t deny her words as he skips half of the scene in his deep seated pleasure. As he buries his face in her neck you can hear his soft grunting and babbling like there’s no tomorrow.

“Y/N.” The end of your name gets tapered off quickly and you sit up quickly at his moan. Your pussy clenches around nothingness, head turning to your roommate as her jaw drops wide open.

“Did you just hear him s-” Your voice is cut off by hers as she leans in to look at the television.

“Oh yeah.” She whispers before covering her mouth with her hand. 

It’s an awkward silence as he finishes his scene. Heart racing at the speed of sound. Your palms begin to sweat as you stare at his lusty haze. Watching his arms and legs shake with bouts of euphoria. “Y/N. This is… I mean… He’s thinking of you when he fucks someone else.” Vi whispers.

“No. He’s thinking of the book character. I’m just Nevermore to him.” You feel a sense of overwhelming pride as he gently sets his co-star down on the ground. Her pussy creams with his cum before the video ends and you find your body hurtling itself back into the couch with a sigh. 

“Post a selfie.” Viola says quickly before throwing your phone into your lap. Your head turns to her in confusion as she waves her arms wildly. 

“What?!” Your voice is exasperated as she moves her hands faster. 

“Post a selfie on your blog and as soon as he likes the post then just take it down.” She says before unlocking your phone for you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not truly understanding what she’s trying to get at.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking hot and he needs to know what you look like! Just trust me! Did I get the hottest guy in a four mile radius to talk to me by just posting a selfie?” You nod slowly to her and she winks at you.

“Trust me. Just do it.” You shrug before opening up your camera. 

“Pull these babies out.” Viola says as she pulls down your tank top to show your cleavage and you narrow your eyes at her as she shifts you around before humming to herself.

Fixing your hair, you tilt your head and she tuts her tongue beside you. “Just lips and tits.” She tells you and you sigh gently.

“Why?” You ask again.

“Because your eyes are the element of surprise. Just listen to me for once in your life, please.” 

Sighing loudly you do as told, taking a picture of your lips and the curvature of your cleavage. Viola hooks her chin over your shoulder before smiling. “Wow, your boobs look great.” She comments before patting your upper back. 

Opening up Tumblr, you attach the photo before looking at Vi. She grabs the phone before smirking and you read over her shoulder as she types in a comment.

Feeling like Y/N today!

You snort as she posts it, breath catching in your throat as she replays the porn video. 

“What’re you going to do after the shoot?” Yoongi asks his manager as he slings his leather jacket over his shoulders in one smooth motion. He watches Hoseok shift from foot to foot awkwardly. Raising an eyebrow, he leans against the door jamb waiting patiently for a response. 

“I’m actually going out with Lindy today. We...um...Started talking after your last shoot.” Hoseok mumbles. 

Yoongi gives him a gummy smile before clapping him on the back. “Have fun. She’s really nice, seriously.” 

Pulling out his phone, Yoongi takes into account how Hoseok smiles to himself before fixing his clothes. It’ll be good for him to go out with someone. Yoongi knows exactly what it’s like to be lonely. “I’ll head out first then.” Hoseok tells him as he opens up his Tumblr app.

“Have fun, go fuck her so hard she’ll feel it in her kidneys or whatever you say.” Hoseok snorts at his words before tapping his hand against the door frame as he leaves. Picking up his shoulder bag, the first thing he thinks is if Nevermore has watched his latest video.

He hasn’t seen it but he never watches his works after they’re released. There’s something truly cringey about it. Since it was Sunday, a new chapter of Bjorn and Kyla is out. The second to last chapter which seems almost heart wrenching before remembering he has his own story that has only just begun. Clicking on her profile, his legs quake at the image. 

“Oh shit.” He whispers at her selfie. 

She was all natural. No botox like he’s used to seeing. No breast implants. Just Nevermore. And from what he could see, she was right up his alley. There was a small seam between her tank top and breast showing black lace from her bra. His bottom lip finds itself tucked between his teeth as he leans against the door frame. God, she looks cute. Her lips are parted and he imagines his tongue dipping between them, caressing the pink petals. 

His pants begin to tighten and he locks his phone without a second thought.

Getting home for him was almost a blur. Nevermore's lips and chest constantly in the forefront of his brain. Her lips just gently parted as they were, they seemed to hold an innocence to them that intrigued him. She writes such glorious works, the filthiest of sex scenes and she still had this air of innocence. He was so enraptured by a quick glimpse of a photo that he was even wondering if he himself were changing. Changing into a man who wished for something deeper, something fulfilling. 

Throwing himself down on his couch, he unlocks his phone. Her picture was gone from his dashboard and he sighs gently. 

"Damn." He whispers before refreshing the page again. Just a single post from her. Just one line that sent his lips into a full on smile.

Just a taste for you.

It was kind of exciting. This backhanded flirting that you two have gotten yourselves into over a mere book. You would write and he would act. He would moan your name, close his eyes and dream as if he was inside your book. You would write with the intention to see him act it out. 

Yoongi sips his coffee, the first Tuesday he's had off in a long time does not come without excitement. Refreshing your blog, he tilts his head at the new chapter. "What're we getting into today." He whispers before leaning back in his chair.

Softly his fingertips caress your skin, eyes alight with wondrous emotions as you stare at each other in the grandiose bed. The morning sun alerts you, it's golden rays peeking in the window as if to chide you for not having slept all night long.

"I think I love you." Yoongi admits, his voice deep with tiredness as his arm encircles your waist. You begin to smile, eyes creasing with delight. Running your fingers through his black hair, you feel his lips against your shoulder.

"I think I love you too." You whisper before giggling as he straddles you.

"Let me make love to you and show you-" 

"Oh God." Yoongi mumbles as he sets down his coffee. Love? God, what even is that? Now he really wishes that he was like his book counterpart. So sure and sound with himself that he could venture out to find love with other people. It almost nauseates him as he continues reading. Jealousy creeping up inside of him like venom. 

Nevermore's beautifully written words make him seem devoid of feeling anything at all. He wants to be this Yoongi, so badly it's almost eating him alive.

His fingers press the backspace before opening up the messenger page. Clicking on her name he tilts his head as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

Min1993: I don't make love, Nevermore.

Sending the message, he hums to himself. Before he can pick up his coffee he widens his eyes. "Oh fuck! You idiot what did you do?!" He yells before trying to will his phone to unsend the message.

With an exasperated sigh, he throws his arms up annoyed with himself. Shoving his phone away, he buries his face in his arms before scoffing.

"I don't make love." He mocks himself before closing his eyes.

"VIOLA GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" The screech that emits from you earns a clattering in the kitchen and wild cursing. You stand up from your phone as if it has caught fire, both of your hands slapping over your mouth. Your eyes widen at the message, the five words on the screen feel as if they're stabbing you.

"What?!" Viola yells as she stomps into your bedroom. With shaking hands, you point at your phone before swallowing. She hip checks you out the way, drying her hands on the kitchen towel. 

"I just broke the ceramic dish me and Taehyung made at the pott- OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" She screams as she drops the towel. She jumps on your bed, picking up your phone and you close your eyes. 

Writing for him and seeing what he does is one thing. Getting a message from him is clearly another thing altogether. It's with a shaky sigh that you run your hands over your face. 

"He messaged you. I can't believe it and-" She looks over the message before smirking, "He's flirting with you."

With a scoff you look up at the ceiling. Your eyes drift from here to there, not focusing on anything with certainty. Drifting past one of his porns randomly had gotten you here? Flirting with one of the hottest men you'd ever seen in your life. This was like fiction in and of itself. Pushing past your insecurities, your insides clamor with excitement. Arms and legs shaking with adrenaline. 

"Go on! Answer him!" Vi says before pulling you down to sit next to her. Your hands quiver as you take the phone from her, thumbs nervously shivering above the keyboard.

NevermoreWrites: Then what do you do, Yoongi?

"God, imagine if he asks you out on a date? Imagine he fucks you?" She asks, getting comfortable on your bed. 

Her voice falls on deaf ears as you stare at the phone. That nervous niggling beginning to eat at you again. This banter that you'll begin to engage in, where will it lead you? If he wants to meet, you would dare show your face to him? Even after describing Y/N in the books exactly like yourself? 

The insanely loud pop of the Tumblr messenger goes off and you jump from your nervous spell to look at your phone. 

Min1993: I would love to give you some pointers. If you'd be interested. I think myself more of a Bjorn than anything else.

You gasp gently, sending Viola scrambling into your lap. He's read your other books before? Oh God! 

"Amazing! He's amazing! It's official and he has a huge cock!" Viola says before slapping her thighs in a defeated manner.

NevermoreWrites: A Bjorn? Wow, I'm impressed. 

You run your sweaty hands over the knees of your sweatpants. You tilt your head to Viola as she smiles widely. 

Min1993: I've been a fan for a long time Nevermore. Seriously, I have ideas. Give me a call 3721-8724.

Both of you in your room lowly whistle at the same time before laying back on your bed. Your heart beat fills your ears as your roommate giggles. You lay silently for a while before turning to look at one another. 

"So you gonna call him?" She asks quietly as you put your hand over your heart.

"Mhm." You hum to her before beginning to smile. Maybe this project that you began for just yourself is turning into something even bigger than you could ever imagine.

Yoongi doesn't do nervous. He hasn't been nervous since his first audition where he had to have his cock measured. But now, waiting for your phone call, he finds himself incredibly nervous.

Throwing the fourth empty water bottle in the trash, he paces around his kitchen. Even after drinking so much water, his mouth still felt dry. He even put on nice clothes for a phone call. "Something is wrong with me." He whispers to his empty apartment.

This woman, that he's waiting on. The woman he's been a fan of for so long now is going to call him. And, he hopes to the new gods and the old that he doesn't make a fool of himself. Pacing the granite floor of the kitchen, he wills himself to keep his eyes off his phone. Staring at the clock of his oven instead as seconds feel like years. 

It's the ringtone that makes him jump. Knocking over the container of kitchen tools on his counter, he curses before picking up his phone. Taking a deep breath, he answers the call.

"Hello?" His voice is steady, which he is grateful for. But the way his chest vibrates with anxiousness makes him grimace.

"Hi." Your voice is soft. Sending shivers down his spine as he leans against the marble countertop. Your voice sounds so sweet to his ears. 

"Nevermore." The word becomes breathless as he begins to smile.

"Yoongi." 

God, his name from your lips is gold. Shoving off of the counter, his heart finds its regular rhythm. His feet pad to the living room before flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

"I am a big fan of your work." He admits to you. You giggle at his compliment, sending butterflies aflutter in his gut.

“And I am a big fan of your work.” He gives a devious chuckle, his arm finding its way beneath his head as he gets comfortable.

“God, this is nerve wracking.” You say and he can hear your breathless laugh behind it.

The image of your lips, parted ever so slightly and your cleavage come to mind. Swiping his tongue over his lips, he doesn’t find it odd how at ease he has already begun to feel.

“I thought the same thing, but your voice is very calming.” Even without seeing you, he likes to think you’re smiling as widely as he is at his words. 

“Yours too.” You whisper and he can hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“I really am a big fan. I’ve read all of your books before even seeing that you were writing a series about me.” His fingers play with the hem of his charcoal grey button up shirt as he stares at the ceiling.

“Did I get anything right so far?” You ask him quietly. Your voice was as eloquent as your writing. Every word sounded like a song he never could tire from.

“Some things. I’m a fan of the Yoongi in your book. He’s much braver than me, I like how you portray me. Far better than myself, I’m sure.” He hears you snort gently and he chuckles in return.

“Just because you fuck as a job, doesn’t mean you aren’t human.” You tell him. And, the curse that slips past your lips begins to stir something inside of him.

“You did however get something wrong.” He murmurs, his voice becoming a bit more gravelly as he runs his hand over his chest. The gasp you take, the quick sound has his tongue slowly traipsing along his lower lip as he begins to smirk.

“What did I get wrong?” You ask and the nervousness bubbles through easily. Clearing your throat, he takes that second to chuckle to himself.

“Oh, Nevermore. I don’t make love. I fuck every way till Sunday.” His voice is smooth as velvet, and he finds his cock beginning to stir in his jeans.

“Oh God.” Your voice is faint and you sound like you’re about to pass out.

