#i have no idea how long ago bc memory is a bitch

[pup-pee]

my father telling me how scared he was when i ran away from the house but i cant express how scared i was 2 b in the house

hey, whats up w/that?

[allmyhomieshatelawns]

Alright. ALRIGHT FINE. I’m caving okay. I’m caving to the Trolls brainrot. It’s too good okay. It’s been lifting my depression. Sue me. Please don’t, I don’t own anything and have very little money. So I’ve been devouring all I can on here about the various AU ideas, headcanons, etc. now I’m gonna actually contribute some and break my lurking status in fandoms lol. So here are some scattered thoughts, things I’d change for my AU, working stuff out. Etc. yes, it’s a Feral!Branch AU.

Wanna do me a Feral!Branch AU bc I like feral bitches So Much.

Also like… why did they leave right before the ceremony for Trollstice…? Why didn't they leave the night before, under the cover of darkness? So I'm fixing that. No more Putt-Putt trolls unfortunately, but hey, Viva doesn't get torn from her sister!

Most of the village thinks Poppy has been eaten at the beginning because Chef had wanted to snatch her early to make sure everything was perfect. However, Branch had attacked Chef, sending both he and Poppy to the ground. That's how he has her at the beginning, that's why he's the one keeping her safe as they escape.

Disco merged w Pop trolls decades ago, their ancestors being the glitter trolls.

• Trolls are magical creatures, the guardians of their style of music.

○ Most of the time they use this music to keep the Spirit of Hope flowing throughout the world.

• They have tails and claws and fangs, which varies with what type of troll they are.

• They can reproduce both sexually and asexually. Eggs are sung into existence either way though

○ Asexual reproduction happens on purpose only, there's a magical rite they go through to help themselves conceive with the Spirit of Music (Yep. You heard me. They're fucking a Spirit.)

§ This process is much easier than sexual reproduction, but still takes a lot from the laying parent

○ Sexual reproduction also only happens on purpose. The couple, or thruple in some cases, will combine their hair, locking it together, and consuming each other's DNA, then singing the egg into existence.

§ This process can take a few hours, and takes a Lot out of the parents.

• Eggs can take anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks to hatch, depending on the strength of the parents, however a long hatch doesn't necessarily mean the trolling within will be weaker, especially if they're able to have that time to develop.

• Trollstice has been going on for 100 years.

○ It started as just the bergens going ham and slaughtering everyone, before both the king of the bergens, and the king of the pop trolls, came together.

○ The king of pop was given two choices:

§ We [the bergens] will eat all of your entire people, wiping every last one out.

§ Don't leave while we build a cage around your tree to keep other bergens out, and you'll only be eaten once a year. Every year. Forever.

○ Immediate annihilation, or generational trauma? Yeah the king chose trauma. He was eaten for his efforts, once the cage was completed. He was the first troll eaten for Trollstice.

• King Peppy is that king's grandson,

○ he watched his father come into power and how horrible it all was, the terror of knowing there was a death day coming around the corner

○ Not to mention the bergens that would try to skirt the cage and reach in for any stragglers.

○ So King Peppy decided that he wouldn't do this, he would save his people.

• The plans for the escape from the Troll Tree started before Peppy was even crowned, the hollowing out of the tree and mourning as it slowly died, despite their magic hiding the worst of the effects.

○ The tunnelling takes more than a decade, but finally they make it out.

○ King Peppy pushes away memories of his first daughter, knowing that she would have to have been captured and likely eaten already.

○ It was too painful to think about those they lost that night.

How being feral works here:

• More in touch with wilder aspects, sharper senses for one, all heightened to be vigilant of danger.

○ This can easily lead to overstimulation, since sharper senses mean more sensitive. A loud bang hurts like being slapped, sudden light is like being stabbed, etc.

• Denser coat of fur

• Longer, sharper claws and fangs no matter what type of troll, this shit will get larger and more dangerous

• These trolls tend to end up on the shorter side, either from malnutrition, the walking on all fours that is common as a feral, or something else like having to hide to start with.

• Become feral by isolation, got nothing to do with colors

• More skittish for sure, more willing to go for violence

○ Will roughhouse for fun

○ Will also take long naps in the sunshine, just like a cat, ears fully alert, but able to relax in the soft warmth.

• Difficult to speak, more accustomed to growling, hissing, purring, silence, etc.

• Ferals can sing however, not with words since they can't really speak

○ It's a haunting sound, usually double-toned with a Deep Bass Rumble

• The magic ferals can do is also more 'primitive' but only in the sense that it's pretty strictly some form of deep nature magic, or some kind of knack that they have.

○ For instance, Branch is stupid good at digging homes and making them safe, why? He's got a sense of it. He's got an extra sense that tells him where to put dirt, how to mix in the water, where to support what, where not to dig, where there would be water underneath, etc. He's just good w the ground in general.

• Nesting is more important to ferals than other trolls. A feral's nest is their sacred Safe Space, if you are in their Sacred Safe Space, then you had better've been fucking invited there because you won't make it out of the nest intact.

• Grooming is more intensive of course, they're out in the wild, and the wrong scent could lead a predator to you.

○ To be groomed by a feral means they care deeply for you, and they're trying to keep you safe and clean

• Once you go feral, like, you can kinda get reintroduced to society and all that, but the physical changes won't ever go away

• Ferals hibernate in the winter, growing an extra dense coat of fur and blubber to last them the long three months of snowfall.

• Usually takes a couple of months of being completely alone to go Full Feral, if with like, one other person, it takes about a year to go Full Feral with them.

○ A community can go feral, depending on circumstances and numbers.

§ More likely that a community goes partially feral, not as wild as fully feral, but much more wild than a non-feral troll community would be, less focused on the party vibes

But yeah that’s what I’ve kinda got knocking around in my noggin, if anyone wants to gush w me, please feel free. I will gush about these stupid fucking trolls for hours without taking a breath. They’ve hooked their damn claws into me.

[rotisseries]

cough. idk if i explained how theo was brought back but basically . it was liam had the idea to bring theo back. hayden, his GIRLLLFRRIIIENND. was not on board. she used to be in his pack. anyway liam who literally almost killed scott ......... was like "we need something capable of absorbing a lightning bolt. or someone." and liam knew theo killed josh for his power. so he knows he could take a bolt of electricity. in theory he's risking a lot. (he needs someone to absorb lightning bc the ghost riders aka villain of the season travel on lightning and he wants to be able to capture one and then go from there.) he went to kira's mom and asked to bring him back. he was confused when kira's mom gave him the sword and said "youll have to do it yourself" bc he figured that she was gonna do it. and then she tells him "whatever happens...is your responsibility." hayden said she supported him in whatever but right before he put the sword in the ground where they left theo all those months ago, she said "WAIT" and he did it anyway and theo came from hell dirty and scared like a wild animal he IMMMEEEEDIATELY pins liam to a wall with his forearm on liam's throat. . listen. when i tell you he's looking around frantically and afraid its like they cant even talk to him. hayden is like "theo we're not trying to hurt you!" ans hes like . off somewhere. and he says "where's my sister?" <- in some weird growl because he is PETRIFIED RN. and they mistake theo's question for memory loss. liam says "your sister's dead. she died a long time ago." ans HAYDEN SAYS "you killed her ...remember?" hayden..... shut the fuck up. YOU DONT KNOW THAT.??? anyway and then theo says hes gonna kill liam and etc etc then liam holds out the sword as a obvious threat and theo backs off. says that they need his power to help them. AND THE DEAL ALWAYS WAS. THAT THEY USE THEO AND SEND HIM BACK. THAT THEO HELPS HIM AND HE GOES BACK. THATS HOW MUCH THEY HATE HIM. EVERY WRONG OR WEIRD THING HE DOES OR SAYS ANS SLMEONE SAYS "send him back" LIKE FUCKING CHILL GIVE HIM A MOMENT. anyway that was always the deal. but liam said "help us and you can kill whoever you want after. but if you kill US. then you're gonna be worse off than ever." <-ish. and theo says. "theres nothing worse than what ive been through." they do not respond or acknowledge that. do mind tho, liam treats theo with the most respect, more than anyone else does even tho he has good enough reasons to despise him. unlike hayden he recognized how scared he was. and didnt yell at him or accuse him of killing his sister. just said she died. anyway. so theres this contracption that they have able to hold all the jules or voltz of electricity in a lightning rod. they brought theo to it to TEST if he could handle a lightning bolt. liam tells him he can do it. he cant. he doesnt have  josh's power and he doesnt have tracy's power and hes back to classic theo. he thinks hes gonna get sent back by the way liam and hayden are talking so that mf starts going "hold hold hold on i can help" he has information on the ghost riders and he knows shit from the dread doctors and HE REMEMBERS STILES!!!!!! stiles got taken by the ghost riders and if you get taken you get erased from everyone's memory and basically reality. ans since he was in hell he . remembers him. and he also has exclusive information on the person liam ans hayden brought down with them to test the lightning. hes a science teacher at the high school. but in actuality, theo knows who he really is. i aint got time for all that rn. anyway liam lets him stay on account of knowing who stiles is and the fact he probably does know things.

imagine coming out of literal hell and some bitch is like "you killed your sister" babe one of us is going back down there and it won't be me

[rarepairnation]

6, 13 and 22 for the ask game?

hi friend!!! thank u for sending these<3 i was gonna ask you if you wanted to send different questions bc there’s a couple repeats from the last ask but then i came up with new answers. if you still wanna send diff ones though i will answer them as well

6. which ship fans are the most annoying

ACTUALLY LMFAO I LIED IN THE LAST ONE. i think (hope?) you’ll find this one funny lol well the 0.5 people in the denethorongil ao3 tag who are just there for crack. girl the psychic situationship. that is so fucking interesting. this is like the reverse answer. which ship NON fans are the most annoying. Anyway. i think it just pisses me off whenever a dynamic that could be so thematically (and dramatically) intriguing gets dismissed or made into a joke bc like. come on is that the best we can do? perhaps i just frequently lack a sense of humour about this kind of thing. or maybe people mostly are not funny…who can say.

13. worst blorbofication…TWO!

now is my time to SHINE baby….little pathetic baby faramir is SUCH a textbook fucking case of blorbofication. that shit is ridiculous. yeah the idea of a punching bag dad to take shit out on and/or guy bending over backwards just for his dad's approval appeals to you. unrelatedly how is your relationship with your dad. but i swear to god i KNOW that there are other characters out there that fit this archetype better. there are PLENTY of sad little people pleasers out there. dont take one of the greatest bitchest craziest men in the whole wide green world and make him your little crybaby. if you read the denethor faramir relationship as abusive you gotta also understand that he is right there punching back at it all. goddamn. he had gone on the orders of the lord of the city indeed. peter jackson im gonna fucking get you. this is a guy that first blamed his brothers death on their father and THEN promptly forced said father to order him to his probable death for the sake of his own moral code he has never once laid down and taken it in his LIFE. he’s been arguing back since he was like seven years old or something. in MANY THINGS he displeased his father! he is not a doormat he is a motherfucking doorstop and he WILL make it your problem! also i don’t have anywhere else to put this opinion so it’s gonna go here. it hit me sometime yesterday that the desperate-to-please faramir narrative almost works better with canon denethor. i mean film faramir is a totally different guy so like im not even sure if he would have the same history with his father but like just bear with me here. if he knows that his father trusts him as a commander and yet cannot (seem to express, although failing to express for long enough is basically equivalent) love him as a son…that he has memories of… actually just kidding this doesn’t fucking work at all. because the POINT of it all is that denethor and faramir are the same until they’re not. sly and tactical and cunning and so so so numenorean that elros tar-minyatur would WEEP. while i think film faramir and book denethor are - if not diametric opposites, at least not. so similar. i mean peter jackson literally blorbified him himself. here is my new guy with maybe one of his key traits preserved. man when i reblog a film faramir gif im just imagining book faramir’s personality. i hope you all understand this. i just. i DO love david wenham’s faramir face. he put so so so much 100% home grown bitch energy into the capturing frodo and sam scene faramir and i am simply imagining him translating all that onto "on one occasion at least your counsel has prevailed, not long ago. it was the lord of the city that gave the errand to him." now THAT…oh captain my captain. do you get it

22. your favourite part of canon that everyone else ignores

on one occasion at least your counsel has prevailed not long ago/stir not the bitterness in the cup i poured for myself. people LOOOVE you wish now that our places had been exchanged but read two more lines girlypop IT GETS BETTER. i mean people smarter than me have figured it out already but "restraint"…the idea of faramir having been holding this back for a long time. perhaps even since he first realized boromir was dead and thinking oh. oh, father sent him, or agreed to let him go, or however it went down, and now he is dead and it is father's fault. jesus christ that makes me crazy. and denethor basically saying what else do you think i have been thinking about for weeks. do you dare to think this is new news to me im not the heartless bitch you think i am. of course i blame myself. ARE YOU KIDDING? this is like the entire dynamic contained in two lines of dialogue. i had a runner-up answer but im too sleepy to write it all out but ill tell you what it is and its how WEIRD denethor and faramir are. theyre so weird you guys. i am psychic and prophetic and i WILL make it your problem.

[buggybambi]

exes with benefits | lip gallagher

inspired by: olivia rodrigo's "bad idea, right?" (2023)

wc: 1.83k | nav post mae note: okay i hate the ending of this so if anyone else hates it please lmk and i will adjust it because ugh i changed it like three times and it still feels... meh? idk i feel like i need to make a part two (if people even like this??)

rating: 18+ post, minors dni. :-) content warnings: fem!reader / afab!reader, unwrapped p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), kinda public sex??, exes hooking up, plot with little plot, unsettled ending lmfao, fem!fingering, oral (f recieving) bc lets be honest lip is a munch, brief mention of reader wearing panties/a bra

House parties were never really your "scene".

The chaos and uncertainty of whose house you're even in, the smell of colognes and perfumes and sweat, the alcohol being mixed together in plastic cups that are discarded on the floor later that smell like Disneyland if it wasn't cleaned in a month-. Every part of a house party sounds awful. So, why are you standing in one now?

Well, your friend Lauren would be the reason why. Work had been a bitch for her recently - her words not yours - and you had gone through a breakup recently, prompting her to suggest a girl's night out. How you ended up at a house party from the crappy bar she dragged you to in downtown Chicago was beyond you.

"C'mon! This is totally gonna distract you from Lippy and all the drama he brought. To being single!" Lauren drunkingly cheers as she holds up her plastic cup of (you're sure) three different kinds of alcohol. You hold up your glass of water barely, running a hand over your face. "Yeah, can we not announce that?" You ask.

Two seconds later, she's giggling with a guy leading her up the stairs. You sigh, turning to go get some fresh air when there he stands. Lip Gallagher. Your freshly appointed ex-boyfriend. Or Lippy, as Lauren refers to him.

You and Lip had dated for two years, but you'd known him since you were kids. Your relationship was perfect, until one night. When he called you clingy, a bitch - this was of course after not talking to you for almost a whole week. You told him that night you were done with him. That he could call when he figured himself out.

He didn't call. It'd been a month.

It doesn't feel real that time has passed that quickly, because part of you is still stuck in his bedroom. Right where he left you. A lesson well learned.

"Hi." He says, as he stares at you. You stare right back.

"Hi." You manage to get out, clearing your throat. "I have to go-"

"Wait. Can we talk, please?" He asks, walking over to you, a hand on your arm as he whispers to you. The world stops for a pause before you nod. "Fine." You agree.

You let him lead you upstairs into an empty room, taking it in. It looks to be a guest bedroom, few decorations other then picture frames with the "welcome to our home" and flower vases on the nightstands.

"Welcome to my hell" would be a better fit.

"Why are we avoiding each other like this? You've been my best friend since I was fucking ten years old, I don't want us to lose each other like this." He says as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking note of the floral bedspread. "We already lost each other, Lip. A long time ago." You point out.