“I can stop. Or I can show you my ideas on how to make it feel more like me. If you want, we can always just talk about Bjorn or Kyla. What the last chapter is going to be about next week.” He says quickly, hoping he didn’t give you the impression that all he wants is to have phone sex. Because, in all honesty, he doesn’t. He wants to get to know you. Wants to know how your wonderful brain can write such amazing, illuminating things. But, the prospect of you all for him right now is something he cannot pass up.

“No...No. I just haven’t done something like this in a long time.” You admit with a laugh. He chuckles to himself before pulling his arm out from beneath his head.

“We’ll take it slow.” He murmurs before hearing your hum of agreeing.

“Tell me your name. Please.” He hears your unsure hum and he tilts his head. Forehead resting to the couch cushion as he practically feels your hesitant stutter.

“Or don’t. I can call you Nevermore.” He says quickly, hoping to not ruin the mood.

“Y/N.” You whisper.

He chuckles at this. Eyes closing before sniffing. But, you don’t laugh along with him.

“Y/N? Like in the book?” He asks humorously. 

“Yes. Like in the books. My name is Y/N.” Your voice is devoid of any playfulness. Yoongi sits up quickly, fingers carding through his black hair as he nods. You were deathly serious. But, it doesn’t put him off. No. If anything his cock strains harder against the unforgiving tightness of his jeans. With a sigh, he unbuttons them before licking his lips. 

“Fuck. That’s hot.” He announces and the breath of relief you give makes him lay back down. 

“It was supposed to be for me and my readers… I-I never thought that you would re-”

“Y/N.” His voice is quick as he cuts you off, “Shall we begin, little one?”

He can hear your sweet low whine before you hum in agreement. Unbuttoning his shirt slowly, he lets his fingers drift over the smooth skin of his chest.

“You got my cock real hard over here, baby. I’m thinking about that cute little picture you posted for me.” He whispers as he unzips his jeans. 

“Did you like it?” The softness of your voice sends his nerves wrought with excitement.

“Fuck yes. You should have kept it up just a little longer. I was getting hard in public over your little slutty display.” Your gasp elicits a groan from his throat. 

“I wanted you to see how much I appreciated you using my scene in one of your movies.” He finds it cute that you don’t use the word porn like it isn’t something he does almost every day. 

“You can show me now how much you appreciate it. What’re you wearing?” He asks as he tugs off his jeans, throwing them over the lip of the couch without a care. 

“I’m wearing just panties and a t-shirt.” You reply and he groans louder at the thought.

“Fuck. You’re going to take everything off for me, do you understand?” He asks as he discards his button up shirt to the floor.

“Yes.” He curses quietly at your submissive answer before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

“Your lips looked so pretty parted like that. I want them around my cock.” His hand shakes as he reaches for the length of his cock. Precum beginning to pool at the slit as you keen on the other end of the phone. 

“I’ve wanted to feel you all over me since I first saw your videos.” You admit to him.

“Fuck, I bet you do baby. Touch your nipples for me.” 

With a gentle gasp, you reach for your breasts. Your breath is hitched as you cup them in hand. “Roll your nipple with your fingers and pinch.” He instructs you and your hips bow off the bed at his request.

God, how were you here doing this right now? With him? THE Min Yoongi having phone sex with you. 

Whimpering, you roll your nipples between your fingertips. “I bet you look so pretty playing with your tits, little one.” The use of the pet name that you wrote for him sends you into a frenzy. Stomach unfurling with lava like heat as your legs spread wider on the bed.

“Yoongi, please. I need more.” You beg. The devilish chuckle he gives has liquid arousal seeping out of you towards the mattress.

“You need more? You’ve already seen my cock. I need to picture what your sweet cunt would feel like around me. How you would beg me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.” You pant at his words, breath devoid in your chest as your toes curl.

“Touch your aching pussy for me, then.” He whispers and you hear his breath hitch on the other end of the line. Your hand dips down your stomach, all the while your fingers continue to pinch and roll your nipples. 

Spreading your pussy lips, you’ve surely never felt yourself this wet before. “My pussy is so wet for you.” 

“Jesus, fuck.” He mutters out and you try to imagine how he looks right now. Laying down with his bottom lip clasped between his teeth. Droplets of sweat sticking to his black sideburns. “I bet your pussy is nice and swollen, hmm? Your clit is probably real sensitive, begging to be touched. Why don’t you rub your clit for me, little one?” 

Doing as told you run your middle finger around your clit in gentle circles. Pressing your lips into a straight line you whimper out quietly. He tuts his tongue in a way that makes your eyes roll back. “Who told you to keep quiet? I want to hear you, Y/N.” 

“Fuck.” You mumble through gritted teeth. Hearing your name actually fall from his lips as he pleases himself, knowing it’s really you who he’s giving his pleasure to makes you moan louder. 

“That’s it. Fuck, you sound so hot. How wet are you for me? Put a finger in your cunt.” With a whine, you do as told. Running your fingers down your sodden lips before entering a finger into yourself. Grabbing your phone off the pillow beside you, you place the phone between your legs as you thrust your finger into yourself. 

The moan he gives is almost hedonistically evil, “Another.” 

Pushing the second finger in, the sounds of your soaked pussy emanate throughout the room and you moan his name loudly. “You’re so hot, Y/N. I swear to fucking God.” His voice sounds muffled as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. 

“Yoongi. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me.” He whimpers out before groaning. 

“You got me edging myself baby. You sound so fucking good.” Thrusting your fingers, you let out a yelp as you curl them to the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Take them out.” You whine in defiance as you continue to build your pleasure higher. Your eyes roll back as you squeeze at your breast, hips lifting off of the bed.

“Y/N. Take them out of your pussy. Now.” His voice demands respect and submission and with a frown you take your fingers out of yourself. 

“If you aren’t going to listen. We aren’t going to play. I’ll hang up and cum alone, is that what you want?”

“No.” You mumble to him. He hums in agreement as you pick your phone back up from between your legs.

“Put your filthy slut fingers in your mouth and suck your slick.” It’s almost mind boggling how quickly he changed roles. But, fuck, if it doesn’t get you on edge. 

Entering your fingers into your mouth, you whimper at the musky taste on your tongue. “You taste how needy you are for my large cock? Bet it tastes good, doesn’t it? Knowing that your dripping for a porn star you’re dying to fuck.” 

Whining against your fingers, your pussy clenches around nothing as he lets out a laugh. “Spank your cum slut pussy. I want to hear it.” 

Your hand shakes as you rear back before slapping your cunt. “You can do better than that, slut. Slap your filthy cunt.” 

Fuck, how is he so goddamn hot? You slap your pussy, the feeling ricocheting through you as your body jolts. Gasping loudly, you end with his name on your lips.

“That’s it. Good girl, little one. You’re so good at following directions. Play with your clit again, you must be aching.” He says and you can hear movement on the other end of the line. 

“Are you touching your cock?” You ask him.

“Fuck yes. You’re driving me insane, baby.” Your clit throbs, aching to be touched and you concede. Rubbing smooth circles, you whine his name out only to hear a string of curses from his end of the phone. 

"Tell me what you want to do to me." You beg as you continue your ministrations. 

He gives a growl and your eyes roll back at the thought of him stroking his cock to you. "I want to stretch you out on the bed, body flayed for me. Make you cum on my cock so many times you'd go stupid for me. I wanna spank your naughty little cunt for even teasing me this badly." He admits and your whimper earns another curse from him.

"I want to suck your big cock, let you use me like a cocksleeve." 

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says breathlessly. 

"Put your fingers in your pussy. Cum for me, I want to hear it." Your fingers jump at the chance, leaving your breast to play with your sodden hole. 

"I want to bend you over a fucking table and spank you so hard. Want you to drool for my cock and cum. Wanna make you cry for it." You hear faster movement on his end, his breath hitching before groaning loudly.

Entering two fingers into yourself, you keen loudly for him. Toes curling as you set an unrelenting pace. You haven't felt this sexy or turned on in so long. "Did you cum for me?" You ask sweetly before tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Not yet, baby. I'm real good at keeping myself on edge. It's my job, remember. Curl your fingers to your g-spot." He tells you. 

Curling your fingers, your thighs become turse. "Yoongi! Fuck! I-I want to cum for you."

"That's it, little one. Keep going. You sound so gorgeous when you moan for me. Makes me want to please you so well."

"What else do you want to do?!" You ask quickly as the bubble inside of you begins to expand.

"What else? Baby, I want to do everything to you. Wanna suck on your sweet nipples until they're swollen and red for me. Fuck your cunt until your squirting all over me like a fucking slut. I especially want you to let me use your throat how I see fit and cut off your air with my cock. Watch you gasp for breath as you let me use you as a cocksleeve." You gasp for him, eyes screwing shut as your hips lift off the bed.

"Your pussy sounds so wet. You're making a fucking mess, I bet. I would love to lick it up. Taste your pretty litt-" You whine his name loudly, hips gyrating as you reach your precipice. "-Go ahead, little one. Cum for me."

Willing it to be so, you orgasm. Your head lolls back as your ears go deaf with white noise. You feel your cum leak out past your fingers as you fuck yourself through your orgasm. "Such a good girl." He praises as you whimper his name repeatedly. 

"Yoongi." You whine as you ride out your high.

"Still here, baby. I'm so close to cumming." He groans out.

Fisting his cock in hand, he can hear your exhausted pants on the other end of the line. His cock throbs wildly, having been edged to completion four times already.

"I want to suck your dick so badly. Let you cum in my mouth and swallow it. Show you I'm a good girl for you." Your voice is so gentle, so fucking sweet.

"Goddamn, Y/N. I'm- Baby, fuck!" He curses as he shoves his phone up to his shoulder off of his bare stomach.

"Want you to cum in my pussy and make me lick it off your cock." The beautiful thought of his cum glazing your lips and cheeks sends his fist stuttering.

"Y/N! Shit!" He yelps out as he orgasms. He gasps loudly, eyes screwing shut as he ruts his hips into the air. Warm ropes of cum land on his stomach as he moans for you.

"Jesus. Wow." He slurs out, feeling drunk off of the pleasure. 

There's silence for a bit as you both breath heavily. Yoongi's eyes slowly open before he chuckles to himself.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He asks as he uses his boxers to wipe his stomach. You hum in agreement and the sound tickles him pink as he turns his body on the couch.

"Until I read your stuff, I couldn't cum for a long time. I was really not excited about sex anymore until I read your works." He admits to you. 

"Really? But, you seem so into your work." He feels cozy now. This pillow talk going above and beyond anything he could have imagined. 

"I haven't been for a while. This was more erotic to me then most of the women I fuck." Your silence at his words makes him question if he's said something wrong. Picking skin off of his lip with his teeth, he waits for your reply.

"That makes me feel really warm to hear that." You finally say and he lets out a breath of relief before smiling. 

"Well it's true… Listen Y/N. I'd really like to continue talking to you. To get to know you more." 

"I'd like that, too."

"You fucking like it? Like trying to gasp for air around my cock? Hmm?" He seethes through his teeth as he thrusts his cock deeper into his co-stars throat. 

Yoongi has gotten amazing at shutting his eyes and picturing you behind his eyelids. He hasn't even seen you, yet. But, your conversations on the phone, the way you can giggle and talk for hours it was like a dream. A dream he would never want to wake up from. 

You were so real with him. Your personality is so magnetizing that it almost makes him feel like he's always known you. And in a way, he has known you. Your mind, your creativity and the way you write expressed something deep in your soul that he had always known.

The tap to his thigh makes him stop. Pulling his cock out of his co-stars mouth, he slaps it against her cheek. Smearing his precum and her spit over her face, he tugs her hair roughly before smiling. "Look at you, slut. Begging for daddy to stop when you practically got on your knees to grovel for my pleasure. What does that say about you? Hmm?" 

With a whimper she opens her mouth for him again, black mascara tinted tears streaming down her cheeks. "That's a good girl." He praises before entering his cock into her mouth. Your lips would be much better suited for the task he thinks. Remembering how you begged to let him cum in your mouth just to swallow his seed. 

"Jesus. That's it, little one." His cock throbs as her tongue swirls over the head. Pulling her closer with every thrust, his head lolls back. He wants to cum so badly. Wants to release and let the camera see his cum on his co-stars tongue knowing you'll watch it. 

"Fuck. Your slutty mouth feels so good around my cock, baby." He whispers through gritted teeth. He bets his life on it that you would whimper at the taste of his precum as your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs. That you would extend your tongue just to get every drop of his warm cum in your mouth. 

"Y/N! Fuck!" He yelps out as he orgasms. 

Disregarding the name he just said he taps her cheek roughly before pulling out. "Show me and then swallow for daddy, you slut." 

She does as told, the camera panning to her mouth before swallowing. "Good girl." He says before stepping away from the camera and her.

"Did you like it?" He asks as he cracks open his beer. 

With a laugh you hum unsurely, "I don't know. You seemed awfully pleased to cum in her mouth."

Rolling his eyes, he sips his beer before sitting down on his couch. "You know I was picturing your mouth around me, don't be silly." 

You giggle as a reply and he can hear clacking on your end of the phone call. "What're you up to? Writing?" He asks as he puts his feet up on the coffee table. 

"Yeah. Next weeks chapter of Take One." You tell him and he smiles at your words.

"Am I going to fuck you over a table again? That was hot." He mumbles over the lip of his beer bottle. 

"No. You're making love." You say seriously. Rapid tapping enters his ears and he sighs dejectedly. 

"You know I don't do that. I don't know how." He replies.

"I watched that video of you having sex with a woman on your wedding night." He gives a breathy snort before clearing his throat.

"Yeah but I didn't love her. I was acting. Your Yoongi in Take One is seriously in love with Y/N. He gets all emotional and shit." The sound pauses and silence invades his ears. He's gotten used to your long pauses, taking them as a sign of deep thought now rather than nerve wracking. 

"I'll teach you." You finally say to him. 

His eyebrows quirk up and he leans forward on the couch at your words. "You'll teach me?"

"Yeah. I'll teach you how to make love. Teach you how to feel emotion rather than just fucking someone till they can't remember their own name." 

"If you recall, last night you couldn't remember your own name after we had phone sex." He quips back, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Yoongi."

"Y/N." 

"I'll teach you." You tell him sternly and who is he to say no.

"Yes ma'am." He replies quietly and he can practically feel your smile through the phone. 

"How about on Thursday? Your apartment or mine?" You ask.

He shivers at the thought before running his thumb over his bottom lip. Fuck, you were amazing. "Mine. Should I buy candles? Maybe rose petals? Decorate a heart on the bed with them?" He jokes to you.

"No. Just you and your pretty cock is fine." 

Fuck.

You stand in front of his front door, tilting your head at the brass numbers. You should feel more nervous that you are, you find yourself thinking. You were more excited than anything else. This is like finally seeing a lover after months of being away from one another. But, you’ve never seen each other. Only talked for long hours until the early hours of the morning. 

You feel comfortable talking with him though. Constantly finding yourself at odds with your gut as butterflies flutter endlessly within you. It just felt natural. You weren’t even that nervous for him to see you in your entirety after portraying Y/N in Take One exactly like yourself. 

Taking a deep breath you ring his doorbell. You can hear sound through the midnight blue door and your heart leaps with excitement. 

A minute feels like hours as you stand in the hallway. “Coming!” You hear faintly.

His voice is even rich and creamy through the door, sending your poor nerves on edge. You pull at the hem of your dress, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

 The door opens and you’re greeted with the handsome face you’ve only seen on screen. Breath catching in your throats, you both look each other over for a second. Taking in his black hair as it sweeps into his eyes and the black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Wow.” He’s the first to speak.

“Hi.” You whisper before clearing your throat. 

He looks like someone straight off the front page of a magazine. His obvious gawking makes you feel giddy, your stomach flipping and falling like you’re on a high rollercoaster descending to the ground. 

“Hey.” He says, a smile creeping onto his face.

You notice how his arm veins protrude as he pushes the door open wider. “Come in.” 

With the flurry of excitement, you don’t really take in much of his apartment. Besides the fact that it’s clean and neat. You mainly focus on him. On the way he swings the door shut and runs his hands over his face like he’s trying to ebb away a bout of nervousness. Min Yoongi getting nervous, why you’d never think that. 

He presses his back to the door and through his black jeans you can see his thigh muscles tensing. “Wou-Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, before rubbing his hands together. 

“Sure. That’d be great.” You say.

He nods slightly, before rushing past you and you giggle quietly as you follow him. He’s so endearing. So absolutely handsome.

Rounding the corner, your eyes fall to his dining room table and you shake your head with a laugh at the many candles that are lit. “Very funny.” You say as he steps into the kitchen.

He chuckles to himself, not making eye contact with you as he pops the cork of the wine bottle. “They’re beeswax candles for wax play.” He mumbles and you let out a laugh before leaning down to the table. 

Elbows folding in on themselves, you look over the bright colors before tilting your head to him. Everything he’s doing, every movement and action is filled with tenseness and you feel sorry that he’s so nervous. 

“Yoongs?” You ask gently. 

His head whips to you as you call his name. His smile is gummy and gorgeous as he tilts his head. “You okay?” You question as he picks up the two glasses of red wine.

He hums in agreement before taking a deep breath and handing you the glass. He seems to have an inner struggle with himself as his hand reaches for yours. Probably wondering whether or not he should take it in his own hand. You let him work through it and you’re alright when he puts his hand back down to his side. 

His fingers flex and rub against the fabric of his pants as if he made the wrong call but you don’t say anything. It’s kind of nice to see his all power, sexy demeanor lost at the sight of you. It makes this real. Makes him real.

He shuffles over to the couch and you follow. Sitting down, he stares ahead at the art installation instead of where a television would be in normal living rooms. You can see him swallow multiple times, Adam’s apple constantly bobbing before shifting a glance over to look at you. 

“Nervous?” You ask him before sipping your wine. The flavor bursts in your mouth, undertones of stone fruits and Earth invading your senses. He takes a sip himself before leaning back into the couch and throwing his arm over the top.

“Honestly? A little. You’re exactly how I pictured you.” He says over the lip of the wine glass.

“And that’s a bad thing?” You ask playfully as you cross your legs.

“No! God! No, not at all! It’s kind of amazing. You’re really beautiful. I just don’t hang out with people much. I read your stories and just stay at home by myself.” He finally makes eye contact with you.

His onyx eyes focused solely on your face. They were holding emotions far more than you thought they would. It makes your heart clench, something deep inside of you falling into a cavern without anything holding you tethered. 

“Well, you’re exactly how I pictured you too.” You jeer and he chuckles in reply. 

He seems to relax after that, molding himself into the couch naturally. And you find it surprising how much you adore his not so cocky attitude like you see in his movies. “Your eyes are very pretty.” He announces before leaning over and putting down his wine glass on the coffee table. 

As he moves you can see his upper chest and you tilt your head at the sight. A god among men, perhaps. 

You cross your ankles, outstretching your legs and his eyes flit to your thighs. He licks his lips quickly before sitting back up. “Are you nervous?” He asks as he rests his back against the arm of the couch.

“Not really. I’m more excited to finally meet you, after talking for so long.” He smirks at this before folding his arms. 

“Who would have thought that you would be the one to put me on edge?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask with a laugh before taking another sip of wine. The alcohol burns nicely as it slides down your throat. Warming your stomach and your insides as he throws one leg up onto the couch bent at the knee. 

“You always seem so shy on the phone. I’m surprised it’s me that is feeling the effects so strongly of our meeting.” He says before holding up his hand as it shakes slightly. 

“I’m not shy on the phone. I’m submissive for you. That’s different.” You retort making him hum as you set down your glass of wine. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks you over once more. There’s something primal in his gaze, taking you in now like prey. He reaches forward, fingers sliding over your dress fabric. Your body turns towards him on instinct, ready for whatever he is going to offer. 

This is something you’ve come to terms with. You like him, kind of adore him actually. Talking with him on the phone, giggling and chatting for hours at a time made him seem so perfect. You were honest with one another, your connection very real.

"And are you going to be submissive for me today? If you choose to spend your time with me?" He asks quietly, the octave in his voice dropping so low you could practically feel the baritone shudder through you.

"No." You tell him confidently and he gives a short laugh before inching his way closer to you.

"And why not? You like it when I make you submit." He whispers. 

He was so close now, that his wine tainted breath fans over your face. 

With him being so close, you could see every emotion in his eyes. Every little thing calling out to you. His tongue slowly licks over his bottom lip and your groin twinges with satisfaction as he begins to smile lazily. 

"Because I came over here to teach you today." 

"Y/N." He whines. 

You watch the way his perfect lips part as he speaks your name. The way it rolls off his tongue like a plea and it makes your stomach coil. 

You press your hand against his clothed chest, feeling his pectoral muscles twitch and you feel power surge through you. He was yours to be with today, not anyone else. Not a co-star or any other person, just you. 

"Yoongi." You reply and you watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes flutter shut and you smirk as he relaxes at your touch. 

"Say it again."

"Yoongi." He groans at the word and you sit up straighter at the effect you're having on him. It's with a simple giggle that you shove him backwards. He hits the arm of the couch with a grunt before opening his eyes.

Pupils blowing out with lust as his onyx irises gaze upon you. You crawl over his body, his hands finding their place on your thighs upon instinct. 

"I like hearing my name from you." He murmurs before showing you the column of his neck as your head bows down. 

You press your lips to his skin, the scent of fresh soap and linen breeching your nose as you give slow open mouthed kisses to his honey colored skin. His fingers dig harder into the flesh of your thighs and you could feel him trembling beneath you. 

"God, your lips. They feel so good." He whispers before swallowing thickly. 

Your hands roam over his shirt, as you suckle gently on his skin. He gasps gently, eyes fluttering shut as he holds you tightly. "I'm going to teach you." You whisper against his skin before nipping. 

His hips lift at the sting, eyebrows furrowing as he turns his head to give you more access. "Fuck." He seethes through gritted teeth. 

Your fingers begin to slowly unbutton his shirt, his hands snaking over your thighs to your hips before squeezing. "You're so fucking sexy. I knew you would look this good." He says as you lift up to unbutton properly.

"You're pretty hot yourself." You joke and he chuckles before looking back up at you. His thumb drifts over your bottom lip as he locks eyes with you. 

"You want me to feel emotion? You got it." 

Your chest puffs up at his words as you shove open his shirt. Revealing small abs and perfectly smooth skin, it's hard to find a place to focus as your eyes flit from here to there. His hands steady your hips before sitting up. 

He grabs you tightly before slinging you over his shoulder with a chuckle as he stands. "Yoongi!" You gasp out and he bends down just to pick up his wine glass. 

He chugs the contents before walking towards his bedroom. With this angle your eyes focus on his backside, every step contorting the muscles of his fit ass. Your hand reaches out for it and you feel a swat at your own backside. "Behave, little one." 

You whimper at his words, feeling arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he steps over the threshold of his room. You want to look around and take it all in but you're met with his bed first and foremost. 

Throwing you down, he runs his fingers through his hair before crawling over your body. The sheets are silk beneath you and you make out a painting on the wall before his face is in your sights. 

"What the fuck are you doing to me? Hmm? Getting me all nervous around you. Making me want to please you so well just to hear my name fall from your pretty lips." He asks as he runs his hands over your dress.

He discards his shirt and you watch his small abs flex under his taut skin with every breath. "Can I take this off?" He asks sweetly as his fingers find the zipper at the side of you.

You lift your body for him as he unzips. He groans at the sound before pressing his lips to your jaw. Sweet kisses glide over your skin and you gasp at the feeling. "I-I'm sup-supposed to be teaching you." You find the words to say as his lips trail down to your neck. 

He suckles gently at the skin, leaving pink and red rose petals in his wake. "I think I got the gist, little one." He whispers against you before nipping at your collarbone. 

Shoving your dress off of your body, he groans at the sight of you. "This is the bra you wore in that selfie, isn't it?" He asks, running his fingers over the black lace hem of the cups. 

You find it in yourself to hum in agreement as he throws your dress to the floor. You don't care how wrinkled it'll get, you can only focus on him as his hands reach for your almost bare body. 

You were making him feel something. Something he certainly isn't fucking used to. 

Knocking your legs open, he situates himself inside them. "Are you okay? Do you want to continue?" He asks for your confirmation as his hands run over your sides. 

"Yes. Fuck, yes." You whine. He chuckles before bending back down. His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing them rough enough to elicit a loud gasp from you. 

"Your skin is so soft, little one." His tongue laps over the skin atop your bra before tugging down the cups. Your breasts heave up at the action and he groans at the sight. 

"Look at your pretty nipples. Fuck." He curses before encircling your areola with his lips.