"Don't do this shit, don't be all cryptic." He rolls his eyes as you stand right back up, almost giving yourself whiplash. But that's disregarded when every memory floods back to you.

"Oh my God! What the hell do you want from me, Lip, huh? You want me to just forget every single thing you said to me? Or maybe you want me to just forget how you avoided me like the damn plague for a week before you finally did call me just to blow up at me and tell me you didn't want to be with me anymore. You can't go from telling me I was your favorite person to telling me you think I'm a bitch. And I can’t even look at my favorite person anymore, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?" You burst out, turning away from him, staring out the window.

It's silent for what feels like an eternity before you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind. "I don't want to lose you. I- I haven't been me since you left. Please." He isn't sure what he's even begging for from you, but his voice is soft enough where you feel yourself wanting to give in.

This was a bad idea, right? After all, he was your ex. But you're both mature adults, can't two people reconnect? You'd only see him as a friend this time, it wasn't like he had to be something more.

You sigh as you push his arms off, walking for the door, waiting for a moment before locking it. You turn back around to face him, walking over to him and barely grazing his lips with your own to tease him before he kisses you. His hands find themselves on your waist like how he used to put them there when he kissed you like this.

Used. It still doesn't feel real to use parts of your relationship in the past tense. How you used to kiss him, how he used to hold you, how he used to be yours.

You kick your shoes off, and he does the same.

He pushes you back onto the bed, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, one hand on your back, the other sliding up your thigh. He knows your body so well, it's almost a science to him. He knows how your body reacts to certain touches. Certain places to kiss to make you giggle. Parts of your body that if he touches them, your back arches or you naturally move closer to them.

Like right now. His hand teasing around your sex, not quite touching where you so desperately want him.

His mouth only parts from yours to begin kissing down your jaw, then onto your neck. Finding solace there, he makes a mark on your pulse point, low moans erupting from you. Hands running through disheveled curls.

His hand finally reaches your cunt, and you hear him groan at the wetness growing on your panties. He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod desperately in return, not sure what he’s planning in that genius brain of his.

He removes your shirt so he can kiss your chest. Then your bottoms, leaving you in only your bra and panties. A finger slides those panties to the side, and he lets out another groan as he slides the digit past your slick folds, and you let out a gasp in return. You give a little tug to his hair and he almost moans at it, which you make a mental note of.

He thrusts his finger out, at a torturously slow pace, all while kissing down your body. You quickly realize when he grins up at you what he wants to do. What he feels he needs to do. You give him a nod of your approval, moans still flooding out.

He stops thrusting and removes his finger, only to replace it with his tongue. Sucking and kissing your clit, sliding his tongue in you while his hands run over skin on your thighs. You bite on your hand just to muffle your moans from the still active party outside, just as his nose bumps your clit.

“Shit, Lip. I'm close- fuck..” You whine as he laps desperately at your sex, and you can feel his smirk. "Language. Let go for me, baby, please." He requests softly, rubbing tiny circles on your clit.

You don't last long after that.

He lets your climax drip down your thighs, grinning to himself as he watches, feeling some of it on his jaw. "Need to feel you, please, Lip." You beg, and he frees himself from his boxers. Giving himself a few strokes before he lines himself up with his enterance. "You ready, sweet angel?" He asks, pressing his forehead against yours and lightly trailing slobbery kisses down your cheek before connecting to your lips. You pull away only after a second, whispering a soft "yes, please" before you're kissing his jaw in anticipation.

He groans, inserting himself past your now damp folds, thrusting gently in and out. He watches as his dick is swallowed by your cunt, your walls fluttering around him like it’s a familiar friend coming back.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why he pushed you away. Maybe he let the negative thoughts that you were too good for him take over. Maybe it was just the Gallagher thing to do.

But he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Your moan brings him back to reality, hands on his shoulders as he finds a new position to fuck deeper into you, and he finds himself groaning as your nails dig into his skin. You quickly learn by the way his dick twitches he enjoys that.

And he learns by the way your walls squeeze around him you like it when he hits that spot in you. The spot that makes your head feel blurry, the spot that replaces every thought with his name. The spot that makes moans come out of you, the spot that makes the familiar heat in your belly grow.

“Fuck, Lip, I’m gonna-” Your words are cut off when he hits that spot again, even with a new angle. His forehead pressed against yours, sweat connecting with sweat. “Shit angel, you were just made for me. Pretty pussy just missed me, huh?” His words slur from the pleasure clouding his senses.

Your moans and mixtures of his name are more of an answer for him. The room smelled like sex, sound of skin slapping against skin filled it. He pressed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he rubbed small circles on your aching clit, and he feels the familiar white heat pouring out of your cunt.

He doesn’t last long, burying his seed deep in you. Swallowing your whines and moans as he pulls out, only breaking the kiss to stare at you, both of your chests heaving as you catch your breath. Watch your eyes having a silent conversation with his.

He lays down beside you. He watches as you run a hand over your face, and he decides to wash you both up. Returning with a damp washcloth, he helps get you cleaned up and setting your clothes on the end of the bed.

“So, uhm..” He tries to think of a conversation starter, and you shake your head, holding a hand up. “We shouldn’t have done this.” You whisper, frowning as you grab your clothes, slowly redressing yourself.

“You don’t have to go. We can go back to your place or mine and we can just talk.” You don’t realize he’s begging rather than requesting. This can’t be how you and him say goodbye after seeing each other again for the first time.

"I can't do this, Lip." You point out as you fight to get your shoes on.

You’d only see him as a friend.. biggest lie you ever said.

"I love you." He says. "I was an idiot for not saying it before so I'm saying it now. I'm in love with you and I always will be."

Definetly a lie now.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! if you enjoyed reading this you can definetly check out my lip gallagher masterlist here -> click me!

- mae:)

[shooting-star-hearts]

My main ships that I constantly brainrot about in a summary

this has been in my drafts for the longest time...lmfao

Starting with Axelise!

I created Axelise when I was around...10 or so? Tbf the farthest memory I have of them was when I started drawing them, so it was...during 2016. It first started out with them as lps but as I learned about making them as ocs, that's when I started experimenting on them a little more, hence, they eventually just became furry ocs

So...dynamic? For the most part, they're an opposites attract trope and, because I'm gay ass for childhood friends to lovers with an angst twist(aka "I knew them when we were kids but got separated at some point"), I made them like that. They're also very important to each other since they've helped each other since they were kittens, like helping Axel escape from his traumatic life or helping Annise get stronger and realize her purpose of being gifted in terms of power. That being said, the two of them are "destined" but never knew that(or in other words, soulmates), either way, they both made a promise to always be by each other's sides from that day onwards.

Now for Cloubri!

oc x canon ff7 ship hehem. Most friends and peeps knew Cloubri as Cloustrid bc I hadn't changed Aubri name too long ago...I believe I changed it somewhere back in summer. Anywho, funny things is that this ship was created like...during the time my feet was dipping into ff7, aka the time I had no idea what ff7 was about I was just being a simp for Cloud and, me being me, I love making ocs for characters that I feel attached at first sight, so that's where I started unfolding into the insanity of ff7 in 2020 and I also have the right to blame Sephiroth's reveal in smash bc while I was interested in ff7 beforehand but shy, he was the motherfucker that really gave me that push

"eerm akshually Cloud is part of the LTD" yeah well- you see- here's the thing-

I don't care

Now for dynamic

much like Axelise they have the same "childhood friends that got separated but then got back 2gether after years" deal so yeah there's that for starters. They have massive one sided angst on Aubri's side due to Cloud's own crushes and complications growing up, but she was overall patient, even in their relationship(AC time included). From the moment these cheesy bitches bonded was when Cloud understood that Aubri was stuck to him like glue, knowing how much every part of himself meant to her and took her it slow getting to understand him clearly, as well as always keeping an eye out for his own selfcare and keeping him away from unnecessary trouble that he'd potentially get dragged into since they were little. So I suppose that fits in the "concerned x reckless" trope too.

This isn't to say that these two are my only ships that I'm obsessed as hell with, I often talk about them so, this is a starters for now. But I will eventually get to other ships as we go aight!!

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

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

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

[caernua]

for the record, most of it it is bc the preview showed us exactly how little effort they put into this and i expressed my disappointment then lmao so i was ready for a half assed round-up of. conversations with awkward animations

and part of is also bc they delivered on things people don’t care about but i care about 💀 mainly basim and hytham fjdbfjfj. the hytham scene warmed my cold little heart and seeing basim smile when hytham said the hidden ones treated him like a son actually made me scream.

i also feel like they gave us a better understanding of the loki/basim distinction and how that came to be when his memory resurfaced. nice to know that people who have insisted basim was born with loki’s conscience and memory and had them all his life were wrong 💅 i like that he has things he’s attached to from his life as basim, i think his dedication to the hidden ones is genuine, as is his affection for hytham. and the main theme being played at the end? a bitch was in tears

and honestly? compared to the other dlcs i felt like eivor’s dialogue (not actions!!) was way more in character 🤷‍♀️

BUT OH BOI let’s get to the negatives

like i said before it’s absolutely tragic that this is the send off eivor gets, valhalla really is the king of putting effort into meaningless shit that no one cares about and this is what we’re left with. just a lackluster couple of cutscenes strung together with characters that are in no way meaningful or important other than hytham and sigurd. we don’t care about guthrum or harald if eivor is saying goodbye she should say it to oswald to valdis to vili to ljufvina to erke to stowe to their love interest whether it was randvi or tarben or petra etc etc literally NO ONE cares about guthrum or harald eivor least of all 😭 what a slap in the face

overall i feel like the ending would have worked, but it just needed a way bigger project and a bigger storyline. the fact that darby said that it’s supposed to take place after gunnar’s wedding is actually mind blowing in how dumb it is. so eivor gets back from hordafylke, after facing odin and rejecting that part of herself in favor of those she loves, only to immediately summon odin BACK??? and to just seek out answers from him????? and isn’t siege of paris supposed to take place after valhalla’s ending???????? THAT’S CRAZY. i really hate this era of social media where writers have to add on all types of details on there bc it ends up being so inconsistent and darby has frankly said some weird stuff 💀 he’s said he sees eivor and randvi as canon but previously he’s told youtuber jayvee that he doesn’t see eivor as a person who would end up in a long term relationship, he’s tried to overexplain memory corridors for god knows what reason because it’s just a cool thing that exists for the player, we really don’t need an explanation based on #factsandlogic and he’s said that the reason why male eivor exists was not because the studio really wanted a male protag option but because that’s how they envisioned the story (yea. sure 💀)

i just accepted a long time ago that eivor’s story would never get a satisfying ending and i think i was just happy to catch one more glimpse of two characters i liked but that’s it. and i’m certain that the writers had a much bigger project in mind but it just got scrapped in favor of other dlcs that were frankly way less relevant to the story.

the thing i had in mind when i finished valhalla was sooo much more grand and more exciting. and i only got that idea because the game made me believe in that idea, the heavy foreshadowing about eivor leaving, hinting that alfred might find them. there was also a reddit thread where darby mentioned that the nine realms in norse mythology correspond to real life locations and there were rumours that dlc 3 would take eivor in a journey somewhere around northern africa. i really thought we would get a dlc that kicks off with a huge event, like alfred attacking ravensthorpe and eivor being tricked much like her father, which causes her to lose everything. THEN it would make sense for her to leave and to seek out odin, because she would have nothing left. i thought her search for answers would be more complicated, that it would be in the physical world as well as in visions and it would have this deep emotional ending. maybe even a moment where eivor directly addresses basim the way ezio did with desmond at the end of revelations and how interesting that could have been, because their relationship is so much more antagonistic!! that’s what i would have liked to see

i think this was just another huge proof that ubisoft doesn’t know how to do rpg and that they should have gone no further than origins. valhalla just seems like a messy ass project full of effort put into things that seem to be specifically made to waste your time that no one cares about while giving absolutely no fucks about eivor as a character and just completely butchering and ending that could have been fucking amazing because the main storyline was the right set up. a Shame 🫠

yes the rumours are true. i am one of the 4 people who actually liked the final chapter

[wildernessuntothemselves]

first of all THANK YOUUU~ to 🌶 anon

i am so flattered other ppl read my LONG ASS ask,,,, i hope you enjoyed it~

i took some time to rest (aka i fueled my introverted battery and baked a cake,,, gave it away (dont ask, i felt like baking), showered, watched some tv, ordered pizza and am now chillin on my couch hehe) and now i feel very talk active sooo here i am ONCE AGAIN

AND @shanice-1104 U ARE SO RIGHT

ITS ME,,,,IM THE SIMP (intelligent people are just so😫),, I AM INDEED OPEN FOR A SUGGAR- I MEAN FOR A DOCTOR TO PAY FOR MY NEEDS 😁😁😁😁😁

YALL SEE THEM CALLING ME DEAR AND BABE‼️‼️‼️ AND TELLING ME I SHOULD REST‼️‼️AND HOW THEY LOVE MY IDEAS‼️‼️‼️‼️ THE PRAISEEEE THE PRAISEE

anyone wanna be my yamqn!beomgyu but without the yandere 💗🥹🤌🏻

and what is a turn off…

like i said i am one kinky bitch… which actually literally no one i know personally knows😭

but i have some no gos and also some unpop opinions aaand this is the perf opportunity to just talk abt them i think its fun

so one thing i find rlly off putting is ddbg😟

or age play.. it makes me a little uncomfortable cause sometimes it feels like they’re sexualizing things that should be kept innocent and not be smth that has to do with … well sex, in my opinion and also THAT LACTATION THING BC ITS THERE TO FEED BABYS (with women) AND THATS WEIRD ON ITS OWN SO WHY WOULD U LIKE IT FOR MEN ????

and i know many people like roleplay but ill be honest, i never get the appeal of it, it kind of just puts me OUT of the mood immediately when i read it in fics or someone mentions it..

and exhibitionism, i do not understand the appeal of doing it in public for example, i can see why the ✨forbidden✨ aspect might be fun but in general i do not like the idea of random people seeing smth so intimidate and i also always feel bad for people who maybe notice it 💀

what i do find interesting and fun..

is somnophilia… and the thing is its kind of risky and a lot of people dislike it

but i think with the right circumstances it can be so nice?!

first of all having a partner you trust and have talked it through with completely! all the limits and what you do like/want

and then i saw this idea of having little necklaces, since it could take away some of the fun of having to personally ask your partner the night of, if they consent.. bc it could take away the suprise for example,, but generalizing and saying its always okey isnt great either… bc maybe ur in a bad mood or had a shit day and dont feel like it at all… so those necklaces could be customized to say yes or no or smth and indicate if the partner consents to it on that night or not

i think that just makes it a little safer for misunderstandings NOT to happen!

what i like abt it is the idea of waking up to your partner pleasuring you, or think your partner is so needy at night but they dont wanna disturb you so it just opens a lot of possibilities and i think its fun and maybe exciting which is what kinks are supossed to be i believe!

and what i RLLY like is marking up my partner i srsly love it (an obsession of mine here we go-)

i dont like it in the childisch way of having an obvious hickey on your neck and then flaunting it at school like youre THE DUDE… it feels a bit immature tbh

i love it in the way of (and i have written this a bit ago, explaining to my ex why i like it so much)

“i dont want others to see, i just wanna look at my work at the end of the night, making a mental image and the next time they look in the mirror they’ll be reminded of what we did”

which is also why i have a soft spot for thighs, hands or wrists, collarbones, lower bellys, backs and chests/boobs… theyre my fav places to mark up and i just love the idea of cuddling with my partner, counting all the hickeys or bite marks i left and recalling memories, the idea of them knowing i “own” them in the sense of theyre mine and mine only to ✨see✨ (although in general im not rlly possessive and don’t get jealous easily) so i can even bite their thigh for example and im the only one who’ll know (like our lil secret) or maybe leaving a cute lil hickey on their wrist and next time i play with their hands fingers i can see my mark- oftentimes when i find someone insanely attractive and their collarbones and neck show (in a photo (maybe a nude- for example) the idea of me being able to ruin or corrupt the beautiful sight with bitemarks makes my heart go 💗💗💗 and me in general 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

yeah i def got carried away AGAIN. i even wrote this in my notes so i wont get distracted and delete everything… and now i have completely exposed myself, everyone be careful i might bite ;)