You were everything he had hoped to see. Everything he could possibly want and here, underneath him like this was sending him into overdrive. 

His hips rut in the air as he flicks at your nipple with the tip of his tongue. Rolling and squeezing your other breast in hand. Your back bows for him, gentle moans escaping your throat as your legs spread wider.

Your hands grasp at his strong shoulders. As he forsakes your nipple to leave his marks around the skin of your breast. "God, you're fucking amazing." He mumbles before moving to your other breast.

Whining his name, your hips lift up begging for more. Hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties, he slowly pulls them down. Tugging on your nipple with his lips as he leaves your core bare for him. "Spread." He instructs.

You find it arousing how he hasn't even looked down below yet. As if he's waiting to reveal it to himself like the greatest gift. Spreading your legs for him, you can feel strings of arousal breaking and snapping to your inner thighs. 

His lips trail down the valley of your breasts and your breath becomes caught in your chest. His thumbs flick at your nipples as he takes his time, kissing and suckling every inch of you. "What the fuck? Were you made for me? You're so perfect." He says before dipping his tongue into your belly button.

"Yoongi." You whimper out as your fingers find his soft locks. Tugging on it, he growls against your skin before looking up at you. 

"Keep doing that and I'm going to forget this whole love making thing and fuck you till your bow legged." He promises and you tug gently at his hair with a giggle. 

He rolls his eyes in response but you don't miss the smirk he gives. He shoves your legs open roughly and your jaw drops in excitement. He kisses at the bare mound of flesh of your pubic bone before picking his head up. His hums to himself, tongue licking over his lips. 

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he makes a V motion with his fingers opening your pussy lips for him. He stares lewdly at your cunt and you could see his hard cock throb through the leg of his jeans. "Look at your pretty little cunt. You're fucking dripping." He mumbles before rearing down and spitting. 

You moan at the feeling, hips thrusting into the air. 

His fingers glide over your soaked cunt. Your eyes screwing shut as he prods at your entrance with a finger. "Eyes open. Watch me." He instructs. 

Your eyes snap open as he nestles his face between your thighs. He breathes in deeply before latching his lips to your now swollen clit. 

"Oh fuck!" You whine loudly as your back bows off the bed.

His mouth was so incredibly skilled, lapping at your clit with such expertise. 

His eyes were on yours as he devours your needy pussy. 

He gives a flat stripe to your sex, before showing you the amount of arousal on his tongue and swallowing greedily. "You taste so fucking good." He mumbles before suckling at your clit again. 

You keen loudly, hands fisting tightly at his hair as he flicks the tip of his tongue to you. Your body jolts with pleasure as you mumble his name. 

Without warning he enters a finger into you. He himself moaning against your sex at the tightness of your dripping pussy. "God! Yoongi!" 

He hums in agreement before lifting up, slowly he drips his spittle from his mouth. You watch with keen eyes as it meets your cunt before he's ravaging you once more. Grinding your clit to the flat of his tongue, you feel white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin feels aflame, your stomach tightens as you course towards the precipice. 

He curls his finger inside of you before slipping in another easily. "God look at you, so eager to cum for me, little one. So gorgeous." He praises and you whine as he lets you ride his tongue again.

He could feel his cock begging to be released from the confines of his jeans. Straining so tightly to the fabric as he precums at the sight of you losing all semblance of reality. You were gorgeously fucked out beneath him, cheeks tinged pink with arousal. He feels something stirring in his gut, something completely different than arousal. An emotion that sends him aflutter and he wonders if he's catching real, true feelings for you.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my tongue." 

Tugging on his hair harder, he groans against you. The vibration shoots through you as your eyes become spotty. Gasping for air, you babble his name as the tightness within you is almost too much to take. It's the image of him as he picks up his head that makes you lose it. Lips, cheeks and chin coated thickly in your arousal and you careen over the precipice as his fingers lovingly strike the soft bunch of nerves inside of you. 

You see stars as you orgasm. Hips undulating violently as your ears ring with white noise. "Goddamn." You hear from him faintly as your thighs shake.

He watches you lay so fucked out beneath him and he smiles. Yeah. He's caught fucking feelings. Moving up your body, he presses gentle kisses to your nipples before kissing you. 

Your first kiss together is wildly heated. Tongues lashing over one anothers as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You can taste your arousal on his tongue and you whimper against him as he flips you over easily. "You're so fucking pretty." He murmurs with wonder.

Your legs straddle over him and you barely notice his hand creeping down your stomach. He rears back before slapping your pussy hard. You writhe with overstimulation, gasping loudly as your thighs lock. "Had to." He jokes before hooking his hand around your neck and pulling you down for a kiss. 

The kiss is languid now, tongues exploring each other's mouths as you unbutton his jeans. The sound of the zipper sounds so loud in the silent room and it fills you with gusto for what's to come next. 

He doesn't break the kiss as he shoves his pants down roughly. He sighs loudly into your mouth as his cock springs free from the confines of his jeans and briefs. 

You've been dying to see his cock in person. And boy, does it not disappoint. You practically gape at the size and thickness. Rose colored veins meet your gaze on his length and you find yourself practically drooling at the sight. His bulbous head is a mean shade of red as it weeps precum begging to be touched. "All for you." He says as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Me and every other porn star." You joke and he clicks his teeth at your words.

"I don't want them like I want you. I've never wanted to feel a body like yours in years. You're special to me, don't you get that? You make me feel shit. You make me cum. Nobody does that anymore, baby." Your eyes greet his as he speaks. And, you watch him earnestly pour out his emotions. You give him a sweet smile before running your hands over his chest.

He sighs at the contact before combing his hands through your hair. "I'm serious. You want me to make love to you? You got it. You want me to fuck you so hard you'll beg me to stop? You got it. Anything. Anything you want, I'm here to please you." 

Your heart swells at his words and you smile wider before grasping his cock. He gasps at your touch, hips rutting into the air before gritting his teeth. "I want to please you." You tell him.

"By all means." He mumbles as his jaw muscles flex. 

Bending down, you pepper kisses over his long length. Earning gentle groans from him as his hands make a ponytail with your hair. Your tongue laps at a trail of precum as it lazily runs down his length and he shivers in response. "Fuck." He curse before gripping tighter at your hair.

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he lets out a hiss of pleasure. The sound makes your pussy clench around nothing. "Goddamn." 

Spreading your legs wider with his hands, he rubs gentle circles onto your clit and you moan loudly as you take his length into your mouth. "Agh, Christ. Your mouth is amazing." He hisses out as you assiduously work your mouth on his cock.

Hollowing your cheeks with every suck, you feel brazen as he moans your name. "Not even some porn stars can suck cock like this. Jesus Christ!" He yelps out as he shoves your head down on his cock. Gagging around his length, he moans louder at the sound. 

Tears spring forth from your eyes as you look up at him. His bottom lip is trembling between his teeth as you run your tongue flat over the base. "That's it, baby. Just like that. Your mouth is amazing, baby girl." He praises you and you keen as he pinches your nipple. 

You whimper against his large cock, your hands gripping at his terse thighs as he lifts his hips with every head bob. He makes it a point to praise you every time you gag. Show love to your body as you cry on his cock. 

Spittle and precum stream over your chin as he begins to lose himself in the pleasure. "God, I've wanted to fuck your mouth for so long. Since you put that selfie up for me. I knew you would feel so fucking good around my cock, baby. So fucking eager to please me." His cock begins to throb as you swallow around him. Trying to get him as deep in your throat as possible. 

"Fuck yeah. Let me use you like a fucking cocksleeve." He murmurs out as your nose nestles to his bare pubic bone. He rears back before spanking your cunt again. Your body undulating at his ministrations and he holds up his hand showing you your fresh wave of arousal on his fingers. 

"Look at how horny you are for me. Fuck you're incredible." He enters his fingers into his mouth, moaning both at your taste and as he fucks his cock deeper into your throat. 

This wasn't particularly love making in a normal sense, but who gives a fuck. Right now, as he fucks your throat you can only whimper and want more. Getting so caught up in being with him that there really wasn't anything but perfection in this very moment. "Y/N. You're going to make me cum, baby. You're- Fuck." He curses before pressing his lips into a straight line. 

He tugs on your hair roughly, his eyes still on you and surprisingly not on his cock as it disappears into your mouth. His heart swells with admiration, wiping your cheeks of your tears as his jaw tightens. Licking over his base you watch him gasp loudly and your thighs tighten around his.

"Oh baby. Fuck. I'm cumming! Shit!" He whines out and his cock gets thicker inside your throat before orgasming. His eyes roll back as ropes of cum slide down your throat. He whispers your name ardently as you swallow diligently.

"Show me." He gasps out and you pull off of his cock before opening your mouth. 

"Such a good girl." He praises.

He takes a second, blinking the lusty haze from his eyes before flipping you onto your back. You giggle at the sudden movement, a smile painted on his face as he leans down to kiss you. Discarding your bra to the floor, he pecks at your lips.

"First woman in my bedroom. First woman to get me to cum that hard in so long. I got a lot of firsts going on today." He whispers against your lips before nipping your bottom lip. 

"Really? I'm the first girl in your bed?" You ask, surprised.

"Oh yeah. No ones ever been this special for me to invite them over. Keep playing your cards right and I'll make you dinner." He jokes as he spreads your legs.

Your giggle is cut off as he enters two fingers inside of you before stretching. With a whimper, you whine his name. "Cum for me one more time. I gotta stretch you to fit my cock in." He expertly curls his fingers inside you and your chest heaves upwards at the feeling.

"You-You never stretch any of the other girls on camera." You say as he scissors you open.

"They don't need to be stretched, they're constantly loose or have already been prepped. Also, stop talking about them and my job. This is about us right now." He says before silencing you with a kiss. 

The pad of his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves and you gasp into his mouth. His fingers begin to fuck you faster as his tongue glides over yours. His taste, the subtle hints of wine and your arousal have your mind becoming fuzzy for the second time. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, arms hooking over the back of his neck as he nips at your tongue.

"You're such a good girl cumming again for me." He whispers before curling his fingers so fast inside of you that you feel all the air in your lungs disappear. 

"Y-Yoongi! Fuck! I'm-"

"Go ahead, baby girl." With a loud moan you orgasm for the second time and he scissors your pliant channel open as he whispers words of praise in your ear. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids and you barely feel his fingers leave you. 

He waits for you to come down from your high. Caressing your cheek with loving strokes as he aligns himself to your entrance. You whimper as he prods at you before looking up for confirmation.

"Just say the word and we can stop. I don't want to push you too much on the first round." So he wants more with you? 

You pull him closer and he pushes his bulbous head past your entrance. Both of your mouths falling open in tandem as he slowly thrusts inside. He was stretching you so open, the feeling almost mind boggling. 

"Oh God." You whine as he buries his face into your neck. Kissing over your heated skin, he pushes himself to the hilt inside of you. He allows you to adjust around his considerable length as he plays with your nipples. Pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. 

"I'll make love to you for however long you let me." He announces into the crook of your neck. 

He suckles more vivid colors to the surface of your skin as your legs wrap around his waist. He pulls out slowly, letting the head of his cock drag against your soft walls before thrusting harshly back inside.

The both of you moan loudly, your hands scrambling to grab onto his arms as he begins a diligent pace. He pulls your face with his hand to look at him as he fucks you lovingly. "You drive me so crazy. So fucking nuts. I can't believe I get to do this with you. You're like a dream." He whispers before kissing you softly. 

The balls of your feet dig into his backside as he continues his pace. You can tell he's dying to go faster but he makes it a point to give you what you want. He was truly making love to you, every thrust having purpose and meaning as he sheathes himself inside of your heat. 

"So nice and wet for me. So fucking tight." He seethes out through clenched teeth and you rock your hips with every thrust to meet him. He grabs your hands before intertwining your fingers together. 

His lips suckle at your skin as he begins to fuck you faster. Sweat beginning to produce on his sideburns. Your hands tighten your grip on his as you lift your hips for more. "I really like you." He tells you as you moan.

"I like you, too. A lot." He smiles before thrusting harder inside of you. Your head lolls back as he begins to fuck you with everything he has. 

"Oh fuck! Y/N!" He cries out into the valley of your breasts. You're a blubbering mess beneath him now, the tightening in your stomach coming back in full force as each thrust meets your cervix folds. 

Lifting himself up, he watches how your breasts jiggle with every thrust. How gloriously in pleasure you are beneath him and he can't deny the feeling of ardent emotion as his heart strings tug at the sight. "Shit!" He curses loudly before letting go of your hands to grip your hips.

Pulling you down onto his cock with fluid motions, you feel his cock begin to throb within you and your pussy clenches around him.

His hand reaches for the apex of your thighs, pinching your clit skillfully. Your eyes roll back, mouth drooling for his cock as he splits you open.

"You're so fucking tight for me. So fucking made me for me. Who does this pussy belong to?" He asks before pinching your bundle of nerves again.

"You! Yoongi!" You gasp out as your veins pump with pleasure. 

"Cum for me again." He mumbles.

He hooks your ankle over his shoulder before drilling into you at a speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. Mumbling his name incessantly you cum for him a third time. Eyes screwing shut as your cunt milks his cock for his cum. "Fuck yeah. So fucking tight." He mutters out as he watches you bask in deep seeded pleasure.

Your cum squirts out of you, landing on his thighs and he growls animalistically before pulling out of you. Flipping you over, he lifts your hips in the air and you can barely understand what's happening as you moan loudly. He enters you in one fluid motion, simultaneously spanking your ass hard. 

Lurching forward you moan his name as you grip at his bedsheets. Fisting them until your knuckles become white. "Fuck. You're so amazing. So fucking willing to keep creaming on my cock." He growls out as his hand grabs at the back of your neck.

He pulls you back onto his cock with fervent need, his eyes on your smarting globes and the way your pussy sheathes him so tightly. "So beautiful." He says before smacking your ass again.

You appreciate the sting, letting it bring you back to reality. His hand finds the junction of your thighs once more and he rubs furious circles to your clit. You yelp out at the over stimulation, eyes watering with tears. 

"Yoongi! Can't!" You whimper. 

"Yes you can. My woman can do anything." He's claimed you right then and there. You allow yourself to be pushed through the over stimulation, crying and whimpering before your simpering turns to loud moans.

"That's it, baby. Good fucking girl." He seethes out before spanking you again. "Let's go for four." He pulls out of you almost fully before spitting on your battered cunt. Pulling you harshly back onto his cock, your cunt continues to convulse around him as he begins to throb harshly.

"Oh fuck. You're going to make me cum." He alerts you. Thighs shaking, you rock your hips back to him with every thrust. Your hands grip the sheets tighter as you cum for a fourth time without warning. 

You bury your face into the mattress crying out loudly as he groans. "Oh fuck! Baby!" He yells out before stilling inside of you.

Ropes of cum smatter the walls of your cunt and you whimper feebly as the warmth fills you. He lays his chest to your back before kissing your cheek. You can feel his chest heave for air behind you and he pulls out gently. Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he chuckles as you cream with his cum. 

You flip onto your back with a tired whine and he laughs quietly. Bending down, he kisses you gently before standing. "Let me clean you up, okay?" 

You hum as you close your eyes. God, hes fucking incredible. 

Cleaning you up, he watches as your head lazily tilts towards him. "You okay?" He asks with a laugh. 

Snorting gently you nod before looking over his naked body. "Did you mean what you said? Do you like me?" You ask him and he stops his ministrations.

Bending down he kisses you. The kiss filled with passion and reverence. "Yes. I like you. Very much." He replies.

"So...what are we?" You ask quietly as he lays down beside you.

His arms pull you into his chest as he rests against the headboard of his bed. Pushing some stray hairs behind your ear, his lips meet your hairline. Brushing against it gently, he closes his eyes. 

"I claimed you while we were having sex and that still stands. I'd like to see where this goes between us. Your soul is so pure, so honest and I'd like to know you on every level I possibly can." Your eyes flutter shut and you smile into his chest as he holds you tighter. 

"I'd really like that Yoongi."

"Me too, little one."

"Baby." His voice is loud as he steps over the threshold of your shared apartment. 

You jump at the noise, sending your fingers flying over the keyboard of your laptop before looking up. You smile at his figure, his bleach blonde hair falls into his eyes as he smiles back. You erase the keyboard smash before closing your laptop.

"Don't stop on my account." He tells you as he sets his keys down on the kitchen table.

"I'm almost done anyway, I was just editing the next chapter." He raises an eyebrow at you before padding over and kissing the top of your head. You purse your lips for a kiss but he hums awkwardly.

"Might not wanna kiss me. I gotta go take a shower too." He says before taking off his shirt and showing you the wax candle burn marks on his chest. You laugh, rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

He notices how your eyes shift to your laptop as he continues to stare. What are you hiding? "Wanna come take a shower with me?" He asks as he discards his pants.

"Sure." 

"Who'd you film with today?" You ask as Yoongi runs the bar of soap over your back, pressing sweet kisses over your bare shoulder.

"Candy. She says hi." He whispers as he pulls you closer to his naked body.

"While she was gagging on your cock?" He snorts into the nape of your neck before swatting at your backside. Whining at the sting, you turn your head and pout to him. He nips at your protruding bottom lip before nuzzling his nose into your wet hair.

"What were you writing before? Take One?" You hum in agreement as he runs the bar of soap over your breasts.

"What are we doing this time? Fucking in a car on our way to the Porn Awards? Or, maybe going on that vacation we won at the charity ball?" He quips and your body goes rigid as he questions you. Fuck, you're acting odd. 

"Just fucking." You say, your voice sounding small under the sounds of running water as it slaps the floor. 

He pulls away from you before rinsing his body off. "I'm done with the shower, are you?" He asks, finding himself sounding distant. 

You shut the water off and grab the towel from him watching him walk away and out of the bathroom.

Yoongi lays in bed, watching you comb through your hair with your fingers and he folds his arms. Your back muscles were terse and he raises an eyebrow as you throw your body down onto the bed as if you're frustrated. 

He can't seem to understand where this was coming from. You've been together for years now and every time you've shown this sort of tantrum or distance from him, he's always just fucked it right out of you till you couldn't remember why you were upset in the first place.

You were usually very vocal. He remembers the first fight you had gotten into, something that he still agrees is his fault. He was careless at first, when you began dating. Not really telling you the subject of the porns he was filming.

He would come home with hickies and scratch marks, without thinking of how you would take it. But, he hadn't had to explain himself to anyone ever. So he understood when you finally snapped and cursed him out. You put him on a sex ban for almost a month and he felt like a hollow shell, reverting back to not being able to cum inside of his co-stars for that little while. 

Just thinking about it gives him shivers and he pulls the covers over his chest higher. Getting comfortable in bed, your back is turned towards him. "Baby, come lay on me." He insists as he runs his hand over your bare thigh.

You stay silent before huffing out and flipping over. Wrapping his hand around your body, his thumb presses into the muscles around your spine. Kneading them gently as his lips drift over your temple. "What's wrong, baby girl?" He asks quietly.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You reply as you lay your cheek on his chest. He rolls his eyes at your hollow words before tipping your chin up with his index finger.

"I'm your fiance, you're supposed to talk to me. We're in this for life, remember?" His eyebrows raise with his words as your fingers run over the wax burns on his body.

"I'm fine. Seriously." You give him the fakest smile he's ever seen in his life before closing your eyes and he sighs a little too loudly.

What the fuck did you write that's got you so upset?

Yoongi picks at the skin on his lip as he watches you sleep. You've been distant for over a week now and he's starting to think he's done something frighteningly wrong. 

He made it a point to tell you that he didn't need to read Take One anymore. That you could pour your emotions and feelings into the story almost like a diary. He wanted you to have that creative outlet that brought you so much freedom.

He loves that about you. Anything and everything you write has meaning, you make it count. And, if you needed to write about how annoyed you were with him in your books then so be it. Vent to your heart's content as long as any real major problems were discussed with him first. 

But, God there was something wrong and he knows he would find the answer if he opens up Take One. Grabbing his phone off the bedside table, he lays you down gently before standing up. He stares at you for a second in your moonlit bedroom, watching you wriggle from the movement before becoming dead to the world once more. 

He sighs as he walks to the bathroom. His feet pad against the heated floor before locking himself in. Sitting down on the toilet, he unlocks his phone. Blinking rapidly at the bright light before scrolling through your blog. 

Chapter 99: To New Beginnings

"Oh Jesus." He mumbles nervously before putting his cheek on his hand as he begins to read.

It's early morning when your husband wakes you up. Breakfast in bed was never his thing, burning eggs so easily as if they were going out of style. 

But it was a welcome sight as your stomach grumbles with hunger. His smile stutters your heart as he sets the plate of food down before you. 

His touch is warm as he caresses your cheek. The feeling waking you up faster than the strongest coffee ever could. 

After last night's ball, how you danced among countless bodies with no faces, he seemed to become reinvigorated. Wholly invested in love for one another. 

He watched children in small dresses and suits play beneath glittering chandeliers. Watched their small bodies dance effortlessly to the cords of classical music and it struck something inside of him. 

"Little one." He whispers to you.

Looking up from your plate, your eyes greet his. His irises show you nothing but ardor as he grabs for your hand. 

Running his thumb over your wedding band, he swallows thickly. Nervousness sweeps through you as his eyes flutter closed. 

"What's wrong?" You whisper, setting down your plate.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you." You nod to him, sitting up straighter as you give him your undivided attention. 

His hand is atop yours, running smooth circles over your skin. In the morning sunlit room, you can see his forehead crease with tension. It seems like he has something to say and it just won't come out. Like he could shout underwater without any outcome. 

He takes a deep breath before looking up at you again. 

"I want to try for a baby." He tells you. 

Your heart lurches deep in the recesses of your chest. Eyes wideni-

"Oh, baby girl." Yoongi whispers before running his hand over his exhausted face. He has thought about it, surely. But, he never put much stake into it with the job he has. 

This is why you've been so distant? You want a baby? Why weren't you comfortable enough to tell him? You could talk to him about anything and everything.

It doesn't seem far fetched to think about having children with you. You were the greatest love of his life, the only love of his life. If it's what you want, then he wants that too. 

The thought sends his mind alive, waking from his exhaustion as he continues to read.

Sliding his hands over your bare body, his lips caress your breasts. Suckling at your nipples with the new intention of having them swell for his child. 

"God, how amazing you're going to look with my child inside you. So pretty and swollen for me." He whispers above your nipple, his breath hardening the bud to stiff peaks.

With a gentle mewl, he spreads your legs. Eyes on yours as his irises begin to swell with lust. 

"Wouldn't you love that, baby? Letting me cum deep inside your fertile womb and give you my son or daughter?" He asks as his fingers knead at the flesh of your thighs.

"Yes! Fuck! I want you to put a baby in me!" You cry out as he begins to smirk deviously.

Yoongi shifts in his seat, hand reaching down for his cock before stopping. God, this was fucking hot. 

Then he imagines you, swollen with his child as he lavishes upon your body. You walking down the street hand in hand as your rub circles onto your stomach. 

"Oh fuck." He mumbles before rubbing at his cock through his briefs. 

Reading through the sheer eroticism you have written, he finds the thought of you becoming pregnant weighing heavily on the front of his mind. Knowing him, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until he makes it a reality.

Standing up from the toilet, he opens up the medicine cabinet doors. Rifling through the small objects and toiletries he finds your birth control container. Without a second thought he clutches it tightly in his hand. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

Unlocking the bathroom door, he leans against the door jamb as you lay fast asleep. “Fuck, I love you.” He whispers, before walking back over to his side of the bed.

You can see him staring at you through the big mirror in your bedroom out of the corner of your eye. Shutting your laptop, you meet eyes with him and you both tilt your heads at the same time to each other.

You giggle gently before looking down at the comforter beneath you. You really shouldn’t have been so pissy with him over the last few days, especially when you haven’t even talked to him about why you were so short and rude. 

He knows you too well by now, he probably knows something must be going on with you. It’s just all been coming to a head lately, you could say. Seeing Viola and Taehyung’s baby, seeing pregnant women in the street glowing and looking happy. It makes you feel like something is missing in your life. 

And, you want these things with him. You love him with every ounce of your being. You should just talk to him, just tell him. It scares you, what if you tell him and he says that because of his career it’s not really too hopeful to have a child. It’s nerve wracking.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Your fiance asks as he sits up straighter. His onyx irises feel like daggers through the mirror and you stand up before giving him a sweet smile. 

“Nothing, going to get ready for bed.” He hums to you before throwing his phone on the bedside table. 