-❄️ (feelin a bit spicy today now are we)

that sounds restorative. glad to hear about it ❤️ but i can't imagine going through the effort to bake or cook something just for someone else like that could never be me. i too need a yamqn gyu which is probably why i prefer him to tyun lmao

and omg y'all are blinded by the doctor title. i don't have shit to my name. my 5 years younger brother makes around three times my salary lol you only make good money out of being a doctor in america i swear

i totally get the ddbg and age play thing. like i get it the appeal to some extent like being taken care of and spoiled (is that the appeal? idk) but i just find it icky when the "baby" character can't speak or they have very obviously child-like mannerisms. it grosses me out. i've seen more than a couple fics of that type around felix lmao

and yeah lactation both ways freak me out but especially on males. i don't remember if i've written female lactation for iyym or not but if i have it was only to increase the crazy factor of felix (says I who writes noncon scenes)

roleplay is tricky because in real life i don't think i could ever take it seriously and in fics it wouldn't be roleplay it would just be the characters being the actual roles like teacher/student etc. but maybe if i tried it in real life i'd like it? idk i think i'd just laugh

oh man exhibitionism is definitely a kink that only belongs to the fics for me. i may have done a couple of things in public before but that wasn't because i was into it. i just didn't have a place to do it lmao. but getting caught is THE WORST (which i did like 3 times lmao)

somnophilia (with consent if it's in real life) is such a good concept. it's like the feeling you get when you wake up from a wet dream but better lol. but it does have it's drawbacks like morning breath and maybe having sweated through the night 😂

yesss the necklaces are also sooo good for the free use kink. like if you put the necklace on, it lets your partner know that they can just grab you and fuck your brains out whenever they want

for marks i like it for both ways honestly. the sweet one you mentioned and the "mine" aspect but the mine aspect is only for the fics again. i'd never intentionally mark my partner for the world to see that would be mortifying lmao (i did it once accidentally and it really was mortifying :'D)

[tanoraqui]

okay I have to do this today because even I wouldn’t do it after the godforsaken finale airs, and it’s basically my specialty and I did spend like an hour thinking about it last night while washing dishes. Definitely partly inspired by @words-writ-in-starlight​‘s insightful post on everything Supernatural did wrong, and apologies in advance to all the characters for dragging them into anything related to Christian mythology:

Wei Wuxian’s parents die in a house fire when he’s 6(? I refuse to look anything up) months old

Jiangs are a hunter family I guess? That whole disaster of a family dynamic, except WWX dips out at some point to be idk an environmental activist bc at the time, that seems like the larger threat to the whole world. “Mom and Dad went on a hunting trip and they haven’t come back”, “bitch” “jerk”, 2 brothers in a beat-up old car, you know the drill

Jins are also an old hunting family, but more Men of Letters energy - they have a fancy bunker and do research and avoid getting their actual hands dirty. Jiang Yanli ducked out of the active hunting life a few years ago to be happily married to her peacock and settled down with a baby and she’s fine. We’re not going to bother Yanli. She’s safe and happy and doesn’t need to involved in any of this

so, WWX is the demon blood child developing exciting new abilities like telekinesis, mind control, exorcising demons by sheer force of will...etc, and Jiang Cheng is the Righteous Man. Lucifer, Michael, etc.

s1-3 probably proceeds more or less as spn canon...which I more or less remember...by the time they find their parents at the end of s1, Jiang Fengmian is...ugh, we probably shouldn’t kill him offscreen, I mean, we should probably meet him before he dies. I guess. Madam Yu lasts longer because I’m way more interested in her. But we do know that both Jiang parents are totally inclined to fling the boys into a metaphorical or literal escape boat and go hold the line for as long as possible, so...that’s spn energy...

Xue Yang is the one who’s like “fuck yeah, demon powers” and opens the gates of Hell, because I want him to have nice* things

*nice for Xue Yang

from characterization rather than memory, I’m 90% sure that Dean tried to hide his crossroads deal from Sam, but Jiang Cheng does it...better. I think it does come out, though. Right before the hellhounds do.

here’s where it starts to go farther off from spn canon. Jiang Cheng crawls his way out of the grave, gets stalked by a menacing presence that explodes windows for an episode, incidentally can’t find WWX...*Lan Wangji voice* “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition” (a baller line then and a baller line now)...and then the next episode starts with them all awkwardly standing around, and JC is like, “ok well let’s go find my brother then”, and you think there’s going to be an mdzs-riffing JC+LWJ Roadtrip To Find WWX...and they’re immediately attacked by like a dozen demons

in fact, the first time we see WWX in s4 is here, wherein he goes toe to toe with an angel and...holds his own. that’s new and terrifying! also is leading a squad of demons??

because here’s the thing: for the last 3(?) months, there’s been war in hell

because unlike Some People Mooses, upon finding out that his brother’s soul was legally nearly-owned by a crossroads demon, heir-apparent-to-Satan!WWX went, “actually fuck that” and kicked open the door of Hell (metaphorically, not loosing any demons this time) and was like, “who do I have to beat the shit out of to get a specific crossroads contract around here”

this did not work, obv. He didn’t know until it was too late, Lilith had already snapped up the contract, etc. etc.

obviously he also tried to offer himself instead, and got rejected for some reason

Since Jiang Cheng died, however, there’s been a war for control of Hell. Leading one side, Lilith, the Original Babe, who wants to break all 666(?) seals keeping Lucifer bound and in the meantime, break the Righteous Man so Heaven won’t even have Michael’s destined host ready for the Final Battle. Leading the other side, Wei Wuxian, infamous upstart, who wants to rescue the Righteous Man and restore him to life, tear Lilith’s guts out through her nose, and also stop her from doing the Lucifer thing because Wen Qing explained that yes, that’s a Thing, and it’s Bad.

Wen Qing! I’ve decided to combine Bela and Ruby’s roles and let WQ be both the cool badass example of how demon deals can go Bad and the demon deliberately leading our heroes astray for most of s3-4. Wen Qing is a very new demon; she used to be some sort of herbalist/witch but then she sold her soul in a crossroads deal to cure her brother of some lingering illness. 10 years of happiness and then boom, hellhounds. WQ is so obviously competent, though, that they (Lilith, I guess?) immediately offers her a job, with the promise threat that gee, that’s a nice brother you’ve got there, even with his Designated Chronic Health Condition getting all relapse-y. It’d be such a shame if something were to...happen to him...

we find this out at some point in last s3 I guess? some Monster of the Week case involves WN as a witness or something, or possible next victim, and WQ shows up to be A Normal Amount Of Invested In This, while desperately trying to avoid actually interacting with her brother (who thinks she’s dead). YES, the truth comes out; YES there’s a tearful reunion

now in s4, Wen Ning is fine actually, health-wise, bc he maybe made a crossroads deal with Wei Wuxian personally, and Wen Qing may or may not have admitted that she’s supposed to be working for Lilith to get WWX ready to host Lucifer? Or potentially that comes out later, idk. Either way, she’s 100% his top lieutenant in this exciting Hell War they’re waging

[insert whatever the hell (ha) happened plot-wise in s4 of supernatural]

we obviously mix up the relationships, too, bc it’s like, *LWJ internal monologue* I’m too young to remember my brother Lucifer as he was before he Fell, but surely Wei Wuxian is his Heir and Destined Vessel in truth, for he is Charismatic and Charming and Makes Me Feel Things, with his Clearly Feigned Righteous Drive and Compassion for All God’s Creatures and - why does heat keep pooling in the lower abdomen of my vessel when I look at his lips, which I am definitely doing a Normal and Not-Weird Amount - I’m just keeping an eye out for the famed Silver Tongue, and not in any way wondering how it would feel in my own mouth -

it’s actually DEFINITELY plausible for Lucifer to still be released even if our designated Heir Apparent is using his demon powers to his full potential and no one’s lying to each other about their motives. You just need to let Lilith be more scary too, and especially bc by “no one” I mostly mean Wen Qing; the angels are still totally hiding the fact that they, too, want to jumpstart the shit out of this apocalypse.  LWJ decides at the last minute that that’s a bad idea actually, gets himself discorporated to send JC to intercept WWX because he accidentally releases Lucifer, etc. etc. Oh yeah, the boys were def fighting before this, bc JC has actually fairly reasonable concerns about the sort of things WWX is getting up to in his quest to become King of Hell...

SO

...I neither know nor care what happens in s5

it does end with both Lucifer and Michael locked in the cage probably, bc I rather liked that solution. Fuck both of ‘em, basically.

I was toying with the idea that WWX also found Madam Yu in whatever hellish torment she was suffering after making a deal so her idiot son(s) would survive, and she was leading forces for him in the war against Lilith as well. If she came back to life somehow, body and all, it’d probably be compelling if she offered her own body to Michael - bc it’s her lineage! - and we’re all led to believe that she’s, uh, being a bitch and actually wants to risk destroying the world in order to destroy all demons...but then she seizes back control and flings herself/Michael and Lucifer into the Pit, because she’s just That Hardcore?

which means we’d actually have had her around and having characterization for most of s4-5, too, which would be fun

More importantly, it ends with newly crowned King of Hell Wei Wuxian appointing Wen Qing as Queen-Regent and ditching to go on an indefinite honeymoon with his new angel boyfriend (they’re going to fuck for like three weeks straight, then roll up their sleeves and go conquer Heaven in the name of free will), and Jiang Cheng gets to live out his hitherto-unknown-to-himself life’s ambition to be the sugar baby of the Queen of Hell. It’s very Hades/Persephone, except he goes back down to the underworld at least once a month. He gets his own demon squad whom he trains up in all the hunting techniques and it’s gr9. Wen Qing is reforming the crossroads deal process to make it more fair to the humans.

the end

Addenda:

it should go without saying but Jiang Yanli is definitely a recurring character, like, at least once a season there’s a filler episode where they go to Jiang Yanli’s for dinner and have to get along as a family, and also do the much easier job of defeating some sort of terrible demon that gets loose in the bunker and turns the evening into a horror movie. She’s their main research/emotional check-in person, a la Bobby, more often appearing in later seasons when there’s, uhhh, more to emotionally check in about.

Jin Zixuan is actually a perfectly competent hunter; he’s just a priss and we don’t Like him

we like Mianmian, though. Oh, I guess the official Hunter’s Guild or w/e tries to declare WWX a public enemy on account of the whole “King of Hell” thing and she’s like “actually what if you’re morons and assholes?” and joins hte team in s4 or 5? Yeah.

idk how the 3zun disaster happens in this ‘verse but I do encourage it to be happening in slow motion as a recurring subplot for several seasons. NMJ is a hunter, LXC is obv an angel, and JGY is...I wanna say one of the more human monsters, like a vampire? Or, you know, something that could be born from JGS sleeping with someone/something he shouldn’t have

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 01

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

⇁ female reader x hoseok 

⇁ smut, porn star!au

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

⇁ 22.5k

. . .

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳ or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen who you’re dating?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

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

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

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

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

Yes, that would explain it.

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

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

A muscle in your jaw ticks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this?”

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

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

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

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

Everything around you stills.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s specialized in particular—“

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

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

Fuck him. He’s right and you know it. Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman.

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

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well I said no,” you insist stubbornly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, no, but I still fail to—”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s fine! I kept myself busy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that about?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

Jimin treats you to dinner that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs quietly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin likes you for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

“What, you mean anal? Gangbangs?”

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

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

“Apparently.”

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

SEOKJIN : hey!!!!!!!!

SEOKJIN : ???

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

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

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

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

SEOKJIN : or blowing jimmy. either one.

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

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

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

SEOKJIN : oh. nasty.

SEOKJIN : way to ruin my lunch.

SEOKJIN : well. suck down that nut sauce asap

SEOKJIN : cos what i sent you needs your undivided attention

YOU : i’m nasty?? me????

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

SEOKJIN : nutté sauce

SEOKJIN : there. fixed it.

YOU : ...that’s not even a thing

SEOKJIN : well it should be!

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

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

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

SEOKJIN : imagine. during a scene you just yell out

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

YOU : dicks would shrivel up on the spot

SEOKJIN : what? i think it’s brilliant!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The deal is perfect. Almost too perfect.

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

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

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

“What the hell does that even mean?”

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

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

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

“Come again?”

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

Your resounding silence speaks for itself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If I pull it off. Big if."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who am I working with, anyway?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the decision is already made before the call ends.

.

.

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this about nut cream?”

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

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

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

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

“Likewise.” You swallow, mouth dry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ooh. Already on a first name basis?”

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

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

“You ever shoot an insemination scene before?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He seems nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

Reluctantly, you let go of Jimin’s hand.

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

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

“Good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep. Ok. Got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright. Good luck, Hoseok.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A door creaks open, signalling your onscreen husband’s return home.

To your horror, you find that you’re unable to move, as if your limbs had forgotten their primary function.

Before the scene had started, you had envisioned yourself throwing yourself into the arms of your loving husband and welcoming him home with a shower of kisses and words of affection. You had internally rehearsed it, had even thought of what you could say to him between pecks, but the reality is far removed from what you had practiced.

“Darling?” Hoseok’s voice is soft but loud enough for you to hear him over the angry sounds of boiling water. The vowels he uses are rounded, different from the bright pep in his tone from earlier. 

You want to respond but your tongue feels like lead, too heavy in your mouth to articulate and form the proper reply. What are you supposed to call him, anyway? Honey? Hoseok? A nickname derived from his name? What do newlywed spouses call each other? Why couldn’t you give this more thought before the cameras began rolling?

Panic balloons inside you, threatening to burst. For a terrifying and mortifying second, you think that you’ve gone and ruined everything. The muscles in your shoulders bunch up and you half-expect the director to shout ‘CUT!’, give you a public scolding for missing your cue and berate you for your overall ineptitude.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around your middle before you have time to agonize any further. Just as you suspected, his arms are strong, the lean muscles flexing as he readjusts his hold around your waist. What you don’t expect, however, is the unadulterated warmth he radiates. His body burns hot; even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you, his warmth seeps through. But it’s strangely comfortable, not unlike basking in the afternoon sun during the last days of summer. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

With your back turned to him, you can’t be sure, but you imagine the pout playing at his lips. He tucks his chin in the crook of your shoulder. If he feels any awkwardness, he doesn’t let it show.

Miraculously, your mouth seems to be in working order again. It takes you a few seconds too long to find the appropriate answer, but it finally comes before the director can cut in to make any remarks.

“If I turn around right now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you,” you explain. “And - I don’t want to ruin our dinner.”

Just to keep up the pretense, you add a handful of spaghetti into the pot of water.

Hoseok lets out a hum from behind you. He’s standing close enough for you to feel the vibrations low in his throat.

“I hate it,” he says after a stretch of silence.

You pout. “What? My cooking? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, silly. I hate -” he sighs, buries his face in your neck before looking back up so the camera can capture his expression. “I hate not being with you. I missed this.”

He hugs you from behind before kissing your neck. It starts off innocuous - his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the column of your throat. Quickly, however, his mouth lingers on your skin.

“Ah - don’t. I’m cooking!” you shriek when his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot under your jaw. Your protests are half-hearted and go by unacknowledged. The pot of pasta could overflow right now and no one would care, least of all you.

Hoseok noses your neck while he tightening his grip around your waist, the movement bringing his hips flush against your lower back. You give the pot in front of you a very unenthusiastic stir, attention focused instead on the way his lips tenderly skim the surface of your skin, testing and teasing. The sensation feels nice - and keeps your mind off of the several cameras directed your way.

“But I went all day missing my princess,” he sighs, open mouthed against your neck. “Spent all day thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm.” He gives your exposed shoulder a peck. Then another. “Thought about your cute little laugh.”

His line catches you off guard. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Porn is often crude and to the point. You’re used to men complimenting your body parts or praising your skills in bed. You’d never minded, either. But Hoseok’s choice of words make you eager in a different way.

“What else?”

“Well, your cooking, for sure. Without you I’d be eating out of ramyeon packets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

You let out a snort.

“That’s true. Your cooking is so horrible it’s offensive.”

“Hey now. Don’t be mean.” He pokes your cheek before pinching your chin to turn your head towards him. “I can cook a decent omelet.”

Hoseok’s a good few inches taller than you so you have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes. The slight discomfort barely registers. You’re too transfixed by the way he stares at you. It’s hard to place the expression because you’ve never seen it on a fellow actor before. Normally, the men you work with stare you down with hungry and lustful intent, but there’s none of that in Hoseok’s gaze.

The expression on his face cannot be described as innocent, either. He licks his lips, drawing your attention to the pretty lines of his mouth delicately curved into a smile.

“I missed the way you feel in my arms.” His voice sounds deeper, this time. “I missed holding you close to me. Kissing you. Reminding you how much I love you. I missed the look in your eyes when - “

“When?”

He smirks. “You sure you want to hear it? What if you can’t keep your hands off of me after? I don’t want to be held responsible for soggy pasta.”

“Hoseok,” you whine, one of your hands reaching down to slap at the hold around your stomach. 

He tightens his hold around you and your breath hitches, suddenly all too aware of how firm his body feels behind you. The smirk on his face widens as he leans forward to confess his next words.

“I was thinking about how I miss the look on your face whenever I make your pussy sloppy with my cum.”

“Hoseok!”

One moment he’s crooning sweet words of affection, the next he’s spitting out filth. The quick back-and-forth gives you whiplash but you can’t say you dislike it. Unlike the tired and overused clichéd porn scenarios you’ve filmed in the past, Hoseok’s unpredictable behavior has the advantage of keeping you on your toes.

“You missed it too, hm?” He kisses your neck, lips soft and warm. “Kept thinking about how pretty you sound. So, so pretty. Especially when I give you what you want.”

“How would you know what I want?” You turn your head forwards so you can pretend to check up on the cooking pasta. “You were away all day.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How would I know?” he parrots back, his tone sweet and mocking. Something about it sends tingles down your spine and has you standing up straighter. “I always know what my pretty wife wants. I know because your body can’t lie to me.”

His hands wander, one of them inching up the material of your frilly apron to reach between your breasts. The movement is slow enough for a camera to zoom in and follow its trail. Hoseok rests his hand on your left breast and gives it a squeeze.

“See?” He repeats the action. “Your heart’s racing like crazy.”

You swallow audibly, finding it hard to come up with a witty riposte.

He continues with a chuckle, “You can’t deny it, can you? Your body’s too honest for your own good. It’s okay. You don’t have to say you missed me. I know.”

His self-assured way of talking makes it easier for you to react. This - the cockiness, the playfulness - you’re familiar with.

You roll your eyes and continue to give the pot in front of you a few additional stirs only for your breath to hitch when he starts to grind his hips against your lower back in time with your stirs.

Fuck is your only coherent thought. He rolls his hips so well it’s impossible not to imagine them doing something else. Your bottom lip grows numb from how hard you bite it.

“Of course I missed you.” You keep your tone as light as possible, determined not to show that his words and actions affect you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow. He removes his hands from around you but keeps his front pressed against your back. He smiles again, dimples poking through.

“You don’t sound convinced... That’s fine.” It sounds like the beginning of a challenge and you soon learn why.

His nimble fingers play with the knot of your apron and you tense, expecting him to make quick work of your clothes and dive straight into dessert, so to speak. Once again, he surprises you by leaving the apron alone, hands falling to his sides.

His knees hit the floor, the noise startling you. Before you have the chance to truly react, he’s quick to pull your hips backwards until your back is arched. The sudden change in position forces you to adjust your stance so as to keep your balance.

“Hoseok?” you start to question but he cuts you off with a tut and light smack to your ass.

“You just keep your eye on dinner like you were doing before.” His fingers play with the hem of your short dress, stretching the fabric until it bunches up around your hips and leaves your lacy thong on display. “You can do that, right?”

Flustered by the position he’s maneuvered you into, with your hips thrust back obscenely, legs splayed wide and pussy on show, you grip the wooden spoon in your hand with more force than necessary. “It’s just pasta. I can manage.”

Maybe you sound less indifferent than intended because Hoseok seems more amused than offended by your feinted nonchalance. He barks out a laugh, his hands spreading the meat of your cheeks aside to get a better view of your lace-covered bits.

Privately, you wish you could witness his reaction. If there’s anything that turns you on, it’s knowing how much someone else wants you. If feels good to know that you’re wanted and desired. Even if fucking is part of your job description, the act needs to be mutually enjoyable for you to be completely satisfied.

“Sure.” The lilt in his voice is so sweet that it borders on condescending. “While you do that, I think I’ll have my appetizer.”

It’s corny, overused and a little degrading - exactly the type of one-liner you’d ordinarily find in porn - but he gives you no time to call him out for it. As soon as he’s done talking, he wags his tongue out and drags it across the red lace, and the repeated up and down motions quickly dampen your panties.

You notice with great frustration that he takes care to avoid your clit, focusing instead on licking broad stripes over slit and, to your surprise, around your rim.  He doesn’t stop until your underwear drips with the accumulation of your essence and his saliva. The soaked lace rubs against you, the rough texture adding pressure to your most sensitive zones, until you can’t tell if the extra sensation is a blessing or a curse. Your hips jerk forward every so often, unsure if you’d rather lean into or escape his torturous games. Because as amazing as Hoseok’s tongue feels, you know your body well enough to be able to tell that this particular tempo won’t bring you to your peak.

An appetizer, he had called it. That’s exactly what the teasing ministrations feel like - a small sampling before the main course. It’s satisfying and maddening in its own way. Good, but not enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

He unearths himself from your dripping core, chin shiny with your juices.

“Keep focus,” he instructs as he slots two fingers inside of you. You’re wet enough that they slide in without too much difficulty, the stretch making your stomach clench. “I thought you said you knew how to cook pasta.”

Against your will, you force yourself to focus on the bubbling water in front of you. As much as you want to push your hips back and ride his fingers until you’re pushed over the edge, you can’t take the humiliation of messing up pasta - even if it is for the sake of a porn scenario.

It’s fucking pasta! You have to be seriously inept to mess up such a simple dish...

But what should have been an effortless task becomes more challenging than expected. Hoseok refuses to go easy on you. If anything, your stubborn silence is all the motivation he needs to thrust his fingers inside of you harder, curving them at an angle that makes your knees wobble. You struggle to keep any incriminating noises at bay but despite your best efforts, several muffled moans slip out one after the other.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the logical side of you points out how dangerous all of this is. What if, during your impending orgasm, your body seizes up and knocks the boiling water everywhere during the process? You quickly switch off the gas stove at the thought. Better be safe than sorry.

Just then, Hoseok adds his tongue to the mix, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. You bite back a curse as the wooden spoon slips from your hold and clatters to the floor.

“Ah fu - Oh God,” you stutter, hands holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life.

You’ve been eaten out God knows how many times in your life, but not many have instinctively known what really gets you going. Hoseok laps at your core, tongue collecting the moisture that seeps through the fabric of your ruined panties, while his fingers scissor you open for his cock.

Your stomach clenches as you imagine how well he’d fill you up. Who the hell would ever want pasta for dinner when Hoseok could feed you his cock instead? Definitely not you, that’s for sure.

It’s easy to picture it. All he’d need to do is stand up, unzip his pants and spear you open with a practiced roll of his hips. Maybe he’d make you toss a salad while he fucks you from behind, slapping your ass whenever you forget to keep stirring the ingredients together. Or perhaps he’d let you ride his dick on the kitchen floor, too impatient to make it to a more comfortable surface.

Your imagination knows no bounds. Once you start, you can’t stop thinking of more lascivious scenarios, each one more daring and debauched than the last. The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and still, you ache for more.

Hoseok pulls away from the apex of your thighs and snorts, the sound pulling you out of your depraved thoughts. The pace of his thrusting slows down without stopping completely, his fingers still pressed deep within you. Your arms tremble as they try to keep you upright, knuckles white from the strength of your grip around the counter’s edge. You exhale shakily.

A whine works its way into your voice. “Why - why’d you stop?”

Ignoring your protests, he pops his fingers out of you and indulges in one last lick of your swollen pussy, before gathering to his feet. He rolls down your dress back over your bum and peers over your shoulder, acting as nothing had ever happened.

“Thought you said you’d take care of dinner, hm?” Hoseok has the gall to hum in disappointment.

Your mouth opens in outrage. “You!”

Hoseok pouts. “I thought we said you wouldn’t blame me for any soggy pasta.”

“You’re impossible,” you say without any real heat to your words.

“But you love me that way.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss you, lips sticky and warm. You follow the pace he sets as best you can, unaccustomed to the way he takes his time - like you’re a delicacy that demands to be savored and not gulped down. On-screen kisses are usually rushed, messy, with too much tongue. They’re a scripted affair, more for show than out of real affection. When men tuck back your hair behind your ear or palm your cheek, it’s only to better angle your face for the camera.

There is something intimate about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Inwardly, you can't help but admire his acting skills. There’s something tender about the way he handles you that’s distinctly different from any of your previous onscreen partners. Sure, you’ve shot vanilla sex scenes before, but never of this variety. None of the male actors’ performances have made you wish, even fleetingly, foolishly, that the scene was real.

Hoseok pulls up for air before your mind can wander off completely, his panting mouth a hairsbreadth away. Lips touching but not quite.

Blearily, you blink your eyes open. You’re close enough that your noses brush against one another, your breaths mingling together. Hoseok’s eyes remain closed throughout, like he doesn’t want the moment to end. He looks so content that you can’t bring yourself to do anything else but melt further into his embrace, gaze drinking in the minute details of his face - like the tiny moles dotting his cheekbone and upper lip and the pretty curve of his eyes.

“And cut!”

You both jump away from each other, startled. For a second there, the storyline you’d been instructed to follow had slipped from your mind. You’re unsure if the lapse in judgement is good or bad but you don’t let the question linger in your thoughts. You’ll have plenty of time to dissect your performance at a later time.

“Good, good. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I don’t think anyone has any objections?” Director Ryu claps his hands. “Fifteen minute break sound good everyone? Then we’ll relocate to the bedroom to shoot the next part.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the crew members. Chairs and various other equipment scrape the floor as the personnel prepare to migrate to the other room for filming. Jimin’s gaze meets yours briefly but all he can do is smile weakly in your direction before he’s ordered to help push some of the equipment down the hall.

Someone comes up to you with a bottle of water while another steps closer to blot the beads of sweat near your hairline and reapply a layer of lipstick. The make-up artist knits her brows in concentration until she’s satisfied with the touch-ups. She then moves on to Hoseok, make-up palette and brush at the ready, and grumbles loudly about the sticky residue covering his face. You hear Hoseok bellow a laugh, the sound so infectious that even the make-up artist joins in. 

You sip your water through a straw, careful not to smudge your freshly applied lipstick, and check your phone for any missed messages.

“Was all of that okay?”

“Hm?” You look up and are surprised to see Hoseok stare at you expectantly. “I, uh, know some girls aren’t into ass play. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before jumping the gun but I figured - since you said there wasn’t anything major you were adverse to filming...”

His voice trails off.

“I liked it.” The admission is an easy one. “It did take me by surprise, but - I don’t have any complaints.”

“Ah, really?” Hoseok’s mouth corners upturn in relief. “That’s good to know. I was thinking - for the next scene - what if - I mean, are you okay with calling me Daddy?”

You tilt your head as you mull over the proposition.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not - you don’t have to. But listening to Director Ryu go on earlier made me think of something we could do. I think it fits well with the general idea. What do you think?”

“I’m fine with it.” Using the title doesn’t make you squeamish so you shrug in compliance. It’s not the first you’ve had to incorporate a daddy kink into the scene and it likely won’t be the last. You don’t see why you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do it with Hoseok. “I’ll follow your lead like I’ve been doing.”

It’s only as you’re following him towards the bedroom that you recall that you’ve yet to get to the crux of the scene - the damned impregnation kink. Even though you’re considerably less nervous than you’d been an hour or two ago, the thought of begging someone you barely know for something so intimate makes your stomach flip-flop. You don’t even have unprotected sex with Jimin and he’s your boyfriend.

Speaking of Jimin, you try to sneak in a peck or two before filming but Director Ryu intercepts you before you can make a beeline to where Jimin’s stationed behind a camera.

“How are you feeling?” The overhead light reflects off his round glasses and makes it impossible to hold eye contact unless you want to become semi-permanently blind.

“Good---”

“Wonderful. Well, we’ve positioned cameras here, here, and over there. There’ll be another camera man who’ll film with a handheld camera for closeups. Just keep that in mind. I know we’re giving you free-range to do what you feel is best and most natural but I’d hate to ask you to re-shoot because the camera couldn’t capture the both of you properly.”

You nod and he continues, “Also - please remember that you’re acting as a horny young married couple. I remember at that age I was up for anything, you get what I’m saying? People think just because you put a ring on your finger the sex automatically becomes stale. Fuck that. Show people married couples are freaks in the sheet.”

“Uh... Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He claps a hand over your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Freaks in the sheet? What did he expect you to do? Try out all the sex positions in the Kama Sutra?

“What did he want now?” Hoseok leans over to whisper once you’re seated comfortably on the bed. You’re hoping the mics don’t pick up the conversation but would rather not take the risk of being overheard bad-mouthing the director.

Shrugging, you say, “Just that this scene should be spicier.”

Hoseok raises his brow, lips quirking into a smirk. “That so?”

The same cockiness you’d caught a glimpse of during your escapade in the kitchen is back and the memory you associate it with makes the back of your neck prickle with heat. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

Thankfully Director Ryu interrupts before Hoseok has the chance to fluster you further. You follow each of the director’s voiced directives until you’re comfortably seated on Hoseok’s lap, dress hitched around your waist because of how far your knees are spread on either side of Hoseok’s thighs. There’s a quick, last minute adjustment as Director Ryu ensures that the camera in the left corner picks up on everything it’s supposed to.

Satisfied, he lets you take the reins from there, then gives the cameras the signal to begin rolling.

You don’t waste a moment, taking his earlier commentary to heart. It’s your turn to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s golden skin, leaving faint traces of rouge behind like an artist signing their own painting. You stop a few times to admire your work. Lip prints and lavender bite marks color his skin and the sight awakens a possessive streak you didn’t know you had.

Your enthusiasm to mark him up gets a little out of hand.

"Mhm." Hoseok grunts when you lick over a sensitive spot under his jaw. "Slow down, princess. There's no rush. We have all night."

He cups his chin between his hands so you have no choice but to relent and direct your gaze up at him. You’re pleased to see that he’s not completely indifferent to your touch; despite his instructions to take it slow, the smoldering look in his eyes tell a different story.

He runs the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the pink flesh no doubt swollen. You take the digit in your mouth, unprompted, and run your tongue against its underside, wishing that his cock could fill your mouth instead.

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, not quite a growl but close.

"And I intend to take my time with you." The look he levels you with promises a night full of mind-numbing pleasure. Ribbons of heat curl around the base of your spine. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do," you agree, words muffled around the thumb you refuse to let go of.

You take a hold of his wrist and free your mouth, only to quickly replace it with his forefinger and middle finger. The stretch of two digits makes you moan lewdly.