Rifling through the medicine cabinet, you raise an eyebrow at where your birth control should be. You move things around before furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Yoongs?” You call to him as you shove his razors and shaving creams out of the way.

“Yeees?” He asks before stepping into the bathroom behind you.

“Have you seen my birth control?” You ask quietly.

You feel his lips press against the back of your neck. Giving soft kisses to your skin, he ignores your question as his hand runs over the hem of your tank top.

“Babe?” You ask gently.

Shoving your tank top up, your breasts bounce freely before being shielded by his hands. He groans as he cups them, squeezing gently. Your body shudders at his touch, pressing back into him as you steady yourself on the granite countertop. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.” He murmurs against your skin.

Tilting your head to give him more access, you raise your arm to rifle through more of the medicine cabinet. He’s quick to push your arm back down, grinding his hardening cock against the globes of your ass. 

“You aren’t going to find them, they’re gone.” He tells you as he rolls your stiff peaked nipples with his fingers.

With a whimper, your eyes flutter shut adoring the attention. Especially, when you think you don’t deserve it with how nasty you’ve been with him lately. 

Kissing over the shell of your ear, he holds you closer before thrusting his hand down the front of your sleep shorts. Gasping gently, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. 

“Wh-Why won’t I find them?” You lick your lips as his fingers part the folds of your pussy. 

Suckling small marks of reds and pinks, you can hear his hum. Feel it vibrating through his chest as he holds you so close. 

“Because I have them." He whispers before spreading your feet wider apart with his own. Running his fingers over your cunt, he moans as your slick begins to coat his fingers. Digging into his sweatpants pocket he produces the aluminum packet, holding it between his two fingers.

“Why?” You question him, before biting your lip as he rubs circles onto your clit with his middle and index fingers. 

“Because I’m going to stuff you full of my cum and make you carry my child.” He says nonchalantly.

You gasp loudly as he slaps your pussy gently. How could he know what you wanted? Was he that in tune with you? 

"Can I throw them away baby?" He asks, his breath fans over your ear before nibbling your earlobe.

"Yes." Your voice is breathless. 

Groaning at your response he chucks the packet into the garbage before picking you up with his strong arms. Taking off to the bedroom, he kisses over your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you knocked up for the past few days. It makes my cock so hard to think of you swollen with my child, baby girl.” He says as he throws you unceremoniously down onto the mattress. 

Rubbing your thighs together, you watch him crawl up the bed. His tongue laps slowly over his lower lip as his eyes devour you. 

It sends your heart racing. Knowing that he’s going to fuck you with such intent. Knowing that he’s fucking you with purpose and not just for both of your pleasure. 

“Why do you think I haven’t been shooting all week? I want my cum to be potent for your fertile cunt.” He announces as he climbs over you. 

His hands grip at the sides of your shorts before tugging down roughly. Leaving you bare and open to him as he spreads your legs wide. He eyes your soaked cunt before giving you a lazy smirk. Running his fingers through his blonde hair, you can feel your gut explode with wanting. 

“You’re going to let me fill your sweet pussy up, aren’t you baby? Let me fill you to the brim till your tight little cunt is dripping with it.” You let out a sob of pleasure as he plucks at your nipple with his lips. 

“Yes! I want you to give me a baby so badly!” You whine out as he nestles between your legs.

He lavishes on your breasts, groaning gently as your hips thrust upward. Your pussy clenches around nothing, your clit starting to swell with need. His hands press your hips down firmly to the bed as you writhe beneath his ministrations. He looks up at you, his eyes give a stern warning and you know not to move again without being told. You whimper his name gently as he kisses down your stomach, mouth leaving hot, wet kisses before hovering over your womb.

“Look at you. You beautiful minx, I can’t wait to see you swell with what’s mine.” He whispers before licking from your lower stomach to your sex. His tongue is achingly slow, sending your toes curling as you do your best to keep your ass planted on the bed. 

Kissing and suckling at your slick folds, he moans at the taste of you. Lapping up your arousal on his tongue like it’s his favorite meal. Frankly, it fucking is.

"Oh Yoongs! Fuck!" You whine as his arms hook around your thighs. 

Prodding at your entrance, the amount of arousal that leaks from you has his lower half already rutting into the mattress. When it comes to his job he can stave off any sort of pleasure but with you, he just can't help losing himself. 

He enters his finger into you slowly, enjoying how your thighs twitch and lock as he suckles on your swollen nub. 

"Fuck. You're soaked." He groans loudly against you. 

Adding a second finger, he could already feel you beginning to pulsate around him. Trying your hardest to not move at his request. "Grind on my tongue baby, you deserve it." He murmurs before letting his tongue hang out.

With a mewl, your hands fist at his blonde hair before gyrating your hips. Your eyes meet and the whimper you give has his cock twitching into the mattress. 

"I want it so badly. Want you to get me pregnant with your baby. Fuck me so full of cock and cum." You whine loudly.

His eyes roll back at your words as your breath quickens. His fingers curling so fast inside of you, it must be the work of the devil. 

"I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" White hot pleasure courses through you, cutting your nerves to the quick. 

Your fiance grips hard at your thigh, his fingers pumping into so fast you might have just seen Jesus as you rush towards your precipice of pleasure. 

His tongue flicks your clit at a dangerous speed sending you over the edge moaning his name loudly. Back bowing off of the bed, you cover your mouth with a shaking hand as you let out a sob of pleasure.

He kisses over the inner skin of your thighs waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Running your fingers through his hair, you wince as he scissors you open.

"I know baby, but I gotta prep you. Your pretty pussy is too tight for my cock." He tells you as his lips drift over your skin. 

Stretching you open, he tugs down his sweatpants before sighing at the freeing feeling. Watching his cock spring out, you let out an involuntary moan at the sight. Precum weeps mercilessly from the head as his tip turns an angry shade of red. 

Spreading your legs wider with his own, he pulls his fingers from you gently. The loss of being full makes you focus more on his cock. As his eyes run over your figure, you can see it pulse and twitch with need. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, hips lifting off the bed at the sheer excitement of being filled with him. 

“I know baby. I’m coming.” Yoongi whispers before running his cock through your slick folds. The stimulation to your clit has your jaw tightening as your teeth grit together. It’s a sexy concoction of overstimulation and need as your body jolts with each rut against you. 

Pressing his lips needily to yours, your tongues collide in heated passion. Gripping the base of his cock, he enters you slowly. Moaning in tandem into each other's mouths. 

“Christ, your cunt is so tight.” He groans out against your lips as he thrusts himself to the hilt. 

Letting you adjust around him, his lips pluck at the column of your neck. “Gonna look so pretty for me, little one. So beautiful with my child inside of you. I can’t wait to eat your needy cunt while rubbing your big belly.” He whispers against your neck, groaning loudly as your pussy clenches around him at his words. 

“Oh, you like that so much don’t you? Picturing my baby inside you as I fuck you every way I can.” He jeers as his fingers roll your nipples almost painfully slow. 

“Yes! I can’t wait to be big for you. Sucking your cock as you play with my milky tits.” You whisper as you card your fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He curses.

Pulling out of you, he steadies himself on his elbows above you before thrusting hard into you. Your hands grip at the sheets beside you, knuckles going white as your head lolls back.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Soaking my cock so nicely. Shit.” He whispers in your ear. 

The feeling of his breath producing goosebumps on your skin as he begins to bulldoze himself inside of you. Hooking your legs around his waist, you begin to meet each thrust with your hips. 

“Your cock feels so good inside me! I love when you fuck me!” You moan for him as he sits up on his knees.

Shifting your leg over his body, he presses your legs flat against one another. Your pussy becomes tighter around him at the new angle as he practically turns you on your side. Spanking the globe of your ass, you moan as your skin smarts with the sting of his slap. 

“Gonna take my cum deep in your aching little cunt, aren’t you little one? Let everyone in the street know how well I fuck you to get you so nice and big for me.” His head lolls back, licking at his lips as he grips at your hip. 

Plowing into you, your mind becomes muddled. Babbling and whining as he fucks you with every ounce of passion he has. “Rub your clit for me baby, I’m so close to blowing a load in your sweet pussy.” 

Lifting your leg, he grips your knee as you press it against his stomach. Your fingers rub your clit with furious circles, aided by how much of your slick weeps out of you. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, baby. I'm so close." He whispers as his eyes flutter shut.

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he holds your leg tighter to his body. Snapping his hips faster your stomach churns with delight. Your eyes flutter shut as you lift your hips higher, letting the head of his cock brush against the soft patch of nerves inside you.

He could feel your cunt beginning to twitch and clench around his cock and he curses loudly before bending down and kissing you deeply. Swallowing your moans, he groans against you as the head of his cock brushes against your cervix folds. Losing your mind once more, you grip onto his shoulder.

"I'm cumming!" You sob out as your eyes fill with tears.

"Good girl, baby. Cum on my cock. You look so gorgeous when you cum for me." His thumb trails over your bottom lip as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

Your body locks before going boneless as you orgasm. Sobbing loudly, your back bows off the bed. Ears ringing with white noise, you whimper gently. 

"Oh shit! That's it, little one. Your pussy got so tight!" He cries out as he snaps his hips harder. 

His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing and rolling them roughly as his thrusts become erratic and out of rhythm. 

"Oh God, please give me a baby. Take my cum deep in your pretty pussy. Please baby." He begs as he stills inside of you.

"Fuck, take it deep baby girl. Shit!" He cries out as ropes of warm cum paint the walls of your cunt. 

He lets out a shaky breath before burying his face into your neck. "I love you baby so much." 

He pulls out gently before lifting your hips. "Keep 'em up for a bit." He instructs before kissing you sweetly.

"You read Take One, didn't you?" You ask, voice riddled with exhaustion. 

When he doesn't respond you smirk tiredly. His lips drift over your cheek before nodding.

"Forgive me." He whispers to you.

He sits up on his knees before stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it begins to slowly weep from you.

"I'm sorry I wrote it and didn't explain why I was being so coarse with you." He runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"I love you, little one. We're perfection together and children will only add to our amazing life. I want them with you, too. I want everything with you." He tells you, onyx irises staring earnestly.

You giggle before opening your arms. Laying beside you, he clicks his teeth before pulling you into his side. 

"I love you, too. Always." You say as you hook your chin to his pectoral muscle. He wrinkles his nose to you before kissing your forehead.

Sitting down on the couch, you close your laptop before side eyeing your fiance. 

There he sits, beautiful and poised as ever. Sipping his beer, his hand lands on your thigh. He leaves gentle strokes as he notices the attention you're giving him. 

Turning his head away from the movie, he tilts his head to you before leaning in and kissing your forehead. You smile at the warmth of his lips before coddling into his side. 

"Finished this weeks chapter?" He asks gently as his thumb caresses your skin.

"The last chapter actually." You reply as he offers you a sip of his beer. You shake your head with a smile as you extend your feet to the coffee table. 

"Last chapter? But we have so much more to do together. Like getting married and having kiddies. Buying a house and things of that nature." He whispers as he kisses your cheek.

"The ending is perfect for right now. I would really like you to read it." 

Muting the television, he turns his body towards you fully before furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't read it anymore, you know that. It's a trust thing for us." 

You giggle before putting the laptop on his lap. "Just read it. Okay? It's the last chapter… You might find it...uplifting." You tell him.

Placing the beer on the table, he sucks air in through his teeth before opening up your laptop. "Alright." He mumbles

Your feet find their place tucked underneath you as he begins to read.

There are certain ways that one can feel pure bliss. Whether it be seeing a lost loved one after a long while or hearing a song that strikes all of the right cords inside of you. Pure bliss can come in many forms. 

Today was your form of pure bliss. The sex god, your sex god had finally arrived back home from work. Sweaty, with a tired smile gracing his face as he throws his leather jacket onto the coat rack.

Your insides jump with joy, nervously excited giggles raring to pass your lips as he turns to you.

"Hi beautiful." He murmurs with a wide smile before pecking your lips gently.

"Hi." You whisper again his lips before copying the expression on his face.

His head turns to the dinner table, fully set with hot food waiting in the middle. Two candles on either side, picturesque like it was taken straight out of Good Housekeeping. 

"Wow. This looks amazing. Thank you baby!" Yoongi claps his hands happily as you both walk over to the table. Usually you both sit at the ends of the table but today you've taken the seat beside him.