Hoseok’s eyes darken. He lets you play for a few more seconds before he takes back control, his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. You swallow down a gag, but his fingers don’t let you rest for long. He drags them over the flat of your tongue, watching as spit dribbles down past the sides of your mouth, and repeats the motion, pumping into your mouth steadily like he would a cock.

As nice as it feels to be filled with his fingers, whether in your cunt or mouth, you’re ready for more. Subconsciously, your hips grind down in his lap, shifting this way and that until you’re perfectly seated over his hardened length.

Drool is pushed out of your mouth as Hoseok squeezes a third fingers in with the other two. You suck harder, hoping that all your efforts will spur Hoseok into finally fucking you. The knowledge that he has to, at one point or another, keeps you from whining and begging pathetically for his cock. You can exercise patience if you put your mind to it; you’re sure of it. 

Your on-screen husband decides to test that resolve.

His other hand starts to wander south, his fingers toying with the short hem of your dress that’s been rucked up even higher with all your rocking and grinding. The movement of your hips slow, your brain unable to keep up with the stimuli coming in all directions.

A crack resounds in the room, the sharp sound startling you more than the sting that accompanies it. Hoseok’s palm rubs over the heated area, only inflaming it further.

“And who told you you could stop?”

The second slap is notably harsher than the first, and your hips automatically lurch forward hoping perhaps to lessen the impact of the sting.

You know he doesn’t expect a verbal answer; his second hand keeps your mouth plugged up, making any attempt at talking unintelligible. It doesn’t stop you from trying, only because you know the muffled protest are greatly appreciated amongst viewers. And if the way Hoseok’s digs his fingers into your smarting ass cheek is any indicator, you’re confident that he also enjoys your squirming and messy display.

“Keep moving, princess. I need both your holes nice and wet.”

The way his voice dips an octave makes your stomach twist in arousal. You long to tell him that you’re sufficiently wet enough for him to slide his cock inside right away but all you manage are pitiful garbled words.

He raises an eyebrow at your delayed response and your hips move before he can smack the globes of your ass for a third time. You have an inkling he’ll only hit harder with the intention of leaving marks of his own all over your skin.

It’s a careful balancing act, but you figure it out as you go. Bounce too fast and the fingers in your mouth will make you gag. Move too slowly for his liking and he won’t hesitate to add to the collection of handprints on your ass.

You lose track of how long he makes you play this game. Your mind focuses on sucking while keeping your jaw slack enough to accomadate the width of three digits. Drool pools down your chin, and you’re certain whatever the make-up artist had done to your lips is now ruined. Worse off are your panties. At the stage they’re at now, you’ll have no choice but to throw them out. Hoseok’s pants might need be as unsalveagable as your thong, you think inwardly, judging by the large, dark wet spot you’re currently sitting on.

“Mmh, good girl.” 

He gently slides his fingers out, strings of saliva attached. He hums in satisfaction at the lewd sight and rubs his fingers across your swollen lips and shiny chin, spreading the fluids and what’s left of your lipstick over your mouth. You swallow, mouth sore from being used roughly for so long.

“This hole is sufficiently wet, I think,” he appraises, eyelashes fluttering before he casts a long look down your body until it reaches where you’re seated on his clothed erection. “Let’s check this one too.”

The way he smirks at you but makes no move to check himself lets you know that he expects you to do the work.

You let your hands trail down your body slowly, cupping your breasts as you do, enjoying his hooded gaze and the way his cock twitches beneath you a bit too much. When you reach the hem of your dress, you lift your hips up to pull the fabric up to your navel giving an unobstructed view of your lace-covered pussy.

Hoseok stare intensifies but you don’t feel any embarrassment from the scrutiny. “Well you certainly look ripe.”

His fingers toy with the delicate string of lace around your hips. He lets the material snap against your skin a few times before he grows bored or impatient with his own game and gives the lace a harsh yank. It tears easily and the leftover scraps fall into his lap.

“... But just to be sure -” His hands grip your waist and manhandle you onto your hands and knees. Your head spins from how suddenly he’s moved you around to his liking that your arms give out and you fall face first into the clean smelling bed sheets. “Gotta give my favorite hole of yours a better look.”

His hands hoist your hips at a higher angle so that your soaked center is visible for the cameras to pan onto. Hoseok slides in two fingers easily, then a third. Loud, obscene noises echo in the otherwise quiet room, noises that are quickly joined by your unabashed moans of pleasure.

Your core is on fire. Hoseok’s fingers are just as good as you remember them to be. No, better. The three fingers pump into you in measured strokes, the drag slow enough to keep you dangling over the edge without pushing you over.

Hoseok spanks your ass, hissing between his teeth as you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining your inner walls hugging his cock instead. 

“Christ. You’re always such a soft, wet little thing down here,” he croons in dulcet tones. “I could play with you all day.”

You thrust your hips back, shameless.

“Please! Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I just - please - I nuh, need it. Need your cock fucking me full. I’ll take it so good, you know I will. Want you to - please! Daddy, I need your cum.”

“Shit.”

He fumbles in his haste to flip you onto your back. He crawls over your body, and you watch fascinated as he dives down to kiss you like a man starved. He looks almost feral, pupils so dilated the brown of his eyes is almost gone.

Heat blooms in your stomach as he kisses you deeply. The press of his lips against yours renders you a little less coherent as time ticks on, every brush of his tongue making you a little more dizzy with want.

Everything about him burns. It feels like being kissed by the sun itself. Every caress, every lick and nip leaves you feverish all over, like your drunk off his touch.

"Let me," he says, pinching the zipper of your dress between his thumb and index finger.

You wrap your hand around his and guide his movements. His gaze never leaves yours and it makes shivers run down your back. Even though you're the one controlling his movements for the time being, the look in his eyes makes it abundantly clear that the control you wield is only temporary.

When your dress finally falls open, you try not to preen too much under the reverent look that falls over Hoseok’s face. Your back arches a little off the bed, pert breasts thrust towards him - an appealing offer he doesn’t dare refuse.

Hoseok circles a thumb around your nipple, rubbing and flicking until it hardens into a stiff peak.

You wonder, distantly, how this looks like from the outside looking in. The man in front of you is a stranger in all senses of the word. Yet the way he touches you - like there are years of built-up affection behind every gesture - makes you second guess everything you know.

"Fuckin' love your tits.” He sighs, awe reflected in the dark of his eyes. "Love playing with them. Love how wet it gets you, how hungry your little pussy gets."

"Please,” you mewl, his words igniting a new wave of heat. It rolls over your body, leaving no extremity untouched. You burn from the inside out with raw desire.

You squeeze your own breasts in a bid to get him to touch you more. Hoseok merely chuckles, finding your desperation entertaining. One of his hands reach down between you to play with the wetness that clings to your core like a second skin and it takes everything inside of you not to rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"What is it, princess?" His lips quirk into a smirk like he already knows the answer. "You're looking quite needy. How did you manage to hold it in all this time?"

“Stop teasing,” you growl, the lack of friction making you irritable. "I need your cock. And why - why do you have so many fucking clothes on?”

He chuckles, chest vibrating in amusement.

“Take them off,” you insist. Then, you grudgingly tack on a “Please” for good measure.

As hot as Hoseok looks like in his “work clothes”, he looks infinitely better naked, you decide as he chucks off his button-down shirt and gets started on his leather belt. With each new piece of clothing that gets discarded, the anticipation building inside of you skyrockets.

You take a moment to soak in his lithe figure, not bothering to hide how affected you are by the view. He’s nicely sculpted; you can tell right away that he takes care of himself. Swimming or dancing maybe? You hesitate between the two. His muscles are lean, nothing like the bulging biceps and thick forearms typical of the stereotypical gym rat.

Hoseok’s dick is, unsurprisingly, as pretty as the rest of him. It’s long and curved, a prominent vein running along its underside. The thatch of pubic hair that rests above his dick is neatly trimmed, the dark hair contrasting with the tan skin of his abdomen and the rosy hue of his erect length. Your eyes swoop down his thighs, licking your lips unwittingly at the alluring sight presented to you.

“Daddy,” you say, the whine in your voice unmistakable. “Want your cock.”

For a brief moment you’re tricked into believing he’s given in to your demand, but find yourself disappointed when he contents himself with rubbing his hardened member between your thighs, the glide slippery thanks to the copious amount of your essence that’s pooled there.

“Like this?” Hoseok asks, tone too sweet to be anything but mocking. The head of his cock bumps into your swollen bundle of nerves one, two, three times. You keen, your hips canting upwards in a bid to get more friction. “Want to rut against me until you get nice and creamy?”

He uses his right hand to spread your slick lower lips so that he can nestle his cock snuggly between them. He rolls his hips, the undulations fluid and dirty, and smirks at how you moan brokenly beneath him.

Your stomach clenches. “Need it in me."

"You'll get it," he promises after kissing you sloppily, lips sucking on your tongue. His breath is ragged but his voice steady, firm. "I'll give you everything you need. Make you cum so many times you know who owns this sweet pussy."

He speaks so surely, carries himself with so much confidence, that in the moment you can't help but believe him. The line between staged and reality blurs and you find yourself nodding eagerly, begging him as best you can to give you what you want.

The first tentative push of his dick wipes you clean of coherency. He slowly eases himself into you, reaching forward to lace his fingers with yours. It’s - more intimate than you expected. He squeezes your hand tightly in his when he finally manages to bury his entire length inside of you.

“Perfect.” He kisses the side of your temple before drawing back, his hard cock dragging deliciously against you. With a fluid hip thrust, he slides back in and you feel the stretch moreso this time around. The curvature of his cock has him pressing up against your walls in a way that robs you of breath.

"Daddy! Hh - ah, oh God. You're too b-big."

"Mhm, that's right. Daddy's fat cock is splitting you open. I'll plug you up with it later so none of my cum will leak out."

Every time he pulls back, your pussy clamps down tightly around him, unwilling to be empty even for a second.

Hoseok’s nostrils flare in arousal. He grabs your left tit and squeezes, using it as a hold to better fuck into you. With his body hovering above yours, his hand staking claim of your breast, and his cock drilling into you, you have nowhere to go. Pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but take everything he delivers, you wrap your legs around his waist and moan.

"Daddy's gonna fuck some babies into you,” he rasps, his eyes dark pools of lust. "Gonna breed your sweet pussy over and over. You'll be so full of my cum that you'll be pregnant with my babies for sure."

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes - oh my nhhg.” You sob as Hoseok drives his cock into you with more force. While the piston of his hips isn’t rushed, he pulls out to the tip only to slam back in to the hilt every time. The stretch burns in a good way and the sound of your moans are rivaled only by the wet, obscene sounds from your coupling.

"Fuck. Your cunt just - shit." He cracks down a hand against your ass and you shriek, not expecting it. "You're so tight, holy shit."

"Want it. Want you to fuck me good."

"I will," he says lowly, the promise reverberating deep in his chest. "I'll fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Fill you up so much, you'll be bloated with it."

And it should freak you out, the imagery he paints with his words, but the thought of laying there and him fucking you so well that you won't be able to feel your legs has you gushing out more wetness.

"Mmmh.” Maybe he can feel how soaked you are because he comments, “This is my favorite hole of yours, princess. Always so fuckin' drenched. I bet we’ll have to throw out the sheets again." He chuckles. "You must be hungry for it, right? I made you wait so long. No wonder your pussy is clenching like that. It needs a big, fat cock to milk dry."

“I missed it,” you cry, body skidding a little higher up the duvet each time he fucks into you. Your eyelashes flutter, lids heavy. It’s hard to concentrate, let alone form words, when your brain feels like complete mush. “I - I need your cum. Daddy, please.”

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I've got you. Daddy will feed your cute pussy his cock."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Love you," he murmurs. It’s a quiet confession, lost somewhere in between the mattress creaks, the loud slaps of Hoseok’s hips slamming against yours, and the string of whimpers and groans pulled from your throat. It’s quiet but you hear it.

One of your hands reach up to pull him down by the neck so that your lips meet. He kisses you open-mouthed. It’s a filthy kiss, one that makes you moan into his mouth. You’re certain that if you had been standing your knees would have wobbled.

When you let up for air, Hoseok’s staring you down, his red-bitten lips plump and shiny.

"Love this pussy. So sweet and wet for me. Always for fucking swollen, like it's waiting to get a pounding. Love that. Love how eager you are to be bred by my thick cock."

The impregnation kink is - a bit much. You've never really imagined having kids, at least not anytime soon. You can’t even keep your plants alive for fuck’s sake.

But the way he suggests it is nothing like what you had imagined. His suggestions are - vulgar and primal. Like the urge to fuck you full of his cum is biological and he can’t smother it.

For a moment, you let yourself entertain the thought of being his breeding bitch - of laying on your back and letting him fuck load after load of cum inside you until your pussy physically can't accommodate any more. Of not having any other worries or thoughts but take his cock every moment of the day.

"You just got tighter.” He curses under his breath, voice thick with arousal.  "Such a warm little hole. Taking everything I give it. You'd take anything if it meant getting bred by me, right?"

“Yes, yes,” you chant, pleasure coiling inside of you. “Give me more! I need it."

"Shit. You can't handle more, princess," he tries to reason. "Daddy needs to be gentle with you. Your hole is so small, it'll hurt if I go harder."

"Daddy promised to fuck me.” You whine, uncaring if you sound too bratty and demanding. "B- Breed my hole. It's yours. Puh-please use me."

"God." Hoseok groans, his features twisting in what looks to be pain or pleasure. With tremendous effort he pulls himself out of you and your eyes widen in panic.

“What? Daddy why? I thought—”

He shushes you, reaching somewhere overhead to grab a fluffy pillow. "Just wait a sec, okay? There you go.”

The pillow is placed underneath your hips, keeping them elevated. When Hoseok takes his glistening cock in hand and directs it back in, you both moan in unison.

"Oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah,” you gasp as your mind goes blank with pleasure. The new angle is heaven on earth. It’s almost too much, too quick, but Hoseok’s firm grip on your hips prevents you from alleviating the pressure.

"Take it." He grunts, brows knit together. Every powerful snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, your breath hitch. Without his hands keeping you pinned down, your head would have collided with the headboard by now. "Be a good princess and take your fucking."

He gains momentum, the new angle facilitating the slide of his cock. He drags the flat of his palm down your thigh and takes a hold of your knee before hoisting it up over your shoulder. The stretch burns the back of your calves but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even find the words to complain.

When you glance up, it’s to fall upon the sight of Hoseok brushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, his skin dewy from the film of perspiration wrapped around his body. Beads of sweat trickle down his heaving chest but he chooses to forgo a quick break. On the contrary, he pushes in deeper like he’s determined to carve out a permanent space for his cock.

"Just gonna keep you here,” he huffs, his eyes the shade of cloudless night sky. “Everyday I'll fuck my cum back inside of you so that you'll always stay full. Want to fuck you forever. Don't want this to end."

"Want it too," you sob, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. "Want you to keep me full forever. Ugh - oh fuck! Hoseok- I'm—"

"You gonna cum around my cock, princess?" He angles his hips downwards, relishing in the wanton cry it elicits. "Gonna give me everything?"

"I'm yours," you profess, jaw slack with pleasure.

It doesn’t take much more for the orgasm to crash over you, Hoseok fucks you through it, groaning as your inner walls spasm around him. He breathes out curses, lip drawn tight between his lips, and doesn’t wait for the last waves of your orgasm to abate to chase after his own end.

In the throes of your pleasure, it doesn’t register then that Hoseok has been holding back all this time. If you thought he had been fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He growls and bends forward, forcing your leg to stretch even more, and pushes in and out of you at a pace that makes you scream.

You don’t even have time to come down from your first high that you’re already thrown towards your second. Hoseok plugs your mouth up using two digits, his fingers a firm pressure against your tongue. Your eyes roll back, too overwhelmed from the feeling of being stuffed on both ends.

“God, I could fuck your holes all fucking day.” His rhythm begins to falter as the pressure inside of him grows, his movements frantic and less controlled than they’ve ever been. “How about that? I’ll fuck my princess’ mouth properly next time, stretch it out nicely. Then you’ll let me have your ass, hm?”

Shit, shit, you whimper around his fingers, spit bubbling down the sides on your mouth. It’s scary knowing you have no way to stop the oncoming destruction.

“Yeah, I can tell you love that. You’re gonna cream my dick again, aren’t you?” You can’t tell if the sound he makes is a laugh or a grunt. All you know is that you feel like you’re about to burst. “C’mon, be a good girl and milk my cum out. You better get every last drop.”

There’s an underlying threat in his command. You do your best to obey his words, not wanting to disappoint.

Hoseok pushes his cock in as deep as it can go and grinds his hips into yours. His cock reaches so deep that you swear he might hit your cervix. And considering the nature of the scene you’re portraying, maybe that’s what he intends.

He swipes his fingers through the mess of your cunt, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. He swirls some of your fluids over it before giving it a sharp pinch that makes you cry out. Your hips fly off the pillow but Hoseok is quick to pin you back down. The never-ending drag of his cock along your walls paired with the rough ministrations to your clit is all you need for the pressure inside you to snap.

Above you, Hoseok moans, low and throaty, as he finally dumps rope after rope of warm cum inside of you. He throws his head back, exposing the collar of purplish bruises you sucked onto his skin earlier. Something about the view satisfies you immensely - not that you’d dare voice these thoughts out loud.

Hoseok’s strength gives out and he sags onto your body, his breath warm against your skin. He feels hot, like a furnace, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable. It’s almost like having a personal heating pad; the soreness of your muscles melts away with each passing moment.

Much to your displeasure, your post-coital bliss doesn’t last forever. He's given the signal to pull out and obeys, careful to keep your hips propped up so that his load of cum won’t slosh out. He’s still got a role to play, after all, and the end goal is to get you pregnant.

A cameraman walks forward to zoom in on your swollen and used pussy - physical proof of your exploits. The haze lifts. You become more aware of the people standing on the outskirts of your vision, lighting or sound equipment in hand.

“And that’s a wrap!” Director Ryu calls, his cheeks stretched to accommodate the width of his grin. “Good job everybody!”

You breathe out a sigh, glad your day is finally over. Seokjin walks up to you with a robe for you to throw on and you nod in thanks, slipping the satin gown over your sweaty body.

Around you, the staff start milling about, putting the equipment away and gathering their belongings. You pay them no heed, your attention focused on getting changing into showering and changing into comfortable clothes. You’re in the middle of taming your messy hair when your stomach erupts into growls, reminding you of your hungry state. What you’d do for a big slice of piz—

You remember your date with Jimin and speed up, not wanting to make him wait around for you any longer. It’s not hard to spot him - he’s waiting outside of your dressing room, can of coke in hand.

Something about his smile feels off.

Maybe it’s the way his eye corners don’t crease or the slight strain the curve of his mouth that betray him.

Your expression falls. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing, don’t worry,” he says after a short, tense moment of silence. The look on your face must have reflected your feelings of doubt because he proceeds by reaching out and pulling you tight against him. Pressed up against his shirt, you can smell the faintest trace of the fabric softener he uses and its scent, familiar and sweet, mollifies you somewhat. “You did amazing today, baby. As usual.”

The compliment you’ve been waiting for makes the sides of your lips rise automatically. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Almost too well.” He hums, one of his hands stroking the back of your head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, “ you admit. “The results wouldn’t have been half as good if Hoseok hadn’t been my partner. He’s new in the game but he doesn’t act like it, does he?”

“He doesn’t, no.” Jimin agrees. “He’s... he’s something, alright.”

Your grin widens. All your worrying had been for nothing, in the end. The shoot had gone without a hitch, all of the set members coming up to you with praises of a job well done. You can’t recall the last time any of your performances had elicited such a response post-filming. Even Director Ryu looks particularly pleased, a permanent grin etched onto his features as he reviews the tapes. The knowledge that you’ve done well fills you with a pleasant giddiness that warms your insides and makes your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile stretches.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Hoseok beams. A damp towel hangs around his neck and the ends of his hair are wet like he’s just gone and doused his head under the bathroom faucet. “I was worried you had left. I just - thanks for earlier. I had a lot of fun! If the chance presents itself, I hope we can work together again.”

“Thank you.” You want to praise him too, know that his performance deserves it, but your next words are cut off before they have the chance to form. Jimin steps closer to you, his grip on your hip tightening suddenly.

When you glance up to check on your boyfriend, he’s sporting a serious expression that you’ve rarely seen before. He doesn’t look angry, but it’s clear as day that he isn’t too pleased with the present situation. His face is closed off, cold, unwelcoming - so drastically different from the usual cherubic sweetness you’re accustomed to seeing.

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of who to address first. What’s going on?

Hoseok senses the sudden change in atmosphere and chooses to tactfully retreat.

“Good work, man.” He nods at Jimin and then shoots you a wave. “See you around sometime, ______ !”

Your eyes follow his exit before you turn to face Jimin again, hoping the smile on your face masks the worry you feel bubbling on the inside.

“Jimin what - I mean, are you sure you're okay?”

Jimin returns a strained smile of his own. “I’m fine.”

Your gaze lands on his right hand that’s still squeezing your waist. It borders on uncomfortable but you try not to let it show. You must not do a very good job at schooling your features because Jimin quickly apologizes for his behavior.

“Sorry.” Jimin lets you go once he notices your discomfort. “I just - I don’t know. You’re right, I’m not acting like myself. I think...seeing you say that stuff and act that way just - I’m not sure why, I guess - Since usually the sex isn’t like that, it caught me off guard.”

“You didn’t like that I acted like I was in love with him.”

“Would anyone?” he shoots back, smile sardonic. “It just looked so convincing in the moment. I guess it got me worked up.”

Sure, Hoseok is hot. If you had to work with him again, you would in a heartbeat. It’s not often you land a colleague you’re so sexually compatible with, who also happens to be so well-mannered and good-looking. It’s like hitting the jackpot, really.

But - just because you’d fuck him again for professional reasons, doesn’t mean that you’re interested in him beyond that.

“Jimin. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” The muscles in his face relax. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

.

.

It’s not until later, as he fucks you uncharacteristically hard in the backseat of his car parked in the back lot of the film studio, that you begin to wonder if things really are as idyllic as you believe them to be.

.

.

.

[mego42]

hi! a song inside the halls of the dark is an absolute masterpiece of plotting and pacing (and prob my fave fic I’ve read for the show so far), so for the ask a writer meme, I’d love to hear about your planning process(es). the idea of even plotting out something like that, let alone actually finishing it, just breaks my brain lol. do you do a lot of outlining? how much does the outcome end up looking like the ideas that sparked it?

adsfghgsj okay well first off, thank you! that is unspeakably flattering and i don’t know how to cope! my weird robot emotions are misfiring! but also, thank you for this question bc this is the kind of nerd shit i LIVE FOR and up until, idk, 5? 6? months ago my answer would’ve more or less been ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but sometime in between now and then i leveled up how much of a nerd i am.

okay so, the short answer to your (first) question is yes, i do a lot of outlining though the scale of outline varies based on the complexity of the story. in song’s case, how i outline actually evolved significantly over the course of writing it (see that level up) and if i were to outline it today, it would look very different from what i originally started with.

the short answer to your second question is in song’s case, the original idea was a v short, almost fluffy stuck in a hotel room for a night one shot i daydreamed up while listening to a halsey song (is there somewhere, if you were wondering). obvs what it turned into was uh, v different.

digging into how i outline is going to get long, excessively nerdy and borderline terrifying so i’m hiding the rest of this under the cut, read at your own risk.

I preface everything here with a couple of reminders:

1. i am a crazy person who straight up does not know how to have hobbies like a normal person

2. i am actively trying to push myself and grow as a writer including developing new skills and training myself to practice certain habits bc at some point I would like to push myself out of the nest and try my hand at original fiction one day with a vague goal of maybe seeing if i could get it published. idk if i’ll ever actually do that BUT in the meantime, i do stuff like the nightmare that follows to myself

initial outline / what happens next list

okay so the most basic of my outlines (and how i originally outlined song) are p much just lists of what happens next. i do them as bullet lists bc my brain finds them less intimidating and i just start with one and then ask myself what happens next. sometimes the bullets are v vague, sometimes they get so specific i end up writing what becomes dialogue, i try not to think too hard about it, i just keep asking what happens next.

it’s really specifically about what happens next, not asking myself what i want to happen in the story, bc next implies the bullet before informs the one after, so you end up with an overall picture of what you want with a base level of causality built in. it also gives you room to surprise yourself (i think literally every what happens next outline i’ve done has had me going oh, okaaaaaay at some point).

sometimes, this is all you need. for trade my heart for honey, i started and stopped here bc at the end of the day, the skeleton for that fic is super basic: beth and rio attempt to play pool without tripping over their horrendous sexual tension. they fail. the end.

for your monster looks like mine, i did a version of the what happens next list, but i brought in some of my tricks from the pace structuring method i’ve been honing for the multi-chapter i’m currently planning. instead of mapping tentpole beats by story pace, i mapped tentpole beats for what points i wanted beth and rio to be scoring against each other and then mapped out the lead-up and fallout to connect the two and also what they were doing to each other physically at the same time so i could see how it all played together so the conversation supported the smut and vice versa. it was a TOTALLY normal approach to writing pwp. not over the top at all. 

song’s original outline was basically a SUPER long what happens next list and if i could go back in time i would slap myself upside the head like bitch you have no idea what you’re getting into and you are WAY TOO COCKY ABOUT IT, but it’s okay i learned.

the spreadsheet method

somewhere around when i was in the middle of i want to say ch 9 of song, @pynkhues posted about her outlining process including a super awesome spreadsheet she uses (i cannot for the life of me find the original post, forgive me but know that it was hers) and i immediately jacked a version of it to use as my own and oh my god it changed my whole life. 

iirc hers was a bit more in depth but since i was sort of baby-stepping into it, i stripped it down into the following and did a sheet for each of the remaining chapters (well, ch 10 and ch 11, ch 11 ended up getting wildly out of control so i split it in two and mushed the epilogue i’d been planning onto the end of it as a closing breakout scene:

plot

character

it’s a lot of repetition, tbh BUT once i started using it, i found the repetition was incredibly clarifying and by making myself take the time to go through each column and go through the same stuff over and over, it honed in on the strongest, most relevant bits of what i was planning and helped me see patterns and connections i maybe hadn’t been thinking of on the onset.

when i outlined swear i used this method and added a layer to my chapter overviews where i track the lies and corresponding truths worked into the chapter narratives (bc that’s a key theme of the story), and color-coded the beats that corresponded to the main plot vs individual character arcs vs foreshadowing so i’d have an at a glance visual reference to make sure nothing was getting lost and all of the characters (even minor ones) had stuff happening to them and didn’t just feel like cardboard cutouts coming in and out of the story as i needed them

pace structuring

these are all fine and dandy but one thing they’re missing is pacing! for song’s pacing, i will be real with you, i v much went a lot with my gut. i’ve spent most of my life consuming and paying a lot of attention to stories. i’m fascinated with how they come together and literally cannot shut off the part of my brain that likes to pick them apart to examine the pieces to see how they all fit together. as such, it’s left me with a p instinctive grasp for how a story should feel when it’s working which is fantastic when it is, but really useless when it isn’t bc i struggle to identify where and why sometimes so i can fix it.

for the buffyverse, once i started to realize (with no small amount of horror) the scope of what i wanted to write, i realized p quick i needed some kind of tool kit to help me figure out the arc and pacing bc this was going to be a lot closer to trying to plot a whole novel from the ground up (which is great bc one of the things i want to practice is pacing and plotting out novels from the ground up, hahaha)

i’ve been working with a two main docs (and neither of them are spreadsheets, yet, bc one thing the spreadsheet method taught me it’s that while i find them very soothing, my brain works in bullet lists so i’m starting with bullets and then i’m gonna strain it through a spreadsheet):

1. Thoughts:

just a doc where I word vomit out anything I’m thinking, I don’t worry about keeping it organized, I just throw whatever I’m thinking in there so it’s memorialized and I can sort through it later.

2. Act Timelines / Scene Breakdowns:

basically, i have a basic three-act story structure with tentpole story beats broken out by general ballpark percentages of how far into the story/act they should occur for the pacing to feel right. i use that as the framework i run my plot and character beats through and do it in a couple of passes:

high level: i go through and break out what’s happening in the story for each tentpole beat (what the specific story and plot focus is)

by character: i go through and fill in (at least) one sub-bullet beneath each plot tentpole beat with what’s happening with each main character in their individual subplot, how they got there, what their general feelings and mindset is, if they’re having any revelations, etc (one thing i fucked up with song is not making sure i had stuff going on for all of the characters, the plot was super focused on beth and while i generally knew what rio was doing and why, ruby and annie more or less floated in and out of the story at whim and i hate that, so i’m trying to be better about it going forward)

by relationship: now i go in and fill in a layer of bullllets with how the plot and character beats are shaping relationships and how they’re progressing through each tentpole beat

at this point i’ve got a pretty fleshed out outline hitting on plot, character and relationship development at least in broad, general terms. i can look at it like a map and see how characters are growing and changing throughout the story and look for areas where the plot is pushing the characters vs the other way around and places where it seems weak or poorly connected/supported and i tinker with that for awhile until i feel like it’s in good shape.

next step is applying the what happens next approach to the scene by scene breakdowns. i’m trying an experiment with this one where instead of breaking the fic into chapters first, i’m breaking it into scenes and working out the beats of them so they incorporate all of my outlined stuff and then i’m gonna go back and see where the chapter breaks look like they fall.

I’m like, 75% of the way through my scene breakdown for this particular fic and once I’m done with that, I’m going to take everything and plug it into the spreadsheet I worked with for the last couple of chapters of song and highlight/color code like I did for swear to make sure my chapter breakdowns align with everything I’m trying to do and I’m tracking all of my themes and details and setting things up to pay them off later.

so, you know, an absolutely normal amount of planning for a hobby i do entirely for funsies in my largely nonexistent spare time. 

(sorry this was i am assuming WAAY MORE INFORMATION than you ever wanted or needed to know but once i started i couldn’t stop)

(and seriously, thank you, am truly verklempt that you love song like that 💖)

bts fic writing q’s IF YOU DARE hahaha

[loth-wolffe]

hiii 👉👈🥺 i just saw your celebration post and I'd love to participate!!

a lil about me - I absolutely love music, I am in my third year at university studying clarinet performance with another degree in education. I would love to teach elementary or middle school! I am also a coffee barista and spend a lot of time at home reading in the bathtub with coffee or tea.

another one of my hobbies is plants, I have 42 hours plants and I do yoga next to them every morning <3 it is seriously so peaceful! I also go on nightly sunset runs around the town I live in.

this idea is so cute and im so excited to read everyone's things!!! 🥰

celebrate with me ✨

so. baby. sierra my sweets. I'm not saying this bc I know how much you love obi wan but.