Grabbing your hand, he gives the back of it a gentle kiss before leaning back in his chair. 

"Why such a lush dinner? Did you see my newest movie?" He asks with a laugh.

Butterflies roam free within you at his question. You giggle with him before holding your breath as he picks up the linen napkin from his dish. He gives a quick glance to the plate before almost giving himself whiplash to look back down at it. Sitting in the middle of the plate is a monochrome picture. 

Just a little hint of something white inside grey matter. Taking a sharp breath, he lets out a strangled noise before shaking hands approach the picture. "Oh my God." He whispers before clutching at the paper.

Your hands press together like a prayer as you bring them to your lips. He lets out a loud sob, eyes screwing shut as his hands continue to shake.

"You're pregnant?!" He cries out loudly.

"Yes. I'm pregnant." You say with a giggle as he kicks his chair away. Grabbing your wrist tighter he hauls you up before burying your face into his chest. 

"Oh, little one. Thank you." He cries as he holds you tightly to his body.

Yoongi wipes at his eyes before turning his head to you and sniffing quietly.

"It's beautiful, baby. Seriously. You need to be published. Get your own movie or something." Your fiance says as he closes his laptop.

With a smile, you lean your head against the top of the couch. "So what do you think about me being pregnant?" You ask gently.

He smirks before placing the hardware down on the table and grabbing you. He holds you close to his chest and you can feel his steady heartbeat which has become your life song. 

"We're trying, it'll come babe." He whispers as he runs his hand over your head in a calming manner.

"I use Take One as a diary. It's there to help me keep track of real life events too." He hums in reply before swaying your bodies in tandem.

He smiles unknowingly as his eyes shut. Real life events? Real life?

You wait patiently for it to set it, staring at the television as it lights up with different scenes of the movie he was watching. 

Then all at once, he goes rigid and you give a relieved laugh.

"Didn't take too long now did it?" You tease him as he pulls away from you.

Looking back up at him, his eyes are wide. Pressing both hands to either side of your face, you can see his eyes beginning to water with emotional tears.

"You're pregnant? With my baby? My perfect, precious baby?" He asks and he takes in a deep breath as you nod.

He scoffs loudly before sobbing. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs as his eyes screw shut. His chest racks with emotion as he bites his bottom lip. 

"Fuck I love you." He cries.

His lips press to yours and you close your eyes to take in the passionate kiss.

"I love you too." You whisper against him.

Yoongi groans as he sits down in the director chair. He sips his coffee before looking over the set for the day. He chuckles to himself before folding his arms.

It's your voice that has his head cocking to the side as you step on the set. Stomach so large he's certain you can't even see your feet today. 

"Hi my loves." He says as he holds his hand out to you.

You wrinkle your nose, grabbing his hand as you place a kiss to his temple. 

"Hey boss man! I'm ready to go." He hears from the side of the set and his attention turns to the owner of the voice as he rubs at your belly.

"Y/N, this is Park Jimin. He'll be playing Yoongi in Take One." He introduces the younger man.

You bow your head to him as you take a seat besides your husband. Lazily he rubs at your stomach before calling everyone to their places. 

"Look at us, huh? A director and a screenplay writer for the biggest porn films in the industry. Who would have thought?" He whispers in your ear as the lights begin to dim.

With a laugh you nudge his shoulder as Jimin props himself up against the hotel door just like the first chapter of Take One.

As the scene begins, you find your attention wavering to your newly married husband. Tilting your head, you take in his handsome features. A god among men.

The giddiness explodes inside of you as normal and you feel his son kick inside of you. With a snort, your thumb runs over his wedding band as he holds his hand.

Who knew writing a simple story would get you here? In the greatest place you could ever dream of?

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii i love your stuff - could u do one where the readers ill but they have stuff to do and tom has to look after her. maybe if they were just friends before too but both pining? thankuuuuuuuuu

should I be writing this instead of revising? clearly fucking not. Did I make this little blurb req ridiculously long purely to procrastinate? Of fucking course.

but also this was v cute! I assumed u meant famous!reader, sorry if that's not what u were after at all anon x

summary: Tom Holland turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

warnings: fainting / feeling ill

///////////////////

It couldn’t be today. Of all days, why today? You’d been at home for two weeks doing absolutely nothing, before this trip. And yet it’s when your itinerary is packed to the brim, people moving heaven and earth just speak to you. Two weeks of unrelenting press for Marvels next big ensemble movie. 

Your manager was speaking to you, reeling off a run down of todays activities but instead of listening you nodded along blankly - head rather cloudy with this heavy mist that was not shaking off, no matter how hard you tried. 

“You got that Y/n/n?” Lucy pointedly spoke, eyes almost physically knocking you backwards as if her eyeliner was battery rams. Fumbling with your thoughts, your answer wasn’t particularly cohesive earning you just a disappointed head shake. 

“I um… yeh I think. Who-who did you say I was paired up with?” 

“Y/n please for the love of god. Tom, like I said the past fifty times.” And to be fair to Lucy she wasn’t wrong. It was the first major major promo tour for the both of you and after just two days so far - you were both exhausted. She was more than allowed to be a bit short tempered. 

“But we-we hardly know each other? The chemistry won’t be there and-“

“As I said, I tried to re-jig it but Kevin is of the mind that acting is your job.” Her tone was sharp but as she glared across the opposing seats, in the little mini van Marvel had hired for you as transportation, her eyes softened. Lucy had been so wrapped up in her own stress she may have overlooked quite how gingerly you were sitting. By the time she had arrived at the hotel, your stylist had already managed to half save your ghoulish looking face, with sunken under eyes and tired skin, so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious how crap you were feeling.  “Is everything okay with you?” 

It felt pretty puny to say that the jet lag from flying to Tokyo had been weighing you down further than you wanted, or that the local cuisine top chefs had kindly prepared for you last night wasn’t siting well in your stomach. To be honest, even you thought it was just your body being a bit overdramatic. So in response, you put on your best happy-go-lucky face feigning a smile.

“No no I’m fine, just want to give the best interviews I can and you know…. I’m awkward as hell as it is, then pair me with the most talented actor that I share about two minutes of screen time with…it’ll be interesting.” 

The way Lucy reacted with a weird slow nod, eyebrows furrowed, meant it was quite apparent you had perhaps overplayed that one. Had you not been so over the day before it even began, you would’ve tried again to give a more believable act. But as you were, you turned your attention back out to the bustling streets of Tokyo and the high rise buildings bordering each pavement. 

You didnt have a problem with Tom, far from it in fact. Tom was hilarious and the times you had met him, you’d both built up this weird and sarcastic competitiveness with each other. It was a game of who could get the last laugh, each of you pushing each other with the Mickey taking just a little further. Of course, not in a malicious way, just the way you’d both lived pretty similar but parallel careers - when everyone drew comparisons between the both of you, it was nice to make it a joke. 

Like Tom you’d also started out on stage, had a ‘big break’ movie as a kid and then spent your teenage years on and off film sets - till marvel happened. Then everything blew up to epic proportions, changing your life forever. Actually, it was so similar to Tom’s story, plus the fact you were also from the south west of the UK. It was bizarre your paths hadn’t crossed more - He probably could’ve been a useful ally in the the whole ‘becoming famous’ thing. 

And yet, you could probably count on two hands the amount of conversations you’d had with him. 

Now that, that was the issue. Right from the beginning you learn what the press want and when you are publicising a movie you cater into it too. They’d all be asking for the insider scoop on set; what pranks you’d pulled on each other; what was the most annoying thing about each other. Which is hard if you’d only had 5 or 6 days actually on set together. 

By the time the cab had wormed its way through the Tokyo traffic and you arrived at the PR hotel, it was already 9:30 - making you 15 minutes late (blame it on the traffic). Instantly then you were ushered straight to the interview room for the evening, no chance of green room chat or grabbing a drink before. The place was stuffy, everything was draped with black curtains except the poster board that Tom was already sitting infront of. 

He’d scrubbed up well, no doubt about it. He was wearing statement-ish burgundy suit trousers, teamed with a black knitted but collared shirt thing - that was clearly tailor made for the man. As soon as he noticed you scurry into the room, his face broke out into a warm smile, jumping up to greet you in a friendly hug. It was brief, and as you pulled back you accidentally bumped your head on one of the overhanging lights. No doubt someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time configuring them so they were positioned perfectly, which you had just ruined with your big head. 

“Oh shit!” Tom just laughed in response, shaking his head slightly as he lead you the two steps across to your pre-positioned seats. 

“Making an entrance as always I see!”

“Yeh, you know me, a bit of chaos just to keep everyone on their toes.”

“Oh is that why you’re ‘fashionably late’” With a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, you just rolled your eyes, fidgeting on the chair to find a position that didnt aggravate  your stomach so much.

“I’m ready now though! What did I miss? Just having to pretend to be your friend for 15 minutes?” You stressed the words as though the thought of conversation with Tom was the absolute worst thing in the world - which you definetly didnt think. Scowling like you’d insulted his dog Tessa, it was almost visible how the cogs were turning in his head looking for a comeback. Unfortunately for him though, he was quickly shut up but the organiser bringing the first interviewer in . 

For what would, no doubt, be a long day. 

////

Everything had started off so well, the banter was flowing between you and Tom, no major spoilers revealed that meant Marvel would have to make the journalist disappear. It was once you hit an hour of back-to-back interviews that everything started to crack bit. Because yes, it had only been an hour but that was enough to exhaust you on this particular day. When Tom joked around you got slower and slower, similarly the  energy was zapped from your own answers. It’s not very compelling when someone says ‘you have to watch this movie’ in a monotonous voice with sullen eyes. 

As the interviewers were swapping in and out, Tom actually lightly nudged your shoulder.

“Everything alright? We’re trying to sell tickets and you’ve got a face like thunder.”

“Oh no-no sorry I just, I-um.”

“You want some water?” Now looking at your with more concerned eyes, as if he was just nervous he’d actually offended you for calling you a boring bastard. And you would’ve picked up on it and alleviated his concerns, if it weren’t for the fact your eyes were glued on the water bottle he was holding out to you. You were thirsty. You knew that, that wasn’t the conundrum. What you weren’t so sure about was whether your stomach would accept it, or more violently reject it. In a very non ‘we’re-trying-to-sell-a-movie’ style. 

But the lightheaded fogginess in your brain won out, as you nodded jerkily, taking the bottle and taking a little swig - too cautious to take anymore. 

Now concerned with how Tom thought you were being a Debby-downer too, you managed to perk yourself up for the next four interviews. They were easy, asking questions without any activity and though you did rely on Tom beefing out and adding to your answers, it was okay. Then the next interviewer came in, who you recognised as being from the BBC, Ali Plumb, that had interviewed you a number of times. From the way Tom jumped up to give him afirendly bro-hug, you guessed he also was familiar with him. As soon as he took a seat the cameras were already flashing with the red light, demonstrating his 7 minutes had already started. 

“Guys! It’s been a while.” 

“How are you Ali?” You started it off with the pleasantries, Tom echoing, before the speccy dirty-blonde asked his first question. 

“So the last time I spoke to you guys the universe was in chaos, Peter Parkers on the run and Aurora Blake was trying to strip her own powers, so I guess my first question is how are you both doing? We can use this as a therapy session if you guys need.” His very typical nerdy joke made Tom laugh, nodding as he leaned forward and repositioned a bit. 

You didn’t share the same humour though, more focused on this invisible blanket of stuffiness that seemed to have been thrown on top of you. It made you feel groggy, incredibly hot and so unbelievable nauseous. The lights weren’t helping either, it felt like you were pouring with sweat from your forehead. You thought Tom was answering Ali, even if you couldn’t really hear  - everything had merged into a deafening roar. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unconsciously making you fumble yourself to standing, desperate to get somewhere with fresh air. The last thing you saw before your vision tunnelled into darkness was Tom, reaching out to try and catch you. 

Because next thing you knew, you were on the floor, wires from all the cameras and lights digging into your back as you looked up to see Tom on one side and Lucy on the other - both wearing a similarly panicked expression. You knew you hadn’t been out long, seconds if that, going by the fact everyone else was in the ‘oh my god’ phase of panic. It was a bit weird how calm you where, but then again all your life you’d been the ‘class fainter’. Waking up on the floor was something you were long since used to. 

“Y/n? You awake?” Rather stating the obvious Tom asked the question as you bent your head up - allowing you sight of all the concerned facing oggling you. With a defeated sigh, you flopped your head back. 