I'd totally ship you with obi wan.

if it were any clone, it'd def. be with fox BUT. we ain't talking bout him so he can go home. WE'RE HERE FOR KENOBI. (this is gonna be sO LONG BC I LOVE OBI SO MUCH and this is sO SOFT)

so. listen to me.

obi wan. right.

so I'm totally thinking that you met like in those cute coffee shop aus (😭 the best aus if u ask me). maybe he came every couple of days, and he's charming. a flirty bitch because that's who he is right. and maybe he started going there bc ahsoka likes coffee shops, but then he started going without ahsoka. v suspicious.

but he likes you. because it's easy being around you. and it turns into more than flirting, and sometimes you ask him about his day while you prepare his coffee and he ask about yours. and there's a banter going on sometimes, a light tease that makes him feel like it's not the middle of the war.

and then he started coming during your breaks, so casually, like he didn't mean to but he does. and you spend your breaks with him because whatever. and it's like you've been doing this forever. and you laugh and shamelessly flirt and there was this one (1) time he actually blushed and somehow you ended up falling. and that's fine.

he tells you the deal with the jedi and you understand so at first it's all so casual. no labels. just two persons spending time with the other, having a nice moment of peace and quiet and like yeah some sexy times here and there. and that's that.

but he kisses you goodbye like he's never coming back, stealing your breath away and as if he's trying to memorize your touch and your taste and it's so bittersweet and you want more and he does too.

so he starts spending more time at your place when he's around, and he talks to you over the comms a bit more frequently, and he likes cuddling with you while watching some trashy movie or reading with you this book that "don't you think it's too cheesy?" but he absolutely adores it.

and he takes care of your plants in the early mornings he has to go, leaving you a note that he already watered them and likes to go to your sunset walks with you (bc obi wan won't run unless it's completely necessary) around the city.

he likes it when he meditates and you do your yoga, smiling at the memory where you told him that are pretty much the same things. it helps you relax and get focused for the day ahead, same is for him, right?

and he tells you you're not exactly wrong, and he spent the entire afternoon talking to you about meditation and the force, with you on his lap, and using the force to explain certain things from time to time.

and his favorite times are when you're taking a bath, your head on his shoulder and he's reading with you, cheek on your head and there's this cheesy quote that makes him hum.

"what is it?" you ask. and he shakes his head, pressing a light kiss on your temple before leaning back on the tub. eyes closed for a second.

"nothing."

"obi..." your voice is gentle, a plead hides behind it, and he opens one eye to look at you before closing it again.

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." he quotes, the same line you had been reading less than a minute ago, and you're not surprised he memorized it.

and it's against his belief, against what he's been taught, but he loves you, he truly does. and maybe the force pulled its strings for him to find a soulmate in you.

"hm." you hum, contemplating. "what about it?" but you know what is about it. but you want him to say it too. he looks at you.

"I cannot pinpoint the exact moment I fell for you, either." he says, as if he were talking about some experiment, a doubtfulness in his words that pierce into his eyes and straight into your eyes. and your heart is beating wild in your chest because he has never said anything about falling for you nor loving you but he's just saying it and you feel like about to burst. "it's a bit sad, isn't it?"

"what matters is that you did."

there's a silence, and he smiles lazily at you and nods once.

"I suppose you're right."

and you think that's it. but it isn't, and the words ring loud in your ears when he pronounce them, it's something that you'll be keeping with you when he's away and even more when he's around.

"you do know I love you, right?"

and you cup his cheek, his beard tickling the soft skin and you kiss him softly.

"I do now." you pull away just slightly, only to find him with his eyes still closed. "I love you too."

[onceuponastory]

Coming Back Home - Chapter Six: The Only Exception

And up until now I had sworn to myself That I'm content with loneliness Because none of it was ever worth the risk But you are the only exception

the only exception: paramore

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable…until her sister asks her to show Nick around town…a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? (based on prompt by @orphicodysseywrites​)

Tag List: @shinydixon​, @baker151910​ and @thesundrop​. Let me know if you want to be added!

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol, death, abandonment and another panic attack.

Note: Happy Valentine’s Day weekend my loves! I know it’s Valentine’s tomorrow, but I’m working, so wanted to get this out today. This chapter is LOOOOONG, so enjoy ;)

Read the other parts / Read this story on Wattpad!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Y/N’s POV

“I’ll help her deal with this. Don’t want any issues, like last time.” I give Nick a knowing look, making him laugh. Leaving the room, and walking towards the front door, I expect to see a member of the groom party or the florist standing there, looking sheepish. But when I approach the door, I don’t recognise the person standing there. Katie looks over at me, her face pale and her eyes wide.

“Y/N....” She begins.

“Y/N!” The man smiles, cutting her off. He looks at me expectantly. “What, don’t you recognise me?” He asks. Frowning, I step closer, ready to tell him that I really don’t know who he is, and I’m sorry, but he has to....I stop my train of thought the second I see his eyes. My eyes. The same coloured and shaped eyes stare back at me. My heart almost drops out of my chest. It can’t be...can it? 

“D...Dad?” I stammer. His face lights up immediately, confirming my worst fears. “Oh my GOD!” I exclaim, moving closer to stand beside Katie. Protectively, I grab her hand, squeezing onto it tightly. I can’t believe he’s here. I feel like if I close my eyes and pinch myself, I’ll wake up from this nightmare. But I try it a few times, and everytime I open my eyes, he’s still there. Part of me knows I’m being dramatic, and should just stop...but what would you do if the man who abandoned you weeks after your mother died and barely had anything to do with you our your sister came back into your life? I can hear the noise of Adam and Nick walking up to us and speaking to our Dad, but most of their discussion is blocked out. All I can hear is the word “daughters”. Daughters. He has no right to call us his daughters, especially after abandoning us. 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Katie asks. He looks at us like we’re stupid for even asking him that.

“Don’t be silly! I’m here to attend your wedding!” He grins, making me confused.

“But you told me that you didn’t-” I begin, but he walks into the house and starts walking up to us before I can even finish my sentence. Protectively, I tighten my grip on Katie’s hand. “No, Dad, you can’t just walk in-” I try to say again, but he ignores me, and comes closer towards us. I open my mouth again, but he cuts me off.

“God, you look so much like your mother Y/N.” He smiles. Jane’s words echo in my head as he says it. I wish people would stop saying that to me. I didn’t even remember my mother that well. The only memory I have of her is her dying, then my Dad abandoning us soon after. Maybe that’s why he left. Because I look too much like my mom. He reaches out to touch my face, and I instinctively step back, uncomfortable with him being anywhere near me, let alone touching my face. He frowns, but instead of saying anything, he looks over at Katie. “So, Katie.” He grins, staring down at us. “What do you say? How about a hug for your old man?” 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I whisper.

“Um...” Katie’s silent for a moment, before removing her hand from my grasp and slowly walking into our Dad’s embrace. “There you are. My beautiful daughter. My beautiful bride.” He smiles, pulling her close into a hug. My heart twists at that. This is what Katie deserved her whole life...and what I deserved too.  I don’t even register Nick moving closer and standing beside me until I hear: 

“You okay?” He whispers. I nod. To be honest, i wasn’t sure if I was okay. Part of me was hopeful that our Dad coming back would mean a change of heart, and a new beginning for us...but another part was worried he’d leave us again, and we’d be right back to square one. After all, he may be a piece of shit who abandoned us...but he was still our Dad. And even though I had known for a long time that it was worthless trying to get him to pay attention to us, or to show us love and support...part of me was still a little kid who wanted her Dad. My Dad pulls away from Katie and looks at me.

“Is it worth me asking for a hug?” He asks. I blink, surprised. “You know Y/N, you were quite rude to me on the phone a few weeks ago. I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I? I do care.” He almost hisses the last two words out, in a clear attempt to make me feel bad for my choice of words and accusations. Katie looks horrified. Our Dad plasters on a smile again, and turns back to Katie. “So, darling. Ready for me to give you away in a few days?” Katie’s face flushes.

“Um, you see Dad, the thing is......” She begins, her voice shaking with nerves. Adam steps closer and wraps his arm around her. Protectiveness washes over me again. 

“I’m doing it.” I reply, stopping Katie from saying another word. Our Dad’s eyes go wide, and he splutters.

“What? You?”

“Yes Dad. Me. I’m giving her away, and dancing with her at the wedding.” Our Dad is silent for a moment, then he starts laughing. 

“Well, you won’t need to do that anymore. That’s the father of the bride’s job, and I’m here now, so you can go back to...whatever the hell it is that you’re doing.” I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Katie steps in, her voice stronger.

“No. No Dad, I want Y/N to do it. She’s been in my life the longest, and I want her.” She gives me a reassuring smile. She takes a deep breath. “You can still come to the wedding, I’m sure we can find you a seat somewhere...but I want my sister to give me away.” Our Dad starts sighing and shaking his head.

“I knew this would happen.” He states. “I knew your Grandmother would turn you both against me. That bitch never fucking liked me.”

“I wonder why!” I say before I can stop myself. The anger of the last twenty one years that’s been building up within me is clearly spilling over. “Gee, maybe it’s because you gave us up two weeks after her daughter died! And you just dumped us on her doorstep!”

“That’s not fair. It was hard work looking after you both on my own.” He argues back, pointing at me. “I did the best thing for you both by bringing you here. I did it because I cared about you two.”

“That might be true, but that’s not how I remember it.” I reply, having no idea where this new confidence is coming from. “I remember you telling Nana that ‘this shithole’ was the best place for us, and saying you didn’t care what happened to us after that. Also there’s the fact that you didn’t bother to contact us after that. So please, don’t act like you care about us all of a sudden.” My Dad steps closer, and Nick protectively moves closer to me. 

“How dare you. I gave you birthday and Christmas presents!” My Dad responds. 

“Yeah! On the wrong days!” I step closer to him.

“No, just-” Nick starts, but I continue regardless. I get closer, so close I can almost smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“Tell me, Dad.” I begin, hissing the word Dad. “When’s my birthday? When’s Katie’s?” He’s silent, and I cock my head, trying to ignore the pain of the fact that my Dad really doesn’t care about us. “Oh, was that too hard? Let me ask some more. Maybe they’ll be easier. What’s my favourite colour? What did Katie study at college? What did I study? Where do I live?” He doesn’t respond to any of them, and I laugh sarcastically. “And there it is everyone! The father who claims to love and care about his children, but doesn’t know a single thing about them!” I lean in closer to his face, slowly turning angrier. “Don’t you dare call our Nana a bitch when she did more for us than you ever did. She didn’t poison us against you, we realised for ourselves that you’re an asshole who never cared about us. We may be related to you by blood, but we are not your daughters.” I hiss. He’s silent, and I feel Nick gently pulling me back towards him. He protectively steps in front of me, slightly shielding me with his body just incase my Dad tries anything. My Dad finally speaks.

Nick’s POV

“See, this is the reason why I left you two. You’re so....dramatic Y/N. It’s annoying. And I guess I was wrong. It wasn’t your Grandma who poisoned you against me...it was you!” He points at Y/N. "You’ve ruined my relationship with my daughter. I can’t believe you’d be so...spiteful!”

“But...I’m your daughter too.” Y/N states, her voice quieter and shaky. I look over at her. Her face looks crushed, just like it did when we both had our argument. Anger grows within, and I step forward. I hate seeing Y/N like that, especially because it was my fault the first time. But now, I could help her.

“Don’t talk to her like that.” I order.

“Nick, don’t-” Y/N begins, but her father stops her. 

“And who do you think you are?” He asks. He steps closer, and I can smell the beer on his breath. 

“A friend of your daughters. But, given what Y/N’s told me, and what we’ve just heard, I think calling you a father is a bit of a stretch.” I reply. Rage grows on the man’s face even more. “By the way, in case you’ve forgotten, Mr Father of the Year, your daughters were four and two when you abandoned them here. I hardly think that’s their fault, don’t you?” The man scoffs.

“Listen, buddy. You don’t know anything about this situation, so butt out.” 

“No, actually. I know a lot about this situation, and I actually care about your daughters and their wellbeing, which is more than I can say about you, who’s blaming a four year old for why she and her sister were abandoned by you, and why they resent you for that.” Katie moves to stand beside Y/N, and wraps her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Adam stands beside me, helping to protect the girls from their father. “And on that note, despite everything you did to them, both Y/N and Katie still had the decency to ask if you were coming to the wedding, which is more decency than you deserve. And you have the nerve to accuse Y/N of trying to ruin her sister’s life and relationship with you? All she’s done throughout her life is try to make her sister happy. And that includes inviting you, when she had no idea if you’d even show up. If you had stuck around, you would know how good a person she is.” Their Dad scoffs again.

“And why do you care so much?” 

“Because I care about your daughter. A lot, actually.” I say, not even caring if this destroys my friendship with Y/N, or if she doesn’t like me back in that way. “I’ve only known her for about three weeks, and I already know what a beautiful person she is, both inside and out. If you can’t see that, then that’s your problem.” I feel someone squeezing my hand from behind me, and I turn back around to see Y/N staring at me, her eyes glistening with tears...but still looking grateful. 

“Thank you.” She mouths at me, and my heart swells. Even if she doesn’t like me back, that feeling is more than enough.

Y/N’s POV

Hearing Nick standing up for me makes my heart sing, and I almost start crying. The smile he gives me sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. 

“Anyway, why don’t we hear what Katie has to say?” Nick continues, and I give her hand another squeeze. She replies, her voice a lot more confident.

“Dad, Y/N has been with me for as long as I can remember, and Nick’s right. All she’s ever wanted to do is make sure I’m happy. And I still want her to give me away. We’ll find a place for you to sit, but this is my decision.” She looks over at me, a big smile on her face. “And I choose my sister.” My heart swells all over again, and a few tears fall down my face. “But I’d love to have you at my wedding, Dad.” She smiles.

“I can’t believe this.” Our Dad scoffs, shaking his head. “The only reason why I came here was to give you away, and you won’t even let me have that?” He asks. “God, it wasn’t even worth coming here.”

“No, Dad wait-” Katie begins, her voice sounding sadder. My heart rate rises. He’s going to leave us again. I know it. “You can still come to the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding, it-”

“Don’t you get it? If I’ll just be a guest then I don’t want to come to the rehearsal dinner! Or to the wedding. If you don’t want me to do my job as the father of the bride, there’s no point me even being there, is there?!”

“But you said....” Katie trails off, her eyes filling with tears. My anger rises.

“Are you serious? So you’re going to leave us? Again? Just like that? Just because you won’t get the attention you will as father of the bride?” I ask, feeling tears begin to stream down my face. I was being abandoned. Again. But before I can even say anything else, or before our Dad can respond, Katie lets out an anguished cry, and she runs upstairs. I look back at the stairs, then back at my Dad. Part of me wants to argue, to tell him to go to hell and to never call himself our Dad again, but like Katie did....I choose my sister. “Katie! Katie, wait!” I call, running upstairs after her. Once I reach the landing, I look around, trying to see what room she’s in. But her sniffling soon draws me towards my bedroom. I open the door to see my sister curled up in my bed, her back to me. “Katie?” I ask softly, sitting beside her at the end of the bed. It breaks my heart to see her like this. This was the one thing I didn’t want to happen. But me phoning our Dad probably caused this. And now he had left us. Again. My heart was shattering all over again. “Katie?” I ask again, Katie moves aside wordlessly. Once I’m in bed beside her, she turns to face me, her face streaked with tears. Before I can even do anything, she lunges forward and pulls me into a hug. She bursts into tears, and as soon as she does, I start crying too.

“I’m sorry...I just couldn’t...I-” She stammers, gasping for air slightly. 

“Don’t be silly. You don’t have anything to apologise for. This whole thing is my fault.” I reply through my tears. Katie pulls away, and frowns at me. “I’m the one who called him, so that’ll be why he came here. And he’s right...what if it was my fault that he left us the first time? And now it’s my fault he’s gone again, and that he won’t be here for your wedding.” I sniff. “I’m so sorry Katie.” I cry. “I’ve ruined everything for you.”

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault. I meant it. You’ve been here for me, ever since we were kids. Actually...” She sniffles again. “Remember when you beat up the bullies for me in the school playground?” She asks. A memory flashes into my mind. Some kids in my year had found out about our parents, and had made it their life’s mission to tease us. I tried not to let it bother me, but Katie had it the worst. She was so young, she couldn’t defend herself...which is why I shoved them over and punched them...as hard as seven year old me could, that is. “I thought it was so cool, my big sister standing up for me like that.” She continues.

“Yeah well...Nana didn’t think it was that cool.” I am immediately reminded of sitting beside my Nana in the Principal’s office, being lectured on how to behave, and how even though they may have provoked it, I had no right to fight back like that. “I mean, I fought hard in my defence. And maybe Nana did agree...she just never told me.” I chuckle slightly, and even Katie giggles too. “And then there was those times when you used to crawl into bed with me when you had nightmares, instead of Nana.” I remember.

“Nana was scary! Could you blame me?” She laughs. “Actually...it was like this. You, cuddling with me in your bed and singing to me or telling stories before I fell asleep. You used to tell me stories of two princesses who would finally get their happy ending.” 

“Wonder who they are.” Katie smiles. 

“Well, you were right. I’ve finally found my happy ending.” She looks back up at me. “Y/N. I know you think this whole thing was your fault, but trust me. It is not. You’ve been more like a mother to me than a big sister all my life, and I love you so much. You could’ve just ignored me or pretended that I didn’t exist, but you didn’t. You’ve cared for me all this time, and you still are caring for me. So, thank you.” She pulls me back into a hug, and the tears start flowing again. “It just sucks that he won’t be there. That he doesn’t care.” She sniffles, and I start crying again. She’s right. Having your Dad abandon you again does suck.

“I know. I’m sorry. But Adam, Nick and I will be beside you every step of the way. We love you so, so much.” I reassure her. The two of us lay in each other’s arms for a while, neither wanting to leave the other alone. 

~~~

Sometime later

The door opens, and Katie and I look over to see Adam and Nick standing there. Katie moves out of my embrace, and runs to Adam, who leads her out of the room, presumably towards their room. Nick sits on the bed as I sit up. “Is he gone?” I ask. Sighing, Nick nods, and I start crying again. “He’s left me again.” I gasp between tears, feeling my heart rate rising as my anxiety and abandonment issues kick in again, combined with the stress and the emotions from earlier. “He’s abandoned me. Again. He doesn’t want me anymore” I gasp, feeling myself starting to hyperventilate. “Nick, what if he’s right...w-what if it’s my fault? What if he left me because I look too much like my Mom? What if I was too much of a bad kid? I always wondered if it was my fault. Maybe it was.” I ask myself, speaking quickly. Nick moves closer to me.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s not your fault. It’s his.” He tells me.

“Please...don’t leave me....” I beg through my tears. “Please...don’t leave me alone. I can’t lose you too.” 

“I won’t leave you.” He tells me. “I’m here. It’s okay. You won’t lose me. Breathe with me, okay? In and out.” He holds out his hands in case I want to take them, and I take them both as I try to regulate my breathing. Nick stays with me, holding my hands and helping with my breathing until I calm down. 

“I’m sorry Nick.” I sniff. “I’m sorry I’m so...messed up.”

“Y/N. It’s okay. You’re not messed up. I told you. I care about you.” He smiles, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. 

“I just can’t believe he doesn’t even know anything about Katie or I...that he doesn’t even care.” Nick sits with me as I let out all my emotions, continuing to hold my hands, cheer me up and hug me when I need it. After I feel like I’ve calmed down properly...or as much as I could, Nick lays beside me, and lets my head rest on his chest. We lay together in silence for a while. Well, it’s not exactly silence. I can hear the sound of Nick’s heartbeat, and the sound of the birds chirping outside. But it’s nice. I can smell the scent of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body as I rest my head on his chest, and the movement of his chest as he breathes in and out. It helps to ground me and calm me even more. Even though I had no idea of how long we’ve been lying here, I don’t care. In all honesty, I could keep laying there for the rest of my life. It’s comforting, and in a way...it feels like home. Like where I’m meant to be. My feelings for him, and my talk with Katie from a few days ago flash back into my mind. And with it, comes Nick telling my Dad about how much he cares about me. Did he really mean it? Like...in that way? “Nick?” I ask. 

“Mhm?”

“When you said you cared about me earlier...did you mean it?” I ask. He looks down at me. 

“Of course I did. You’re such a wonderful person Y/N, it’s hard not to care about you after spending time with you.” A smile spreads on my face. Should I tell him how I feel about him? I look up into his blue eyes, and my heart answers the question for me almost immediately. 

“Nick. Can I tell you something?” I ask. He nods. “The other day I...I um realised something.” My anxiety kicks in again, and I’m worried that he won’t feel the same. But it’s been weighing on me for so long...I just have to tell him. “I...Um. I think...” I take a breath to steel myself. “IthinkIhaveacrushonyou!” The words are all strung together at once, and Nick frowns, blinking at me as he tries to understand what I said. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly. He’s clearly understood. “I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, and please don’t feel obligated to feel the same. Especially after today. I won’t feel bad. I just-I just had to let it out! You’re just so-” Nick cuts me off by gently running his fingers down my cheek and jaw line. Without saying anything, he leans closer, and delicately kisses me on the lips. It feels like time stops in that moment. At first, I’m so in shock I don’t even respond, and Nick pulls back from me slightly, waiting to see what I’ll say. Instead of responding with words, my hands wrap around his shoulders, my hands tangling in his shirt, and his go around my waist as I kiss him back passionately. My heart starts pounding again...but in a good way. It feels really nice to finally be kissing Nick, like this is how things are meant to be. Also, ever since the first time we almost kissed, part of me has been hoping for this...and now it was finally here. And it’s better than I ever could have imagined. Thank god we’re laying in my bed, because if he had kissed me like that standing up, I probably would have fainted from how weak my knees feel right now. Nick pulls away from me, part of my lipgloss smeared on his lips.

“I’m so glad you said that.” He whispers, his voice husky. “I’ve felt the same about you for the past two weeks.” I smile, and my heart feels like it’s doing backflips. 

“Then please don’t stop kissing me.” I whisper back, and Nick quickly returns his lips to mine.

Maybe I’ll get my happy ending after all.

A/N: In case you’re wondering, YES. this fic will be continued. I’m still going to show the wedding :)

[honibee-arts]

prompt: sangcheng, reincarnation? maybe they get reincarnated as fine ladies this time around u_u do they remember their past lives? up to you! :>

Tw: genderbending

Every morning, around 11.45, the same girl would come into the coffee shop everyday. She would give her name - Nie Huaisang, yet somehow Jiang Cheng already knew it - and order a soy milk iced coffee, sheepishly explaining each time she was lactose intolerant.

The girl... There was something so familiar about her... Everything. Like Jiang Cheng knew her.

The way her soft bangs swept across her forehead made Jiang Cheng want to run her fingers through it... And instead of wondering how that soft black and green hair felt between her fingers... Something in her seemed to know already.

She hated the jealousy that flared up in her when she would see smudged lipstick and marks on her neck. Jiang Cheng barely knew this girl, she had no right to feel like this.

As the girl stepped up, Jiang Cheng handed her the sweating cup of iced coffee before she could even say anything.

"Ah! You know my order? This one is very grateful." Nie Huaisang giggled. Her lips were so pink and shiny... Jiang Cheng pushed down the vague memory of something that never happened - Nie Huaisang's lips against hers.

"You order the same thing every day and you're always here at the same time." she shrugged.

"Eh? Do I? I had no idea." she jammed her fan under her armpit as she rummaged in her bag for her purse.

Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly and tired not to watch how her cleavage pressed together in the low neckline of the paint covered tank top as she reached into her bag, an adorable look of frustration on her soft features.

"Yeah. Large soy milk ice coffee with two pumps of hazelnut syrup, one pump of caramel syrup and a fuck load of sugar."

"So sweet of you to remember, A-Cheng. If I didn't know any better I would say you had a crush on little old me."

A-CHENG?! THE FUCK?!

"... How do you know my name?"

The girl blinked, her ridiculously long lashes flicking against her soft, round, rosy cheeks and her golden eyes widening. She blushed - oh fuck, so cute - and looked away, tapping her card to the reader to pay.

"It's on your name tag..."

No, Jiang Wanyin was on her name tag, not Jiang Cheng. Her brows furrowed as she rang the girl up.

"Okay... Sure." She said slowly, puzzled.

Nie Huaisang giggled and waved as she walked back through the cafe, sipping her iced coffee as she slipped out the polished glass double doors. Jiang Cheng needed to get to the bottom of this.

ChengCheng: how did you know your girlfriend was from your past life

Dumb ass bitch: wdym

ChengCheng: theres this girl

Dumb ass bitch: ooo that's gay

ChengCheng: shut up you declared your girlfriend was your breakfast we aren't having this conversation

Dumb ass bitch: noooo ChengCheng talk to your shijie

ChengCheng: ugh OK there's this girl at work who comes in all the time and she seems like I know her. Like. I knew her name already and she called me A-Cheng and this girl forgets she orders the same coffee every fucking day

ChengCheng: I just feel stupid bc you and Ge can remember your past lives and I can't. I get like. Nightmarish glimpses and that's it.

Dumb ass bitch: my past life is mostly nightmarish visions and getting fucked in a forest.

ChengCheng: you disgust me

Dumb ass bitch: OK ok I remember a lot tho can u tell me the name of this girl

ChengCheng: Nie Huaisang

Dumb ass bitch: Nie mingjues sister??? The little sister of the woman my girlfriends sister is fucking??

ChengCheng: get to the point.

Dumb ass bitch: OK. Yeah. I can work w this.

According to Wei Wuxian, Nie Huaisang had been a close friend of Jiang Chengs in their youth, thousands of years ago when Jiang Cheng was a cultivator known as Sandu Shengshou. They had grown apart following the death of Jiang Yanli, who at the time had been Jiang Chengs sister.

Through Wei Wuxians snobby girlfriend, she had managed to get Nie Huaisang's phone number, Instagram, WeChat, Weibo, Twitter, Snapchat and disturbingly, OnlyFans.

They had been talking almost constantly for a week, and Nie Huaisang seemed to come in earlier so she could talk to Jiang Cheng a little longer. Their conversations flowed easily, it was a comfort, knowing they had once known one another, long, long ago.

Huaisang stirred her matcha latte with a long, thin spoon, the gold streaks painted onto her nails shining in the midmorning sunlight. Jiang Cheng was on break, and Huaisang had taken the opportunity to spend more time with her. They sat in a booth in the corner of the shop, winding away the time as they joked and teased and caught up.

"So, you remember now?" Huaisang asked, licking the pale green foam from her spoon. Jiang Cheng tried not to follow her tongue with her eyes.

"Not really. I have nightmarish visions of war and shit but.. I know we were good friends."

"Is that what the history books say?" she raised a thin, sculpted brow.

"Yeah... That's what Wei Wuxian told me too so... Its been verified."

"Cheng-er, we were much more than friends." she purred, grinning at her as Jiang Chengs face flushed.

"W-we were?"

"Mn. After the fall of Jin Guangyao, you decided to question me about my intentions, whether I would hurt Jin Ling. Of course, I wouldn't. I never intended but I was so hell bent on revenge I... I didn't care too much about the collateral damage. But once the emptiness of revenge took over I apologised. Eventually we became sworn brothers... Then one thing lead to another..."

"We were lovers..." Jiang Cheng finished.

"Yes. Sandu Shengshou and the Headshaker, we were quite the pair."

"Were we... Happy?"

"For some time, yes. But as time passed... Well I was always sickly but I got worse. I died not long after my heir, Nie Zongying, became of age. I died long before you. I've been reincarnated more times than you. I remember so many lives... And I've always been able to find you again in them."

"And you want me? To keep me?"

"I will love you until the day I die, and I will find you again, and fall in love with you again. Every time."

[leporellian]

What's up with people hating The Met?

RIGHT OK so the met just fucken SUCKS in general but if i went through ALL their warcrimes it would take 5 hours and unfortunately i don’t have the time. so brief rundown. i’m saying this all from memory so it won’t be 100% accurate but this is just a broad idea not like. 500 page callout post

- first off their productions aren’t really great or even Inspired. this is the least important thing on this list but i feel like saying ‘right so the ‘’’’forefront of american opera’’’’ isn’t even at the actual forefront of opera’ is important so you can understand there is not much of value here

- those bitches are racist. there’s a whole lot of racism within the met’s doors but for one thing they still let anna netrebko use fucking brownface in their productions. (they SAID they got rid of blackface in 2013, which, 1) WAY TOO FUCKING LONG! and 2) THEY DIDN’T ACTUALLY GET RID OF IT THEY JUST SAID THAT SO PEOPLE WOULD GO SEE THAT YEAR’S OTELLO

- and then when they staged porgy and bess they were like ‘EVERYONE WE HIRED BLACK PEOPLE RACISM IS NO MORE’ when... they only hired black people because porgy and bess is an opera where in order to legally perform it you HAVE to hire black singers,

- also in re: netrebko. there’s apparently a whole putin-supporting thing inside the met. like a good chunk of the met are putin apologists and have their own little Club inside the met it’s so fucking weird.

- also ALSO in re: netrebko, netrebko is VERY anti-mask (even after nearly dying from it) and the met continues to fully condone her and tout her as the ‘greatest star in modern opera’ or some bullshit. greatest star MY ASS

- meanwhile you got james levine. dude was THE conductor at the met for MANY years and then it turns out he was a Sex Offender who went after Little Kids! and the met KNEW to some extent and COVERED IT UP! and then they paid that fucker levine THREE MILLION DOLLARS AFTER HE LEFT BC OF THE ALLEGATIONS

- meanwhile MEANWHILE you got placido domingo who is -ALSO- a sex offender. so right in 2019 the ap news came out with a big article with detailed documentations of sex assault allegations against domingo and within like 3 days it went from like, 14 initial allegations to 60-something. and he was in the met’s m*cbeth when this was all happening, right. so how does the met react? well, the head manager (this bitch named peter gelb) goes ‘right yeah just forget that it’s more important to have him bc he is a Big Name’ and then threatened employees who expressed feeling comfort around, ya know, a Sex Offender, saying that nothing would deter him from letting domingo go. (and then, in a HILARIOUS twist of fate, domingo left on his own will HOURS BEFORE OPENING NIGHT. helppppp)

- speaking of which: the met has forced their employees to either take no pay at all during the pandemic (which, Disastrous) or take a 40% permanent pay cut. so nobody has gotten paid since a year ago. numerous other opera houses are like ‘wtf no pay them in full you whores’ and the met is like ‘I Do Not See It’ because they fucken suck.

- TO CIRCUMVENT THE PROBLEM those bitches are just outsourcing from russia now. like ‘oh you won’t accept our 40% pay cut for the same hours? guess we’ll just put someone else in your place and continue to not financially support you :)’

- actually what is it with the met’s weird... russiophile-ness. is that a word

- there’s also like, the weird minor dramas that start up every 2 weeks bc the met just can’t fucken handle people not talking abt it i guess

- also their outreach is... horrid. like bc of their sheer incompetence they are REALLY BAD at showing people that ‘hey opera is a fun flexible thing that anyone can get into’ which is hurting opera A LOT!!! 

- also the way those bitches primp and preen themselves like ‘ooOOooo we’re the FOREFRONT OF AMERICAN OPERA’ when opera’s strength is in how it doesn’t belong to any one person and can be changed by anyone!!! dumb asses!

- those mfs really put the magic flute as their big ‘women’s history month :)’ thing when. (points at the post below)

- THEY ARE ONLY STAGING AN OPERA BY A BLACK COMPOSER THIS YEAR... and they RARELY stage operas by women composers EVER. it's just the same 5 fucken puccini operas in a row!!

- AND WITH ALL THIS they have the gall to like. make horrible financial decisions and then be all ‘pwease pay us we work vewy hawd :’(((’ and like. yeah bitches i bet you feel really bad abt giving levine 3 million dollars now huh!

- more shit i’m probably missing no lie it’s always something new with these motherfuckers. tldr