“If this is a dream then it’s a real bloody nightmare.” This time Tom didnt seem to appreciate your joke, looking at you without almost dumbfounded eyes, as you blinked repetitively and groaned. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy appeared to want to lecture you, which to be honest wasn’t the most time appropriate. You were still on the floor, legs crumpled up under you, so ignored her. Instead you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, taking a moment to blink away the blotchy haze that threatened to takeover your vision once again, whilst the pair above you both cautiously rested their palms on each of your shoulders -trying to be useful. The room still felt cramped and stifling, as everyone around were no doubt looking at you. 

It took a few minutes but your body seemed to get over itself, sitting up normally and trying to make small talk with Ali - who, by the way, was still sat awkwardly in the chair. Still nestled on the floor, your back up against the chair you had been siting on as you raved with Ali of the Harry Potter theatre show. In a natural lull in conversation, Tom perked up - from the door where he’d been muttering with the organiser as Lucy bit her nails nervously. 

“Y/n you need to go home.” 

All of you knew what Tom said was impossible. Not being egotistical, but you were too important. Although you hadn’t been paying masses of attention for Lucy’s run down of your itinerary - you knew it was packed. 

So you just looked up and rolled your eyes at Tom, earning yourself a strong glare, before locking the organiser in eye contact.

“How many have we got till lunch?” 

“Um this gent here” He gesturned toward Ali, who was almost squirming in his seat now “then two more.”  

“And then lunch?” 

“Yes, then you have a personal appearance at a dinner, so transport will be coming to pick you both up.” This poor guy seemed obsessed with the clock and his timetable, looking at your with a mixture of panic and frustration. You should know this stuff, you should’ve listened to Lucy. 

“How fars the drive?” 

“At this time probably an hour and a half.” 

The plan was clear in your head, you’d sort yourself out in the car and be fully fine by the afternoon and evening engagements. Plus you felt almost fine now. So with a sigh, you hauled yourself up onto the chair, patting for Tom to sit back down. 

“It’s half an hour and then I’ll sort myself out at lunch - come on their waiting.” The way Lucy pouted showed she disagreed somewhat, except a stern look kept her from protesting, as Tom walked toward you. 

“Are you sure you don’t loo-“

“Let me stop you before you insult my appearance.” Snickering slightly at his worried face, you laughed it off , knocking his side with a gentle murmur of ‘don’t worry about me’. 

In fact after that little episode you did feel a little recovered, which meant you were properly noticing the change in the boy sat next to you. Throughout the remaining three interviews he’d done a complete 360 from earlier. Rather than trying to get little digs at you, he had become fiercely protective - jumping in if a questions wasn’t particularly appropriate or relevant to the movie ( meaning when an awfully crap man asked what underwear you’d been able to wear in your suit) ; taking the heat of the conversation as well as just watching you like a hawk. Each time you answered his beady brown eyes were watching you from the side, you got the impression it wasn’t only just because of the risk of spoilers. 

Quite remarkably, you survived the rest of the day pretty well, after a power nap in the car on the way over - even if it was a bit difficult when you had your manager watching you like a hawk from the seat across. It was as if Lucy had never seen anyone ill before, she seemed concerned that you were going to spontaneously stop breathing and die at any point. 

Though by the time all the official business at the dinner was done, your body and willpower had reached the end of their tether. You and Tom were both on a round table, surrounded by 6 CEOs and execs of what seemed to be a multimillion pound business enterprise. With the language barrier meaning you had to speak through the two people on the table who were fluent in both japanese and English, the conversation was already pretty jilted. Though to be fair, the six did seem to be enjoying the evening - something you werent able to reciprocate. Thankfully, five minutes after the main course dishes had been collected, Tom spoke up from his position opposite you.

“This has been lovely and we really appreciate your time and generosity but me and Y/n have a really early start tomorrow so I think we should probably get back to the hotel.” You swore in that moment you could’ve kissed him, and it looked like Tom could tell - by the way your shoulders sagged and you let out an exhale of pure relief. Apparently even if you’d managed to convince the hosts you were enjoying the evening, Tom easily saw through the performance. After some hurried goodbyes, Tom led you out of the hall with his hand hovering over your lowerback, trying to make sure your exit was as discreet as possible. 

Away from the bubble of chatter and activity, in the deserted hallway, Tom stopped you - lightly holding both hands on each of your arms. 

“Wheres your team?” 

“Um Luce is back at the hotel, she was trying to see if she could reschedule any of my stuff tomorrow.” You winced at the way he sighed, realising you were all on your own in some random business event hall in Tokyo.

“Harry -my brother- is waiting in the car at the front - is that okay?”

“No Tom, don’t worry abo-“

“Yeh well I am and I think you feel ten times worse than you’re letting on.” He spoke harshly, like a school teacher telling you off - except the hint of a kind smile at the end was a dead giveaway. 

“You sure?” 

With a relieved nod (Tom had thought you might be a bit more stubborn - you obviously were really really ill) he wordlessly shrugged his suit jacket off, wrapping it round your shoulders. He muttered something about not wanting you to catch a chill but to be quite honest you were a bit distracted by the woody cedar smell of Toms aftershave that enveloped your senses. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being fussed on by him? To be fair he wasn’t wrong either, you were in a strapless evening dress - you would’ve preferred to be in joggers, but Marvels press team had other ideas. 

After a quick pit stop at the toilets, the two of you managed to make an unnoticed escape out the building - into a big SUV which had seconds prior pulled up onto the steps. You literally melted into the nearest window seat, body hunching over as you probably crumpled Tom’s jacket beyond belief. 2 seats along from you, a frizzy haired boy gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned weakly whilst muttering a ‘hi’. Meanwhile, Tom pulled the sliding door shut, sitting across from you. 

“Oh Y/n this is Harry and Harry this is Y/n.” In unison both of you replied with an ‘I know’ eye roll. Your response was somewhat more shocking to both Holland boys, you could tell from the way they had this whole nonverbal conversation with their eyes - they were very clearly brothers. Needing to explain you continued. “I like to keep tabs on my castmates, I’ve seen you on Toms instagram.” That had both boys smirking, Harry presumably just because you knew who he was; Tom more smugly, you’d just given away you slightly stalked him on instagram. 

Silence reigned for a moment, as the driver put his foot down slightly. 

“How you doing?” Tom asked. 

“Mhm…” you thought for a second, how to eloquently describe the sensation. 

“shit.” 

Both boys chuckled a little and even though you had closed your eyes in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your temples, you could feel the eyes on you. 

“You want the music off?” Harry asked, referring to the indie-rock coming quietly out the speakers of his laptop, which was resting on his lap. With a shake of your head you refused, even if really silence probably would help your head, you were already causing the two Hollands enough trouble - no need to bore them during the journey back into central Tokyo, especially when you weren’t the most enthusiastic company ever. 

Thankfully the music stayed on a low volume, whilst the car seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. With a long exhale you fluttered your eyes open, seeing Tom focused on his phone, before you rested the side of your head against the black-out glass. Taking some relief from the cool glass, you huddled further into the corner of the car against the door.

Floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness, you were kind of aware of your head occasionally bobbing and jerking about - but really didn’t have the energy or willpower to do anything about it. Instead, the thing that perked your attention was hearing some supposed-whispering from inside the body of the car.

“I know she said she didn’t care but she was clearly lying-“ 

“Like you know! You’ve been desperate to try and spend some time with Y/n- maybe you poisoned her just so you could be all knight-in-shini-“

“Turn. The. Music. Off.” Tom sounded scathing now, and with a grumble from your other-side the cheery drum beats ceased.

“Happy now?” …and Harry was sarcastic. 

“Swap places with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“So she can lie down.” 

“Well no because you would still be in the way if we swapped.”

“Yeh but she can lie on my lap idiot.”

“She can lie on me.”

“She doesn’t know you!”

“Well for 1, barely ten minutes ago she said she did know me. And 2, she doesn’t know you any better!”

If this was their version of whispering, you would love to hear what volume ‘shouting’ was. There was no reply for a short while, you imagined the two brunettes locked in some intense staring match.The next time Tom spoke he sounded more defeated - almost begging. 

“If I admit you beat me at the driving range the other day will you-” 

“I KNEW IT!” Harry yelped, the volume making you jerk, eyes flying open before reflexively closing because the light was too bright. There was a little mutter of an apology, then silence again. 

Once agin you must’ve drifted off because it felt like absolutely no time had passed when a firm but gently hand on your shoulder nudged you awake. 

Sure enough the boys had swapped position, Tom now sitting along the seat from you, Harry looked a little sulky from across the way. It was Tom who was reaching over, a gentle and peaceful smile on his face.

“You wanna lie down? Don’t want you to strain your neck.” He wasn’t wrong, adding to the throbbing headache, the cloudiness in your brain and the unsettled feeling in your stomach… now your neck hurt. Just bloody great. 

Had you been your normal witty and perceptive self, you might’ve teased Tom as to why him and his brother had done a switch - but everything hurt and all you wanted to do was sleep for a hundered years. So with squinting eyes you jerkily nodded, missing how Tom chuckled to himself. The guy undid your seatbelt, then sat back to let you balance the back of your head on his thigh, looking up at the roof of the SUV. Already your eyes were closed again, you kicked off your slip-on heels and bent your legs up to lean against the backrest - occupying the position you had been sat in before hand. You felt his hands reposition the jacket, pulling it round so it was now like a blanket tucked under your chin. 

To be fair it was much more comfortable than sitting up and you weren’t even aware of how quickly you dropped back into sleep. 

Though it wasn’t quick enough to miss Harry’s very sulky sounding comment, presumably meant only for Tom’s ears. 

“Still think you’re being fucking creepy bro.” 

<33 lemme know what u think! (would make me feel less guilty for not doing all the work I rlly should be doing aha)

tagging : @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove

[robotpussy]

I have a blood boiling, eye popping, joint cracking hatred for stranger things and it’s based in such pettiness I’m sure you’ll appreciate it.

( I’d like to start off by saying yeah I watched it so nobody complains about me not giving it a chance. )

I struggled to watch it because of the flashing light sequences (I’m photosensitive) and when I said that online I was bombarded by a bunch of angry teens saying that it’s their hyperfixation and me saying it’s inaccessible is ableist. This was around when it first came out so that initially left a bad feeling.

As the seasons continued to progress, my hatred for the show grew more and more, the child actors, all the shipping, the thirsting over racist mullet man, the awful script in general. I did not understand why people became so obsessed with the show.

Nowadays I’ll block anyone who follows me who posts stranger things related content (especially that curly haired fr*ak, you know who I’m talking about) and it makes me irrationally angry to even see the actor.

I hate stranger things!! I truly hope this next part that is coming out makes that little gay boy cry and all his friends get eaten by the dungeons and dragons Voldemort dude and everyone gets upset bc they don’t get a happy ending. I want the show to end miserably with bad writing and even worse acting than the previous season.

Thanks for listening xx

PLEASE ME TOO i hate stranger things with a passion both the show, the writers/creators for treating it like some self-insert, the filming on a concentration camp/tattoo thing the fans were doing and the way people behave when it comes to those kids acting in the show.

I couldnt even get past the first episode you are so strong for getting through the seasons esp with all those flashing light sequences. and people act like stranger things is soo good when it seems like it didnt do ANYTHING different to any other sci fi movie made in the 80s would have been.

I hate that new stranger things guy the one who likes Metallica, Eddie or whatever his name is and he is not.... as cute as every one is saying people are doing too much with that guy and all the other dudes on that show really

and dont let me started on how WEIRD people and the media are abt those kids, i saw a tik tok where 3 grown white women were hating on millie bobby brown and its like.... what did this girl do but come in to netflix, do her job and be a kid? they were like "i had a feeling she was a bitch" and one of them was like "shes smoking hot tho" and the other was like "isn't she like 12 tho?" and the other came in to say "nah she just turned 18" like omfg? theyre hating on this little girl like why are you competing with a kid? and calling her hot when you assumed she was like 12?

and the countless other adults who were shipping and calling those kids hot as soon as they turned 18 like there are so many predators around us its unbelievable.

and i hear the fandom is being racist towards caleb on tik tok, its all too much there is so much to hate about this show.

that era in 2017 when the IT remake and stranger things were around were HORRENDOUS. and the kate bush thing. i wish they never made stranger things